Page 18 of The Promise Of Rain

I had to give them a chance, but I wouldn’t let them ruin mine.

“You don’t know her,” I pointed out.“You never gave her a chance.”

“Maybe you don’t know her,” he murmured.“There have been rumours of a relationship between her and some married man, never mind the speculation over Ansel Blum.”

“Ansel Blum?”Icy disdain froze the blood in my veins.“Are you kidding me?That man is like a father to her.”

I was engaging the exact way I swore I wouldn’t.

He shook his head.“Son, where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”

I hummed my displeasure low in my chest.“Are we judge and jury, now?What happened to His mercies are new every morning?What happened to He will separate us from our sins as far as the east is from the west?”

“It’s a good sentiment,” he agreed then winced.“It’s how it should be, but the reality is that woman hurt you before and she’ll hurt you again.”

I shook my head.“That’s where you’re wrong, Dad.Turns out, it was me who hurt her.I’ve got a lot to make up for and a lot of ground to cover—”

“You can’t—”

I stood up.“And this time, the only opinion that matters is hers,” I stated firmly.

Though I revered him, I’d always been somewhat at odds with my father.

Where he wanted me to farm the earth, I wanted to fly the skies.

Where he prodded me toward the women in our church, I pursued the one woman I couldn’t live without.

Where he pledged til death do us part, I divorced my wife.

And now I was back, picking up the pieces I unknowingly shattered when I left.

But not knowing didn’t absolve me from the guilt.

I collected my cell phone and keys off the table in the hall.Flipping open my wallet briefly, I glanced at the photo I carried everywhere, a reminder of a better time.

My parents were still sputtering when I walked out, but I didn’t hear a word.I had nothing left to say.

And I refused to be swayed.

I talked a good game, but as I parked my truck across the street from Jenny’s bakery, Buns and Biscuits, I acknowledged to myself it was mostly talk.

Maybe a bit of wishful thinking.

No.

What we had back then was real.

I wanted to believe that.I needed to believe that.

But after everything I’d seen, there were days I struggled to believe in anything.

Fat, white snowflakes floated down from the sky and blanketed my windshield as I sat there in the cold.

When Jenny and I met for dinner at The Loose Moose before Christmas, I swallowed her story, hook, line, and sinker.Since then, I’d had time to consider things more closely.

And I had questions.

If she was innocent, why was she not friendly with Baxter and Maggie?Surely, she’d make sure they knew the truth even if it was just to alleviate their pain?