(Carson's POV)
I knocked on Joni's door, holding a plate of spaghetti in my hand.
I waited for the 'come in, Dad', got utter silence instead.
"I'm coming in"
I walked inside.
She was lying on her bed, her back to me.
I set the plate on her nightstand. "Dinner's ready if you want it."
Silence. Not even a single word for my effort.
Since Lilliana died, it's been a learning curve trying to do what was best for them. She was the parent who had the answers to all the questions. I was the parent who made sure we had food on the table.
Now, I was both.
I sat on the edge of her bed, trying to find the words to reach her. I mean, how do one talk to s thirteen year old?!
Gently, I pushed her hair back from her cheek. She was my child... I should be able to reach her.
"Why the attitude, kiddo?" I asked softly.
That's when I felt the shudder. I realized she was trying to hide the fact that she was crying.
That was all it took. I leaned over, hooked my arms around her, and pulled her upright into a hug. She didn't fight it. She buried her face in my shoulder, her whole body trembling.
Fuck! Where are words when I needed them!
"I know," I whispered into her hair. It was all I could say. The inability to console was a failure...My failure.
"I miss Mama" She choked out.
"I know" It was all I could say.
I should have said hell lot more. But like I said, Liliana was the one with all the answers. I was just an imposter, masquerading as the adult.
She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes red-rimmed and searching mine. "Do you still love Mom?"
It was the first time today, I had an answer...a real tangible answer. "Yes, Joni. Very much. She was the love of my life. She gave me you." I brushed a fresh tear from her cheek. "Loving her is a forever thing. Not a maybe. It's infinte" I exhaled.
She was a sad little thing with red trimmed eyes and quivering lips.
"How do I reach you, kiddo? I don't...I don't know how to reach you. Mom was great at this... I'm... I'm..." I exhaled.
This was too much to put on a thirteen year old who was grieving. My failure shouldn't be her problem.
"I love you. You will get through this."
"Why don't we go to church, anymore. Mama loved Church" she asked, her hazel eyes locking on mine with the precision of a laser.
"I will make time. I will find time. I'm just swamped with work"
It was a lie.
I exhaled again. It seems to be all I do now. Exhale And improvise.
"But Joni, give Emilia a chance. She's good people. And because she married me, she lost everything. Her family, her home… all of it. Could you at least not plot her murder until you've gotten to know her?"
Joni absorbed this, her smart mind working behind her eyes. "Do you love her, Daddy?"
I felt my walls go up. I stood, busying myself with straightening her quilt. "I married her, didn't I?" I answered.
"Does she love you?" She asked me.
"She followed me to Willow Creek, didn't she?" I deflected again, moving toward the door.
"One more question," she said.
I paused, my hand on the doorknob. "Ask, baby."
"Are you going to keep deflecting and hope my thirteen-year-old mind is tricked by it?" She asked, with this look I have seen so many times in the mirror.
A hearty laugh burst out of me. "Oh, I forgot. You are my daughter."
A real smile finally touched her lips. I loved it. "Yes, I am. Good night, Dad."
I crossed the room, kissed her forehead, and encourage her to eat.
After checking on a sleeping Lorraine, I headed downstairs.
The kitchen was clean. The dishes were done. And the front door was unlatched. A prickle of worry went through me.
Did she make a run for it?!
I stepped outside onto the porch.
There she was. Sitting on the wooden old bench near the mailbox, still as a statue, staring down the empty, dark road like she was waiting for a bus to come.
I went and sat down beside her. She stiffened, just a little, and I hated it.
I hated that I'd made her feel like a guest in her own temporary home. I hated the quiet defeat in her posture. I hated the thousand thought that must be going through her head.
We sat in silence for a long time. Even the crickets were louder than our breathing.
"Who are you waiting for?" I finally asked, my voice rough.
She let out a laugh. "It's going to sound silly."
"Tell me anyway." I told her.
She kept her eyes on the road. "I guess I'm waiting for my knight in shining armor... to come to my rescue on a white horse… to whisk me away to a place where I don't have to walk on eggshells. Where I'm not unwanted. Or in the way." She finally glanced at me. "I told you it was ridiculous."
My stomach tightened. "Is it Preston?"
Was she still in love with him?
She looked down at her hands, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I used to think so," she whispered. "But he never really was, was he? So, no." She took a shaky breath. "I'm hoping it's my Dad. Which is funny, actually. Because I made him promise not to come. My little brother's future kinda depends on him staying loyal to my grandmother." She exhaled "I guess I'm fresh out of knights. No one is coming"
She relaxed back into her chair, the fight gone out of her, and went back to staring at nothing.
I stood up. "I'm gonna head in," I said.
"Go ahead,"she replied, her voice distant. "I'll stay awhile. I'll crash on the couch after."
I nodded and went inside. But I didn't go to the living room.
The image of her sitting there, waiting for a knight who would never come, was stuck in my head.
I went out the back door and headed for the stables.
***
(Emmy's POV)
After he left, I rubbed my stomach like a genie. My baby was the size of a nut but their life was off to a rough start.
It's not his job. I reminded myself.
It's not his job to make you feel better, I scolded myself. Room and board is enough.
Then I heard it. A sound that didn't belong. The rhythmic clop of a horse's hooves coming from down the very road I'd been staring at.
I stood up, thinking I was hallucinating from exhaustion. But halfway down the lane, under the glow of the moon, was a man on a horse. Riding toward me.
My heart leapt into my throat. As he came closer, a laugh bubbled out of me— this real, unguarded, joyful sound that echoed in the quiet night. It was Carson.
He pulled the beautiful, dark horse to a stop in front of me, trying not to laugh. "Did someone order a knight in shining armor?"
I was giggling now, like a child, tears pricking my eyes as I stepped closer to touch the horse's warm, sleek neck.
"It's the wrong color," he commented, swinging down with an easy grace. "I thought about painting her white, but… I don't think Lucy would have appreciated it."
I looked up at him, at the kindness and the sheer, wonderful madness in his eyes. I didn't think. I just leaned in and pressed my lips to his in a kiss.
I pulled away instantly, my face flushing. Stupid, stupid, you overstepped—
But his hand came up to cradle my jaw, his eyes dark and serious. He pulled me back in, and this time, it wasn't brief.
This was a kiss.
It was thorough and passionate...and it stirred up things in my abdomen.
His other arm wrapped around my waist, holding me close. It was everything I'd imagined and more. He was everything I had imagined.
When he finally pulled away, we were both breathless, our foreheads resting together like in the movies or romance books.
"Carson—"
"You are not in the way," he whispered, cutting me off "You don't have to walk on eggshells with me. I am on your side, Emilia"
I blinked back the tears that now fell freely. "Damn you, Carson Gibbs," I breathed, a watery laugh escaping. "Those are things you shouldn't say to a romance novelist. Lest she starts thinking you have a crush on her or something."
He laughed. "Too much?" He asked me.
"No. It's perfect. You..." I swallowed. "Are perfect"
He looked away and ran his hand through his hair. Was my knight in flannel and black pants shy?
He gestured to Lucy after a few seconds. "Do you want to ride? I can teach you."
I took the reins, put a foot in the stirrup, and mounted the horse with an ease that made his eyebrows shoot up.
"Oh, honey," I said, looking down at his utterly shocked face. "I'm a Vanderbilt. I've been riding since I was six. Don't worry husband, Lucy is safe with me "
And with a click of my tongue, I took off. I rode for long time.
so, this is what I know for sure. Guardian Angels? They are real. And they tend to find broken hearts in the most unlikely places like a kitchen or near a mail box or in broken down motel rooms.