“When they really matter? What could be worse than having your fiancée leave you for someone else?”
“Easy,” he said. “When the someone else is your brother.”
THE SILENCE THAT greeted his announcement went on so long that he started to think she might have choked on her chip. When he finally made himself look—because, yeah, he hadn’t wanted to watch her face while he’d said it—he saw that her mouth was hanging open, her hand on her chest.
Maybe he should have eased into it a bit more gently.
“Oh, Ian.”
Her soft whisper hung between them. She probably needed a minute to process it. After all, it had been two years and he was only now able to talk about it.
“I never...” She huffed out a breath that sounded like equal parts disbelief and indignation. “You don’t need to tell me anything else. I shouldn’t have pushed. But, damn, that was a shitty thing to do.”
Maybe it was because he hadn’t talked about it for so long, but despite her assurance that he didn’t have to say anything, he wanted to explain. “Yeah, well, to give them credit, everybody tried their damnedest to keep it from happening. Taylor even moved to get away from Carter.”
“It was Carter?” Her laugh was short and laced with relief. “Oh, jeez. I knew you had gone to Hank’s wedding, and for a minute there, I thought—”
“Good God, Darce. I’m no martyr.”
“Thank heaven for that. So, she moved?”
“Right. He knew she was leaving, and he agreed. Everybody thought they were doing the right thing, splitting up, trying to keep it from ripping the family apart, but then Moxie put things together. From what I hear, she practically had to push Carter onto the plane herself.”
“Wait a minute. They betrayed you, and then your own grandmother— Holy crap.”
Everyone in his family had been a wreck. After all, no matter how it played out, one brother was going to end up hurt. But Darcy was the first one focused solely on him. Hearing the indignation in her voice, seeing the way her usually fluid movements were now tight and choppy—well, it was more of a comfort than he would have expected.
“Moxie was right. Not that I was a big fan of the idea when it happened, but... She said it would be worse if Carter and Taylor tried to pretend nothing had happened. Something about resentments building up.” He shrugged. “It hurt like hell, but she had a point. Once the truth was out we knew what we were dealing with.”
“Well, it must have helped to know that it couldn’t possibly get any crappier.”
“Yeah, there was that.”
She leaned back, arms crossed, watching him. “So if Taylor moved and Carter went after her, why are you living in Stratford now instead of in Comeback Cove, where you could have had the support of your family? How did you end up being the sacrificial lamb?”
“Breathe. It was my idea.”
“So much for your ‘I’m no martyr’ line.” She sat up straighter, eyes flashing. “That sucks. As does your family for letting you go.”
She wasn’t saying anything that he hadn’t thought to himself at some point. Funny, though, how much different it felt coming from her.
“Carter and Taylor said they would leave, but remember, we all worked in the family business. I had to think of what was best for Northstar Dairy, too. I had already been gone for almost a year. Everyone was used to that. It made sense for me to be the one to move. Plus,” he added, just to prove he was no candidate for sainthood, “Comeback Cove is a small town. My choices were to stay and be stared at or let them stay and, well—”
“Be the hottest gossip in decades?”
“That’s about it.”
“Good for you.”
“I’m not sure that I should be congratulated for it,” he said. “But it seemed like the best choice at the time.”
“So you decided to move, and you picked Stratford.”
“More like Helene told Moxie about you needing a tenant, and it was far enough from home that I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew, and I was up for anything that didn’t require me to do a whole lot of thinking.”
“And here I thought you chose it because you wanted to walk the streets where Justin Bieber grew up.”
Ah, the Sass Queen was back.
“So,” she said after a moment. “That explains why you haven’t gone home much since you moved in.”
“Yeah.”
“Once in two years, unless I’ve forgotten something.”
He glanced sideways. “Your point, Darce?”
“Well, I couldn’t help but wonder why you’re going back now.”
The truth sat heavy in his gut. Part of him longed to tell her about the charitable foundation Moxie was adding to the dairy—the foundation she wanted him to lead, if he could handle being home. If Xander hadn’t reappeared he might have said something, but Darcy had had enough shockers for one day.
Besides, nothing was definite. What was the point of worrying her when he wasn’t even sure himself if he could do this?
“It’s time,” he said at last. “I don’t want one piece of my past to take over the rest of my life.”
“Very wise.”
“Plus, it’s Father’s Day, and my mom is throwing a big thing for my dad. I don’t want to hurt him by being the only one of his kids to not show up.”
“Did it ever occur to you that the only reason your mom is doing this is to force you to come home?”
“Of course it is. Ma hates hoopla. You know how she spends Mother’s Day?”
“How?”
“She goes to church, then goes back to bed and spends the whole day there, alone. She reads. She naps. She orders pizza for dinner. It’s been like that since we were kids.”
“Oh, my God, seriously? That sounds like the best Mother’s Day ever. What a smart woman.”
“A smart, overworked woman who needed a break.” Much like the one swaying softly in the hammock across from him.
“Someday I’m going to do that. It sounds like bliss.” Her voice switched from wistful to practical in the space of one quick sigh. “But anyway. You. You think you’re ready for this?”
“It’s been two years.”
“I can do math, North. I didn’t ask you how long it had been. I asked if you’re ready.”
Correction: a smart, overworked, stubborn woman. “I think so.” Especially when sitting on a porch with the setting sun wrapping them in shadows, surrounded by Darcy’s laugh and her fierce concern and—yeah—that damned pink top that dipped a little lower than she probably realized.
Taylor was a very distant memory when he was with Darcy.
“I think I’m ready,” he said. “But there’s only one way to find out for sure.”
“You blacksmiths. Always shoving things into fires.”
“I’m not planning any long heartfelt talks with either Carter or Taylor, if that’s what you mean. I’ll settle for being in the same room without going bat-shit crazy.”
“I’ll