“Then explain it to me.” Jack slammed his hands down on the table. Serena jumped back with a gasp, and he leaned back in his chair. “Sorry,” he said. “Let’s not fight, okay? We’ve done too much of that.”

  Serena nodded, embarrassed. She hadn’t meant to lose her temper. Jack was breathing hard too, getting himself under control.

  “I want to understand,” he said. “You keep claiming you’ve changed, you’ve got this new life, but all I see when I look at you is the same old Serena. I see my Serena, and is that so bad?”

  “It’s not bad,” she said. Sadness welled up inside her, and she blinked back tears. “It’s just, it’s not me. Not anymore. I want more from life now. I expect more from myself.”

  Jack’s eyes flashed anew, but he managed a smile. “More? I could give you more. Tell me what you need.”

  “Something to get excited about. A passion, like...” Serena gazed out the window, at the picture-postcard street. “You know Gran’s Bakery on Bruckner? Well, she’s selling it. I thought I might buy the place, open a bakery of my own. I’d have cookies out front, pies and cakes, custom orders—”

  “A bakery?” Jack burst out laughing. “Don’t you know bakers start at four AM?”

  “When did you think I got up, to have your towels ready for your shower? To have breakfast on the table when you got downstairs?”

  “A couple of hot towels. Yeah, that’s the same thing as stocking a whole bakery—not to mention running the place all day.” Jack wiped his eyes, still chuckling. “It’s a sweet dream, but face it, you can’t hold a job. You don’t have the head for it. You’re just not the type.”

  Serena grit her teeth. “What type am I, then?”

  Jack leaned in, smiling. “The type who bakes for her kids, in her own kitchen. You always took such good care of us. Don’t sit there and tell me it never made you happy.”

  Serena sat silent. What could she say? She loved baking for her family, always had, always would. But she could do more than that, and Jack couldn’t see it, refused to even consider the idea. Jack would never support her, not like Will had. He didn’t want her to grow, or to reach for her dreams. He just wanted what he’d had—his dutiful wife, his storybook life. Her dreams didn’t fit with that, so out they went.

  “I think we’re done here,” she said.

  “What? We haven’t even ordered.”

  “I’m not talking about dinner.” Serena got up. “We’re through, you and me. We can talk about custody, but we’re done. I’m out.”

  “Serena!”

  She turned and fled, relieved she’d brought her own car. Jack followed her outside, but when she peeled out, he stayed standing on the curb. She drove till he’d vanished from her rearview mirror, and then she pulled over to the side of the road. She leaned back in her seat and let her tears flow at last—for her dreams, for her marriage, and most of all for Will.

  Will had been there for her right from the start. He’d taken a chance on her when she’d needed a job, then coached her through it when she’d dropped the ball. When she’d suggested the Christmas fair, he’d jumped on the idea, half-baked as it was. He’d believed in her vision—he’d believed in her. He’d believed in her dreams and pushed her to pursue them. He’d been everything Jack wasn’t, and now he was gone. If only she’d been braver—if only she’d seen. She’d had everything she wanted there in her grasp. If only, if only she’d had the strength to hold on.

  18

  Will knelt in the fragrant straw, waiting for Victor to settle. Without Serena to distract him, the big horse kept trying to peer over his shoulder, angling for a glimpse of Will working on his leg.

  “There’s nothing to see, boy. I’m just grabbing that bandage.”

  Victor stomped and snorted. Will stroked his flank, his patience wearing thin. His head throbbed like a rotten tooth. His eyes felt scraped raw. He needed coffee and aspirin, and for Victor to stand still.

  “I brought you a carrot,” he said. “But you gotta be good. Knock it off with your twitching, and—there you go. Good boy.” Will unwound Victor’s bandage and examined the new skin underneath. His wound had healed well, barely a scar. When Will palpated it, Victor didn’t flinch.

  “And that’s it. You’re done.” Will got to his feet and fed Victor his carrot. Outside, the first red of dawn had appeared along the horizon. Alex would be gone from the house by now, out checking his stock or mending his fences. Travis would be up with his horses. But Dad would be home with Scarlett. There’d be coffee brewing, and something to eat. Will left Victor to his munching and headed up to the house. He let himself in and made a beeline for the kitchen.

  “Scarlett? Dad? Anyone home?”

  “Scarlett’s gone to town to pick up my prescriptions,” said Dad. He was seated at the kitchen table, watching the sunrise out the window.

  “On your own, huh?” Will grabbed a mug and poured himself some coffee. Dad watched him, eyes narrowed, as he took his first sip.

  “You got those strawberry-ripple eyes,” he said. “All shot through with red.”

  Will gulped more coffee. It burned his tongue. Dad blew out a long breath.

  “So you were out drinking, and on a Monday night. You going to tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to drag it out of you?”

  Will wiped at his mouth. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “It’s Christmas, is all. I had some Christmas cheer.”

  “It’s December twenty-first,” said Dad. “And you’re here all hung over, working on my horse.” He wheeled around the table, blocking Will’s escape. “Look, if I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that nothing gets solved holding it inside. If you’ve got a problem, might as well spit it out. Your brothers and I…we’re your family. We want to be there for you. But you have to let us in.”

  Will opened his mouth to deny it, then he sagged against the counter. Dad had a point. He knew his brothers had been through tough times of their own, times they wouldn’t have got through without family to lean on. Alex had worn himself to a nub trying to shoulder everything on his own. Letting Juniper in had been his saving grace. And Travis? He’d spent years on the go, trying to outrun his problems. Facing them head-on, facing his family, his past, had healed something inside him Will hadn’t known was broken.

  “I guess I’ve felt guilty,” he said. It felt strange admitting that, talking feelings with Dad. He pushed on all the same, needing this off his chest. “Alex went through so much, and Travis as well. I guess I felt bad, y’know, loading them up with my problems when I wasn’t here to help them.”

  “I got that much,” said Dad. “But you still haven’t said what those problems might be.”

  Will sucked in a deep breath. He needed this badly, needed someone to listen. He’d held back long enough, and what good had it done? “It’s been a rough road,” he said. “Settling back into town, getting the clinic on its feet.” He grabbed a chair and sat down. He felt tired and battered, like the stress of the past month had all caught up with him at once. “I failed my inspection last month. I’m up to code now, but that’s a bare minimum, and it’s broken the bank. I got a million things still need doing—updating the exam rooms, a new X-ray machine—and I don’t know how I’ll do ’em. Especially now, with...”

  “With what?”

  Will swallowed painfully. A lump had risen in his throat, and try as he might, he couldn’t choke it down. “Serena’s gone,” he said. “She was the one who got me this far, brought the business up to code—she got me all these discounts, the hardware store, the electrician. Even the plumber fixed my upstairs at cost.”

  Dad let out a low whistle. “Jenner did that? Or did you get a new plumber?”

  “No, it was Jenner. Serena’s got the magic touch.”

  “I’ll say.” Dad scowled. “I’ve been using Jenner for decades. Most he ever gave me was a coupon for Outback—buy one full meal, get another half-price.”

  Will chuckled in spite of himself. “We got one of those, too.”

  Dad was quiet a while, thinking, then he turned away. “You really couldn’t come to us? Your guilt was that bad?”

  “I kept thinking, kept telling myself you had enough on your plates. I couldn’t impose.”

  “Impose, bullshit.” Dad thumped his knee. “Was Alex imposing when he called you about Victor?”

  “Of course not. But that’s my job.”

  “You did it free of charge. Just like we’d do for you, if only you’d ask.” Dad came closer, eyes sharp. “I can’t remember you ever asking for anything. Even as a kid, you’d do your own thing. You never seemed to need us, so—”

  “I needed you.” The words tumbled out unbidden, and Will bit his lip. “I needed you,” he repeated. “But Alex needed you more, so he could learn how to run the ranch. Travis needed Mom to take him to his rodeos. I guess I just thought—I thought you might be proud of me if I looked after myself.”

  Dad made a choked sound. “You know I am proud, right? And your mother was, too. You were her independent one, her little adventurer.” He shook his head. “But maybe we should’ve seen, should’ve let you know you weren’t on your own. We should’ve let you know we were there for you, too.”

  Will sat with his eyes closed, letting Dad’s words wash over him. A dam had burst inside him, the hurt and loneliness of his childhood pouring out all at once—all the resentment he’d held onto, all the anger and regret.

  “I could’ve said something, too,” he said, once he could trust his voice. “I guess I still could. I could tell you I’m broke, holding on by a thread. I could tell you I’m...”

  “Yeah?”

  “Serena didn’t just quit.” Will hung his head. “She left me, and I deserved it. She needed someone to believe in her, but when push came to shove, I let her down. I made a choice for her I had no business making, and she told me where to stick it.”

  Dad grunted laughter. “Can’t blame her for that.”

  “I don’t,” said Will. “I’m to blame all the way, but what can I do?”

  “Did you tell her you’re sorry? That you know you were wrong?” Dad clapped him on the shoulder. “If Serena’s the one, you’ve got to make sure she knows it. You’ve got to fight for her like you fought for that clinic.”

  “Like I fought for the clinic…” Will straightened up. “She has a dream too. I think she wants to go for it, but—”

  “What?”

  Will surged to his feet. “I’ve got to go. Before it’s too late.”

  “That’s right. Go get her.” Dad’s laughter echoed after him as Will dashed down the hall. He had an idea, but time was running short.

  Wait for me, Serena. This time, I’ll get it right.

  Nathan sat squinting at his plate, eyes dark with suspicion.

  “What’s the matter? Aren’t you hungry?” Serena held out the syrup. “It’s chocolate, not carob. I wouldn’t do that again.”

  “It’s chocolate chip pancakes.” Nathan pushed his plate away. “You only make these when something bad happened.”

  “What? I do not.”

  “Yeah, you do.” Julie dug into hers, cutting off a big bite. “I’m still going to eat mine, but these are bad news pancakes. You made them when Great-Gran died. You made them again when you and Dad got divorced. What happened this time? Are we losing the house?”

  “What? No! Of course not.” Serena sat down heavily. Her legs felt like rubber. “I just wanted to talk to you about—about next year.”

  “What about next year?” Nathan looked suspicious and a little scared.

  “I know you were hoping Dad might move back in, but...” She drew a deep breath. “But that’s not going to happen. He won’t be living with us, but you’ll still get to see him. You’ll still have your weekends, and he’ll come to your games.”

  Nathan looked puzzled. “What else?”

  “Uh...well, he can come to your birthdays. And in the summers, he can take you on vacation. You could do that Grand Canyon tour you were so excited about.”

  “The Grand Canyon?” Nathan glanced at Julie. She rolled her eyes and let her fork clatter to her plate.

  “Just get to the bad part, Mom. Rip off that Band-Aid.”

  Serena blinked, confused. “That was the bad part. That Dad’s not moving back in.”

  “Oh.” Nathan reached for his plate and doused his pancakes in syrup. “But he’s staying in town?”

  “Yes. Yes, he is.” Serena sat up straighter. “This town is his home, too, just as it always has been. Besides, he wants to be near you, to be part of your lives.”

  “But not part of your life.” Julie stabbed her pancakes.

  “It’s for the best,” said Serena. “We’re not the same people we were when we met. We’ve both grown up, and we’ve grown apart. The only thing we still agree on is how much we love you.”

  “But we can still see him as much as we want?” Nathan was smiling, syrup on his chin.

  “That’s right. You can see him.”

  “What about Doctor Harvey?” Julie had stopped eating. “Can we still see him, and go to the ranch? It’s so fun out there, and Thora said we could be friends.”

  “Yeah, Will’s the best. And the horses as well.” Nathan grinned widely. “I fed Victor a banana. He licked my hand.”

  Serena’s heart sank. She’d anticipated tears over Jack not coming home, but how to explain Will?

  “I’m not sure about that,” she said. “Doctor Harvey’s finished renovating his clinic, so—so he won’t be needing my help anymore.”

  “So, you got fired again?” Nathan was frowning.

  “Not fired, exactly. Just, I guess I sort of...ran out of job.” She tried a crooked grin. “You don’t need to worry, though. I’ll find something else to do, and we’ll be just fine. We’ll have a great Christmas and go from there.”

  “If you don’t have to work, you’ll be home to help decorate.” A new gleam had appeared in Julie’s eye. “We can do the whole house now, not just the tree.”

  “And the treehouse as well, with the lights and the star.”

  “That’s right. We’ll do it all, right after you clean your plates.” Serena got up, feeling lighter. Her heart was still broken, but the kids were just fine. They’d have a great day hanging lights everywhere, draping wreaths on the staircase and snowflakes on the walls. She’d bake up a storm, all the fruitcake and mince pies Nathan and Julie could eat. Whatever the new year might bring, she could give them this.

  “Mom?” Julie was looking up at her, her eyes big and round. “I was wondering, are you happy now?”

  “I’ve got you, don’t I?” Serena bent down and hugged her. “Yes, Julie. I’m happy. As long as I’ve got you, that’s not going to change.”

  “Then I’m happy, too,” declared Nathan. “As long as you keep making us pancakes. But no more bad news ones.”

  Serena chuckled at that, though her eyes stung with tears. She was happy, no doubt, but her heart ached for Will. She was ready, now, to stand on her own. But she’d found her strength too late. She’d still fight for herself, but she knew any triumph would taste bittersweet, like baking a cake to eat by herself.

  Cake was best shared, and so was success.

  19

  Will jumped at the buzz of his phone. He fumbled for it, nearly dropped it, and picked up the call.

  “Dad? What’s the matter?”

  “All good on my end. Just thought I’d call and check you got everything you needed. You rushed out of here so fast yesterday morning.”

  Will glanced at the counter, at the fat packet perched on the edge. “I think so, yeah. I’m just, uh— She sent me straight to voicemail. I’m not sure she got my message.” She’d cleaned her stuff out the previous day, just as they’d planned. She had no reason to come back here...unless him asking was reason enough.

  Dad made a humming sound. “I’d check, if I were her. If I cared half as much about you as you care for her. And from what I’ve seen of her, I think she does.”

  “Then let’s hope she does.” Will straightened the flowers he’d arranged on Serena’s desk, orchids and lilies in soft shades of pink. They’d never actually talked about her favorite flowers, but Serena wore lots of pink—pink sweaters, pink shoes, pink clips in her hair. She’d like these, he thought. Fingers crossed, she’d like these.

  A car door slammed nearby, and Will spun around…then slumped, dispirited, when he saw it wasn’t Serena. Still, his heart raced, and he felt cold all over. He had one chance to fix this, one chance to get it right. Should he just dive right in, or should he feel her out first? He’d been over it in his head so many times since yesterday, imagining what he might say, how she might respond—but with the moment upon him, none of it felt right. None of it felt like enough to make amends for what he’d put her through.

  He realized he was still clutching his phone and tucked it away. He messed with his flowers some more, turning the prettiest blooms so she’d see them first. He reached for the papers he’d picked up at the bank, and that was when the bell jingled. Will froze in place.

  “Will?”

  He turned around and his heart leaped. Relief flooded through him, followed quickly by a jangle of nerves. Serena had come. She’d come and she looked breathtaking, her hair wild and windblown, sparkling with snow. Her cheeks were pink with the cold, her lips strawberry-kissed. She hugged herself, rubbed her arms through her winter coat, and Will resisted the impulse to gather her close.

  “You look cold,” he said instead. “Let me grab you some coffee.”

  Serena shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get this over with.”

  “It’s no worry,” said Will. “I’ve got a pot on already.” He scurried back to his office and stood breathing hard. He’d got off to a rough start, but that was to be expected. He’d wounded Serena deeply, and those wounds were still raw. What mattered now was what he did next.