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“So,” he said, cradling his coffee in both hands as he faced her across the table. “Have you thought things over?”
“That’s all I did last night.” She sipped her coffee, her lips trembling against the rim of the cup. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Neither could I.” His dark eyes roved over her, sadness pooling in them. “You’re not staying, are you?”
She remained silent and sipped her coffee again, then asked softly, “If you found out you only had one month left of life, what would you do with it? How would you spend it?”
He frowned, an exasperated expression crossing his face. “Jo—”
“Please,” she said, evoking their private joke. “Humor me?”
The displeasure in his eyes faded but he clenched his jaw, then said, “I’d certainly want to live it to the fullest.”
“I’d hope so.” She set her mug on the table and leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “My time is the most valuable asset I have. I don’t want to spend one day of it doing something I don’t believe in.” She looked down, interlocking her fingers and squeezing to still the tremors running through them. “When I started teaching, I loved it, and I had such high hopes for the future. I really thought I could make a difference and I truly believe I did for a while.” She glanced up, meeting his eyes. “But over time, things changed, and I didn’t feel as though I were in the right place anymore. I lost my joy in it and I felt like a pawn. I didn’t want to believe it, but after I finally accepted that I needed to move on . . . that there was something better waiting for me somewhere else, I was able to picture a different future. One where I regained control of my life again.”
Brooks reached out and covered her hands with his. “Jo . . . I—”
“Do you remember when we first met? The busted lip I sported?” Smiling ruefully, she lifted her hand and tapped her bottom lip. “It took getting socked in the mouth by some kid for me to let that place go. That’s how devoted I was to teaching—to a career that was offering me nothing but pain and degradation in return for my time and dedication.” She placed her hand on his wrist, feeling his pulse beat softly against her thumb. “Natasha—the student that hit me—she was in an argument with another student and just couldn’t let it go. As a matter of fact, she was always fighting with everyone who crossed her path. So many of us at that school tried to help her, tried to coax her into turning her life around but the thing was, no matter what we did, she never made the choice to commit to change. And that was one thing we couldn’t do for her—that had to come from her.”
She leaned closer, squeezing his wrist and hand. “You could spend every moment of your life from this point forward strategizing, putting together plans, and pursuing some form of retribution against Spencer Harris and never find what you’re looking for. I suspect what you’re really looking for isn’t something you’ll ever receive from him.”
His mouth tightened and he stared down at their joined hands. “And what is it you think I’m looking for?”
“A way to make the pain go away,” she said softly. “You have so much already, Brooks, and none of it is making you happy. Hurting Spencer isn’t going to erase the bad memories you’re carrying or give you back the time you lost with your parents. But you do have a choice in terms of how you spend the time you have ahead of you.” She reached out and cupped his cheek, drifting her thumb over his strong jaw, the dark stubble on his cheeks rough against her skin. “Choose to let this feud with Spencer Harris go and come back to Lone Oaks Crossing with me. Put him—and the regrets—behind you and start over. Build a new life that makes you happy with me and Cheyenne. With Frankie and Earl. With the kids you’ve been helping at Dream House. You’re not alone, Brooks. Come home to Lone Oaks and start fresh.”
He was quiet for a while, holding her gaze. Then he turned his head, took her hand in his, and kissed the center of her palm. “I wish I could, Jo. But I can’t.”
Heart breaking, Jo closed her eyes, memorizing the feel of his lips against her skin and the deep throb of his voice. “Okay.” She stood, walked around the table, and leaned down, brushing a tender kiss across his mouth. “You know where I’ll be.”
“Jo.”
She paused on the way to the door and glanced back at him. “You won’t have any trouble finding a trainer now.” She smiled. “Everyone’ll be lining up for a chance to work with Another Round—and you—in one way or another.”
He was standing now, his lean cheeks flushed and chin trembling. “You’re really quitting?”
Wet heat trickled down her cheeks as she nodded. “Sometimes that’s the only way to move forward. And it’s the hardest—not the easiest—thing to do. To let go of what’s not healthy or not working. It’s the right choice for me. I don’t feel guilty about that anymore. I’m on a new path now—have been for a while. One where I can make a difference in Cheyenne’s life and help her find her way in a loving home. Maybe do the same for other kids at Dream House who need support in a way that a traditional school can no longer provide. One where I can spend my days with my family, taking care of Earl, supporting Frankie, and choosing how I spend my time on my own terms. A life that’s safer and more joyful than the one I had before.” She walked to the door and opened it, saying over her shoulder as she left, “I just wish we could have traveled that path together.”
* * *
Packing was easy but later that morning, after leaving Brooks’s hotel room and returning to her own, breaking the news to Cheyenne was much more difficult than Jo had anticipated.
“What do you mean we’re going back to Lone Oaks?” Cheyenne scowled at Jo as she laid her suitcase on the bed in their hotel room, opened it, and began filling it with her belongings. “Another Round just won the Derby. Frankie said that means he has a shot at the Triple Crown and that Brooks’ll probably take him on to the Preakness race.”
Jo walked over to the dresser, opened a drawer, and scooped out her clothes, then went back to the bed and tossed them into her open suitcase. “Brooks is taking Another Round to the Preakness, but we won’t be accompanying him.”
Confused, Cheyenne narrowed her eyes, tilted her head back, and skimmed her gaze over the ceiling as though an explanation dangled from the heavens. “I don’t get it. Another Round just won. He’s going on to the Preakness with Brooks, and we’re going home? But . . . you’re Another Round’s trainer. You can’t just leave him in the middle of a competition.”
Jo returned to the dresser, opened a second drawer, and withdrew the pants she’d placed there two weeks earlier, then tossed them in the suitcase, too. “I can and I will.” Sighing, Jo walked around and sat on the edge of the double bed, facing Cheyenne, who stood beside hers. “Look, I’m not going to explain every detail of my decision, but I will share with you that I’m not interested in accompanying Another Round to the Preakness—or to any other race, for that matter.”
Cheyenne slumped onto the edge of her bed, facing her. “But why?”
“Do you remember when I told you what to expect here at the Derby and that I’d been here before?” Jo asked.
Still scowling, Cheyenne nodded.
“The horse I trained back then—Sweet Dash—we took him on to the Preakness after he won the Derby, and things didn’t turn out so well for him there. He had an accident on the track and we ended up having to put him down.” She rubbed her eyes, the strain of the morning catching up to her. “Up to that point, we’d had great luck, you see? And we thought our luck would just continue on forever. We didn’t think about stopping. About taking our win and our healthy horse back home where he could be safe and happy. We would still have had a world-renowned thoroughbred to flaunt.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to take that risk with Another Round. I don’t want to be a part of taking the chance that Another Round’s luck may run out. Plus, my agreement with Brooks to serve as his trainer only involved getting Another Round to the Derby and, hopefully, helping him secure a win. I’ve done that. So now, it’s time to go home.”
“But . . .” Cheyenne looked down and dragged her bare feet across the carpet. “I thought you guys were, I don’t know, like together or whatever.”
