Brant's Return

“I didn’t know until recently.” I shrugged. “Anyway, they’re not close, but Mr. Talbot doesn’t have anyone else to leave Graystone Hill to, so I assume it will go to him. What he’ll do with it, I have no idea.” Truth be told, I didn’t want to think about that. What if he sold it to someone who didn’t want to continue operations as is? What if he sold it to someone who brought in all of their own people and dismissed the staff that worked there now? Me. A cold, sinking feeling settled in my stomach. “I might have to take you up on that offer you made of a job at the company,” I said, and even I could hear the despondency in my own tone.

Paige flashed me a worried look, but then her expression turned more troubled as she raised her wine glass to her lips and took a quick sip. She glanced at her husband, Aaron, flipping burgers at the grill. I watched her for a second. “Is everything okay?”

Paige sighed. “Yeah. It’s just . . . the company is struggling a little bit. Ever since Ethan—” She shot me a look of chagrin, patting my hand again. “Well, that’s nothing you need to be concerned with.”

“Paige, if you’re worried about something, I’m here to listen. It’s about all I have to offer”—I gave her a small smile—“but sometimes that helps.” There was once a time when the investment firm my husband, Ethan, and Aaron had run together was lucrative, but Ethan had put his share of the profit back into the business. When he died, there had been a grand total of six thousand, three hundred fifty-seven dollars and forty-three cents in our combined checking and savings accounts. Of course, he couldn’t have known that he’d leave me that way . . . At the thought of Ethan, I brought my hand to my chest unconsciously fiddling with the silver key I wore around my neck.

“Do you realize you touch that necklace every time you talk about Ethan?” she asked, a sad smile on her lips. “Something he gave you?”

I dropped my hand. “No. Actually, it’s a key. I found it in the pocket of the coat he’d been wearing the day he died.” The one he’d casually flung over a chair in the kitchen when he’d arrived home. It had annoyed me and I’d removed it and hung it in the hall closet before returning to the dinner waiting on the table. It was the last thing I’d done before my world exploded. I paused, my mind returning to the day a month later when I’d re-entered our home . . . the home that had become a crime scene. I’d been numb, barely hanging on. Paige had offered to be with me, but I’d needed to do it alone, needed to fall to my knees and wail in the quiet of my now empty house. My now empty world. I grimaced slightly, the memory still bringing a harsh beat of anguish. I’d begun clearing the hall closet—one task, you can complete one task, I’d told myself. When I’d removed the coat, that single silver key had fallen into my open palm.

“Really?” Paige asked, both concern and surprise lacing her tone. “You never told me about it.”

I gave my head a shake. “I don’t know what it’s for. There was no indication and the logo on it is so faded . . .”

“Can I see? Maybe I’ll recognize it.”

I brought the key from the bodice of my dress and leaned toward her as she took the key between her fingers. Her brow furrowed as she studied it. “It’s so faded,” she murmured. “Is that . . . two horses with their necks crossing?” She squinted. “One in front of the other?”

“I think so. But I’ve looked into every horse racing facility in the area . . . every club . . .” I shrugged. “If it was anything important, I suppose I’ll never know. I looked through all Ethan’s papers, but I couldn’t find a thing that would indicate what it went to.” If my dead husband had secrets, I’d never find out what they were. And perhaps it was better that way.

“It was probably something old that even Ethan had forgotten about.” She tilted her head, placing her hand on my shoulder, a gesture of comfort. “But why do you wear it, honey? If you’re not sure what it is . . .”

I bit at my lip for a brief moment before sighing. “Truthfully, I don’t know. I picked up the key again, rubbing it between my fingers. “I guess it makes me feel close to him.” I offered her a tremulous smile and she gave one back, squeezing my shoulder gently before dropping her hand.

I took a sip of my iced tea and when I looked up at her, she was staring in her own husband’s direction. For a moment, an unreadable expression passed over her pretty face. She sighed sort of sadly, glancing around the yard at the other partygoers. “Hey, is everything okay with you and Aaron, I mean, other than business concerns?”

“It will be,” she said with a smile that didn’t look very convincing. “It’s just, we might have to sell the house and . . . well, it’s a little bit of a stressful time.”

“Oh, Paige, I’m so sorry to hear that.” I felt helpless. She’d been a good friend to me over the last three years, even when I’d been struggling terribly. As a matter of fact, we’d become closer since Ethan had died. I hadn’t known her all that well before then, but in the aftermath of my tragedy, she’d done everything she could to be a support. I wished I could offer her more than a shoulder to lean on. But before I could ask anything else, she turned to me, smiling brightly, the shadows that had been in her expression a moment before suddenly gone. “We’ll be fine. Things will work out somehow. Anyway, enough about me. How are you doing?”

I sighed, looking off into the distance for a moment before meeting my friend’s eyes again. “More good days than bad.” My eyes lingered on a little girl with a blonde ponytail standing by a table laden with dishes of food. She was holding a triangle of watermelon, and as she bit into it, a drip of juice slid down her dimpled chin. My heart beat hollowly. The truth was, there would always be situations, sights, memories, that caused a piercing stab of pain. In fact, Mr. Talbot’s sickness—the feelings and questions the situation elicited—tore at the wounds I carried inside. Wounds that would never fully heal. But there was also a certain . . . relief in knowing that in this instance, I’d get to say goodbye. I would be a vital part of ensuring his last days were filled with peace, with love, and with comfort.

What you do with the information is up to you.

I cringed internally. Maybe making that phone call to his son had been misguided on my part. Perhaps if Mr. Talbot found out, he’d have my hide. But . . . I’d thought it was worth the risk. To not get to say goodbye . . . to never get the chance to say I love you one last time. Everyone deserved a chance to make amends when the time to do so was dwindling . . . didn’t they?

Yes, they did. Even a cold stranger whose voice dripped with presumption and self-importance. Even him. Who knew the value of goodbye better than I did?

“I’m glad to hear you’re having more good days now,” Paige said. “Those horses still got you by the heartstrings?”

Horses. At the word, the thought of those gentle, intelligent creatures, my heart warmed, lips tipping into a smile. “Oh yes,” I breathed. “The best part is working with the trainers. It’s . . . wonderful. They’re wonderful.”

“The horses or the trainers?” She raised her brows up and down, causing me to laugh.

“I was referring to the horses, but the trainers are nice too.”

“No cute cowboys at Graystone Hill, huh?”

“No. I’m not . . . ready for any of that yet anyway.”

“You will be, honey. Someday soon.”

“Maybe,” I murmured, shooting Paige a smile. “Anyway, for now, four-legged boys are the only ones I need.”

**********

I stayed at Paige and Aaron’s house for another hour or so, finally bidding them goodbye and heading home. I was glad I’d forced myself to get out and be around other people, to spend time with a friend. It was good for the soul, a reminder that I still had a life to live, was capable of laughter and lightness. Even still.