The Son & His Hope (The Ribbon Duet 3)

My virginity was his.

But in the end, Michael took it.

It’d been the perfect end to my desire for Jacob.

Michael hired a hotel room, took me dancing, and booked in a day spa where we were pampered and relaxed until we fell together sleepily, softly in an over-pillowed bed and made love for the first time.

Not rough. Not explosive. Not crazed.

Just sweet and beautiful…just like my dark-haired, blue-eyed boy who’d played a cadaver.

Scrunching the covers up to my chin, I sighed in the darkness, looking over to that sweet, beautiful blue-eyed boy. His face was soft and slumbering. His forehead smooth. At twenty-five, Michael was the same age Jacob would be, yet he seemed so much younger.

Even at seventeen, Jacob had seemed more man than a lot of kids that age. He had the weight of acreage and seasons pressing on him to be responsible and reliable.

Michael didn’t have that type of pressure, which left him unruffled around the edges. He stayed in work with small TV parts here and there, but he wasn’t well off. But that didn’t matter because he was good to me.

I genuinely liked him.

A lot.

Cared deeply enough that we’d been going strong for a year, and most nights I spent at his one-bedroom apartment above a fish and chip shop. The English accents of people placing orders and the fried aroma of their dinner drifted through his window; a quintessential part to the new life I now led.

Staying with him was convenient as I hadn’t put down roots of my own. I missed Cherry River’s depthless peace with every fibre of my body, which stopped me from finding my own home.

On the nights where I missed the farm that was never mine, tears leaked silently in the dark, and I’d have to remind myself all over again that I was with a wonderful guy. I had a great job. I was set for life.

I was unbelievably lucky.

Eventually, I would buy my own piece of paradise. I would live a new dream somewhere else. With someone else.

With Michael?

I didn’t know and that was what made guilt a constant companion.

Snuggling deeper into my pillows, I closed my eyes and did my best to fall asleep.

Michael rolled over, pulling the covers from my legs.

Ugh, I give up.

Sitting up, I slid from the sheets and reached for my phone. Carrying it into the small lounge in my purple pyjamas, I sat on the couch, pulled a fluffy blanket over me, and tapped the screen.

The device instantly lit up as if it’d been waiting impatiently.

I turned my sound off at night so I wouldn’t be disturbed.

I really shouldn’t have.

Three missed calls.

All from Cassie.

“Oh, no.” My hands shook as I punched in the number for Cherry River. I bit my lip as it connected, ringing on the other phone. There was something fundamentally wrong about calling someone at four a.m., but this was an emergency.

This was life or death.

“Hello?” Cassie mumbled.

“Are you okay? Is John okay?” I blurted. “Do you need anything? What about Nina or Chip? I can fly over right away if you need—”

“Whoa, Hope. Slow down.” Her voice lost its fuzziness. “I called you three hours ago. I figured you might still be up writing.”

Ever since leaving Cherry River, my morning routines had become more like night owl habits and bedtime was late. Sometimes, I’d be going to bed at the same time Jacob would wake to go to work.

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to do with my excess adrenaline. “So, you’re saying everything is fine?” My stupid heart wouldn’t calm down, racing, racing, racing. “Everyone is okay.”

Cassie took her time replying. “You could say that.”

“You said that weird.”

She laughed softly. “Can’t get anything past you, huh?”

“What is it? Why did you call me three times?”

“I heard from Jacob.”

I bolted upright on the couch. The blanket tumbled from my legs to the carpet. “You did?”

“He sent us a letter.”

“Wh-where is he?” I couldn’t swallow. My throat closed up. It wasn’t the first letter he’d sent. He wasn’t totally heartless to leave his family without a goodbye or a heads-up that he was still alive. There hadn’t been many—four in total. But at least he still thought about his aunt, uncle, and grandfather, even if he didn’t think of me.

“He’s in Indonesia.”

“Indonesia? What on earth is he doing there?”

Cassie sighed. “Wandering.”

“Do you have an address?” I plucked the cotton of my pyjamas. The other letters didn’t have return addresses. He’d been in Thailand for one of them and New Zealand for another, followed by Australia and Finland. He’d travelled the world all while I wondered if he was okay.

“The envelope is from some cheap hotel stationery with their address printed on. I don’t know if he’s staying there or just used it passing through. But…it’s the first concrete location we’ve had.” Her voice dropped, rustling sounded as if she was leaving the bedroom so as not to disturb Chip. “Look, I can’t leave. My horse business can’t be run by just anyone. I need to oversee the contractors, and the recent rescues we’ve taken in are a handful.”