Page 53 of Seaside Cowboy's Second Chance

He glanced away. “They were crooked.”

“They were the best I’d ever seen. It... it meant a lot to me that you put so much effort into them.”

“I wanted to. And they were nothing compared to your work.”

“They were everything to me.”You were everything to me.She stopped the words before they slipped from her tongue.

They went through several more boxes, and some she put aside and marked for donation. Three boxes he took to the living room to throw away if Grandma agreed.

She tugged on the antique trunk, but it didn’t budge. “Huh. Must be locked.”

“Maybe your grandmother has some valuable jewelry there.”

“It’s not Grandma’s. It’s my aunt’s. Grandma said she just provided the storage for it.” The request was weird to start with. “Okay, I imagine only my aunt has the key.” Curiosity stirred in her, but she suppressed it. Other people’s secrets weren’t her business.

Then Dallas and Skylar reached one more box. Crumpled paper and crumpled yellowed newspapers padded mason jars with seashells and pebbles also wrapped in paper.

Skylar unwrapped and rewrapped every one of them after examining them. Then before she was about to rewrap the last one, she gasped.

What was used as wrapping paper was a watercolor, the image on the internal side. And it wasn’t Skylar’s watercolor, though she recognized herself immediately. She was about five years old and walking hand in hand with a woman on the beach. Skylar wore a pretty dress with a pink rose pattern and matching shoes. They both wore straw hats her mother had decorated with yellow jessamines collected from their garden. Grandma used to garden then. Must be one of those rare days when Mom had been fully present.

“Dad didn’t see this one,” Skylar whispered.

Dallas’s hand covered hers. “It’s a good thing he didn’t, right?”

Skylar wasn’t sure because it caused an avalanche of emotions. But then gratitude expanded her chest. She pointed at the girl. “That’s me there.”

His eyes narrowed. “It’s so gut-wrenching that she never showed up again. That she made no contact with the entire family. Never called you. Never answer your grandmother’s or her sister’s calls.”

“She couldn’t,” she said before she had a chance to stop herself.

His eyebrows rose. He didn’t ask her to elaborate, and she didn’t volunteer.

How would her life have turned out if she hadn’teverremembered what happened that stormy night? If she hadn’t done that painting of a woman in a red raincoat before she’d realized she shouldn’t have? Or if she’d chosen a different path after she’d received the threatening call?

She’d told herself she’d been protecting her grandmother and Dallas. Instead, she’d been protecting herself. She’d been a coward. She’d chosen the path of least resistance, and several people had paid for it. Dallas probably most of all, through no fault of his.

Her eyes widened as she tasted salt on her lips.

“Don’t cry.” He swiped her tear with his thumb. “Please don’t cry.”

“I didn’t realize I was crying.” Her smile was as wobbly as he’d claimed her first easel was.

“Your mother isn’t worth your tears.” His voice hardened.

“She is. She was. Everyone makes mistakes. She paid for hers.” Skylar felt like she was sliding on a slippery road. One leading down to alligators of guilt.

“You forgave her?”

“One day, I’ll tell you everything, I hope. But not today.” She sank onto one of the sturdier boxes with nothing breakable inside because her legs went weak.

“You don’t have to.”

“These are selfish tears. I’m crying for myself. For my mistakes. For us. For the things that could’ve been.” She searched his eyes. “Will you ever be able to forgive me?” Asking that question was also selfish, but she was on a roll.

“Don’t you know it? I already have.” He wiped her tears, the gesture so gentle the caress seemed to touch her heart.

“How can you do that so easily?” She’d been right before. His touch, even fleeting, even only meant to comfort, even amid emotional turmoil, caused her to come undone.

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