Second Chance at the Sugar Shack (23 page)

“I understand.” She scooted off the bed, taking the comforter with her. “But you don’t have to get so mad. It was just a suggestion.”

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist to keep her from escaping. “Why would you even ask me to go?”

“I think you know why.” She tugged her arm.

He tugged back. “Humor me.”

She looked at the ceiling, the door, anywhere but at him. “Because I might . . . have feelings for you.”

“You might? Or you do?”

“Is there a difference?”

“The fact that you even have to ask pretty much tells me everything I need to know.”

“It’s not like I’ll be gone forever.” Her palm slid down his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“Bad timing, huh?”

“I don’t suppose I could interest you in a long-distance relationship?” she said, obviously trying to lighten the mood. “Maybe a little phone sex? I could even fake a British accent.”

“Would
you
be happy with that?” he asked, knowing the truth even though he’d tried to erase it in the past few days.
I’m still not enough.

“No.” She turned away and slipped from his arms. “I hope you can try to understand how important this is to me.”

“Then it’s important for you to go.” Aching to touch her again he reached for her, then thought better and dropped his hand to his side.

She bit at her bottom lip. “Matt, I—”

“I wish you well, Kate. I really do. And I hope you find what you’re looking for.” But he had to be honest with himself and admit that what she was looking for
wasn’t
him.

Everything inside him urged him to go to her, take her in his arms and things would work out just fine. But that was a lie and he knew it. What he wanted and what she wanted were on such different ends of the spectrum they’d never be able to meet in the middle.

An ache deep in his chest made it hard to breathe as he watched her pick her clothes up off the floor and put them on. She slipped her arms through the sleeves of her coat and clutched it together near her heart.

She looked up at him. “I don’t want to say good-bye.”

A heavy sigh pushed from his lungs. “Easier now than later.”

She searched his face, then nodded as tears slipped from her eyes. Then she cupped his cheek in her hand and rose up onto her toes and kissed him. He kept his arms at his sides and curled his fingers into his palms to keep from grabbing her and begging her not to go.

The kiss ended way too soon and she stepped away. “Good-bye, Matt.”

She whispered his name on a sob and his heart shattered into a million pieces. He forced himself to stand there and watch the woman he loved walk out the door. When he heard her footsteps on his porch, he forced himself to walk out onto the balcony and watch her drive out of his life. He forced himself to feel the pain. And when all that was left were her tire tracks in the snow, he forced himself to go back inside—to face life a lot less hopeful than just a few hours ago.

The bottle of Jack in his kitchen cabinet called his name, promising a comfortable numb to take away the pain in his heart. The emptiness in his arms. A chill ran up his bare back and he opened his dresser to grab a T-shirt. From the back corner of the drawer a small white box peeked out from behind a layer of cotton shirts. He picked it up, flipped open the cover, and looked at the ring nestled in black velvet that had been hidden for a decade. He removed the ring and held it up to the light.

Easier to say good-bye now than later?

Who the fuck had he been kidding?

K
ate felt like she’d been kicked in the chest by a team of stubborn mules. She grabbed a tissue from the box between the seats of the Buick and blew her nose. Everything that had just happened was all her fault and she had no one, absolutely no one, to blame but herself. She’d fallen totally and completely in love with Matt. And yet she’d just watched every ounce of their newly formed trust fade from his eyes like the last rays of sunlight fading into night. His walls had come up and he’d shut down.

A sob burst from her throat. How had she let that happen? There had always been the very real possibility that she’d have to leave. She’d wanted the life she’d made for herself in Hollywood. She’d gone hungry for it. She’d busted her ass for it. And now it just all seemed so inconsequential.

“Honey, please slow down or you’ll spin out.”

With no warning, Letty Silverthorne took up her place as Kate’s backseat driver. Snow had fallen all day and the plows hadn’t yet reached the side streets. Deep drifts grabbed at the Buick’s tires making the car go a little squirrelly around the corners. Kate looked down at the speedometer.

“I’m crawling, Mother,” she said on a hiccup. “Fifteen miles an hour is hardly NASCAR speed.”

“Are you okay?”

Kate tightened her hands on the steering wheel and pushed a breath from her lungs if only to control the tears that had been a constant waterfall since she left Matt’s house.

“Come on. Tell Mommy dearest what’s wrong.”

Kate hit the brakes. The Buick slid at least twenty feet and almost took out Mrs. Gooding’s cat. Kate didn’t watch to see if the calico made it to the other side of the street. She whipped around in her seat and faced her mother.

“No. I am not okay. And I really don’t need your advice today.”

“I wouldn’t give it if I thought you didn’t need it.”

“I
don’t
need it. I’ve managed very well on my own for the past ten years. I can manage for another fifty.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

With a mental image of her stuffed into some retirement community playing Yahtzee with a bunch of other old maids in their flowered muumuus, Kate protested. “I’m fine with alone.” She was such a liar. She’d probably never be fine again as long as she lived.

“I don’t believe you.”

Kate frowned. She didn’t feel like going into a tit-for-tat shootout with her mother. She just wanted to go home, crawl in bed, and cry till she fell asleep. “Just goes to show how much you know me.”

“I do know you, sweetheart. I know you wouldn’t put so much of your heart and soul into a shop where teenage girls can afford beautiful ball gowns if you didn’t care.”

“I was bored.”

“I know you wouldn’t have given that bakery the facelift it so sorely needed if you didn’t care.”

“Maybe I just needed a design fix.”

“You wouldn’t have volunteered to donate a sheet cake to the bunko club every month and even offered to be a dealer at casino night at the Grange if you didn’t care.”

“So I like to gamble a little. No big deal.”

“For years, no one has paid attention to dreary old George Crosby at the used book store. Yet every day you take him a donut and a cup of orange spice tea. And rumor has it you’ve signed up to participate in the town’s spring cleanup in May. You wouldn’t do that if you didn’t care.”

“I got suckered in, that’s all.”

“Honey, you’ve melded yourself into this community and you don’t even realize it.”

The truth of her mother’s words hit a homerun. At first, she hadn’t realized she’d started to get involved in things. Maybe because she’d been enjoying herself. So why was it so hard to admit out loud? Why couldn’t she just say “You’re right, Mother. I love this place. I love Matt Ryan. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Just a few days ago she’d shown up on his doorstep and forced him to admit that he’d loved her and had wanted to marry her. Then she’d thrown herself at him. And from that moment until she’d walked out his door she’d been happier than she could ever remember.

So why had she wussed out just now? What? Was she afraid of a little lawsuit? Was she afraid of Inara’s agent and her smoker’s hack and dragon nails? That kind of fear had nothing to do with it. If
she
made the decision to walk away that was one thing. But someone threatening to
take
it away was another.

Or was she just all talk? Was she really just afraid to fail? Just a big old sissy because she feared she wouldn’t be the person everyone thought they saw? That she wouldn’t be good enough? That she’d never measure up to their expectations?

Matt had been right, in L.A. everyone blended in and she’d just become a speck in the overblown, overindulged, over-Botoxed landscape. But in Deer Lick, everyone knew what you did and they kept you in their crosshairs. They knew what kind of salad dressing you chose, if you ordered onions on your burgers. They knew how many times a year you visited the dentist and what brand of tampons you wore. And as much as she loved being a part of this community, that just plain scared the crap out of her.

She couldn’t live with herself if she disappointed them. If she disappointed Matt. She couldn’t live with herself if somewhere down the road he realized she was just a big giant nothing special. She couldn’t live with herself if she wasn’t the right woman to make him happy. She was complicated. Sometimes cranky. Often stubborn. And once in a while she was just a big chicken shit.

She should have told him how she felt.

She knew what he wanted in a relationship. And when he had started to pull back his emotions, she should have gone toe-to-toe with him. Forced him to believe they could work it out. Instead, she’d fallen back on what was safe. She’d run.

“You wouldn’t be crying over Matt if you truly didn’t care,” her mother said.

Kate blinked away her tears and turned from the one person who probably knew her better than anyone. She gripped the steering wheel and eased her foot down on the accelerator. “I care, Mom. But maybe . . . it’s just time for me to go home.”

Her mother’s sigh whispered up the back of her neck and sent cold chills down into her heart.

“Oh, my darling daughter, you’re already home.”

T
he following day, with a heavy heart and a lack of sleep, Kate had no time to feel sorry for herself. Her father was on his way home. She’d asked him to stop by the Sugar Shack first and to come in the front door. He’d chuckled and asked if she’d just mopped the kitchen. “Something like that,” she’d told him. Now she waited anxiously outside for his truck to appear around the corner.

The snow had been cleared from the sidewalks yet she was still careful as she turned to get an overall look at the place before he arrived. The new awning looked inviting with its chocolate background, big pastel polka dots and new script logo. The arborvitae that framed the door had been trimmed and the mums in the flower box were the burnished gold her mother loved.

Everything was perfect.

Everything except the giant ache in her heart. Last night had been the first in days when she hadn’t slept in Matt’s arms. She missed his warmth, his smile, the way he held her, the way he whispered her name when he was buried deep inside her. She missed his laughter, their bond, and the love that poured from his heart and soul even when he tried to keep it hidden.

He was the last person she’d ever wanted to hurt. And yet—

“Ruined the place. That’s what you’ve done.”

Kate spun to find Edna Price and her stupid moose-head walking stick hobbling up behind her. “I beg your pardon?”

Edna jerked her head toward the Sugar Shack. “Nothing was wrong with that place. But as soon as your dear sweet daddy blinked you go and bring your big-city ideas and ruin what wasn’t broke!”

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Kate turned again and looked at the exterior of the shop her parents had built from the ground up over three decades ago. “I hardly think I ruined it, Mrs. Price. I’d like to think I re-energized it so my father wouldn’t have to.”

Edna’s gray brows pulled together over her faded hazel eyes. “And did you think it was necessary to
re-energize
your mother’s wonderful recipes too?”

“How did you—”

“I peeked through the damned window, that’s how. You got the menu up there and there’s hardly anything left of your mama. For your information, young lady, her pastries were what made this place successful.”

Not for the first time, panic settled in Kate’s chest like a ship’s anchor. “I didn’t—”

“Of course you didn’t.” Edna gave the sidewalk a whack with her cane. “Selfish. That’s all you’ve ever been. Nothing like your mama and daddy. Nothing like your brother and sister.”

“Mrs. Price, I’ve tried to be nice to you. I’ve given you extra pickles with your sandwich, free brownies . . . Why do you hate me so much?”

“Why?” Every wrinkle on the woman’s face deepened. “I’ll tell you why. Because for over thirty years your mama was my best friend and for the last ten of those years I had to sit by and watch you slowly kill her. That’s why.”

“Kill her? Mrs. Price, you can’t keep blaming me for something I had nothing to do with.”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me that you had no idea about the heart attack you gave her when you left.”

“What?” Kate’s throat tightened. “When?”

“Like you don’t know.”

Despair balled up in the pit of her stomach. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking.”

Her mother’s friend studied her like she was a bug under an entomologist’s microscope. “The first one happened just a few days after you left. She spent two weeks in the CCU in Bozeman. Your daddy knew. Your brother knew. Your sister knew. The whole damn town knew. So you can’t tell me you didn’t know.”

Kate lifted her hand to her forehead and rubbed, trying to remember if anyone had mentioned anything at all about her mother’s health. True, when she’d left home, she hadn’t called for several months. But surely someone would have mentioned something so important. “Nobody said anything.”

“For ten years?”

After you bailed, your folks needed me.
Matt’s words came rushing back at her. Is that what he’d meant? Is that why they’d needed him? Because her mother had been gravely ill? Why hadn’t her father said something? Or Dean? Or Kelly? Nausea rolled through her stomach.

“I honestly didn’t know,” was all Kate could manage to say. In Edna Price’s eyes, she was a neglectful, worthless human being. And if what Edna was telling her was the truth, Kate couldn’t agree more.

Edna speared Kate with a disbelieving glare, then hobbled off.