Change Rein - Anne Jolin Page 0,49
Willow Bay. He hadn’t popped up in weeks on any of the authorities’ radars, so we assumed he’d just let it go. I’m so sorry. You should hate me.”
My brain’s a little sluggish from the painkillers, but even so, I don’t hate him. I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that he knew about me and sought me out on purpose. Is it weird and extreme? Sure. But that doesn’t negate the fact that I still fell in love with him by my own free will. He didn’t force me, and he isn’t, despite what he may think, a bad person.
“Branson, come here,” I whisper, tapping the empty space beside me.
His hesitation hurts my heart, but eventually, he comes.
“Look at me,” I lift his chin with my hand and trace the stubble along the lines of his jaw. “We are not the mistakes we make, nor the things we fear, and most certainly not the things we bleed for.” I lose a single tear, as does he. “Fate, and a little help from you,”—I wink—“brought us together, and Momma said, ‘When fate brings you your person, its job is done and it’s on you to keep them.’ So you can try runnin,’ or whatever other absurdities are in that handsome head of yours, or you can save us both a lot of trouble and heartache by just stayin’ put.”
His words drip with uncertainty. “How can you forgive me for this?”
“Do I wish you’d told me about everything before now? Yes. Not because it means I would have handled anything differently, but because we are always stronger together than we are apart, Branson. Regardless, we will handle it from here on out as a team. Whatever that looks like, I’m with you.” I pull him towards me by the back of his neck. “I forgive you. Do you understand me?”
He nods.
“That forgiveness has nothing to do with being earned. It’s on me to give, and that’s my choice. You don’t need to be my hero. I don’t need one. You’re more than that. You’re it for me, Tucker. Don’t you get that? You’re my second chance. It doesn’t matter if I can’t compete again for the rest of my life because you’re the only gold medal I want.”
When he crashes his lips against mine, his suffering and his joy melt into me as the passion of our kiss heals the wounds we’ve earned.
“You’re it for me too, London.” He pulls away, resting his forehead on mine. “Even when you’re cheesy.”
“You did not just call me cheesy!” I exclaim, slapping his arm.
Running his thumb over my bottom lip, he grins. “I like it.”
“You better.”
“I’ve got to go make some calls. I’ll send your family back in, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper.
After standing up, he kisses me softly on the lips. “Whatever I did to deserve you, I don’t know and I don’t care. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
As he moves towards the door, a smile spreads on my face.
“Hey, cowboy?”
“Yeah, angel?” He pauses at the doorway.
“You’re gonna owe my daddy a barn.”
The sound of his laughter fills both the room and my heart. “You got it, babe.”
You don’t know when the love you’ve been waiting for will come your way, but when it does, you’d be wise to remember that you aren’t perfect, and neither are they. Forgive, do your best, and when things need a little more fixin’ than that, you’d best change rein.
AUTHORITIES CAUGHT FRANCIS LATER THAT same day on a Greyhound bound for nowhere after Branson had offered a handsome reward for anyone with information on his whereabouts. They were able to issue a warrant for his arrest when the fingerprints lifted from the Tucker Farms lock used to chain the side door closed came back as a match to his.
Francis cooperated with the police for a lesser sentence and pled guilty to arson. The investigation and his statement informed us that he’d used rags soaked in gasoline to start the fire and positioned them around the barn where he’d suspected they’d do the most damage. The fire investigators said we were lucky. Francis knew very little about what he was doing and didn’t leave himself enough time to chain the front doors of the barn shut. They found a matching chain and lock in the driveway, but he’d had enough self-preservation instincts to flee before getting caught.
Are we lucky? I suppose so.
Two months later, in the chilly winter air, my family broke champagne over the front doors