I shield my eyes from the sun and look around, tilting my head toward the man working the horse. “Is that your husband?”
“Yep.” She waves to him. “Hard to believe he was a city kid, don’t you think?”
I study the man. He’s tall and rugged, and there’s not a trace of city on him. “That’s quite a change. Where you from?”
“Chicago, actually. Although I grew up outside of Rockford. My parents owned a stable, and I thought I wanted to live in the city.” She shrugs. “But it wasn’t home.”
“What a funny coincidence, my brother’s fiancée is from Chicago.”
“Yeah, the opening is the talk of the town.” She smiles at me.
I like her. She has a warmth I can appreciate. “Once the craziness is over, you should come by. I’m sure she’d love to talk to someone who understands what it’s like to miss being able to walk to Nordstrom’s.”
She laughs. “Sounds fun. We’d like that. Is there anything special we could help you with today?”
I bite my lip and dart my gaze to the stable. “I used to spend all my time here when I was growing up. I’ve gotten away from riding, but I find I’m missing it and thought I’d stop by.”
A warm breeze blows, and she pushes her hair over one shoulder. “You’re interested in a ride?”
I nod. “Is that possible?”
“Sure, it’s slow on a Wednesday at one in the afternoon.” She straightens and calls out to her husband. “Tommy, say hello to Cat McKay. I’m going to take her out.”
Tommy waves. “Have fun, honey.”
She turns her attention to me. “He’s a man of many words.”
I laugh.
And just like that, I get a flash of calling out to Caden while he was in the fields—the way the sun shone on his face, casting him in a warm glow as he smiled at me.
I want that—the ease, the surety of him being there, of knowing he’s mine and I’m his. The belonging. I miss it. I miss him.
But it’s too late. It’s over.
I made sure of it.
26
Cat
The stars glitter like diamonds across the darkness as I stare into the night sky. The air is hot and sticky, and what little breeze there is brushes across my skin. It’s humid, but I don’t care.
It feels like home.
The private event is finally here, and the restaurant is blazing like a beacon on the landscape. I slipped out about a half hour ago with a glass of champagne and am now sitting on the front porch steps back at the house.
The house is full again, packed to the gills with friends and family that came to celebrate Gwen and Jackson’s big night. Our hard work paid off, and everything went without a hitch. But right now, while they’re all still at the party, I’m trying to enjoy the silence.
I’m thrilled that my brother Jackson has found his happily ever after. I love Gwen and all the light she brings to our lives. I love even more that Nat has a fantastic mother who is so committed to my niece it brings the sting of tears to my eyes.
They did everything they set out to do. The food was a triumph, and the alcohol flowed freely. They’re all having so much fun, enjoying the fruits of their labor, but I needed to escape all the good cheer and overflowing happiness.
It’s too painful right now.
The ride I took the other day was exactly what I neededandwhat I feared. It didn't make me want to ditch my life and become a horse breeder, but it did remind me what happiness feels like—and that I’d recently been so very close to having everything I ever wanted.
But I do still love riding. So I did make one decision.