AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“She’s not. I’ve kicked her out. Sent her away.”
“Where did she go?”
“I don’t know. I suggested the Graff, but she might have decided to keep driving on to Bozeman.”
“If she’s at the Graff I might have the chance to see her tomorrow. That would be fun.”
“Now you’re just being sarcastic.” But his tone was mild and he seemed to be fighting a smile.
“Of course you think this is funny. But you should have seen her, swanning around your house, telling me how much she loved you and how she seemed to be the only one who truly understood you.”
“If I thought she understood me, we’d be together, but we’re not. We haven’t been together, in any size, shape or form since July fifth.”
“And yet she’s here. She said you needed your sports memorabilia and you asked her to fly them out.”
“I asked her to mail them.”
“Maybe it’s time you introduced her to the US Postal Service.” Charity sat for a moment, trying to organize her chaotic feelings, but her head wasn’t working. Her thoughts were wild and this conversation was just going in circles.
Was it only two days ago that they’d skated at Miracle Lake? Was it just two days ago that she’d confessed her true feelings? If only she could take that afternoon back. If only she could somehow protect her heart.
Quinn wasn’t safe.
Quinn was just more instability and heartache.
“I need to get to bed,” she said, reaching for the truck’s door handle. “Please let me know if Rusty Noel is there when you get home, or if he shows up later. I don’t care what time it is.”
“I promise,” Quinn answered, opening his truck door to come around and open hers. He gave her a hand, assisting her out. He walked with her to the front door. “Charity, things are going to be okay.”
She wished she could be so sure. She dug her key out of her purse and gave him a troubled look as she unlocked the front door. “Good night, Quinn.”
He kissed the top of her head. If he felt her stiffen and pull away, he gave no indication. “Good night, Charity.”
*
Quinn drove back to Paradise Valley feeling worse than he had in a very long time.
Things had been going well, so well, until tonight.
He’d felt good being back in Montana. He’d felt happy… contented… at peace.
He’d felt at home.
Charity was the one who’d made him feel at home, too. She made everything feel right.
She was the missing piece. He wanted her in his life, and he still firmly believed she was meant to be in his life, and yet it was a shock to realize how fragile her trust in him was, and how quickly Alice had damaged Charity’s sense of self.
Charity was the one he wanted. In her eyes, he could see the life he wanted… he could see the future he wanted. But she had to want it, too.
She had to trust him, and she had to have more faith in herself. He knew her childhood had left her scarred and scared, but at some point, you had to let the past go, or it would haunt you forever.
Could she do that?
Could she learn to believe in him….and them?
Their relationship wouldn’t survive if they both didn’t fight for it. One person couldn’t do all the heavy lifting. There had to be some kind of glue to keep them together when hard times came, because hard times would come. Hopefully, he’d never have to live through another tragedy. Hopefully, he’d never lose to violence anyone else he loved, but faith was still required, for situations large and small. Faith in God, faith in others, and faith in one’s self.
Quinn didn’t care that Charity didn’t like sports or follow baseball, but he cared very much about her opinion of him. He’d devoted his life to his sport, and to working with youth, and trying to use his platform to help others. He was a strong person, and he lived life with conviction, but every now and then he needed support. He could use Charity’s support now.
It was a long night, and Quinn slept badly. He tossed and turned and then left bed at four thirty to make coffee and watch the news.
It was just six when his phone rang, with an early call from Sawyer.
“Sorry for the crack of dawn call, but I figured you’d be worried. Your dog is here,” Sawyer said. “We woke up to find him asleep in the barn. Not sure how he found a way in, but Jenna discovered him curled up on a wool blanket by the cash register.”
Quinn exhaled with relief. “Thank goodness. I’ll call Charity and let her know. We drove around until midnight looking for him.”
“I’m not sure why he came here, unless he was looking for you, and thought you might be here.”
“I should have brought him back with me last night, after I went over to my house. An ex-girlfriend had stopped by. She wasn’t very nice to him. Rusty Noel must’ve been spooked.”
“Rusty Noel?”
“His name is Rusty, but Charity still thinks of him as Noel, so Rusty Noel it is.”
“You do know that sounds like Rusty Nail, don’t you?”
Quinn laughed, and then his laugh faded. “Hey, do you think your man Rob can handle opening this morning without me? I’d like to come get the dog and take him to Charity. I’m sure Sam won’t mind if the dog camps out by her desk today, and I know she’d be thrilled to have him.”
“No problem at all. I’m already more mobile than I was. I was thinking I’d try to get out there today and lend a hand. I can’t show trees but I could work the cash register. So no rush. Take your time.”
*
Neither Sam nor Greg was at the office when Charity arrived the next morning. Charity was glad.
As she made a pot of coffee, she blinked hard, her eyes gritty. She’d cried more than she’d slept last night, and this morning after she’d showered, she’d applied ice packs to her eyes to reduce the puffiness.
She’d cried over Alice’s appearance at Quinn’s house. She’d cried with worry over Noel being missing. She’d cried because she was worn out and filled with insecurity, and now that her insecurities had been set loose, they were tearing her apart.
She’d never felt good enough and all it took was one look at poised, polished Alice Sterling to realize Charity had never been Quinn’s type. He was a city guy. He wanted a poised, confident, sophisticated woman. Charity wasn’t that woman.
Heartsick, she carried her cup of coffee to her desk and sat down, turning on her computer, and checking her email. She couldn’t focus on the emails, though. Her thoughts jumped wildly from Noel to Alice to Quinn and then back to Alice, who was most likely enjoying a latte at the Graff right now.
Just picturing Alice at the Graff made Charity want to throw up.
Charity was staring out into the front window, lost in a fog of misery, when she spotted a very familiar man outside, walking a very familiar dog.
Quinn. Noel.
Noel.
She jumped to her feet and rushed toward the front door even as the door opened and Quinn brought the retriever inside. Noel’s tail thumped as Charity gave him a big hug. His coat was cold but he looked well and happy.
“Where did you find him?” Charity asked, glancing up at Quinn.
“He’d gone to the Gallaghers last night. Sawyer and Jenna found him this morning.”
“I’m so glad he’s safe. I’ve been so worried. Maybe I can stop crying now.” Her voice cracked and just like that, tears filled her eyes again.
“How about he stays with you today? I’ll head down to the Mercantile and get him a dog bed and he can lay next to your desk.”
“I’d have to ask Sam,” she said.
“I’ve already called him. He doesn’t have a problem with it.”
Her throat squeezed closed and her heart knotted and she wished they could go back to Sunday where she’d felt so happy, and safe, with him. “In that case, great.”
“While I’m out, can I get you a mocha from Java Café? Maybe one of their delicious breakfast sandwiches?” he
asked.
She shook her head, tears stinging her eyes and sat back down at her desk. “I’m good. Just the bed for Noel. Thank you.”
“Charity,” he said quietly, “you’re getting yourself worked up over nothing.”
Her shoulders rose and fell. “But it’s not nothing, not to me.”
“Alice isn’t a threat.”
“You say that, but she’s still very much in the picture.” She finally forced herself to look up at him and meet his gaze. “I don’t trust her. And maybe because of that, I can’t trust you.”
“Ouch,” he murmured.
She saw him flinch and it just made her feel worse. She wasn’t even sure who she was angry at anymore, only that what had seemed so good now seemed like an illusion. “She’s not my girlfriend, Quinn,” she said fiercely. “She’s yours, and she’s here, in my town, telling me how she’s the only one that knows you and understands you and that basically, at the end of this, she’s going to be the last woman standing.”
