Page 96 of Redemption

“To what do I owe the…pleasure?” I tucked my hands into the pockets of my navy sweatpants and leaned against the fireplace.

“I’ve been hard on you,” she stated.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

She laughed and it made me laugh too which felt good, a welcome release.

“I’ve found it hard having you here, even harder to see you and Kat developing…something. I can only imagine how hard it must have been for her to put aside our issues and start seeing you, and I wasn’t very supportive of that.”

My throat closed at the mention of her name.

“I inadvertently fucked everything up for you two and I can’t really fix it. But I can help with the ranch. I have an idea to make this a guest ranch and I would like you to help me make a 3D model of the plans so I can present it to Kat.”

Whatever I’d been expecting when she came in, it wasn’t any of this. I got the feeling she didn’t want to have some gushy conversation or share feelings. It seemed like her acknowledgement of her feelings was also essentially the closest to an apology I was going to get. But I didn’t need one. I was just glad she was comfortable enough to be in my presence and that she sought my help, to do something for Kat. TosupportKat.

Also, the idea of having something to create with my hands was exciting. I’d had no inspiration with my woodwork recently and hadn’t touched any of my tools, too busy moping around. The thought of creating something that would help the ranch was invigorating.

I pushed off from the fireplace and grabbed my toolbox. “Then let’s get to work.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Katarina

I’d fucked up.

I knew I had. It only took me a couple of hours after Jack left me in the pasture to know I’d fucked up completely, but I had no clue how to fix it. I’d let my hurt from my sisters and my own inadequacies consume me.

When I’d locked eyes with him that same night on the porch, the hurt that shone in the blue depths had devastated me. I’d run from it, too scared to face it. My sisters had tried to talk to me and apologize but I hadn’t let them. It wasn’t about them. I was upset with myself.

The weeks had gone by, and I’d had to work side by side with him, seeing the hurt expression on his face whenever I dared to look at him. But he nolonger looked at me, he avoided me.

And yet I knew that I could ask him to do anything, and he still would, and that made my heart ache even more.

I wanted to ask him to forgive me. I wanted to ask him to hug me and kiss me and call me sweetheart again. Because now that I’d heard him call me that, I wanted to hear it for the rest of my life.

But I wouldn’t. I wanted him to choose it, not give it to me because I demanded it. He’d had so many choices and decisions taken from him in the last twelve years and I wouldn’t take any more.

I’d misjudged him completely. He’d done nothing but help and support me, and at the first inkling that something was amiss, I’d leapt to conclusions and flung hurtful accusations instead of trusting that he would never do that to me. I knew it deep down, but I’d let my pain cloud my judgment and I didn’t know how to fix it.

I missed him so much. Missed his arms around me, his soft hair under my fingertips. His words of encouragement and his belief in me. His strong muscles as he worked beside me, his rough hands calloused from hard work. His care for the animals, and for my sisters too. I’d seen how he’d developed a relationship with each of them. The other day, I even saw him and Tilly go off for a ride together and I wasjealous. Jealous that my little sister had a good man to bond with and look up to when I should only be grateful.

Some nights I sat on the porch, just desperate for a glimpse of him passing by. I couldn’t bring myself to sit in my father’s office and watch him. Too many memories tried to claim me. I just needed to figure out a way to get to him.

I was sitting there now, in a newly refurbishedAdirondack chair that I knew was down to him and his big, loving heart, waiting for him to come home from the bar. My eyes caught the pair of headlights coming down the gravel road towards the house. I assumed it was Leo arriving so didn’t pay too much attention until I realized it was a little pink classic Volkswagen Beetle.

My heart leapt into my throat, I was out of the chair before the car door opened. A head popped out. Wild black curls appeared. The same ones I’d spent my teenage years braiding and playing with. Then her curves came into view, and I couldn’t believe it. She was here. She was home.

I was on the porch steps running to her by the time she was closing the car door and then we faced each other. My wide eyes latched onto the bruise surrounding one of her piercing blue eyes. Traveling down to her plump lip, swollen and split.

“Gertie…” I shook my head, my throat clogging with tears. My best friend’s lovely face was marred by a battered appearance. She seemed to shrink under my stare, a far cry from the vibrant life and soul of Reverence she’d been as a teenager.

She stared at me a little longer and that plump, swollen lip wobbled. I sobbed as I grabbed her and crushed her to me.

“I’ll kill him,” I hissed. “I’ll cut his fucking dick off and force-feed it to him.”

Gertie sob-laughed, I eventually pulled back and looked her over. My vibrant, beautiful best friend was hardly recognizable. But I’d never been happier to see her. I gently touched the spot next to her black eye. “Tell me he’s rotting in jail?”

Gertie shrugged. “Not exactly, he’s got friends in high places. But I’mfree and here.”

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