Page 28 of If The Fates Allow
Holding her at the waist, he bit down a grin as she settled on solid ground. “Are you sure you’ve ridden a horse?”
“Of course I have. I’ve just never ridden astride.” Willa held her head high, and Hope had the decency to snort on her behalf. “See, Hope believes me.”
“Women always stick together.” He smiled, devastating her as he seemed born to do. “It’s the law of the universe.”
As with any time after a storm, the waves roared, and gusts of wind sped about in every direction. Willa’s unbound hair smacked across her face, and she tried not to choke as the strands gagged her.
“What did you wish to talk to me about?”
The question caused the mischievous glint in Noah’s eyes to shift, dulling them to an alarming degree.
“Your sister.”
A coward at her core, Willa couldn’t meet his gaze. “What did they tell you about Grace?” she asked, staring at the water. “Whatever it is, I can explain.”
“Er, no.” Placing two fingers under her chin, Noah forced her to look at him. “I mean, yes, my aunt did tell me about Grace, but you’ll never have to explain her reasons. I can understand completely why she did what she did.”
Willa’s brows snapped together. There was no telling what wild story his aunt had spouted off or what other rumor was being perpetrated by her own family. “What exactly do you think Grace did?”
“She fell in love.”
He stepped forward, leaving an inappropriate amount of space between them—one, maybe two inches. If either were to take a large inhale, their chests would touch, and that thought alone overrode her concerns of him knowing about Grace.
“Falling in love with someone who your parents don’t approve of isn’t a crime, Willa.”
It was if you were a Fairweather.
“He was a mill worker,” she said, her voice nearly drowning in the sea of noise surrounding them. “His name was Tommy, and he had a dog—a big Dane almost as tall as Grace. She loved dogs, you see, and when she happened upon Tommy and his dog walking through the forest on their way to work his shift at the mill, she couldn’t help but stop him to meet the animal.”
It hurt. It had been two years, and it still hurt. To lose Grace… She would carry that pain forever.
“When Tommy saw her, he was a goner, and to be fair, no man who ever laid eyes on our Grace managed to walk away without being a little in love. She was special. I would say beautiful, but the word is so inadequate.” Willa’s lips twisted into a wry grin. “She looked very much like my mother.”
Noah made a face of disgust before catching himself. “Apologies, but your mother is not what I envision when you say the word beautiful.”
Willa openly cackled. It did seem a bit preposterous. “My mother was quite the beauty before my father made her into what she is today.”
“Well, she does frown more than most, and I guess all that frowning has caused her to…” He trailed off, pressing his lips together. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. The only reason I know Grace resembled what our mother once looked like is because of the honeymoon portrait hanging in the upstairs hallway. My father commissioned it after their wedding.”
It was always hard for visitors to tell whether the painting was of Margaret or Grace, which is why the portrait was moved upstairs. With golden hair and bewitching hazel eyes, their mother had once been a great prize to be won. But where her smile sat tightly on her lips, guarded and reserved, Grace’s smile was never such a way. Warm with an absolute wholesomeness shining through, Grace’s entire soul could be seen in her smile.
“But where my mother is short, Grace is tall like me,” Willa continued. “It’s one of the few physical traits we shared. Well, that and our freckles. She and I have the same matching pattern on our wrists.”
Noah’s warm hand came around to rest on her lower back, and she went rigid before realizing he was turning her to walk along the shore with him. Hope trailed behind, apparently not needing to be told to follow.
“You and Grace don’t look alike? But you said she was beautiful.”
The cool air circled them as they walked, but she didn’t mind. While Noah hadn’t given her time to fix her hair, he had made sure she was bundled properly in a coat. The dampness she expected was a mere afterthought, even with winter’s fingers digging their way in for the season.
“No, we’re not alike at all. Grace was perfect in every way.” Her sister’s face filled her mind, making Willa’s head hurt. “Well, not completely perfect. She had a scar under her right eye that I unfortunately gave her. On one of those rare, good days I had as a child, Bonnie took us outside to fly kites. I didn’t know what to do and was so excited that I mistakenly allowed my string to become wrapped around Grace’s head as we played. It eventually got so tight the string sliced her cheek, leaving a scar. My mother said I was lucky I hadn’t taken out her eye, and I was inconsolable for weeks in my guilt.”
“Was Grace upset?”
“Grace never got upset about anything and would say the scar served as a reminder of when her little sister was able to come outside and play.”
Noah’s hand dropped from her lower back, and Willa didn’t want its loss to bother her so, but it did. She nearly stopped and demanded he return it.
