Page 118 of The Promise
Loralee felt the tears threatening again. "Thank you," she whispered, kissing Cara's cheek.
Cara pulled back, her cheeks wet with tears. "That's what family is for."
Loralee looked at Michael. "Thanks for all of this. The clothes, the luggage, all of it."
"I think Zach more than earned it, Loralee." He gave her a quick hug and then stepped back, pulling Cara with him. "You know you have a home here any time you want it."
She nodded, afraid to try and say anything else. They meant so much to her. She'd never had real family before. Except Mary. Everything always came back to Mary.
She turned to face Patrick. His look was guarded, as if he had already put distance between them. She tried not to feel hurt. After all, they were just friends. It was best if they got on with their own lives and forgot about each other. She just hadn't expected it to happen so soon.
"It's time." He held out his arm and she placed a hand on his elbow. Just like a real lady. A respectable lady.
They stopped at the train steps and stood for a moment simply looking at each other. She tried to memorize each little detail of his face. The way his hair fell forward into his eyes. The way his mouth curled a little higher on one side than the other.
The whistle blew a warning, and Patrick lifted her up to the bottom step. This was it then. Time for goodbye. He kissed her once, hard, and then turned away, walking back to Cara and Michael. Back to where he belonged.
She sighed and stepped into the train. A new life awaited her in Virginia. A better life. Best to close doors and move on. She'd managed just fine without Patrick Macpherson. And she'd just have to keep right on doing it. Squaring her shoulders, she settled into the high-backed velvet seat.
But, Lordy, it was going to be hard.
Patrick stoodstone-faced watching a few last minute passengers scurry to board the train. This was it. She was really going. Up until this minute he'd kept the hope that she'd change her mind. He should have told her how he felt. Should have stood up for himself and his feelings.
"You okay?"
He looked down into the worried eyes of his sister-in-law. "Yes. No. Hell, I don't know. I guess I thought maybe she'd stay."
"She can't, Patrick."
"Why the hell not?" His eyes moved back to the train.
"Because here she'd never be anything but a whore. And she deserves a whole lot more than that."
"I know." He said the words with conviction. That was the one thing he was certain of. Loralee deserved the world. It was just that somewhere deep inside, he'd hoped he'd be the one to give it to her. But that was impossible. She belonged in Virginia and he belonged here—at Clune.
In a way, he envied Loralee. She was getting a clean slate—a chance to start over. The events of the past few days had changed him forever, forced him to face himself, to grow up. He stared at the train. It taunted him. Just a few short steps and he could find his own way, be whoever he wanted to be, but that would mean turning his back on his responsibilities, and he couldn't—wouldn't—do that.
"You've got to live your own life, Patrick." Michael's words were uncannily accurate, as if he'd read his mind. They stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the train.
"But my life is here, with you."
"Only if you want it to be, Patrick. You'll always belong here, but that doesn't mean you have to stay."
"But I…" he trailed off, still looking at the train. He wanted to go, needed to go, but he also needed his brother. Or did he? Maybe he was falling right back into the same old patterns, Michael taking the lead. He turned to look at his brother. Their eyes met and held—a lifetime of emotions reflected there.
"Go." There was finality in his brother's voice—and freedom.
The train began to inch forward.
"Hurry." Cara's soft plea roused him to action.
Patrick ran across the platform toward the moving cars and leapt for the steps, grabbing the handrail, swinging up onto the train. Balanced precariously on the top step, he turned for a last look. They stood together, waving, arms looped around each other. Michael and Cara. Patrick smiled. His brother would be all right. Owen was dead. The evil that had been a part of their lives for so long was gone. Vanquished.
It was a time for new beginnings.
He raised his hand in final farewell, and then turned to go into the railcar, one life behind him, and another about to start.
Cara stepped back,looking at the painting with a critical eye. Not bad. Maybe a little more gray in the mountains. She bit her bottom lip, looking from subject to easel, then back again. The ranch lay spread out below her. The bright summer sun outlining each building with streaks of white. Wildflowers ran rampant, up here on the bluff, and down in the meadow below. Monet would have had a field day.
