Page 24 of Almost True
At his heart, Jake was a sweetie. Always wanting to—wait.What? Stalker?Killed her!?
A strangled sound came right as I looked up at her. Her face had lost all color.
“Who told you about that?” she asked, still sounding calm despite the shift in her demeanor.
“It’s on the local news channels. Popped up on my phone, too. I’m seriously so glad you weren’t hurt.”
Maddie smiled, something graceful but somehow forced. “Thanks for saying that, Jake. I am, too.”
I couldn’t stand there and not say something. My embarrassment and frustration could take a hike for a minute. “What? What happened?”
Jake dove right in to explain. “You didn’t see the news? This stalker guy attacked her a few days ago. Held her and Sarah James at gunpoint. Wilder Saint took the guy down, and he’s being held without bail until they can take him to trial. From what I heard, he’s—”
My head was exploding, and everything came out in a rush. “This is insane. Are you okay? I’m so sorry. What can I—”
“Excuse me. I can’t stay to talk just now. I’ve got to get to a meeting.” Maddie gave a tight nod and turned on her heel, disappearing inside before Jake or I could say another word.
He turned his big eyes toward me. “I guess maybe she didn’t want me to recap it. Whoops.”
“It’ll be fine. Let’s get some work done.” The sentiment rang hollow, though. She didn’t seem fine. She seemed rattled to have Jake even talking about it, and she certainly didn’t want to discuss it with me.
I’d been so dismissive of her the last few days. I’d been a jerk, as though I had no other way to protect myself from the stupid leaping feeling in my chest every time someone mentioned her or I thought about her. I’d tried to put distance between us physically, emotionally, just like I felt the distance between us in terms of our net worths and social circles and the sting of that reality.
But this was her reality, too. Not just mansions and private jets and book deals and fame but pressure and danger. Incredible, terrible danger.
I’d put up a wall to keep myself safe from the small, impossible feeling being near her gave me, but look what I’d done.
Was that her fault? Was she to be blamed for my unmanageable feelings? No. And now that I knew she’d been through something awful, all I could think of was going to her and begging her to tell me she was truly okay. Well, that, and asking her to forgive me.
So I spent the day working as hard as I could physically stand. When the heat hit, we broke for lunch. She’d been coming out to offer us ice water all week, but today I didn’t see her again. I knew I wouldn’t, and yet the absence drove home what I needed to do.
By the end of the day, I was covered in dirt and sweat, having found some absolution in making as much progress for her as I could. Working the land had always given me solace. Maybe that was why I could never seem to stay on the business and design side of things for too long.
We’d leveled ground in one place, worked on mucking the little stream that ran through her yard and widened it for a small pond, and we’d transplanted a few shrubs to their final locations. Most of the larger-level surface work was done, and that meant we were technically on schedule even with the later start.
I said goodbye to the guys and wiped my face with a towel. I debated going home and showering, but there was a decent chance I’d shower and sit down with Luca and never get up again.
Not that I was unfamiliar with physical labor, but I didn’t normally do it for this long—not days in a row, at least. I liked getting into the dirt, though. It was good for me to forget the burden of my in-laws’ business and how stressful the year had been or how much work would need to be done to get their farm ready to sell. Knowing how getting that done would free up a lot of time and energy was about the only thing keeping me going.
With my gloves in the dirt and sweat on my brow, sometimes I could forget the obligation I felt to them. I could cast away the guilt for resenting that obligation, the frustration that seemed to grow larger by the day at the sensation that I was losing time to do what I really wanted. And this connection to the earth helped conjure up inspiration, which was so rare and lovely these days that I couldn’t help but savor the time, even if it did often qualify as “backbreaking work.”
Today, I’d thought of nothing but Maddie. Realistically, that’d been the case since we’d arrived on site, but I’d known working in her yard would do that, and her frequent visits had made sure of it. Until this morning, when her visits halted abruptly, and I felt like the biggest jerk on the planet for everything that’d happened.
So instead of going home and getting cleaned up, I tromped to the front door. My shirt had soaked through to my chest and back. My arms, neck, and legs were coated in a fine layer of dirt that would take some time to scrub off. I was essentially a little pig pen standing there in front of her welcome mat.
“Oh. Mr. Wallace. Um, let me see if she’s available.” Anthony’s eyes ran over me, clearly taking in the utter dishevelment. “Feel free to come in. We’ve got the AC cranking.”
“No. I’m a mess. I’ll wait out here. And please call me Aidan.”
He pursed his lips like he didn’t like the invitation but nodded to accept it. “Okay, Aidan. I’ll be right back.”
He shut the door gently and I waited, tempted to pull out my phone and busy myself, but knowing there was nothing on it I cared about. My son was safe with a friend. My cousin was still at work, and I’d see him at some point this weekend if not tonight. And the woman I’d been pining for all these long months was on the other side of this door.
Yeah. Nothing on the phone would distract me from that reality.
Another minute or two passed and with them came the creeping exhaustion that often hit by the end of the week these days. Though this time, it wasn’t all physical. I didn’t see how Maddie’s mere presence in Silverton could do damage to me, but it also felt like I’d gone ten rounds with an unnamed opponent.
The door swung open and she stepped out. My heart kicked at the sight of her. Inevitably, she looked amazing. She wore black heels and a black cocktail dress that fit her perfectly and accentuated her form while looking polished and sleek. Her hair was styled so one side was pulled back and showed an ear with a glinting diamond adorning it, and the other side hung long and shiny and soft-looking over her shoulder. I liked it darker like this—dark at the top and tapering to wavy lighter streaks. It’d been blond last time I saw her—the first time. She looked good no matter what.
