Читать книгу Mail-Order Christmas Baby - Sherri Shackelford - Страница 13
ОглавлениеHeather froze in place. A smattering of applause sounded, and the congregation descended into excited chatter.
“What are you doing, Otto?” Sterling whispered harshly.
The foreman shrugged. “Ain’t that what you told me on the way over? That you two was getting hitched?”
Judging by the look on Sterling’s face, that wasn’t what he’d said at all. The commotion was agitating Grace, and Heather bounced the child on her hip. While events weren’t exactly going to plan, at least they were moving in the right direction.
The reverend banged his hand on the lectern. “A little decorum, if you please. Is this true, Miss O’Connor, Mr. Blackwell?”
Heather turned toward Sterling and lifted her shoulder in a helpless shrug. The reverend took the vague gesture as a sign of agreement.
“Hallelujah.” Using his gnarled fingers, he pinched the loose end of his robe sleeves against his wrist and dabbed at his brow. “The wedding of Miss O’Connor and Mr. Blackwell will take place in exactly two hours.”
Appearing exhausted by the sudden turn of events, the reverend tucked his Bible beneath his arm and strode down the aisle.
He paused before Heather and Sterling. “I’ll fetch the witness book. Two hours.”
Her breath caught. Events weren’t just moving in the right direction, they were racing ahead and leaving her behind.
Confused by the abrupt end of the service, the townspeople stood and milled about, their voices droning.
Otto placed two fingers in his mouth and blew out a whistle. “Don’t just stand around. Go on home and have supper.”
His words spurred the crowd into action. People gathered their belongings, shrugging into coats, and men donned their hats.
Heather cast a surreptitious glance at Sterling to gauge his response, then quickly looked away. He wasn’t taking this well. At least she had two hours to convince him of her plan. Keeping him in her peripheral vision, she fielded murmured congratulations and perfunctory handshakes as the church emptied.
Otto was the last person to leave. He tipped his hat. “See you after supper.”
Alone with Sterling, her courage faltered. All her careful words muddled together in her head.
Seemingly in a similar place, Sterling paced the center aisle with the restless energy of a caged bear. “I telegraphed Dillon.”
Her hold on Grace slipped. “You did what?”
“I’m trying to make this right.” He flipped back the edges of his jacket and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his gray wool trousers. “It’s my fault Dillon broke things off with you.”
Her panic must have registered with Grace. The child’s lower lip trembled, and she tugged on Heather’s earbobs.
“Ma!”
“No. Not yours. Mine,” Heather corrected the child. She flashed an apologetic look at Sterling. “I think that’s what she was trying to say at the train depot. I think ma means mine. She’s very taken with shiny things.”
“You have to listen to me, Heather.” Sterling grasped her shoulder and steered her toward a pew in the last row, then knelt before her. “I’m the reason you’re not with Dillon.”
Gracie had already been forced to sit still for too long, and her patience lapsed. She flipped onto her stomach and let her feet dangle off the edge of the pew.
“Da.”
“Down.” Heather helped her the rest of the way. “Gracie is down.”
“Da,” Gracie repeated.
For the past week, Heather had felt like a professor attempting to decipher a new language. Words often coincided with actions, giving her clues as to Gracie’s intent. More often than not, they both wound up frustrated with each other.
“What do you mean?” Heather asked, her attention distracted by Gracie’s busy explorations. “I already know about your pa. You don’t have to apologize for him. I understand.”
There was no need for him to explain, and all this talk of Dillon was wasting what precious little time they had together before the reverend returned.
Sterling rubbed his eyebrows with the tips of his fingers. “Dillon left because I talked him into going.”
“Oh.” She was more curious than shocked. “I thought your pa disapproved.”
“It’s a long story.” He pressed his hands together as though in prayer. “I had this all rehearsed, but nothing is going as planned.”
She huffed out a breath. “I know the feeling.”
“I didn’t want Dillon to become like our pa.” He tilted his fingertips toward her. “I knew if Dillon stayed, he’d be just like him. I saw the changes as he got older. I talked him into leaving even though I knew he was sweet on you. I told myself the two of you weren’t serious.”
“We weren’t.”
“Don’t you see?” Sterling shook his head in disbelief. “Maybe this baby is a blessing in disguise. You two can be together.”
Gracie tugged on her skirts. “Hungie.”
Heather unwrapped the heel of bread she’d stowed in her bag for such an emergency. Gracie stuffed one end into her mouth, and Heather hoisted her onto the seat once more.
“I appreciate the apology,” she began, “but it doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t say to Dillon. He made the choice alone. By himself.”
She didn’t suppose it mattered who had spoken with Dillon or what they’d said. If he’d felt anything for her, even a sliver of affection, he’d have had some remorse in leaving. The letter stuffed in her copy of The Return of the Native had made his lack of regard for her glaringly clear.
“This is a second chance,” Sterling said.
“I don’t want a second chance. I didn’t even want the first chance, not really.” How did she explain something to someone else when she didn’t quite understand herself? “When I first arrived in Valentine, I didn’t know anyone. Dillon was nice to me. I mistook gratitude for something more.”
Dillon had appeared troubled and lost, feelings she understood all too well. She’d sensed in him a kindred spirit. She’d been drawn to him because his confusion had mirrored her own. She’d recently fled an untenable situation, and she’d caught Sterling’s brother in the same moment of indecision. A fundamentally flawed part of her character had sensed she was latching on to a man who was fixing to leave.
“But you have to marry someone,” Sterling said. “Didn’t you hear the reverend? Everything I discovered about this child led her straight to us. It’s as though Grace appeared out of thin air. Only you and I know the truth, and no one is interested in our opinion. As long as the three of us stay in this town, you have to marry someone, and it’s either him or me.”
“Then I choose you.”
He lost his balance and groped for the pew behind him. “What?”
“Have you ever come to a turning point in your life?” His obvious shock wasn’t encouraging, but at least he hadn’t uttered an outright refusal. “A moment when everything changes and you can’t go back to being the person you were before?”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“I can never go back to the person I was before Gracie came into my life. This week has changed me. When you said she was a blessing, you were right. I’ve been praying for the answer all week. When you came into the church this morning, I knew. I could tell just by looking that you hadn’t discovered anything, and I knew. Someone abandoned her. They don’t deserve her.”
Gracie extended a fistful of soggy bread. Her pinafore was damp with drool and flecks of dough. “Da. Gra da.”
“Done. Gracie is done,” Heather translated. She caught Sterling’s expression and rushed ahead. “I realize she’s not at her best, but you’ll grow to love her too. I know you will.”
Sterling clasped her fingers in his warm grasp, his calluses rasping against the soft material of her gloves. “If you felt something for Dillon before, even something casual, maybe you can feel something for him again.”
“I don’t want to feel that way ever again, and I don’t think you do either.” His touch was distracting her from her purpose, and she gently tugged away. His grip tightened around her fingers, keeping her in his grasp. “I’d do this alone if I thought I could, but Gracie will always be fodder for gossip.”
“Now you’ve lost me,” he said.
She gathered her wits and considered her next words carefully. “You’re always flirting and carrying on with girls, but have you ever actually courted someone?”
The tips of his ears heated. “Well, um, no.”
“You’re the most eligible bachelor in town. You own the largest ranch in the county. You could have any girl.”
He released her fingers, but the warmth of his touch lingered, and she flexed her fingers.
“I wouldn’t say the most eligible,” he demurred. “Top three maybe.”
She wasn’t playing fair, ambushing the man like this, but she’d run out of options. She’d been mulling the problem over for the past three days, and during that time, she’d fallen hopelessly in love with Gracie. She’d considered all her options and had come to the conclusion that Sterling was her only choice, for exactly the reasons she’d stated.
The reverend and Otto had merely sped up events, though she hadn’t planned on springing the idea on him quite this way. While all of her reasons were sound, she recognized that Sterling didn’t have as much incentive for taking on the two of them. He didn’t know Gracie, and he’d never fully comprehend her reasoning.
He didn’t understand what it was like to go from being loved and cherished to being an irritating annoyance. He didn’t know what it felt like to be unwanted. He didn’t know what it was like to feel so lonely that a body physically ached.
“I don’t...” He appeared to struggling with some sort of internal battle. “I mean to say...” He tipped his head to one side. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. I’m certain.”
She offered up a brief prayer for forgiveness considering she’d all but ambushed the man. He wasn’t courting anyone, so she wasn’t treading on any toes there. Gracie needed a home. And while Sterling could probably do better than her, especially considering his wealth and his looks, he could also do worse.
She felt only a twinge of guilt, which was quickly wiped away when she recalled that neither of them had asked for any of this. The whole situation felt like a blatant manipulation. She had no family connections, no money, nothing. A man with Sterling’s attributes had far better choices for motherhood than a nobody like her. She was as certain of his innocence as she was her own. They were both victims of the same bald-faced lie, and they had to design their own solution.
Gracie stood and tugged on the silk flowers of her bonnet.
Sterling offered a half grin. “She never gives up.”
“She’s extremely tenacious.” Heather sensed he was softening to the idea, and sprinted ahead. “Despite what the preacher said today, I truly believe the people in town only want the best for us.”
Irene’s support had been invaluable. Most folks were confused as well as curious. Her students had been inquisitive about Gracie’s arrival, and she’d sensed many of their questions were echoes of what had been discussed around the dinner table with their parents the previous evening. There’d been plenty of stares and whispers. There had also been moments of kindness.
Tom, whose dad owned the general store, had ordered store-bought clothing for Gracie since there wasn’t time for sewing all she needed. Mrs. Stone had sent an extra pail of milk with her daughter to class each morning, while only charging for a single pail. Irene had watched Gracie during the school hours.
For the first few days Heather had hoped to fall asleep and wake to the uncomplicated life she’d led before the child’s arrival. She’d been neither content nor discontent, but somewhere in the middle. She’d resigned herself to a life as the spinster schoolteacher. Anything was an improvement over living with her aunt and uncle in Pittsburgh. If she was going to live a lonely life, she much preferred the view of the mountains to the view of the smelting stacks.
She taught her students and read books during the summer. She’d been satisfied with her life, or so she’d thought. Gracie had changed her way of thinking in only a week. God had brought this child into her life at this time for a reason. Someone to love unreservedly and unconditionally. Someone who might even love her back. Heather had seen plenty of men and women fall out of love with each other, but she’d never seen a child fall out of love with a mother.
Sterling’s back was turned, preventing her from gauging his expression. He rubbed the nape of his neck.
“I misspoke before,” he declared.
A sudden uneasy feeling seized her. “About what?”
He turned.
“Top two.” His grin was crooked and achingly enduring. “I’m definitely in the top two most eligible bachelors.”
She nearly sagged with relief. The serious side of him was gone, and he’d transformed back into the Sterling she knew and understood. He was once again the charming rogue with the ready smile.
Gracie grinned at their shared laughter, wanting in on the joke, and Heather hugged her close. She knew what it felt like to be alone. No one had ever wanted her, not really, not since her ma had passed. Her pa had left her with her aunt and uncle after the war because she was a girl. He’d told her as much when he’d packed her trunks. If you were a boy, I’d keep you, but a girl needs a woman to raise her.
Her aunt and uncle hadn’t wanted her. Even Dillon hadn’t wanted her. Only Gracie had embraced her love with innocent abandon.
Sterling was only grudgingly conceding because he’d been trapped by circumstance.
Her heart did a curious little flip. When he’d arrived at the church, she’d nearly tossed her plan to the wind. In his work clothing he was handsome; in his Sunday suit he was devastatingly so. She had an uneasy premonition she’d been thrown together with the one man who could break her heart, which meant extra vigilance was in order. Love was serious business, but as long as he stayed the same carefree man who made her laugh, they’d do fine together.
She’d made a solemn vow that Gracie would never feel unwanted, and she meant to keep that vow, no matter the personal cost.
“We won’t disrupt your life,” she vowed. “I promise.”
“I don’t know, Heather.” His tone indicated he was teasing. “Maybe I’ll disrupt yours.”
“Never.”
* * *
“For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health...” The reverend droned on and the ceremony was quickly concluded. There’d been no exchange of rings, and only a few curious onlookers had returned for the service. Only Irene and the ranch hands had been there to truly support the couple.
They’d both repeated the words as though in a daze. Irene and her husband had signed the witness book and offered them coffee, which they’d politely declined. There was no moon that evening, and traveling in the dark was dangerous. Instead they’d left the ranch hands in town while they fetched Heather’s belongings.
All of her worldly possessions fit neatly into the back of the wagon, with plenty of room to spare. Sterling lifted the backboard into place and secured the latch. Though there hadn’t been much to move, he’d worked up a sweat. He raised his arm above his head and swiped his forehead against his shoulder.
“That everything?” he asked.
“That’s everything,” she replied from the doorway. “I’ll close up and be right out.”
“Best be quick.”
“I will.”
He didn’t need to check his pocket watch to know they didn’t have much daylight left.
The fabric roses Mrs. Carlyle had hastily pinned to his lapel sagged, and he stuffed the decoration in his pocket. Guilt gnawed at his gut. He hadn’t put up much of a fight against marrying Heather considering her past relationship with his brother, and he didn’t have as many regrets as he probably ought to.
His anger sparked, the heat directed solely at his brother. If Dillon had returned for their pa’s funeral instead of trying to manage the entire Western frontier with his own two hands, he’d have been here for this fiasco. There was a pretty strong possibility the Blackwell name had been attached to Gracie as a matter of convenience rather than design. Any Blackwell would do, and Heather had gotten her second choice in husbands, no matter how much she denied her feelings for Dillon.
He’d never know what might have happened if he hadn’t interfered, and the unknown haunted him. A part of him feared he was living another man’s future. Heather hadn’t chosen him, she’d been stuck with him.
Heather appeared a moment later with Gracie perched on her hip. After securing the door, she made her way to the wagon. “I’m going to miss this place.”
Sterling couldn’t imagine why. The old one-room schoolhouse sat at the edge of town, a relic of Valentine’s history. Though the population had surged during the gold rush, the town had never needed more than one school until a few years before. And then once the boom had busted, the town floundered. His pa had formed a town council, and they’d enticed a flour mill onto the banks of the river. A bakery had followed, along with a café and a second dry goods store. Families had soon filled the town. Despite the loss of gold, the population had surged back to over a thousand.
The wood buildings along Main Street had been replaced with brick, and a gazebo had been erected in the town square. The old schoolhouse had remained, catering mostly to the farm children whose families preferred the old way of doing things. Heather’s lodgings had consisted of a single room addition with a potbellied stove for warmth and cooking.
She anchored her hat with one hand and tipped back her head, gazing somewhat wistfully at the bell housing. “Mrs. Lane has promised to finish out the school year. The students probably won’t even remember me come next fall.”
“Is there anyone we should notify about your move?” he asked. “Besides the postmaster.”
“No. No one.”
A jolt of realization kicked him in the gut. The children and that one-room addition were everything she had in the world, and she was leaving it all behind for Gracie. She had no family in town, no family anywhere as far as he knew. She was entirely alone in the world.
The idea was sobering. He’d always had family around in one form or another. Even without his parents, he’d had Dillon. His ma had family back East, though she’d rarely gone back to visit.
“Mrs. Lane will do right by the students until another teacher is hired,” he said. “I didn’t think she’d ever retire in the first place. The town council was surprised when you applied. It’s not as easy luring people out West like it was in the old days.”
Her smile was tinged with sorrow. “You’re too young to remember the old days.”
“Otto talks my ear off. I feel like I lived through the war between the states twice.” Her soft laughter chased away the sadness and warmed his heart. “We’d best go.”
“I’m sure your men are impatient. They’ve been trapped in town all day.”
“They aren’t complaining.” A lengthy visit to town without the promise of chores waiting was a rare treat.
Grace tugged on Heather’s bonnet. “Ga!”
“Even Grace is impatient,” Sterling said.
“We’ve gotten to know each other quite well over the past week, haven’t we, darling?”
Grace wrapped her arms around Heather’s neck and hugged her.
Their obvious affection for each other left him feeling like an unwanted interloper. The two had grown remarkably attached in a short period of time. The difference a few days had made was astonishing. Heather wasn’t nearly as nervous and skittish with the child as she’d been that first day in the church.
Though Sterling kept his own counsel, Grace’s anonymous past sat heavy on his soul, and the mystery surrounding her arrival left him uneasy. He’d never been comfortable with the unknown. Mysteries had a way of unraveling at the most inopportune moments. There was always a chance someone might come for the child. And while whoever had abandoned Grace had plenty of explaining to do, Sterling didn’t know who the law would side with if that person returned.
One thing was certain. There was no way Heather was giving up the child without a fight. In the past week, she’d embraced Grace with her whole heart, and the depth of that attachment was evident.
He climbed into the wagon and lifted Gracie up, then extended his arm. His new wife accepted his assistance, clasping his hand with her gloved fingers and releasing it almost immediately. He adjusted the blanket over the two of them and gathered the reins.
Her gaze lingered on the schoolhouse. Anxious to be on the road before dark, he paused only a moment before flicking the reins against the horse’s backs.
The sun was low on the horizon by the time they gathered the men, and Sterling kept the introductions brief in deference to the gathering dusk.
“This here is Joe, Woodley, Ben and Price. You know Otto. They live in a bunkhouse on the property. They cook for and keep to themselves.”
The men offered their congratulations and took their places in the back of the wagon. There was no room for Otto with Heather’s belonging taking up space, and the wagon tipped as he took his seat up front.
Heather scooted closer to Sterling. She attempted to leave a space between them, but the uneven roads and rusty springs soon had them bumping together. They were wedged side by side from shoulder to hip. The warmth of their bodies mingled, chasing away the worst of the chill.
Heather had gathered Gracie onto her lap. She kissed the child’s temple and smoothed the wild red curls from her face. Seeing the two of them together, a wall of emotion threatened Sterling’s composure. He was completely unprepared for the task ahead. He felt inadequate.
He’d lived a solitary life these past few years. He didn’t mind socializing, and he had plenty of acquaintances, yet he’d never spent a significant amount of time with one woman. He’d never had to progress past perfunctory conversation. Women sometimes flirted with him, but he’d never been comfortable with the attention. He’d flash a smile and make a joke, and they didn’t take him too seriously after that. He sure wasn’t ready for the responsibility of a wife and child in addition to his other difficulties.
Such as continuing to deal with the shock of losing his pa. It had dredged up many old feelings, and he was loath to sort through them just yet. He’d returned home and found a place he didn’t remember. In only two years, the ranch had become unrecognizable. The cattle herd had dwindled, the ranch hands were gone and the house was hollow and empty. Even with all the changes, returning to his deserted childhood home had exacerbated old hurts he’d long ago buried.
His ma’s death had wounded him more than he’d realized. She’d been the one bright constant in his life. She’d doted on him, a fact he hadn’t appreciated until she was gone. His pa wasn’t interested in a weak momma’s boy, and Sterling had become a man when they’d tossed the first shovel of dirt over her casket. He’d erected a sturdy barricade around his heart after that and locked the pain inside.
Otto glanced over Heather’s head and gave Sterling a wink. “Fine day for a new beginning.”
“Indeed.”
Sterling glanced away, turning his attention toward the horizon. A house needed a woman’s touch. Together with Gracie, they’d breathe life into the silent, empty rooms. The idea of tiny feet running through his childhood home once more sent an ache of longing through his chest. He might not be ready for the future he’d just signed on for, but there were benefits to be had.
His grip tightened on the reins, and the stiff leather dug into his gloved hands. He wasn’t a sentimental man. He didn’t know why his thoughts had drifted in that direction. A house was a house, no matter who lived inside.
He glanced at Heather’s profile. “Are you warm enough?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
He noticed with satisfaction that she wasn’t trying to scoot away anymore.
Darkness had fallen by the time they reached the ranch. Grace was sound asleep, her head firmly nestled against Heather’s chin. She sat rigid, her head jerking upright when she lapsed into a doze.
As proof of their exhaustion, the usually rowdy men were subdued and quiet. They emptied the wagon in short order and set about the evening chores. Sterling took the child from Heather’s arms. Otto assisted her before circling to the front of the wagon and grasping the horses’ halters.
Heather stumbled a bit, and Sterling steadied her with his free hand. “You’ve had a long day.”
Pressing her fingers against her lips, she stifled a yawn. “I’m sorry. I can hardly keep my eyes open.”
Inside the door he lit the wick on a lantern set on the side table and motioned her up the stairs. “I have a lady from town who comes around once a month to do the cleaning. She came last week, which means the bedding has been aired. When ma was alive, we had a cook who did the housekeeping duties, but there hasn’t been any need since she passed away.”
Pride kept him from mentioning there’d been no money to hire another housekeeper once he’d moved back home. If Heather needed more help, he’d broach the subject later. Come next fall, he’d have the finances back in order.
“Gracie and I will look after ourselves,” Heather replied sleepily.
Once upstairs, they situated Gracie first, pushing the bed against the wall and placing a dresser against the other side to keep her from falling out.
“I think there’s a cradle in the storage loft in the barn,” Sterling said. “I’ll check tomorrow.”
They passed through the washroom, and Heather did a double take. “I forgot you have running water.”
“My ma insisted. She was from back East, and she’d always had a washroom. The house isn’t very big, but it’s got plenty of nice features.”
“I’ve never had running water before. I’ll miss a lot of things about the schoolhouse, but that isn’t one of them.
Her wistful longing for the schoolhouse had his chest constricting. He’d taken for granted the comforts he’d had all his life. There were times he’d even been resentful. A man wanted to build something of his own. He was tired of being seen as an extension of his pa. He wanted men to respect him for his own abilities, not for the land he’d inherited. And the land was about the only thing he had left.
If folks in town had noticed his pa scaling back on the outfit, they assumed he was slowing with age and not because of financial necessity. If Sterling rebuilt the ranch to its former glory, he’d prove to himself that he was worthy of what his pa had started.
But Gracie and Heather were a hitch in his plans. And Dillon’s continued absence exacerbated the problem. In the next few months he’d need every penny and every minute of the day to turn the failing ranch around.
His knees had nearly buckled when Otto had declared their intent to marry in church. Not to mention he’d been plum bushwhacked by Heather’s rejection of Dillon.
What hadn’t been in question was Heather’s fierce protectiveness of Grace.
Unless she married someone quick, she risked losing the child. More than anything else, he’d agreed to the hasty marriage to keep her together with the babe. At least for the time being. The future wasn’t written yet.
“My room is across the way.” He jerked his thumb in the general direction. “I’ll fetch your trunk and let you get some rest.”
Despite the hardships that would certainly come with this arrangement, when he’d stood before the reverend, he’d felt no regret. He’d experienced a moment of doubt and a distinct twinge of fright at his ability to care for his instant family, but he definitely hadn’t felt regret. He’d sabotaged Heather’s chance at happiness all those years before, and now he had a chance to atone. She needed his name to provide a good life for Gracie, and that’s what he’d given her.
He hoisted her worn trunk onto his shoulder and climbed the stairs. He discovered Heather perched on the tall tester bed unlacing her boots. She startled upright, her boot dangling from her toe, her feet not quite reaching the floor. She was tiny and alone and achingly vulnerable.
Warmth flooded through his chest. Her fiery hair hung in loose waves around her shoulders, and his fingers itched to know if the strands were as soft as they looked. But he held himself in check. If he’d experienced a twinge of fright at thoughts of the future, she must have experienced moments of doubt and panic. She was in a far more helpless position. To put her at ease, he’d assigned her and Gracie rooms on the other side of the house from his. They needed time to settle in and acquaint themselves with their new surroundings.
Heather’s eyelids drooped and she muttered a soft thank-you.
Sterling paused in the doorway. Something was bothering him, and the sooner he brought it out into the open, the better. There was no use avoiding the obvious.
“Gracie’s family may still come for her. You know that, right?”
“No.” She stifled another yawn. “No one will come for her.”
Her complete refusal to even contemplate the idea worried him more than anything else that had happened in the past week. “Listen, Heather. You and I got picked up by a tornado and put down in this place. And that’s the thing about tornadoes—they’re unpredictable. You have to accept that another storm might be on the way, and neither of us can predict what will happen then.”
“No,” she stubbornly insisted. “If they haven’t come for her yet, they aren’t going to.”
“I sure hope you’re right.”
Losing Gracie, even after such a short time, would break her heart. The child was the only thing tying the three of them together.
He hadn’t immediately understood what Heather had meant in church—about how moments in life changed a person. The past few hours had given him perspective, though. His ma’s death had been one of those moments. Encouraging Dillon to enter the cavalry had been one. Setting out on his own two years ago had been yet another.
More than all of those things combined, his decision to say “I do” had changed the course of his life, and if Gracie was gone, Heather was sure to follow.
“Get some rest,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”
There was always the chance Heather and Gracie were exactly what the ranch needed. He only had to persuade her in that direction.
If she regretted her choice when Dillon returned, he’d cross that bridge when the time came. Being her second choice was a lot easier to ignore with his brother gone.
