April reached out and put a hand on my arm. “Talk to him. It’s not going to do any good to sit around worrying about what he might or might not say. You’re done being scared, remember?”
“Right.” I nodded defiantly, recalling what I’d just said to Noah last night about his mom. “If I want to be happy, I can’t choose fear over love.”
“Do you love him?” Sylvia asked.
I didn’t have to think twice. “I’ve always loved him,” I said. “I don’t know why it’s taken me this long to say it.”
Later, I took a jog around the farm, nothing too strenuous—my body was exhausted from the lack of sleep—to give myself a chance to think everything over. I knew how I felt about Noah, but before making any life-changing decisions, I wanted to take some time alone to really consider the consequences of what I was about to do, the risks involved, the possibilities.
If I quit my job and moved back, what would I do? Where would I live? How would this thing with Noah play out?
Before I made any permanent decisions, did I need to hear him say he was open to a future together? For me, that meant marriage and kids. I wanted a family. Would I upend my life with that issue up in the air?
I knew I couldn’t force him to make promises at this point. After less than one week together, it would be ludicrous of me to expect his mind to change so quickly. And it wasn’t like he’d been wishy-washy on the matter. It was a firm no way, no how, and he had reasons to back it up. Even if I disagreed with his reasons and thought he was just being stubborn and scared, I wasn’t going to get anywhere by arguing with him.
Would more time together make him change his mind? What if it didn’t? What if I moved back and fell deeper in love with him only to be brokenhearted in the end?
I reached the edge of the creek that ran through the woods at the back of my family’s property and sank onto my butt for a rest. My heart rate was a little too high to turn around and run right back, and I wasn’t that anxious to be around people anyway.
The creek was pretty low but still moving, and I watched the water rush over the stones and thought again about Noah’s refusal to believe he was capable of being a good husband and father.
It was crazy to me. What was a good husband and father if not someone devoted to loving and protecting his family? How could Noah think he wasn’t that man? Sure, his ex had done a number on him, and maybe he struggled to trust after that, but this was me. He knew he could trust me to accept him, family and all. I’d never be so demanding he had to feel guilty about disappointing me here and there when his family needed him.
As for his being a cop, I loved that about him. I couldn’t think of a more perfect job for Noah, and I truly believed he’d make an awesome sheriff, as good as his father had been. If I moved here, I could help him with his campaign. He’d never need to worry that I wouldn’t understand when his job had to come first. Maybe I couldn’t promise I’d never get frustrated by it, but I could promise that I knew what it meant to him to serve and protect no matter the cost. His parents had made it work—we could too. I fell back onto the mossy ground and looked at the sky above the tops of the birch and maple and evergreen trees, imagining a life together for us.
Of course, I knew Asher would be part of that life. Someday he’d live with Noah full time, and I had to be willing to accept that. When Mrs. McCormick traveled or got older or wasn’t around anymore, Asher’s care would fall to Noah. He wanted it that way, and I admired him for it.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a family of his own—if he wanted one. He said he didn’t, but was it true? Or was that the guilt talking? Maybe deep down, he did want children, but fatherhood would be yet another thing that came easily to him that his brother couldn’t experience. Maybe he was denying himself the opportunity because he didn’t think