He leaves Georgie’s ten minutes later, a six-pack of soda and a loaf of bread in hand. It seems the entire town knows what he said, judging by the knowing looks from the old men and the tittering from the women. Even the children seem to know something has happened.
He wonders if Rett has heard yet. What she thinks of the declaration, if she has. He knows she’ll be angry, and he’ll love it. She’s cute when she’s mad. Her cheeks always turned a furious red, her lips pressing together in a scowl, and her fingers carded repeatedly through her thick hair. Her gray eyes darkened with storms—a violent sky turning cold and vicious. He’d always kissed her until she was giggling, breathless and no longer wearing her rage on her face.
He can’t do that now. That’s her fiancé’s job. Calum glowers at the ground beneath his boots.
His skin prickles, and he looks up to see Rett standing across the street. Her glare sends pinpricks through him, and she turns pointedly away. He stifles a chuckle when she ducks into thehardware store. There’s nothing she can possibly need in there, but she’ll stay there until he’s gone.
Calum has mercy on her. He walks away only a moment after she has disappeared into the depths of the store.
Maybe she can use it as proof of how much he cares about her.
She should know that were she anyone else, he would have stood rooted in place just to prove a point.
Rett is worth not being petty.
Four days pass molasses-slow, thick with heat and tension. The entire town has waited with bated breath for any sort of confrontation, any sort of reunion. Something to break up the monotony of small-town living. Unfortunately for them, Calum has always enjoyed his privacy—or what little he can get in this place. Rett is the only one who’s ever seen every part of who he is—who hetrulyis—and he wants to keep it that way.
He wakes before dawn on the fifth day, unable to sleep any longer. Yawning until his jaw pops, Calum slips out of bed and stumbles to the kitchen. He fills the coffeemaker with water and the basket with grounds, then heads back to his bedroom to dress while the machine does its job. The aroma of coffee floods the air when he’s finished, and he quickly pours a mug before stepping out onto the porch.
A heavy sort of moisture hangs over the woods. Rustling comes from across the clearing; dark silhouettes move just past the tree line. Calum grins as the fawn follows its mother on stick-thin legs. Birds are stirring in their nests, chirps and songs replacing the hoots of owls. He sips at his coffee and closes his eyes, breathes in the scent of home.
He never knew just how much a person could feel like they belong somewhere until he came to Oak Creek. Until he met Rett.
Rett, who’d taken to sitting on Mrs. Murdoch’s porch two days ago, as if she’d known Calum wouldn’t dare risk antagonizingthe old woman. She wasn’t wrong; he’d been on the receiving end of the woman’s tirades one too many times, and he has no desire to relive it as an adult.
Yesterday, he barely turned the corner onto Pine Street when Mrs. Murdoch shouted for him to take his troublesome self where he was wanted. Even Rett winced at the words, but she hadn’t moved from the porch swing. So Calum did the only thing he could do: He’d walked away with his heart at his feet.
It is still a fear of his, that he is truly unwanted. After all, his father ran from the family, and his mother had shipped him off to live with his aunt and uncle. Calum can’t blame her, of course. He had pushed her to her wit’s end. He was an awful kid, one who refused to change, so she forced him from their home—away from his siblings—and to Oak Creek.
Meeting Rett had made being sent away worth it, but even she left him behind.
Shaking his head, Calum swallows another mouthful of coffee and plans out his Friday. He has work; the parts for the Mustang should come in this afternoon. Then he’ll spend an hour helping at Georgie’s corner store for something to do. After that, he’ll find himself on a stool at the bar, drinking away the hours until Rett leaves again. Maybe then he can try to start forgetting about her in a way he hasn’t before.
His thoughts, unfortunately, don’t listen to his logic. Rett isn’t his, but damn it if his heart doesn’t wish for it. He wonders as he works on the car, what Rett is doing now. Is she still on Mrs. Murdoch’s porch without him around? Or is she taking the chance to visit the people she used to know and love?
And what has Mrs. Murdoch told Rett of the past seven years? Calum is certain none of it is positive. The woman is absolutely gleefully evil.
The sun still beats hot and steady on the world by the time Calum comes to a stop in the clearing, shutting off theengine. The clock reads six-forty-six, and he stares through the flickering sunlight pouring through the tree canopies. The river lies just beyond the copse. It would be so easy to make his way through the maze of towering oaks until he reaches the familiar banks where he’d spent so much of his time.
A splotch of color sits at the base of the tree when Calum steps out of the woods. He stares for a moment then makes his way across the uneven ground. Rett doesn’t look away from the lazy, burbling water even as he lowers himself to sit beside her. The fact it isn’t a surprise to see her is a surprise in itself. He supposes a small part of him knew—hoped—she would come. Blowing out a breath, he pulls the pack of cigarettes from his pocket.
Lighting up isn’t routine anymore. He only smokes when stressed, and ‘stressed’ is an understatement for his emotional state over the last week. Rett’s fingers twitch in her lap, tremble when she reaches for the cigarette, and Calum lets her take it. Her cough echoes in the quiet, then she leans over to spit on the ground beside her. His lips quirk, the smallest of smiles breaking free.
They sit in silence, sharing the cigarette and warm sunlight glinting off the river, before she rises to her feet. Her hand hovers over his shoulder, but she doesn’t touch. Instead, her fingers close into a fist. Her footsteps crackle and crunch over the twigs. Calum turns his head to watch her walk away. Though she disappears into the dim woods without looking back, he knows.
No matter what she says, she still loves him.
nineteen
Rett
RETT KNOWS SHE SHOULD never have gone to the woods. Never sat in their spot by the river. She certainly should never have shared a cigarette with Calum as if they were eighteen again. She hasn’t smoked since she left Oak Creek, yet there she was, sitting next to her ex-husband, smoking like she never left him.
Ex-husband.
She never thought that would be a term that would apply to her. Ex-husbands are for other women. She had thought—been so certain—that her marriage would be forever. She’d thought wrong, and now she is kicking herself for it. It isn’t fair, really, that Calum is doing what he’s doing. All she’s asked for is his signature. That’s all.
She will even give back the ring if he wants it.
