“I’m sorry about before. I really am. With Peter, it didn’t mean anything.”
“It isn’t that.”
“Then what?” My grip tightened around his hand. “What did I do?”
Baron shook his head. “It isn’t about you. I’m not the person you think I am.”
“But I know about…” I began.
He cut me off. “It goes beyond Walter and his hand. It goes beyond my parentage and what I’ve done in the past.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m a fairly smart person,” I said, rather indignantly. “Try me.”
“I can’t.”
I stared at him. I knew about Baron’s past. Or at least, I knew enough. I had accepted that he had to act the part of the Sheriff to maintain his image, no matter how distasteful some of his tasks became. I had done terrible things too. But he was refusing to let me back in.
I didn’t understand. He had come to my aid when I needed him. He had saved my life when everyone else had accepted my death. He must care about me. He said he loved me… So why was he refusing me?
This sort of hurt and rejection went deeper than any other injury I ever had, right down to my very core. I’d heard that love could hurt, but until this very moment, I hadn’t understood it. Now I did. It was as though my very soul was being cleaved in two.
“Baron, what I did…” My voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry about everything. I choose you.”
His face twisted. “This isn’t about anything you’ve done,” Baron said, frustration roughening his voice. “You don’t need to be sorry.”
“Then what is it?”
He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a sharp breath. “I can’t tell you.”
I was utterly bewildered. “I thought you loved me.”
“I do.”
“Well?” I lifted a weak hand as if to say,Then what’s the problem?
“We just can’t.” His voice dropped. “I want to. I do. But it’s impossible right now. I don’t have an answer for you right now, and I don’t know when I will.” He rose abruptly and ducked out of the hut.
A few minutes later, I heard the heavy hoofbeats of his horse gallop out of camp. I lay there in stunned silence. No matter how hard I focused, I didn’t understand. If he loved me, why didn’t he want to be with me? Had he found someone after I kissed Peter, but didn’t want to tell me? No. That made no sense. Baron had just saved my life by finding someone to heal me when everyone else had given up hope. He wouldn’t have done that if he did not care.
And I had apologized. Was Baron aware of how infrequently I apologized? To anyone? He claimed that this wasn’t about Peter, but I couldn’t see what else it was.
This was why vulnerability was the worst thing to feel. If I’d never opened myself up enough for him to see exactly where to hurt me, I wouldn’t have to endure this unbearable ache.
I stared at the doorway long after he was gone, trying furiously to dissect the problem. If we loved each other, that should’ve been enough. We could work through anything as a team. But now, Baron was saying he didn’t want to. At some point, I had ruined my chance at a future with him.
If only I knew how.
BARON
Ineeded to see Mother Margarite again. She must have misunderstood me. That was the only explanation I could cling to. Perhaps she knew of me from my former life, when I wouldn’t have hesitated to kill King Richard if ordered to do so. My allegiances had changed. I wasn’t the same man anymore.
I couldn’t kill the king. If I killed him, I would never be accepted into the Merry Men. I would lose Laurel forever. She would hate me until the day I died, and rightly so. I didn’t want to be a murderer and thwart the very cause that Laurel and the Merry Men believed in so much. But nor could I lose Laurel.
I’d been given an impossible task. And of course, the moment I was grappling with the decision was the moment Laurel had asked to get back together. She said she chose me. She must know how badly I wanted to say yes.
