Find Wonder in All Things - By Karen M. Cox Page 0,40

to change her mind or at least make her see what she was giving up. He gentled his voice and tried again. “I know it’s a big step, darling, but it will work — I know it.” He sat on the desk and covered her hand with his, trying to intertwine their fingers.

“I know you believe that, but it’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it — ”

“No,” she interrupted him, “it’s not.” She jerked her hand back and folded her arms protectively across her chest. “Have you considered that me tagging along is not in your best interest either?”

“How can you say that? How could being without you ever be in my best interest? I love you. What could be more important than that? And you love me.”

She said nothing.

“Don’t you?”

Her face was frozen in place. An icy cold wind whipped around his heart in spite of the hot, July day. He waited a long minute. “I see.”

She swallowed hard.

“Yes, I see now. Apparently, I’ve made a huge mistake coming here. In fact, I’ve made a complete ass of myself.” He shot her a withering look and turned his back on her as he put his hand on the doorknob. He looked over his shoulder. “But you’ve made a mistake too, Laurel Elliot,” he said darkly, “and you’ll regret it. I promise you that.” He threw open the door and strode out.

Mr. Elliot followed him outside to the dock and called after him. “What did you say to my daughter, Marshall? She looks upset.”

James turned around, anger radiating from every pore in his skin. “You’re killing her spirit, you know, persuading her to stay here so she can be near you. It’s pure selfishness on your part. You’re keeping an exotic bird in a cage and expecting it to stay beautiful and brilliant. I’m telling you, it won’t work. She’ll end up a shadow of what she could have been. Sir.” The last word was smothered in sarcasm.

“And I suppose you’re the one who can save her from a horrible fate out here in the sticks,” Mr. Elliot said, his face contorted in anger. “I know your type. You’re a materialistic hothead, and you’d be the ruin of her. You’re all big plans and dreams, but you’re doing nothing but working a day job at a bottling plant. Go out and find your life, such as it is. Leave my daughter alone to find hers. She’s made her decision.”

“She made that perfectly clear. Good-bye, Mr. Elliot. Rest assured you won’t see me around here ever again.”

After that, James hardly knew how he made it to his car. He barely remembered any of the drive back to Nashville, except for thinking that then he knew what a broken heart felt like.

* * *

After Laurel cut him loose, he coped by forcing himself to think only of the future, and it had been effective. He threw himself into learning more about music. He went to college in California. Now, more than seven years later, James had constructed a new life for himself. A life that had taken twists and turns he never expected. He had embarked on more than one new adventure, striking out on his own time and again, and he had done well — succeeding beyond his wildest dreams — and Laurel had missed out on all of it.

He sighed and put the sketch back on the desk. It was beautiful work, and James was an artist of sorts too. He couldn’t bear to throw it away.

The doorbell rang. He turned his back on the picture, and went to answer it. Eric was jogging in place.

“Come on, big guy. Let’s pound some pavement.”

James rolled his eyes even though he returned Eric’s grin. They set off at a brisk pace, but after a while, James had trouble keeping up. His friend stole a look over at him.

“We’ll go through the park, and then we can turn back toward home. You doing okay, buddy? You seem a little sluggish today.”

“I’m just fine, Mom. I like a run in the morning,” he wheezed. “It clears my head.”

“Let’s walk a little and catch a breather.” Eric didn’t wait more than a minute before he dropped his latest bombshell.

“Laurel Elliot.”

“What about her, Eric?” James was immediately wary.

“She doesn’t have 2.3 kids, and she’s not married. Don’t know about the minivan though.”

“What?” James stopped, staring at his friend.

Eric stopped too and turned back, breathing hard from running. “She’s still in Kentucky — some place called Uppercross Hollow.”

“How do

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