lost after her father’s arrest, but she had been the one she missed the most. Not that it had been Rachel’s fault. Rachel had had her own problems to deal with, and Meredith hadn’t wanted to burden her with hers. Besides, she’d had Hunter to lean on. Or so she had thought.
She turned to ask Hunter about Rachel, but when she glanced over at his profile, carved against the stark landscape, the words wouldn’t come. She didn’t want to engage with him as if they were old friends. They weren’t. He had broken her heart and while seven years may have passed since then, the hurt had not healed. She’d thought it had, but returning to Salvation Falls and seeing him in the flesh had torn the wound open once again. She didn’t want to ask him about Rachel. What she really wanted to do was beat on his chest in anger and ask him why. Why had he done it?
Pride stayed her tongue.
By the time they reached his office, the silence had stretched to an uncomfortable tension. He walked up the steps in front of her and rested his hand on the door handle. He stopped and faced her, his body barring her way.
“I wish you’d reconsider.”
“Reconsider?”
“About staying. Settling here. Trying to change the past. Your pa is gone, Meredith, and I’m right sorry about that. I know how much you loved him. But digging all of this up again? It’s just going to cause you more pain. Maybe you should think about going back to Boston.”
The wound opened a little wider. It hurt her heart to think of how broken things had become. Once they had shared something beautiful, something that filled every part of her. She had believed it would last forever, was certain he shared the same feelings. She’d been wrong. All these years later and he still didn’t want the reminder of her. Of the mistake he’d made.
“Boston is not my home. It never was. There’s nothing left for me there.”
“There’s nothing left for you here either.” His stern voice burned across her skin.
Aunt Erma had promised her broken hearts healed, but what she hadn’t told her was that when the pieces were stitched back together they would no longer fit properly. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but seeing Hunter now she understood it to be true. With each beat of her heart, the hurt pulsed deep and unforgiving, reminding her of everything she’d lost. If she’d ever really had it in the first place.
“This is my home.” She fought to keep her voice steady. “And my father deserves to rest easy in his grave knowing his name has been cleared of any wrong-doing. Wouldn’t you do the same if it was your father?”
He didn’t answer, but his expression tightened. “Then you’re determined to stay?”
She walked up the stairs and stopped in front of him. Being this close was dangerous. The heat in her body rose to the surface and she could feel her skin tingle. A deep longing coaxed her to move closer, to give in to her body’s craving to have him hold her. Would he? She shook the question off, irritated with her thoughts, the way they kept circling back to him. He was her past, and while she may need to deal with him in her present, he had no place in her future. He’d made his feelings on that matter perfectly clear.
“I am staying and I’m proving my father’s innocence. Now, I would appreciate it if you would step aside and let me pass.”
He ignored her request. “I don’t see the point in what you’re doing. Your pa is gone. It isn’t going to matter to him what people think.”
“It matters to me. I don’t expect you to understand.” His family had wealth, privilege and a good name. What had he ever struggled for?
Hunter hung his head and let out a slow breath. When he looked back up, myriad emotions warred in his dark eyes. She’d lost herself in those eyes once and the pull of them had not lessened over time.
“It isn’t that I don’t understand.” His voice softened and only increased the potency. She struggled against it, against the small voice that longed for what he said to be true, the sense that she wasn’t alone in this. “I know you loved your pa. I know you want to clear his name. I just don’t want to see you get hurt—”
His words broke the spell his voice wound around her. What did he know of hurt? He had used her and tossed her aside, cutting her so deep the gash refused to heal.
“You weren’t concerned with hurting me when you told me I wasn’t good enough to be a Donovan.”
The harsh words he’d said had carved themselves into her heart, imprinted on her soul. They had shared one passionate night together. She spent one glorious week dreaming of the life they would have together as man and wife, a much-needed respite of happiness as she struggled to come to terms with her father’s sentence. It had given her something to hang on to when everything else had turned dark.
But it had all been a lie. What she had given him meant nothing. She had meant nothing. No. Worse—she was nothing. Not to him.
The last image she had of Salvation Falls was seeing him walk away from her before the stagecoach had even pulled away from the livery station. He hadn’t said goodbye, hadn’t wished her well. Hadn’t changed his mind and told her it was all a cruel joke.
“Meredith, I never meant—”
“No.” She sliced her hand through the air and cut off the rest of his words. She couldn’t bear to hear them. And what could he say? That he’d never meant to say he loved her in the first place? That he shouldn’t have led her on and made promises he had no intentions of keeping? “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Except that it did. And she hated that fact more than all the others.
She pulled her shoulders back and took a deep breath. “I have no desire to relive the past or stand here discussing it with you. If you never planned on marrying me, you should have never taken things as far as you did. Now we both have to live with the consequences. I’m sorry we have to deal with each other now, but there’s little to be done about it. You can rest assured, however, once I prove my father’s innocence we need not bother with each other ever again save for a polite nod if we pass on the street. Now please, step aside.”
The idea saddened her. Despite everything, the hurt, the anger, the betrayal. Maybe that had something to do with the wrongness of the way her heart had pieced itself back together. She didn’t know. But she couldn’t worry about it now. Now she had to focus on what she’d come here to do.
Hunter looked as if he wanted to say something else, but whatever it was hovered unspoken in the silence left between them and in the end, he did as she asked and opened the door, stepping to one side to let her pass.
Hunter kept silent as she passed, wishing he could tell her the truth, but what good would it do them now? So much water had passed under their bridge it was a wonder they hadn’t drowned in the overflow. Would she care that the reason he had walked away from the stage before she even pulled out of the station was because he couldn’t stand the thought of watching her leave? Knowing it was happening had been bad enough, witnessing it was something else entirely.
He knew without a doubt if he’d had to stand there and watch her leave, he would have hauled her off that stage without a
