Chapter Twenty-Six

Boone

"They're talking about her."

I looked up from the sink, my hands buried in a pile of dirty dishes. Nash stood in the kitchen doorway, his face a mix of frustration and something else I couldn't quite read. "What?" I asked as I dried my hands on a dishtowel.

"Everyone keeps talking about her in the store," he repeated, sounding more aggravated this time. "They don't even care if she can hear them. Today, these two annoying women told her that you should get a paternity test."

What in the actual hell?

I stared at him, processing the words. Magnolia Grove had always been a rumor mill, but I thought people had the decency to do it behind each other's backs, not right to their faces.

"You know who told her that?" I asked, feeling my temper start to rise.

Nash shook his head. "I don't know them. Just some customers."

Hmm. I'd have to figure that out on my own later.

"Do you think we should get a paternity test?" Nash asked hesitantly, his eyes flickering with uncertainty.

I shook my head firmly. "No."

"You believe Mom?"

I turned to lean against the counter and faced Nash fully. "I know this is really hard right now, Nash. It's confusing. I get that. I know your mom lied about me being your dad, and it's not something I'm ever going to be okay with. But you've got to look at the bigger picture. You can't just stop at ‘she lied,' end of story. She thought it was the best thing for me. For both of us."

"But it wasn't," Nash insisted, his voice gaining strength.

I nodded slowly. "You're right. It wasn't. She made a mistake, a big one. But do you think we need to punish her for the next fourteen years to get even?"

Nash looked down, thinking it over. After a moment, he shrugged. "I don't think we need a paternity test. I overheard some gossip the other day, and nobody seemed all that surprised that I'm yours. They kept saying how much you and Mom were in love in high school."

I smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. "Yeah, we really were in love."

"And then she broke up with you," he added, his voice soft.

I sighed heavily. "Yeah, she did. But Nash, we can't keep getting mad at her for that. It's been a long time. She's apologized more than once. She's explained why she did what she did, and I know she wishes she could take it all back."

"But she can't."

"No, she can't," I agreed. "But you and I can forgive her."

Nash frowned, still struggling with the idea. "But I'm still mad," he admitted.

I nodded, understanding all too well. "I get that. But let me ask you something: is being mad doing anything for you? Besides making you cranky and making your mom sad?"

He quirked his lips, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner. "I mean, not really. It's just easier to be mad at her."

"I get that too. But maybe forgiving her won't be as hard as you think. Just imagine—if we forgive her, you can go back to talking to her like you used to. You can look at her without that anger weighing you down."

Nash thought about it, his face thoughtful. "I've had a good life," he finally said. "I mean, it's not like we were living in a cardboard box eating cold SpaghettiOs's out of a can." He tilted his head to the side. "It would've been better if you'd been around, but you're here now."

I nodded, feeling a small flicker of hope. "Yeah, I'm here now. And this is where I'm going to stay."

"Except when you're off announcing for the Wild Bronc series," Nash added with a smirk.

I chuckled. "Yup. But that doesn't start until July, and hopefully, you and your mom can come with me when I'm on the road. At least during the summer." I had decided last week to take the job. I had been worried when I told Nash about it that he would be upset I would be gone some, but he was excited about it. At least he was when I told him that he could come with me as long as he didn't have school, and his mom was okay with it.

I had planned on her coming with us, too.

"Promise?" Nash asked, his eyes full of hope.

"Promise." I pushed off the counter and clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "You ready to head home?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty tired. Who knew breaking your arm would make you so tired all the time?"

I grinned and wrapped an arm around his shoulder as we headed toward the front door. "Must be all that healing your body's doing."

We walked outside, the evening air cool against my skin. The truck was parked in the driveway, and Nash climbed in beside me. We drove in a comfortable silence, the engine humming as the road stretched ahead of us.

As we pulled up in front of his house, Nash turned to me. "You coming in?"

I shook my head. "Not tonight, kiddo."

"I thought you said we needed to forgive Mom?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I smiled softly. "We do, and I am. But right now, you're the one who needs to talk to her. She needs you."

Nash nodded, seeming to understand. "Okay." He opened the door, pausing for a second. "You want to come to my pie auction next week? It's Tuesday. Mom said she's gonna make some pies. I should probably remind her, though, in case she forgot."

I chuckled. "Good idea. And yeah, I'll be there."

"Cool. Night, Boone." Nash hopped out of the truck, running toward the front door. I watched until the door closed behind him before pulling out of the driveway, feeling lighter than I had in days.

The drive back to my place was peaceful, and for the first time in a while, I felt a little bit of hope blooming inside me. Things hadn't been easy, but there was a sense that maybe we could figure this out.

I wasn't sure how it was all going to play out, but I knew one thing for sure—I wasn't going to let fear or anger dictate my choices anymore.

Nash, Dolly, and I—we deserved better than that.

Dolly

The sound of a truck pulling into the driveway woke me up. I must have drifted off. After my bath, I'd barely managed to pull on some pajamas before collapsing into bed. It was one of those days where sleep felt like the only way to escape. I heard the front door open and close quickly, but I didn't move. I was glad Nash was home, but I didn't have the energy to deal with his cold shoulder.

"Mom?"

His voice came through the hallway, and I lifted my head off the pillow. "In the bedroom," I called, trying to sound more awake than I felt.

The door creaked open, and Nash stood in the doorway. "Are you sleeping already?"

That was the most words he'd said to me in one go since finding out about Boone. "Uh, yeah," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.

"You tired or sick?" he asked as he stepped inside the room.

I blinked at him, taken aback by the concern in his voice. Was this my Nash? My sweet boy? Not the distant, angry version of him I'd been dealing with these past few days?

"Just worn out, I guess. How was your night with Boone?" I asked, hoping to keep this conversation going.

"Good. He made chicken, potatoes, and veggies. He made enough for you, but you didn't come," he said casually.

That was unexpected. I hadn't even realized I'd be invited to dinner. "Oh, well, guess Boone has got lunch for tomorrow, then."

"Yeah," he agreed, a small smile tugging at his lips.

I wanted to ask a million questions, but I forced myself to slow down. This was the first real conversation we'd had in days, and I didn't want to scare him off. "How's your arm? Want some Tylenol before bed?"

He shook his head. "It's a little sore, but I think I'll be fine tonight."

I nodded, relieved we were still talking. "Okay."

For a moment, silence stretched between us, but it wasn't the heavy, painful kind that had been hanging around since Boone came back.

"I'm not mad at you anymore," Nash said suddenly.

His words hit me like a warm breeze, filling me with relief and hope. "Yeah?" I asked softly, trying not to let the emotion in my voice betray how much I needed to hear that.

Nash nodded. "I talked to Boone about it. He made me realize being mad at you isn't changing anything. I've got Boone now, and he's not going anywhere. That's what matters to me."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with emotion. "That's great, sweetheart. I know Boone's going to be a great dad for you."

I'd never doubted that. Boone had always been good at heart, even if he'd left, but that was because I pushed him away. But now, hearing Nash say it—that he was ready to move forward—was everything I hadn't dared hope for.

Nash let out a long yawn and rubbed his eyes. "Well, I'm gonna head to bed. Oh, don't forget about the pie auction next week," he added as if he wasn't dropping a bombshell of emotional growth right before heading off to sleep.

I chuckled. "Don't worry. I've already got my game plan for that."

"Good." He turned to go, then paused. "Night, Mom."

"Night, Nash," I whispered. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he replied casually like he hadn't withheld those words for days.

My heart swelled with gratitude. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed hearing him say that. It had only been a few days, but it felt like an eternity.

As I lay back on the pillow, relief washed over me. Nash was done being mad. He'd grown up a lot in these past few days, realizing that anger wouldn't change the past. It was a big step, a mature one, and I was so proud of him for seeing that forgiveness was better than holding onto his hurt.

Nash was growing up faster than I could keep up with.

I thought about Boone then. He had been the push Nash needed to understand that forgiveness was a lot more freeing than anger. Boone had come back into our lives and shifted everything, but in most ways, he was making it better.

I wondered if Boone felt the same way about me. Could he forgive me, too?