I sat the tray on top of my dresser and got to work plating our food. I grabbed a couple Styrofoam cups and poured our coffee, making hers just the way she liked it. A lot of sugar and creamer with a little coffee. I’d never understand how she drank it this sweet, but who was I to say what her taste buds enjoyed?

  Once everything was ready, I carried both of our plates over and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” I said, trying to rouse her from her slumber.

  She grunted but didn’t move.

  “It’s time to get up, sleepyhead,” I whispered as I sat one plate down on the bed and rubbed her shoulder.

  “It’s too early,” she grumbled.

  “I have a surprise for you,” I said, trying to coax her.

  “Does this surprise involve me getting out of bed?”

  “All you need to do is roll over and sit up,” I said with a laugh.

  “Do I smell coffee?”

  “You’ll have to roll over to find out.”

  I grabbed the plate from the bed so she didn’t make a mess of it.

  With a groan, she rolled over, her blonde hair spilling in front of her face.

  She pushed it out of her face with a huff and stared over at me, patting the covers in her lap.

  Ainsleigh Courtright would probably never be a morning person, but I couldn’t resist doing this for her. Having her all to myself for just a little while before she set out to do whatever she had planned for the day with Dylan and Aspen.

  “What’s all this?” she asked, her voice raspy from just waking up.

  “I wanted to do something nice for you. Thought maybe I could make you breakfast in bed and we could finish the conversation we started last night,” I confessed, hoping to hide the hopefulness in my voice.

  I handed over the plate of food and leaned over to the nightstand then handed her the cup of coffee.

  She placed the plate in her lap on top of the covers, then took the cup in both hands and took a long sip of coffee. She moaned at the taste, and I diverted my thoughts at the sound.

  She took another long sip before handing the cup over to me.

  I placed it on the nightstand next to mine.

  “This is sweet of you,” she said as she took a bite of the eggs.

  “It’s nothin’. Just thought we could enjoy each other’s company instead of hidin’ from each other today,” I confessed, taking a bite from my plate.

  “What did you want to talk about?” she asked as she took another bite.

  “How’s your eggs? I didn’t know if you’d want scrambled or fried so I took a gamble and scrambled them with cheese.”

  I wouldn’t tell her that I basically did rock, paper, scissors to determine which I should make. She didn’t need to know that embarrassing detail.

  “They’re perfect. But I doubt you wanted to talk about how the eggs taste.” She smirked as she sat the fork on her plate, waiting for me to talk about what I really wanted to.

  “You’re right. I just thought I could bring up somethin’ easy first before I dove into the heavy conversation.”

  “You know I’d rather you just come out with it, right?”

  I did know, but I didn’t want to spook her. Not when we seemed to be getting along.

  “Yeah, I know. What are your plans, Ainsleigh?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you plan on staying? Are you leaving again? What do you want for your future?”

  I took a bite of my food so I wouldn’t throw more questions at her before she could even blink. I also needed the distraction to calm my racing mind.

  She pointed to her coffee cup, and I grabbed hers as well as my own. I needed something in my hands to distract me from pulling her into my arms while we had this conversation.

  She took a sip and closed her eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was to enjoy the taste or to give her more time to come up with the answers I longed to hear.

  I waited for a beat. Then another. Then another.

  It felt like time stood still, and I couldn’t breathe as I waited for her response.

  It felt like a thousand minutes passed before she finally looked over at me.

  Worry etched on her face as she opened her mouth then closed it. Like she struggled to find the right words.

  “Can you listen to my entire answer before you say anythin’?” she asked as she worried her lip between her teeth. Her telltale sign that she was worried about my reaction to her response. She always did that years ago, and seeing her reaction, my heart rate quickened.

  “Y-es,” I choked out.

  “I don’t want to give you the short answers to those questions. I want to give you a thought-out response because I feel like you of all people deserve it. Before I came home, I wanted so desperately to find a job in Virginia, so I had a reason not to return.”

  I tried to keep the expression on my face as neutral as possible as she took a long breath before she continued. I wasn’t sure if I succeed, but I still tried. She told me to wait for her to finish and I was trying so hard to follow through.

  “Now that I’m back, I’m remembering why I love it here. I’m remembering why I wanted to go off to college to feel accomplished so I could come home and make this ranch the best it could possibly be. So, to answer your first question. Do I plan on staying? I’m leaning toward staying in Texas. My family is so happy I’m back home. I’m loving reconnecting with everyone and seeing how happy my parents are now that I’m home.”

  She didn’t mention me, and I tried not to let that hurt. But it did. More than it should.

  “I just don’t know what I want anymore. Do I see myself working on this ranch like you and my brothers? I can picture it. But on the other hand, I’m not sure if I want to see what else is out there. Is there something better out there where my heart would be just as happy? I don’t know. Everything I’ve applied to aside from one position has chosen another candidate, and that makes me feel like I have no other options but to work on the ranch, and I hate feeling like I’m saddled to be here. Leaving here helped me see what’s outside of this ranch. On one hand, I know that I could make a difference here, but on the other, I just want to keep my options open.”

  She took another deep breath along with a sip of her coffee before she handed the cup back to me. Taking a bite of her food, she slowly chewed the bite of pancake before she continued.

  I took a moment to let her answers sink in. I felt like she had one foot out the door. I only wanted happiness for her. Even if that happiness didn’t include me.

  Closing my eyes, I thought long and hard about how to respond. I thought about how her answers made me feel. My heart longed to give her a reason to stay. To show her how much being here would make her happy. But I was hyper-focused on how she never once mentioned me in her confession. How I didn’t even rank as part of her reason for staying. And my head told me to cut my losses. To forgive her for leaving, but to not let her get close.

  Right now, I wanted nothing but to pull her into my arms, but my wounded pride wouldn’t allow me.

  I nodded and remained silent, because knowing me, if I responded right now, I would only say things that I didn’t mean. Words I couldn’t take back.

  My fingers clutched the paper plate in my hand, and we ate the rest of our breakfast in silence. The food tasted like metal in my mouth, but I finished every bite because I needed to do something with my hands instead of shaking her and making her see what she just couldn’t yet.

  She belonged here. But she had to realize that on her own.

  After she finished her food, I took the plate from her and stood. I walked over and threw the plate into the trash can and busied myself with putting the lids back on the containers so I could take them back to the main house.

  Her hand touched my shoulder, and I tensed.

  I was in my head too much to talk to her right now. I pleaded to myself that she took the hint at my nonresponse and walked away.

  “I’m sorry if what I said wasn’t what you wanted to hear. I just want to be as honest with you as possible. Hurting you was never my intention,” I heard her say but I remained standing with my back to her.

  A few moments later I heard the door shut, and I turned toward the sound and screamed out my frustration.

  I couldn’t keep doing this to myself. I couldn’t have her this close and remain sane. I couldn’t have her this close and not have her with me.

  I just needed to figure out if I would fight for her or allow her to walk away.

  twenty-two

  AINSLEIGH

  I’d have loved nothing more than to stay there with Gentry for the rest of the day, but I got the impression that he needed his space after my confession.

  My heart was so torn. I loved being back home. I loved helping on the ranch. I didn’t even know what I was fighting for anymore. I didn’t know if I wanted to find a job elsewhere or if I wanted to stay and fight for my rightful place on my family ranch. I’d never felt this conflicted before, and I loathed the feeling.

  I disliked the not knowing of it all.

  While I was away at college, I had every detail mapped out. The structure helped with the anxiety and being away from home. But if I looked into it further, ever since the loss of her, I needed the mundaneness of it all. Before losing her precious soul, I was spontaneous, loved making decisions on the fly, but now even thinking about being the old version of myself made my heart rate rise and my hands clammy.

  I stopped walking when I got to the end of the path that led to the barn and looked down at my phone.

  The date caused me to gasp.

  How had I not realized that today was Bella’s birthday?

  Tears welled in my eyes, and I didn’t stop them from falling.

  I couldn’t break down here. Not when I had to potentially face my parents when I entered the house.

  Without a second thought, I ran up the porch stairs and into the house.

  No one was in sight which was a blessing.

  I didn’t want them to stop me and make me explain the emotions that were clear on my face.

  Quickly, I made my way through the house and up to my room. Throwing on a pair of shorts and an oversized baby doll shirt, I slid on a pair of flip flops and threw my hair in a messy bun.

  I didn’t bother looking in the mirror, because where I was going no one would judge me for my attire.

  I raced down the stairs and grabbed the keys to my SUV before I headed out the front door.

  I stopped just as I took the first step down the stairs.

  Gentry.

  He’d been so nice to me this morning, making me breakfast and his intentions were so pure.

  I had to go back and find him. We needed to remember this day together.

  I raced around the side of the house, and ran the entire way to the barn.

  Pulling the barn door back, I didn’t bother shutting it as I took the steps to the loft two at a time.

  My breath heaved as I lifted my hand and knocked on the door.

  When no answer came, I tried the doorknob and since it wasn’t locked, I let myself inside.

  But Gentry was nowhere to be found.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed his number, frantic to find him so I we could be there for each other today.

  Only he didn’t answer.

  I let out a sigh and shook my head, mentally berating myself for everything I said this morning.

  Gentry deserved my honesty, but he also deserved so much more from me than the indecisive answers I kept giving him. I needed to make up my mind.

  I sent him a text letting him know that I wanted to talk to him, and let myself out of his room, making sure the door was shut behind me.

  I wanted us to go here together, but I didn’t want to put off going. Before I could try and talk myself out of it, I walked in the direction of my Jeep.

  Taking a deep breath once I got to my Jeep, I opened the door and climbed inside. My palms grew sweaty as the realization hit me on where I was heading. With shaky hands, I placed the key in the ignition and started the vehicle. I put the Jeep in reverse and backed out of the parking spot, coming to a stop once I faced the direction to go down the driveway. I could still turn around and go to my room.

  But I didn’t.

  Instead, I used every ounce of strength I had to put the Jeep in drive and headed toward my destination.

  Twenty minutes later, I pulled through the wrought iron gates of the cemetery. Even though I hadn’t been to this spot in years, I knew the way. I’d never forget where she was buried as long as I lived.

  My heart rate picked up the closer I got.

  The tree came into view first.

  It was a gorgeous weeping willow tree that sat off to the right. The spot was picked because of the beauty of it. She’d always have a beautiful resting place if nothing else. The tears started just as I pulled up beside it and shut off the Jeep. I didn’t bother wiping them away. More would come the moment I reached her headstone.

  I got out but didn’t bother taking the keys out of the ignition. No one would bother me here. On unsteady legs, I walked toward her. There was only one headstone directly under the tree. Moving its beautiful branches out of the way, I stepped under the tree and it came into view. A bench sat off to the left, something that was placed here long after I was in Virginia.

  Sitting in front of the stone, I read the name that was printed in big, bold letters.

  Arabella Faith Parkhurst.

  A beautiful name for a beautiful little girl.

  My hand reached up and traced each letter as more tears escaped. I could barely see the letters to finish tracing them. Once I was done, my mind and body were spent. I laid down in front of the headstone and cried harder than I had since the day we’d lost her.

  A day that instantly came to the forefront of my mind.

  “Mom, there’s no way I’m going to be able to fit into this dress,” I yelled into the hall so my mom could hear me.

  I’d gained no more weight than when I’d tried it on, but I was bigger than I was a month ago. The skin of my stomach now stretched to the max, and I had four more weeks to go. There was no way I was going to make it that long. She’d be here long before that due date, I just knew it.

  “You’ll look just as beautiful as the day you tried it on. Now put it on so I can see how it looks,” my mother said as she came into the room to help me get ready.

  She shut the door behind her so I could take off my nightgown and get dressed without one of my brothers walking in.

  I unbuttoned my nightgown and slipped off the cotton material. I held up my arms, and my mother helped me slip the black cotton material over my head. She pulled the dress down to cover my stomach. The dress hit just above my knees. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel tight like I’d assumed.

  “See, you look beautiful,” my mother replied as she turned me to face the mirror on my closet.

  I took in my reflection. The dress was a simple black cotton sundress. I should’ve gotten something dressier, but no other material felt good on my stomach other than cotton. No one would see it anyway, with my graduation gown covering it. I got a pair of flat black dressy sandals to match so I would be able to comfortably walk across the stage.

  Turning around, my hand hit the bottle of perfume that sat on the edge of my vanity. Without thinking, I bent forward and tried to catch it before it hit the ground.

  I felt a sudden twinge in my stomach that felt like a pop before I let out a scream at the pain that it caused. The pain was so severe it brought me to my knees and caused me to curl up in a ball.

  “Momma, something is wrong,” I screamed as she rushed to my side.

  She screamed for someone to help as she tried to assure me it was okay. That was when I felt wetness between my legs. I reached down to check and see if it was just my water that had broken. Only when I brought my hand up it was covered in a stain of red. My hand shook at the reality of the situation.

  Something was wrong.

  Very wrong.

  I felt it in the pit of my cramping stomach as I continued to stare at my blood-stained hand.

  Suddenly, Holden was there. In my room. At my side.

  “Sis, it’s going to be okay. I’m going to pick you up, and we’re going to get you to the hospital. I’m gonna need you to remain calm and breathe for me, okay,” he said as I felt his hands go underneath my body and lift me up in his arms.

  A scream of pain tore from me at the movement. Tears might’ve been falling down my cheeks. I wasn’t sure. I only knew everything was blurry and that there was pain. So much excruciating pain and blood. This couldn’t be happening.

  Holden climbed into the back of my mom’s Jeep. He held me in his arms. Somehow without putting me down.

  “You need to hang in there for me, Ainsleigh. Mom is going to get us there before we know it, and you’re going to be just fine. So is little miss Arabella.”

  I choked over the cries. This pain wasn’t right. My body felt so heavy.

  “Just keep breathing for me and concentrate on my voice,” he said as he rubbed his thumb up and down my arm.

  I tried. I really did. But I felt so weak. So tired. All I wanted to do was rest my eyes. I closed them and felt myself slipping away.

  The last thing I remembered was Holden screaming for my mom to drive faster and for me to wake up.

  The crunching of the grass brought me out of my thoughts as I pushed myself up to see who was here.

  Holden.

  His pain-filled gaze stared past me at her headstone as he walked the rest of the way and sat behind me, pulling me into his arms.

  I leaned back into him and shifted to my side, burrowing my head into his arm.

  I sobbed.

  A gut-wrenching sob that needed to break free.

  I cried for all the moments that I’d never get to have with my little girl. For never seeing her take her first breath. For never hearing that joyous first cry that every parent waited with bated breath to hear. For never getting to know her personality or hear her laughter. For never hearing her first word and never getting to see her look at me and call me mama. For never getting to put Band-Aids on her boo boos and kissing them all better.