Here’s the Thing (Seddledowne #4)

Chapter 26 – Tally

twenty-six

TALLY

A very little key will open a very heavy door.

— MARK TWAIN

I ’d carefully thought it all through. Entering the code at the entrance of Ford’s ranch was simply a precaution to get you through the gate. It didn’t alert Jeff or Ford. It was mostly to keep out crazy fans or nosy neighbors.

I’d rented an electric vehicle so no one would hear me coming up the driveway. I didn’t even know if Ashton would be here. He might’ve moved back to Sweet Grass. But I was banking on him being at the little house. It’s where I’d be if he’d left.

When I got closer to the turn off, I cut my lights, grateful the moon was almost full. One more dip and then I rose over the last hill. My stomach whooshed as I dropped down into the valley. And there it was. The home I ached for every day.

My stomach tightened—a mixture of elation and fear—at seeing Ashton’s truck in the driveway. He was here!

I put the rental in park. It was well after one a.m. Not the time for visits or happy reunions. I reached up with a shaky hand, opened the visor, and checked my reflection. The shoulder length hair and blonde highlights were going to be a shock to Ash, but Special Agent Moore thought a change in appearance was necessary with Trevor on the loose. And the twelve inches of hair I’d chopped off was the least of my worries.

I got out of the car and padded to the porch, praying the locks hadn’t been changed. As luck would have it, when I got dressed the morning after the wedding, I just happened to put on the shorts that had my house key in the pocket. Or maybe it wasn’t luck. Maybe it was providence. Looked like I was about to find out.

When I turned the key and the door popped open, I sagged with relief. Providence. I took it as a sign that I was doing the right thing. I quickly stepped inside, locked the deadbolt, and jogged on tiptoe to the security control panel on the wall. I had sixty seconds and three attempts to type in the code before the sheriff’s office was alerted.

The red light pulsed, warning me that the clock was ticking. I typed in 0508—the date the kids and I had moved in—and hit enter. The red light kept blinking. I tried again. Nothing happened.

My hands pressed against my cheeks and I stared at the illuminated keypad. Obviously, Ash had changed it. My mind raced, thinking through the possibilities. My birthday. Theo’s birthday. Charlie’s. Ash’s. What if it wasn’t a birthday at all? What if it was the serial number on one of those Star Trek ships? I was running out of time. But calling Ashton’s name in the dead of night was not how I wanted to greet my husband after disappearing for five months.

I was about to type in his birthday when I heard a low gasp behind me. Then footsteps coming closer and a whiff of Montblanc Explorer just before an arm came around me and punched in the numbers, 0725—our wedding date. Then the enter key.

“Tally?” He sounded desperate and shocked like a man completely broken. That one word gutted me. His forehead dropped to my shoulder. I waited, praying he’d pull me into a hug. Or wind his arm around my hip. But he didn’t.

I froze, afraid if I breathed wrong it would spook him. But I couldn’t stop myself, his pull was magnetic. I relaxed into his chest. Wrong move. In a flash, his head lifted and I heard him step away.

“Ash.” I turned and stepped toward him. But like a twisted dance of foxtrot, he took another step back. I froze again.

The room was dark, but a sliver of moonlight was flowing through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Enough for me to see that he was thinner and his beard had grown out. It looked like he hadn’t trimmed it since I left. And his hair was long. Almost touching his shoulders. But his eyes were the same. I focused on those.

My hands fisted at my side. “How are you?” As soon as the words were out, I regretted it. What kind of stupid question was that? How would I be if he’d disappeared on me? So I corrected with, “I missed you.”

He let those words hang between us for a few tense seconds.

“Did you?” His voice shook. Whether from anger or overwhelm, I couldn’t tell. “What are you doing here, Tally?” His words were full of pain. “Oh, sorry,” he said bitterly. “I forgot. You have a different name now.”

He knew about Witness Protection? “How?” was all I could push out.

“Christy knew all along. She was the principal when you moved to Seddledowne, remember?”

Christy knew and she never said anything? I fell back, blasted by this piece of information. His flaring nostrils said he was upset that I hadn’t told him. Could I blame him?

I pressed a hand to my stomach and fought back the tears.

I’d dreamed of this moment for months, telling myself that’s all it could be…a dream. I’d told myself, if this were real, that Ashton would be overjoyed to see me. That five months apart meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. But the man standing in front of me wasn’t the confident, happy man I’d left behind. He was unsure and maybe a little angry. Probably a lot, if I were being honest. And it was no one’s fault but my own.

But I was unsure too.

It had cost me a lot to come here. Emotionally. I’d had to lie to my family and Special Agent Moore. Again.

I stared at him, rethinking my entire plan. Hop a flight from Charleston to Richmond. Drive an hour from the airport to Seddledowne. Gently break the news about Witness Protection. He’d be so elated I hadn’t left for no reason that he’d gladly agree to come home with me. Well, not home. This was home. Make it to Phoenix by tonight. Call Special Agent Moore and tell him what I’d done. Then, he could extract Mom, Briana, and the kids and move us again.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Ashton said, his tone giving away his worry.

“I know.” I wanted to touch him. To kiss him and not let go. But the look on his face told me he wasn’t ready for that. He didn’t trust that I wouldn’t leave him again.

I needed to fix this but there were no words in the entire English language that could repair the hurt in his eyes, the stiffness in his shoulders, the way it looked like it was painful to breathe. Any apology I offered at that moment would make a cruel mockery of the anguish I'd put him through.

I swallowed and tucked my bangs behind my ears. “Your beard needs trimming. ”

“Yeah,” was all he said.

I needed to touch him. To be near him. My fingers twitched, aching to feel his warm skin. “Can I trim it for you?”

“Now? At one in the morning?”

“Yes.” My fingers actually crossed, hoping. “Is that okay?”

I saw his jaw pulse in the pale light. “Fine.”

I wrapped my hand around his wrist and pulled him behind me. That small touch was electrifying, like all my hormones had been dormant since the day that I left and they’d just come out of hibernation all at once. Until he yanked free, making my eyes burn. What had I expected? His footsteps indicated that he was following though.

When we got to the master bathroom, I flipped on the light and knelt down under the counter, breathing through the rejection. The clippers were right where Ashton had put them when he moved the majority of his things in. I stood to find him watching me, arms still folded, face guarded.

Here, in the bright light, I could see what my absence had done to him. He was down at least twenty pounds. And the amount of crows feet around his eyes had doubled.

The bathroom was a mess, leftover toothpaste and hairs were scattered in the sink, beard and hair product splayed on the granite. A layer of dust coated the edges of the counter.

I grabbed a rag from the drawer and wiped off a spot on the granite, all while he just stood stiffly, watching me. Every few seconds I had to glance out of the corner of my eye. I know I’d done the disappearing, but it felt like if I looked away for too long, he might vanish.

Once there was a spot for him to sit, I grabbed him by the elbows and guided him to the counter. He pushed up onto the granite and peeled off his T-shirt, tossing it on the floor. I didn’t even try to stop my gaze from roving over his muscles. It took everything in me not to reach out and run my hands over them.

“I don’t want to get hair on my shirt,” he said, his tone indifferent. He was testing my willpower. Maybe punishing me a bit. He knew exactly what his naked chest did to me. I’d told him all about it on our honeymoon night while we made love. Being with him had cracked me open and all the things I never thought I’d say had spilled out. Now he was using my words against me.

I plugged the clippers in, shoved his knees apart, stepped between them, and got to work. His eyes stayed trained on my face, never straying, as if he was trying to break me with the mere force of his gaze. Or maybe he was worried I might disappear too. The body heat from his thighs warmed my hips and it took all my self-discipline to focus on the trim.

“You’re still wearing your ring,” he said after a minute.

“Of course.” I dropped a handful of hair into the wastebasket. “Isn’t that what married people do?” Heat crept up my neck. Married people stay. They don’t take off the morning after.

“Married people.” His expression was hard. He scooted away an inch so that his legs were no longer touching me. I felt the small adjustment keenly.

I dared to glance down at his left hand, something I hadn’t let myself do yet. He’d taken off his ring. That realization, dark and tar-like, slithered around my heart and tightened, making it hard to breathe. Tears seared my eyelids.

“Why are you crying?” he asked. But I could hardly hear it over the constant thrumming of blood in my ears.

I buzzed off another chunk and dropped it into the trash, tears splashing down my cheeks. “You’re not wearing your ring.”

For a moment, his expression was indecipherable.

“What did you expect? You marry me, make love to me, and then disappear for five months.” He stood up, forcing me backward. Then he took the clippers out of my trembling hands, turned them off, and set them on the counter.

“But I’m not done,” I said through a sob.

“Tally, why are you here? You’re risking your life, for what? To trim my beard ?” His jaw jutted. “Or maybe you came at night, hoping to slip inside and get whatever it was that you forgot, and slip out again without me ever knowing.”

I knew that’s how it looked, but it was so far from the truth. Did he have any idea what it had taken for me to come here? I leaned against the glass wall of the shower, my hands covering my eyes.

It took at least ten seconds to push the words through my vocal cords. “I’m sorry for how I left, okay? I’m sorry for lying to you. I was going to tell you everything. That morning. As soon as you woke up.”

His fist slammed against the counter. “Why didn’t you take me with you?” His pain echoed off the walls and there were tears in his eyes. “Why did you make that choice for me?”

I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t see his hurt. So I looked at the floor. “It’s against the rules. You’re not supposed to tell anyone about your former life. Not even your spouse. In case things turn sour.”

“Things weren’t going to turn sour!” His voice cracked. “You know that!”

I did. There was no doubt in my mind, he was right. If our plans hadn’t derailed we would’ve had one of those love stories where we were together and happy until the very end. One day, we’d be sitting on the front porch in our rocking chairs, white haired, wearing dentures. I’d be reading to him because his eyes had gone bad and I’d look over and he would be gone. Or vice versa.

My hand pressed against my chest, trying to slow my heart. “You have to understand, I had thirty seconds to make that decision. There you were, sleeping so peacefully, and I couldn’t do that to you.” I stifled a sob. “It’s a life sentence. You’d have to give up teaching. Forget ever getting a book deal. Change your name. Move anytime they told you to. There’d be no such thing as putting down roots. You’d have to say goodbye to your family. Forever. It’s an all-in commitment. No communication. No letters. Nothing. I couldn’t do that to you. To them.”There’d been no doubt in my mind that he would’ve come. But five or ten years from now he might’ve resented me. It wasn’t a thirty-second decision like choosing which cereal to eat for breakfast, or what shirt to wear that day.

His fists clenched and his knuckles turned white. “We should probably get this marriage annulled.” He shrugged like my words hadn’t fazed him at all, but the betrayal was all over his face. “Obviously, you don’t understand what any of our vows meant. Marriage is a commitment between two people. You make decisions together. Mutually. Just like that decision should’ve been made.”

My fingers balled against my side, my mostly torn heart severing the rest of the way. I’d hurt him so much. I’d hurt myself. “I haven’t broken my vows. Not for a second. And I’m sorry that I hurt you. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. I was doing what they told me to do.”

His hand rubbed over his beard that was only three quarters trimmed. “So if you made the right choice then, why are you here now?”

I hugged myself, my knees shaking. “Because I miss you. Desperately. I cry myself to sleep every night. Every day without you is the worst kind of torture. I should’ve let you decide for yourself. But it felt selfish to ask that of you.” I took a beat, willing my lungs to slow down. “I guess I’m selfish though, because I came to ask you to come back with me. I tried not to end up here. I stopped myself twice already. Got all the way to Richmond, turned around, and hopped back on a plane to Charleston. But it’s like that one Charlotte Bront? quote, ‘As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you.’ I can’t stay away from you anymore.”

His expression was stone, completely unreadable. May as well lay it all out there.

“And, I came for another reason…” I bit my lip. “Here’s the thing?—”

“Don’t you here’s the thing me,” he demanded. “Every time those words come out of your mouth, you flip my world upside down!”

“Ash,” I said quietly, fighting my tears. Then I bravely tethered my gaze to his. “You’re going to be a dad.”

His eyes flashed to my stomach, though I doubted he could tell. I’d worn a baggy shirt in case this didn’t go well. As if leaving without telling him was actually an option. It wasn’t. It never had been. I couldn’t keep something like that from him.

His gaze burned into me, and then in two large strides his arms were around my waist, his lips on mine. My back smashed against the glass, like our wedding night and the sliding door of the beach house.

“I missed you every second of every day,” he confessed in a broken whisper. “I would’ve gone with you. I will go with you.” He pressed kisses across my nose, over each eyelid, back to my mouth. Then he reached down and tore my shirt up and over my head. He tossed it on top of his. I wished I was wearing something other than this ugly black sports bra. After what I’d put him through, Ashton deserved the prettiest lingerie.

He dropped to his knees, sliding the top of my leggings down to press kisses over my belly. My fingers tangled in his shaggy hair, the relief trying to lift me off the ground like a bouquet of helium balloons.

The baby kicked him right in the nose and I laughed through my tears. “I think she just said, ‘Hi, dad.’”

He looked up at me. The adoration I remembered was back. “It’s a girl?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, gutted that he’d missed the gender reveal ultrasound. Finding out without him was the final push I’d needed to come here.

“Hey, baby girl,” he whispered, awed.

His palm flattened over her little foot. She kicked again, giving him a high five. He followed her appendage across my skin, his expression full of wonder, for at least two minutes before standing up.

Then he pulled me against his chest. “Promise you’ll never leave me again.” His tone was insistent.

“I promise . I couldn’t leave you again if I tried.”

Suddenly, I was off my feet, lifted into his arms.

He carried me out of the room, and with hungry eyes, lowered me to the bed.