know what she said but she can’t mean it.” Traci’s voice shook. “They’re gonna put him down, Amy. Don’t you care about Thunder at all?”
“I care. But I can’t stay.”
Amy closed her eyes briefly, her good intentions fading. Now was as good a time as any to tell them. This might be the best opportunity she’d get to break the news.
“I can’t stay any longer than I’d planned because I’ve been offered a management position. It’s one I’ve worked really hard for and I start in January.”
Betty smiled. “That’s wonderful news. Is it with the same insurance company?”
“Yes, but it’s at a new branch.” She licked her lips. “In Michigan.”
Her quiet comment pierced the comfortable companionship at the table and thickened the air around them. The clatter of utensils silenced.
“Michigan?” Betty’s chin quivered and her eyes glistened. “But that’s so far away.”
“It’s not that bad a trip by plane, Mama,” she said gently. “You and Traci can visit as much as you want. I’ll buy the tickets.”
Amy glanced at Traci. Her eyes flooded and tears streamed from her lashes down her cheeks.
“You told me you were moving to a new apartment. Not to a different state.” Traci’s ragged whisper broke the silence at the table.
She rose, pushing back her chair and leaving the room.
“Come on, boys,” Cissy said, pulling the twins’ napkins from their laps and nudging them to their feet. “Time for your bath.”
Kayden scowled. “But we ain’t had no cookies yet. You said we could—”
“I’ll get you some on the way,” Dominic said. He stood, helped Cissy up with a hand on her elbow then took each of the boys’ hands, leading them out of the room.
“Have you thought this through?” Betty asked, fingers clutching the collar of her shirt. “Maybe you need to take some time and decide if it’s really what you want to do.”
“I’m sure, Mama.”
“But...” Betty’s gaze hovered on a red-faced Logan. “What about...?”
“Things have been over for a long time between me and Logan,” Amy whispered. “You know that. It was my fault. I was too young and too much happe—” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat. “It’s time we both moved on.”
The implication fell hard, slamming into the silence and echoing around the room. Betty winced and looked at Pop. A burst of laughter traveled from the guests’ dining room, the sound muffled by the closed door.
“Logan?” Pop frowned, his gaze sharp on his son’s face.
Logan’s jaw clenched. He looked down and slumped back in his chair.
“Excuse me,” Betty whispered, shaking her head and leaving the table.
The sound of her sobs faded with each of her slow steps.
“I’ll just...give you two a minute.” Pop squeezed Logan’s shoulder briefly before he left, too.
Amy stayed silent, flinching at the harsh rasp of Logan’s heavy breaths and staring at the empty chairs. She bit her lip, her teeth digging hard into the soft flesh, and a sharp metallic flavor trickled onto her tongue. Red drops of wine dripped from the tablecloth and plopped onto her leg, the crisp material of her pinstriped pants soggy beneath the stain.
The moment was so familiar. Almost a perfect replica of another meal she’d shared at this table. When she’d announced her pregnancy with gleeful, nineteen-year-old abandon, shocking and saddening those around her. Betty’s tears and Pop’s disapproval had been just as strong. And Logan’s shame just as apparent.
Amy jerked to her feet and headed for the door with unsteady steps. She shouldn’t have told them tonight. It hadn’t been the right time. But she’d done so anyway because it was easiest for her.
Here, she was still the same disruptive girl she’d always been. If she stayed at Raintree, she’d only bring more of the same. Discord and trouble. She should never have come back.
It’d be so easy to let her go. To turn around, trudge to their room—which had been empty of her for so long—and continue with the status quo.
Logan frowned, examining the stiff line of Amy’s back through the window. He clutched the bottle of beer in his hand, the cold wetness seeping into his warm skin. It was Amy’s favorite brand. The only kind she drank. And he’d kept it on hand for four years, fool that he was, having picked it up out of habit during every trip to town.
He’d grabbed the bottle quickly from the fridge minutes earlier, ducking out of the kitchen to the low murmurs of Pop consoling a tearful Betty, then made his way toward the front porch. To do the right thing. To talk to Amy and pick up the pieces. Again.
He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the knot in his upper back. His mind urged him to walk away. It practically screamed at him to go in the opposite direction. Just as it had yesterday morning when he’d sat in his truck debating whether or not to make the trip to bring her home.
But, just like then, something inside propelled him toward her. It burned hot in his chest, searing his hands and making him desperate to hold on. Even though he knew it was a high risk. Amy’s passionate nature had never been predictable and it was even less trustworthy.
He gritted his teeth. Hell if he’d be like Pop and stand in Raintree’s dirt drive watching his wife drive away. Crumple into a weak heap as she left her family behind. He was stronger than that.
Logan looked away, peering past the Christmas lights strung along the porch rail to the dark night beyond. Pop had been little good to himself back when his wife left. Much less to his sons. Ten at the time, Logan hadn’t sat idly by. Instead, he’d picked up the reins of the ranch, hustled through the daily chores and watched out for his wild younger brother, refusing to allow himself to dwell on his mother’s absence or his father’s grief.
His mother had made the decision to leave and Logan had accepted it. It was her loss, not theirs. He just wished his father had seen things the same way. The way Logan should accept Amy’s decision to leave now.
He dropped his gaze, tracing the trails of condensation on the glass bottle. Amy’s movements brought his eyes back to her. She shifted from one ridiculous high heel to the other, leaning down to prop her elbows on the porch rail and wrap her arms around herself with a shiver.
Logan sighed. It was barely above thirty degrees outside and there his stubborn wife stood. Freezing her tail off.
His heart tripped in his chest. His wife. His Amy.
He should leave things alone. Let her go her way and him his, as Traci had urged in the office
