Chapter 19

nineteen

MARK

“And you’re sure you’re okay with going to the Christmas party?” Candace asked from the passenger seat of my truck a week later. She was worrying her bottom lip again, and I hated that I’d made her so fretful.

I offered up a reassuring smile as I turned onto the long drive that would lead us to Grandpappy’s. “Yeah. I think it’ll be fun.”

The Clarks were good people. I knew nearly everyone who’d be attending simply due to sharing a town and being neighbors in the same line of work. I wasn’t particularly worried about them judging Candace for dating me. She’d become good friends with Bonnie and Mac and Laramie in the months since she’d returned to Kirby Falls.

Plus, the gathering at the farm across the highway had the added benefit of taking place after hours. Or it would be. Candace and I were headed over a little early to help Bonnie set up. There were a few cars and stragglers in the parking lot, but the farm closed at five on Sundays, so the Clarks had decided that would be the best time for their holiday party.

When we got out of the truck, Candace still looked a little nervous, so I reached over and threaded her fingers through mine.

I didn’t know that I’d ever been over to Grandpappy’s during the holiday season, but their decorations were very festive. Our steps slowed as we entered the main gate from the parking area. The freestanding ticket booth was closed at the late hour, but it had been turned into a tiny elf house complete with a red-and-white signpost announcing the North Pole.

“Whoa,” Candace breathed as she took in the General Store. It had large-bulb multicolored lights strung all over and the log cabin–like structure had been decorated to look like a gingerbread house.

Garland and white lights were draped along every fence line. We followed the main path past the field they typically used for a pumpkin patch. Now it held a vast collection of evergreens, in all shapes and sizes. The Grandpappy’s Christmas tree lot was twice the size of the one at Judd’s. We continued walking until we ran into MacKenzie.

“Hey, y’all,” she greeted. “I’m just going out to round up the rest of the tourists. We have a few folks who can’t read the closing time on the sign out front.”

“We came a little early to help Bonnie,” Candace said.

Mac pointed with her radio in one hand. “She and Danny are down by the gazebo. They were bringing some tables over.”

“Thank you,” Candace replied. “We’ll go find her and see you in a little bit.”

“Good luck with the stragglers,” I told Mac.

She grinned, her red lips taking on a maniacal glee. “Oh, they’ll need the luck. I can’t wait to boot them out.”

Candace and I laughed as Mac took off in the opposite direction, her long dark ponytail swinging happily as she went to ruin someone’s day.

“Does she know Brady’s coming?” I murmured quietly, in case she could hear me.

“I warned her,” Candace replied just as softly. “Maybe that’s why she’s wearing red. So the blood won’t show.”

Chuckling, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and directed us down the path to the gazebo and the pond.

Without the apple cannon going this late in the year, the Clarks had installed a fountain in the center of the water. It had a light feature shining on the spray that was just visible in the waning afternoon light. The alternating red and green would be fun when the sun finally set in the next half hour or so.

A raised voice drew our attention away from the pond, and our steps slowed at the same time. I followed the sound of two figures squaring off in the middle of the gazebo. Bonnie and her husband, Danny, were too far away for us to hear the details of the argument, but it looked pretty heated.

Candace and I came to a complete stop, and I could see the worry on Candace’s face for her friend.

A moment later, Danny uttered something low and harsh and then stalked off through the trees.

Bonnie finally turned to face us as we approached.

“Are you okay?” Candace asked.

Bonnie forced an exaggerated smile and said, “Of course! Thanks for coming to help set up.”

A beat of silence passed where I realized Bonnie was content to ignore what we’d witnessed. She wasn’t going to get into it. Maybe because I was here.

But one thing was for sure, I’d be keeping my eye on Danny Jensen for the rest of the night.

“Sure,” Candace replied brightly, her smile straining at the edges. “Put us to work.”

“Mom and Aunt Maggie outdid themselves on the treats. There are, like, twelve different kinds of cookies.” Bonnie grinned and it was more genuine this time. “They already decorated the food tables. Maybe you can help me unwrap all the dishes and fill some drinks? Becca and Larry are already up there. They’ll help too.”

Candace nodded and, seemingly unable to help herself, reached forward and squeezed Bonnie’s arm. “Yeah. I can do that.”

Bonnie squinted in the distance, and I turned too, worried that Danny was coming back. But it was just Brady, walking down the path to join us.

“Mercer,” Bonnie said, “maybe you and Brady could bring up one of these round tables. Just in case we need more seating than the picnic tables that are already in front of the Bake Shop.”

There were a few white tables and chairs set up around the large gazebo. I nodded. “Happy to.”

We greeted Brady when he arrived, and he agreed to stay and help me cart the table up the hill. Bonnie and Candace took off a moment later to prep the food.

“Mercer, we haven’t really gotten a chance to talk about you dating my sister.”

I eyed Brady skeptically. While he’d been surprised at dinner last week, he hadn’t indicated he was upset. I didn’t think he had a problem with my relationship with Candace, but the guy was a wild card. You could never tell what he was going to do.

“Okay. Let’s hear it.”

With a commiserating look, he went on, “I know she can be a real pill. She is annoyingly extroverted. And don’t tell her I said this, but she’s good at nearly everything. It’s disgusting. Oh, and she talks in her sleep.”

“I know.”

Brady made a face. “Gross, man. Keep that shit to yourself. She’s my sister.”

I sighed and kept my gaze flat.

He continued unaffected, “She’s super competitive. Don’t ever expect to win a game of Monopoly or anything without her being a brat about it. Oh, and her morning breath is rank. Don’t let it scare you off.”

“What are you doing, Brady? Aren’t you supposed to be warning me away? Threatening bodily harm? Holding a grudge that I’m dating your sister and we hid it from you?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, I don’t love that you went behind our backs, but I figure you had your reasons. Plus, Candace is an adult. I don’t need to come over here and threaten to break your kneecaps or slash your tires. You’re the best fucking guy I know, Mercer. You’re not going to break my baby sister’s heart.”

I shook my head, feeling a smile tip up the corners of my lips. Brady was often ridiculous, and rarely serious, but his endorsement meant a lot. “Thanks, Brady. I won’t—hurt her, you know.”

He nodded solemnly and then straightened, his gaze darting over my shoulder.

I turned to see Candace jogging toward us, a frantic sort of energy radiating from her.

Brady’s posture and demeanor changed. He crossed his arms and said loudly, “You better be good to my sister!” Then he winked at me. “Or you’ll have to answer to me!” He gave me a subtle thumbs-up just as Candace reached us, and I rolled my eyes.

“What are you doing, doofus?” she asked, eyeing him warily and clearly noticing that the table we were supposed to be transporting had been abandoned on its side, legs half folded in.

“As your protective older brother, I’m making sure Mercer here knows the score.”

“Oh, Lord,” Candace groaned.

My mind drifted to the tense standoff from earlier and Danny Jensen’s angry features. I placed a hand on her elbow and drew her attention, suddenly worried about what brought her back to the gazebo. “Is everything okay up at the Bake Shop?”

“Yep,” she practically squeaked, and my eyes narrowed. Her gaze darted toward the path and then back to me. “I came to help Brady with the table because I need you to run back to the truck and grab my toboggan for me. I’m freezing.”

My eyes searched her face. Something was going on. Candace looked off-balance, and it was at least fifty-five degrees today. We weren’t even wearing our big winter coats. Why would she want a hat all of a sudden?

If it had been my birthday, I would have said she was trying to lure me somewhere for a surprise party. But since it wasn’t, I just looked at her a moment longer while she practically squirmed under my scrutiny. Finally, I nodded. “Okay, I’ll run back to the truck.”

A breath gusted out of her and she smiled widely. “Thank you!” Then she kissed me on the lips, and Brady made a gagging sound in the background .

They bickered about PDA while folding in the remaining table legs as I walked off in the direction of the parking lot.

Halfway there I remembered that Candace hadn’t even brought her toboggan. The knitted pink hat with the pom-pom on top was, at this very moment, hanging on my coatrack by the back door. She’d worn it last night when she went out to see the cat. Her daily attempt to try and sweet-talk him into letting her pet him.

With a shake of my head, I spun around by the entrance to the General Store and pivoted back toward the Orchard Bake Shop, where the festivities were taking place tonight. I figured I was too late to intercept them and carry the table the rest of the way. Candace and Brady were likely already there.

A few minutes later, the long narrow building that housed the farm’s year-round bakery came into view. It had a covered front porch with plenty of picnic tables for tourists to enjoy their treats, or for a weekend Christmas party for Grandpappy’s employees and their friends. There were a lot more people milling about now. I spotted a handful of Clarks sitting and drinking and carrying dishes out the half door of the Bake Shop.

The rest of the Judds had arrived too. Joan was chatting with Will and his girlfriend, Becca. And Nick and Amy were talking to Will’s father, William.

I caught sight of Brady and Candace positioning the table they’d carried while Maggie Clark directed them.

Chloe—the other Bake Shop employee—was at the order window while a man I didn’t recognize and a little girl with blond hair waited.

Mac was nearby with the stragglers she’d rounded up, and she tapped her foot impatiently, clearly waiting on the man and the child.

Stepping onto the wooden decking of the covered porch, I muttered a polite “excuse me” to a pregnant woman whose back was turned, blocking the way to where I was headed.

“Oh sorry,” she said as she pivoted out of the way, and I stopped dead in my tracks as the voice and the face registered.

“Hannah,” I said in surprise.

She looked the same as the last time I’d seen her, over two and a half years ago. Well, except for the very obvious pregnancy. But then again, I’d seen her pregnant too. She was wearing jeans and stylish boots with heels, so maybe her ankles weren’t quite as swollen this time around. Her hair was longer than it had been, but she was still the spitting image of my ex-wife, and for the life of me, I could not understand what she was doing here.

“Mark,” she breathed.

Before I could recover, Hannah’s parents stepped up beside her. Reverend Price had aged in the last few years. I hadn’t heard from him at all since the divorce was finalized. His once salt-and-pepper hair had gone completely gray. He still wore wire-framed glasses that gave him a wise and studious air. He and his wife stared at me with twin expressions of contempt so acute they must have practiced them in the mirror every morning.

It took me a minute, but I realized that Candace had known. I bet she’d sent me to the car to keep me away. It was especially obvious once I glanced over and saw the horrified look on her face as she witnessed this painful reunion go down. The Prices must have been part of the group Mac was so looking forward to escorting out. But she probably couldn’t give a proper boot to the local Baptist preacher and his family.

All of a sudden, awareness stole through me. If Hannah was here, then that meant?—

My gaze scanned the area for a stroller or a baby in someone’s arms. But Lyndsey would be three years old now—four next month. She wasn’t the chubby-cheeked, happy infant from my memories.

Once my brain caught up, I remembered. Slowly, I turned my head to the order window, twenty feet away. The man and the little girl were still there, only now he was holding her. She laughed while Chloe grinned and handed her a cookie.

My breath came out like I’d taken a punch. Greedily, I cataloged all the changes. The hair that was long and slightly curled at the ends. The way her body had grown. But her face—with those striking green eyes that belonged to neither me nor her mother—was so familiar that my chest felt tight.

“Mark, I—” Hannah cut herself off, but I still didn’t look away. I couldn’t. Lyndsey was right here, and it had been so long.

The little girl leaned forward, hand outstretched, and I had a moment of panic as she lunged out of the man’s arms. But he caught her smoothly as she and Chloe shared a grinning high five.

“That’s what it looks like when a real man takes care of his family.”

The words were unemotional and matter-of-fact, in a voice from my past. The same one that had given me patient instructions on how to drive a stick shift and how to replant a tomato seedling. The same man who’d prayed over every dinner I’d shared at his table since I was twelve years old.

Candace must have reached my side at some point because her gasp was what finally turned my attention away from the scene at the order window. It took a lot to drag my gaze away. I wanted to linger over all the changes in Lyndsey that I hadn’t noticed right away. I ached to step closer, to hear her little voice.

Abruptly I realized that the Prices must have decided on Grandpappy’s for their family outing because they’d been sure they’d never run into me here. Hannah didn’t come back to Kirby Falls. I hadn’t seen her since she moved to Tennessee, a month before the divorce was final. But she was here now, practically begging me with her gaze not to cause a scene, not to make waves, not to reveal the truth.

“Daddy, let’s just go,” was what actually came out of her mouth.

But no one moved. Hannah’s father kept his gaze trained on me.

I felt Candace’s hand slip into mine.

“Reverend,” I said in greeting. “Mrs. Price.” And finally, “Hannah, how have you been?”

My former best friend bit her lip, looking miserable.

“You don’t get to ask that, young man,” the reverend asserted. “You gave up your family, and you don’t get to worry about how they are now.”

I didn’t reply. There was nothing I could say. No defense I could mount or argument I could pursue without revealing too much.

Awkward silence descended once more.

It wasn’t my voice that emerged into the charged atmosphere next. “How can you stand there?” Candace snapped angrily. She’d dropped my hand and stepped slightly in front of me. But her words weren’t directed at Reverend Price, she was staring directly at Hannah .

“How can you just let him take the fall for you over and over? You can’t even say hi? Be friendly? Ask how he’s been since you upended his life?”

I placed a staying hand on Candace’s arm. She was practically vibrating, and I realized this was about to go very badly.

“Candace,” I murmured quietly in her ear, but her attention was wholly on Hannah.

Briefly, Hannah looked surprised by Candace’s presence, how this former classmate had elbowed her way into this situation, the way she was positioned protectively between us. Hannah’s eyes moved back and forth between us until they narrowed to slits in realization. Then she raised her chin and said, “You don’t know what you’re talking about. This is none of your business.”

“I know more than you think,” Candace gritted out. “And a hell of a lot more than your own family. You’re a selfish brat who’s content to throw a good man under the bus. Do you like playing the victim? Is that what it is?”

“Candace,” I hissed as my pulse thundered and panic slithered up my spine.

But she didn’t hear me. “Did you know that he gets accosted on the street by your father’s church ladies? They bad-mouth him and spread lies about him all in your honor. You’re a lying, narcissistic user.”

Hannah’s mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.

The next voice I heard was the reverend’s. “What is this all about, Hannah Marie?”

“Candace, stop,” I hissed, trying to maneuver around her.

But she was determined. “After everything Mark did for you,” Candace continued, flinging her arms wide and dislodging my hold. “He protected you. He married you. Saved you from being pregnant and disowned. He kept your secrets and went along with your lies. And you never even once thought about coming clean, helping him in return.”

Before she could say more, Lyndsey barreled into Hannah’s side, grinning happily and wrapping herself around her mother’s legs. Hannah managed to look away from her accuser and reach for her daughter, mustering up a pained smile. “Hi, baby. Did you get your cookie? ”

All I wanted was to watch—to look at Lyndsey up close. Instead, I forced myself to use the disruption to grab Candace’s hand and tug her away from the scene she’d made infinitely worse.

The man who’d been with Lyndsey at the counter was staring at the tense standoff in confusion. Candace was still red-faced and angry, but she let me lead her away.

Hannah listened as her daughter kept up a steady stream of chatter, but she looked brittle, like one strong breeze would shatter her.

It was the final glimpse of the group, though, that had me even more desperate to escape. Reverend Price and his wife were staring at me. And they weren’t wearing their rehearsed expressions of disapproval. They looked utterly shell-shocked.

I ignored the questions in their gaze, the sudden awareness, the disbelief.

As I led Candace away from the Bake Shop, I noticed everyone’s eyes were trained on us. Neighbors and friends and Candace’s family too. But I couldn’t focus on that. Something tragic and terrible settled like a weight around my neck.

I couldn’t believe Candace had been so reckless and rash. She’d taken it upon herself to cast doubt and suspicion on my marriage to Hannah. She’d practically revealed the truth right there for everyone to hear.

My breaths were coming fast, sawing in and out, as my steps quickened and my heart pounded. I dropped Candace’s hand, desperate to get away from the mess she’d made. Her footsteps trailed me, but escape was my only concern at present.

Vaguely I heard Mac announce that it was time for all farm visitors to go due to a private event.

My feet carried me farther onto the farm, off the worn dirt path and over grass, until I reached the gazebo, right where we’d started. With my hands on my hips, I paced to the railing to stare out at the water. But I didn’t see the ripples on the surface or the fountain in the center. The red and green lights didn’t register over the blood rushing in my ears.

When I could manage a full breath, I turned to face Candace. She stood in the middle of the gazebo, her arms crossed, her face flushed, and her gaze focused on the wooden planks beneath her boots.

“That wasn’t your place, Candace.”

She nodded slowly but still wouldn’t look at me. “That’s probably true, but I couldn’t just stand there and let them treat you like that.”

“Do you understand the damage you just caused?”

Finally, her eyes rose to meet mine and anger flared anew. “I was protecting you. You deserve to have someone stand up for you.”

I was already shaking my head. “Not like that. Not at someone else’s expense.” Candace opened her mouth, the argument ready and waiting on her tongue, but I shook my head again. “No, you don’t get to decide that. It’s not your job to breeze back into town and upend everyone’s lives. You don’t have the right to mete out justice as you see fit. I planned to honor my word to Hannah.”

Candace released a frustrated breath. “I am so fucking tired of you defending that girl. She’s a monster. And what has all that honor gotten you, Mark? While Hannah plays the victim with her family and her friends and everyone in this town, you stay home. You don’t go out. You hide away to keep the peace. You’re the villain of her story when you should have been the hero. People gossip and hold something against you that isn’t even true. You don’t correct them. You don’t defend yourself. You live this small existence. It’s not fair!”

Her shouted words echoed across the landscape, and I felt them vibrate painfully through my bones.

Of course, I lived with the decisions I’d made. And yeah, at times, I resented Hannah. After all, she got to lead the life I’d agreed to...without me in it. There was a three-year-old holding her hand right now who didn’t even remember me. It wasn’t just my reputation I’d lost. It was bigger than that, and Candace didn’t have the right to question the way I lived now as a result.

As I struggled to steady myself, Candace took a step closer and lowered her voice. “Aren’t you tired of living a lie that’s not even yours? Aren’t you tired of being held hostage in your own home?”

“My life is quiet,” I argued. “It’s small, and I’m okay with that.” I’d lost the only family I’d ever known, and Candace wanted to focus on trivialities, like how I stayed home on Friday nights.

She pressed her hands together in a pleading gesture. “It’s small because you’ve accepted it as your due. You don’t think you deserve more, so you’re settling for less. You let Hannah whittle you down and for what? So she can save face because she’s too cowardly to admit the truth? She’s not a kid anymore. You don’t need to keep making excuses for her. She used you and then cast you aside when it no longer suited her. And she’s not sorry. She’s not even here. She ran away so she wouldn’t have to see you and face what she’d done. Kirby Falls isn’t her home anymore. It’s yours, but you’re a prisoner here, Mark. Can’t you see that?”

Her words were salt in an open wound, one I’d ignored and left untreated for a very long time. Pain and anger had me lashing out to protect myself from the new threat—Candace and her accusations, a dozen things I didn’t want to think about all while an image of a little girl I barely recognized flashed behind my eyes.

“You were the one who saw Kirby Falls as a prison,” I countered spitefully. “You were the one who needed to run away to make something of yourself. Maybe everything and everyone here is just too small for you, Candace. This is my life, and I like it just fine.”

“You’re happy?” she challenged.

“I’m fine,” I insisted.

She drew in a slow breath and watched me for a long moment. “I’m sorry for what I said back there. And how I said it. You’re right. It wasn’t my place, but I couldn’t stand there?—”

“You should have let me handle it,” I interrupted.

Hazel eyes flashed incredulously. “Handle it? You were paralyzed by the sight of that little girl. The one Hannah ripped out of your life.”

“Don’t,” I warned, that old hurt now fully reopened, pulling angrily at the stitches helpless to keep it closed.

“I couldn’t let them say that stuff to you,” she insisted as her frustration mounted, “knowing you’d just stand there and take it. ”

“Stop.”

“You’d take the abuse like you’d earned it.”

“Candace, please,” I begged.

“No!” she shouted. “I love you and I’m not going to stop!”

I stared at her in disbelief, but she didn’t look sorry, just determined.

I imagined hearing her declaration any other time. Around a bonfire. Riding shotgun. In the bed of my truck, staring at an ocean of stars.

Not wielded like a weapon in the heat of battle. Not used as an excuse or a defensive maneuver. An explanation and a justification.

Suddenly Candace released a shuddering breath and a sad little laugh, as if she’d just realized she’d admitted she loved me by slinging it at me with a clenched fist. “You might not care about defending yourself, but I’m always going to be on your side, whether you want me there or not. You’re the best person I know. I don’t want that to be a secret—how good you are.”

With a quiet sniff, she brought her thumb up to her cheek and flicked away an errant tear. “I’m sorry.” Her voice broke at the end and her face crumpled. She spun quickly before I could say anything—what, I didn’t fucking know. And then she darted up the path and away from me.

I stayed frozen. It felt like someone took a hammer to a gong inside my chest. Past and present were colliding in a clang of emotions all while my heart pounded out a rhythm of dread.

Amid all the thoughts swirling in my head, one emerged shakily to the surface. I realized that I’d lied to Brady earlier. God, not even an hour ago. I’d been so sure I’d never do anything to hurt his sister, but here we were.

She’d done what she thought was right. Maybe she’d been rash and emotional, reacting badly on my behalf. But I had hurt her.

And she’d hurt me too.

Maybe that was what love was—giving someone the ability to wound you. A finely honed weapon with the means to leave a permanent mark. A blade, quick and sharp between the ribs. Because that’s what it felt like as I struggled with the pain coursing through me.

And like nothing at all had changed, I stood there and watched her walk away.