He was smack dab in the middle of all of them, and he held their family together by sheer will. She had only seen him cry once, at least a decade ago, when the horse he’d raised from a colt, tutored in its care by their grandfather, had died.

  Her worry doubled and then tripled as the man she considered made of rock, iron, and steel cracked and crumbled right there in her arms. She certainly wasn’t strong enough to hold him together, but she sure did try.

  Will finally stepped away, his eyes glassy. No tears came out, but his voice carried pure pain as he said, “I have to get back to work.”

  “Do you need to stay here with me and Spence for a few nights?” she asked, wiping at her own face. Only the slightest of tears came away with her fingers. “To get away from Trav?”

  She was going to kill her youngest brother. He said plenty of inappropriate things too, thank you very much.

  Will shook his head. “No, I moved in next door already.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “You did? When?”

  He cleared his throat. “Just today. Before dawn.”

  “By yourself?”

  Fire moved through his expression, and she felt it filling her too. Right behind it came a wind so powerful, it could whip flames into tornadoes. Then a lashing, unrelenting rain, the kind that only came with hurricanes and tropical storms.

  “Yes,” he said. “By myself.” He stepped past her, muttering something she didn’t catch.

  She turned, desperate to get him to stay. “Will.”

  He whipped back to her. “I want to do better, Rissa. I do. I don’t know how. That’s what I can’t figure out. I know I’ve got this short fuse, and I’ve been trying to lengthen it. I know I speak harshly, and I’ve been trying to tame it.”

  “Just keep trying.”

  “I don’t think I’m ever going to be as patient or as kind as she wants me to be.” He shook his head again, what had turned soft and crumbly suddenly hardening in a single blink. “You’ll not say anything to anyone about this.”

  “No, sir,” she said.

  “I have to get back to work.”

  “Yes.”

  Will opened the door and walked out, pulling it closed behind him. Clarissa moved over to the window that faced the cabin next door and watched her brother cross the greening grass between the two buildings.

  She hadn’t been able to pray for her and Spencer to have a baby, but she could absolutely petition the Lord to help Will.

  “Please,” she whispered into the glass. “He loves her, and he’s such a good man. Please help him be exactly who she needs—and wants. Please.”

  21

  Will bent his ear closer to the construction foreman to hear the progress of the barn taking shape in front of him.

  “…and then we’ll get the roof shingled before that storm that’s supposed to be comin’ in, and then I’ll have my guys out here to clean up, and then we’ll get the stalls in.”

  “Just three,” Will said, reiterating what he’d told Curtis several times now.

  “Yep, three,” he said, consulting his clipboard. “But the cement is cured now, and it looks great. We’ve got all the fixtures comin’ in the week after next, and then it’s paint.”

  “Perfect,” Will said. He put a smile on his face and shook Curtis’s hand. “Thanks for everything.”

  “Of course.” Curtis went back toward the barn, where he spoke with another man in a hardhat, and Will reached up to remove his. He did know a few things about construction, and he hadn’t meant to sound critical when he asked Gretchen about why the crew at her shop did what they did.

  Doesn’t matter what you think you sounded like, he thought as he walked away from the barn. He’d fought hard to get this barn, as Lee and Daddy had wanted to spend the money on something else.

  They needed this barn, and Will had been overseeing it’s journey from foundation to completion. It wouldn’t be done for another month or so, and Will could hardly wait. He was tired of squeezing their hay into the barn they had, and that barn was a mish-mash of equipment, tack, broken tools, and hay.

  Will had to get that cleaned out, but he couldn’t really do it until the new barn was finished.

  “There you are,” Travis called, and Will looked up from the dirt at his feet. He’d just tossed his hardhat into the back of his truck, and he just wanted to get on home to his new cabin. It wasn’t new by any means, but he hadn’t lived there for more than a couple of weeks. Maybe fifteen days.

  “Hey,” he said as casually as he could. He hadn’t been getting along with Trav all that well, and he certainly didn’t feel like talking to his brother right now.

  “Goin’ home?” Trav asked, coming closer.

  “Yeah,” Will said. And he wanted to go alone, so he didn’t reach for his door handle. Trav wouldn’t have much patience for talking out in the evening heat. Will certainly didn’t. “What’s up?”

  “I’ll tell Shay to come over there,” he said, pulling out his phone.

  Will sighed and opened his door and got behind the wheel. Trav joined him in the truck, his fingers still flying across the screen. That done, he tucked his phone under his thigh and focused on Will. “How’s the cabin?”

  “Just fine,” Will said, not looking at his brother. “Yours?”

  “I…you know what?” He sounded sour, and Will honestly didn’t have the energy to deal with him tonight. “I don’t like living there alone. You didn’t have to move out so soon.”

  “You’ll be married soon,” Will said. He didn’t owe Travis any explanation. True, he’d packed his things and moved out in secret, without talking to Travis about it at all. But again, Travis wasn’t his father or his keeper, and Will didn’t need his permission to move. He’d spoken to Daddy, and no one else needed the cabin.

  “Not for two more months,” Travis said, a growl in the words.

  Will bumped down the dirt road. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “Why did you move out so soon?”

  “Were you just assuming I would be the one moving out?” Will glanced over to Travis.

  “I mean, I don’t—no. I thought we’d talk about it.” He frowned at Will, who quickly switched his gaze back out the windshield.

  “Yeah, well, all you were doin’ was yellin’ at me about Gretchen. I didn’t feel like talking about anything.”

  “I—” Travis started, plenty of punch in that single-letter word. He closed his mouth and breathed in through his nose. “How is Gretchen?”

  “Fine, I’m assuming,” Will said. “I don’t want to talk about her.”

  “You’re assuming? Did you two break-up?”

  “No,” Will said, when he could’ve easily said, not yet.

  “When’s the last time you saw her?”

  “What day is it?” Will asked.

  “Will,” Travis said, heaviness in his voice. “She’s your girlfriend. You have to make her a priority,”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Will said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “I already said I don’t want to talk about her.” He drove past Clarissa and Spencer’s cabin and parked in front of his.

  He threw Trav a dirty look and got out of the truck. His door slamming sounded like an angry exclamation point, and so did Trav’s. “Will,” he said, jogging after him.

  “Travis, go on home,” Will said.

  “You should go see her,” he said, coming up the steps right behind Will.

  “I don’t need to be lectured tonight.” He barreled into the house. He’d lock himself in his bedroom if he had to. Pressure built in his chest, and he suspected he needed to let it all out before it made him explode. So no retreating to his bedroom.

  He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He tossed one to Travis, along with one of his hottest glares.

  “You might as well say it,” he said. He’d known Trav for his whole life. He knew when Travis had something on his chest, and he knew when he needed to let him scream his frustrations into the sky. He wouldn’t leave until he spoke his mind anyway. Might as well get it over with.

  Will took a long drink of his water and recapped the bottle. “Are you mad at me?”

  “You know what?” Travis asked. “Yeah, I am. You moved out without saying a single thing to me. How do you think I felt when I realized you weren’t coming home at night, and then that you had a whole new home and I was all alone?”

  “Is this about you or me?”

  “It’s about me,” he said. “Right now. We’ll get to you.”

  “Can’t wait,” Will said, immediately wishing he hadn’t. He met Trav’s eyes, and thankfully, he and Trav could communicate with just their eyes.

  “You didn’t have to move out,” Travis said. “I would’ve told you that if you’d talked to me.”

  “I know that place is for you and Shay,” Will said. “I saw you two there, a couple of months ago. I knew then that she’d come live on the farm with you, and I’d need to find somewhere else to live.”

  “But not for two more months,” Travis said. “And I didn’t know that. Shay and I just barely talked about where we’d live.”

  Will finished his water and waited while Trav drank too. “I didn’t mean to lecture you about Gretchen,” he said.

  Will nodded, because he did love his brother. “I shouldn’t have moved out without talking to you.”

  A knock sounded on the door, and Travis’s gaze flew in that direction. “That’s Shay.”

  “Let her in,” Will said. “I’ll find something for dinner.”

  Travis went to open the door, and Will rustled up some frozen chicken cordon bleu from the freezer. He had a bagged salad, and that would have to do for tonight.

  He set the oven and then finally turned toward the front door. Shay was just starting to move away from Travis, and relief filled Will. He didn’t want to watch his brother kiss his fiancée, not when Will hadn’t even texted with Gretchen that day.

  He probably needed to go see her. It was Thursday, so she was real busy with her daddy tonight, but he could ask her to dinner tomorrow. Even just taking her one of her favorite meals would count, and Will didn’t mind his time in his truck if he got to see Gretchen at the end of the drive.

  “Hey, Will,” Shay said, smiling at him as she walked through the living room.

  “Howdy,” he said. “I have chicken cordon bleu. It’ll be about forty-five minutes.”

  “That’s fine,” Travis said, following Shay and slinging his arm around her as she sat at the bar. “Right, baby?”

  “Sure,” she said. “You don’t have to feed us at all, Will.” Shay had always been kind to him, and Will did his best to smile at her. She saw the effort, and her smile slipped. After a quick glance at Travis, she asked, “How’s the barn coming?”

  “Great,” Will said.

  “Oh, you know what?” she asked. “I got those new running packs. I should’ve brought you one.”

  “I’ll come by this weekend,” he said, turning when the oven beeped to alert him that it had come to temperature. He slid the frozen chicken into the oven and started for the couch.

  “You’re still running, right?” she asked.

  Will yawned, thinking of his four-thirty alarm. “Yes, ma’am.” He collapsed on the couch, his eyes falling closed.

  Travis said something, but Will didn’t have any more brain cells to converse. They could stay or go, talk or not. He didn’t care. He just wanted to sleep until dinner.

  When he slept, he didn’t have to think about Gretchen. He didn’t have to beat himself up for being who he was—and that he’d never be the man she wanted him to be.

  All he did was dream of a cabin in the woods, with trees that had leaves that turned yellow in the fall. There were two deck chairs there, and Will had the distinct feeling in the dream that he’d built them for him and his wife.

  They sat on the edge of a river that flowed out of a natural spring and into a pond down the hill a little way. Trav and Shay lived by the pond, but Will and his wife had the spring.

  The woman came toward him, carrying a couple of glasses of sweet tea, and Will looked up at her, his heart filled with love and belonging.

  Then the woman disappeared, and he never could get a good look at her face. He sipped the sweet tea, alone in the deck chairs, with the yellow leaves and the bubbling spring.

  Always alone.

  The following week, Will pulled into the parking lot at Sweet Water Taffy. He hadn’t been here in weeks, though he had found his courage and seen Gretchen last weekend. Mama had asked about her on Sunday, telling Will to invite her to their Sabbath Day dinner.

  He hadn’t done it yet. He didn’t get to see her all that often, and when he did, he didn’t want to share her with his family.

  The shop looked good from the front, and Will parked and went toward the glass door. It opened, though the shop wouldn’t re-open to the public until tomorrow. Will’s heart pounded as he went inside, much like it had the first time he’d come here.

  Now, he wasn’t nervous about buying too many treats and what they’d do to his blood sugar, but he was still anxious to see Gretchen.

  She lifted her head from where she studied something at the small, two-person table right beside the front window. “Hey,” she said, her voice clear and bright.

  Will relaxed the way he always did around her. “Hey.”

  She stood and embraced him, and that one hug might’ve been the thing to push him over the edge and fall all the way in love with her. That thought, and those feelings, sent his pulse to racing again, and he stepped away.

  “Take me on a tour?” He looked over to the familiar candy cases. “You’ve got chocolates in there.”

  “Yes,” Gretchen said. “Jon’s been in the candy kitchen all day.”

  Will watched her as she spoke, and he’d never thought she liked Jon for more than a friend and employee. Will didn’t have a problem with Jon. It was Jon who didn’t like Will.

  “He’s in the back?” he asked, glancing toward the swinging door that led back into the two candy kitchens.

  “Yes,” Gretchen said, reaching to close her book and pick it up. She didn’t reach for his hand, and he waited for her to lead the way toward the back of the retail space and around the register.

  They went through the swinging door, which squeaked and annoyed Will. For some reason, he wanted to be here as much as he didn’t. He told himself that Sweet Water Taffy was extremely important to Gretchen, and he could swallow his discomfort for the next few hours.

  For her, he absolutely could.

  Her candy kitchen hadn’t been touched by the flames, but they’d ripped a lot of it out as the smoke had gotten into the walls and had to be cleaned out.

  “It’s all the same appliances,” she said. “And the tables. Only the walls are new.”

  Will swept his eyes around the kitchen, seeing it as it had been before. “It’s great,” he said, slipping his hand into Gretchen’s.

  “The office,” she said, taking him past the short hallway where he’d kissed her weeks and weeks ago when he’d brought her lunch.

  He’d been in her office too, but it was much brighter now. “Wow,” he said. “This is great.”

  “I had them put in the bright white,” she said. “And I bought that gray desk.”

  She’d also added a row of three filing cabinets, the middle one holding a potted plant. There were no windows, but she’d put a big picture of what looked like windows being opened to a beach scene behind her.

  Her computer sat on the desk, the screen dark. Gretchen loved to plan in her notebooks and journals, and Will had been doing some online research about the best ones so he could get her an elite planner for her birthday.

  “I like it,” he said.

  “I love how it turned out.” She smiled at him, and Will leaned down to kiss her. She kissed him back, and Will relaxed even more.

  “Are you excited about the grand re-opening tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Nervous,” she admitted.

  “I think the moment of ‘someday, somehow’ has arrived, Gretchen,” he said. “You did it. It’s almost all okay again.”

  She nodded, her anxiety evident. “And the small kitchen.” She went across the hall to the candy kitchen where the fire had started. Jon worked in there, and he looked up as Will and Gretchen entered the room.

  “Hey,” he said, going back to wiping the counter. “Almost cleaned up.”

  “Just giving Will a tour,” she said, throwing Jon a smile. Will watched the exchange, but he couldn’t tell anything different between her and Jon.

  “Have a good night,” he said. “I’ll be here at eight.”

  “Okay,” Gretchen said, and she looked at Will. “Take me to dinner?”

  Hope burned through his chest, and he wondered if all of his doubts had just been his own demons trying to chase him to the edge of a cliff, where he’d throw himself off.

  “Sure,” he said, his voice somewhat choked. “Anywhere you want.”

  22

  Gretchen didn’t want to go out. Her very bones ached, and she was so tired of thinking. Everyone around her had so many questions, and everyone looked to her for the answers.

  She led Will out to the back parking lot, but his truck wasn’t there. “Oh, you came in the front.”

  “I can walk around,” he said. He ran his hand up her arm and along her neck. “Gretchen, you—we don’t have to go out. Do you want to just go home?”

  Tears pricked her eyes, because Will did know her so well. She nodded, and Will did too. “I’ll follow you there,” he said. “I can go get something in town and bring it out.”

  “Okay,” she said, closing her eyes. The past six weeks had been a living nightmare, and sometimes Will had eased her stress, and sometimes he’d added to it. She felt stretched thin, and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

  She told herself it would all be over tomorrow, because Taffy was going to re-open in the morning. But she knew what her bank account looked like, and she knew what the business books looked like, and she’d be paying for this fire for a long, long time still.