Page 4 of Be Courageous

She drew a shaky breath, the sound of which notched his concern higher.

“Eye-opening.” Her hold on his hand tightened. “The counselor made me realize that I’m moving on from Jerry’s death too quickly. It’s making Grayson angry that I seem to have forgotten about his father, that I seem to have replaced him with you.”

Fitz nodded. This wasn’t news to him.

“He might even think that Mary Mae is your baby because of her coloring.”

Given Faith’s watchful gaze, she thought this news was going to freak him out. Fitz had seen that thought cross Grayson’s face at the hospital when he’d first brought out the baby for her siblings to see for the first time. “Yes, I know.”

“You do?” Faith shook her head, clearly appalled. “How can I be so blind? All I saw was his anger. I didn’t realize it had anything to do with me.”

Fitz went to reassure her that she wasn’t the cause for Grayson’s belligerence, but she cut him off, squeezing his hand harder. “I don’t know how to say this, and it’s not what I want, but I have to…I have to let you go for a while.”

The words caught him utterly off guard. Three months earlier, nothing in the world could have compelled him to get involved with a woman who had three children close to the same age as the children he had buried, along with their mother, nearly eight years earlier. He had carried around a shattered heart ever since, never believing that he might fall in love again. And then, just when he’d found the courage to risk everything, she was setting him aside?

“How long is a while?” His gruff voice, caused by the injury to his vocal cords, failed to mask his incredulity.

“I don’t know.” She covered her crumpling face with her free hand.

Torn between protecting his feelings and comforting her, Fitz pulled his hand from her grasp and put an arm around her. She turned immediately toward him, making it harder to put up a wall and guard his emotions, especially when she pressed her face against his chest and her shoulders shook with a stifled sob.

Over the lump in his throat, Fitz sought to reassure them both. “It’s okay.” Yet picturing the flat, lonely evenings ahead of him, he knew it wasn’t going to be okay. He would have to do exactly what he did after burying his family: lose himself in his work and cut off his emotions. Whether he could return to the world of the living after this rejection wasn’t something he could promise.

He forced himself to think about Faith. “Who’s going to help you if not me?” He’d been joining her every evening in grooming the horses and refreshing their water and feed.

She sniffed sharply and lifted her head to look at him. “I’ll give the babysitter more hours and hire someone to help me with the horses.”

“I guess I’m pretty expendable, huh?” He let himself wallow in self-pity, but only for a moment.

“No.” She shook her head fiercely, even as her eyes filled with tears. “Not to me. Please don’t leave forever, Fitz.” She swallowed hard. “This isn’t what I want,” she repeated, “but I have to put my children first. Please say you understand.”

Pushing aside the selfish feelings that welled in him, he searched himself for the words to give her. His conscience used to speak to him in the voice of his late wife, Mary, often supplying scripture to back up her opinion, but since Faith had become a constant part of his life, Mary ceased to speak to him. All he could come up with was, “Love is patient.”

Even so, the relief that relaxed Faith’s expression and even teased a wan smile out of her told Fitz those were the right words to say. No doubt Faith interpreted them to mean that he would be patient and wait for her. But given the rising impulse to jump in his car and flee, that really wasn’t the promise he was making. He’d put his shattered heart into her hands, and now she was giving it back to him. How was he supposed to feel?

“I should go.” The memory of the Buick crossed his thoughts, but he didn’t bring it up now. Someone had taken a wrong turn, that was all. Faith had enough on her plate. “Good night.”

He pressed a kiss to her lips, savoring their satiny texture in order to remember it forever. Then he tore himself away, standing and patting his pockets to verify he had his keys and wallet. Without another word, he strode away, off the porch toward his Lexus.

Some mechanism of self-preservation kicked in, blanketing his emotions in an icy layer that kept him from feeling anything.

He shut himself inside his car, starting up the music on his smartphone as soon as he hit the ignition button. With the operaLa bohèmefloating out of his speakers, he backed up and pulled away. He didn’t so much as glance in his rearview mirror, but his peripheral vision—honed from his years as a street cop—left him with a clear impression of Faith standing on her porch, watching him leave.

* * *

Faith looked up at the sound of someone walking toward her office, located at the back of the big new barn and overlooking the riding ring. Her office doubled as a waiting room with several mismatched chairs for caretakers to sit upon while watching Faith work with her patients outside. The ring was already cloaked in darkness, no thanks to daylight savings time, making it dark by 5:00 P.M. Her children were in the house with the babysitter, so who could this be?

Just before the door swung open, Faith knew it was Grace. Being mirror twins, they shared an inexplicable psychic connection.

Grace stepped into the cozy space and grimaced at the sight of Faith sitting behind her laptop. She’d been typing a code into the form that would prompt a payment by one of her patient’s health insurance companies.

“You’re still working?” Grace’s tone betrayed both incredulity and concern.

“This is the last form.” Faith pinned her attention on her screen, verified the code was accurate, and clicked ENTER. “There, all done for the night.” After exiting the program, she shut her MacBook Pro and pushed her chair back.

Grace had notched her hands above her hips. “You haven’t returned any of my texts this week.”

“I know. Sorry, I’ve been really busy.” Faith came out from behind her desk, light-headed with hunger. Fitz would have had dinner waiting for her, but the babysitter only fed the kids—food that wasn’t particularly good for them.

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