Webb stared at her for a long moment, his expression hard, unforgiving, then tore his gaze from hers and stomped on the accelerator. The truck shot forward, its tires kicking up a cloud of dust behind it.
Annalise stood on the drive, her hand still outstretched, her heart feeling as if it were tethered to the trailer hitch on his truck and being painfully ripped from her chest. Suddenly, the brake lights flashed a bright red and the truck slammed to a stop, then reversed, careening crazily back down the drive toward her. Annalise stood, rooted to the spot, until Webb braked to a screeching halt again beside her.
But he didn’t look at her. As desperately as she willed him to do so, he kept his eyes narrowed on the drive ahead. She stared at his profile through the open window, at the hard set of his jaw, unsure what to do, what to say. Angrily, he braced a hand against the steering wheel and shot the gearshift into park.
“If you’ve got something to say,” he growled, “then say it.”
The harshness in his voice, the impatience in it frightened her. Realizing how much she must have hurt him by sending him away, she took a step closer to the truck and laid a hand on the open window, silently praying she could make him understand.
“I’m sorry, Webb,” she said, her voice trembling. “So very sorry. I wanted to tell Bryan about us…. But I couldn’t. Not with you there. It would have hurt and humiliated him if I had.” She dropped her chin to her chest, remembering the look on Bryan’s face as he’d driven away and knowing that, in the end, she’d done both, anyway. “He’s been nothing but kind to me,” she said, lifting her head. “I couldn’t hurt him that way. He didn’t deserve that kind of treatment from me.”
If possible, Webb’s jaw tightened even more. “But I do,” he replied flatly. “Well, not any longer.” He jerked the gearshift back down into drive.
“But, Webb —” she began frantically, and reached for him.
He shrugged free of her grasp. “Not this time, Annie. Twice burned is enough for me.”
He stomped on the accelerator and Annalise stumbled back a step as the truck shot forward. She stared, wide–eyed, watching as he sped away. The fissure working its way painfully through her heart finally split open, the tear a rending pain that dragged her to her knees. She huddled on the dusty drive, her shoulders hunched in misery, her hands fisted against her knees, tears streaking down her face, watching as Webb disappeared from sight…. and from her life.
…
It took Annalise two hours to compose herself enough to tackle the job she’d returned to her hometown to do. Several more hours to complete the sorting and packing of her family’s possessions.
After calling to give final instructions to the moving company, to transfer to storage the boxes of items she wanted to save, she carefully locked the front door behind her, carried her suitcase to her car, and climbed inside. With a last, long throat–burning look at her childhood home, she started the car’s engine and headed down the drive, her airline ticket on the seat beside her.
Halfway to the highway, she slowed, her gaze on the stretch of pasture that separated her family’s ranch from Webb’s. There, tucked among a large gathering of trees, stood the Sweetheart Tree, its uppermost branches gleaming a soft gold in the afternoon sunshine. With her gaze on the tree, she eased on the brake and gradually brought the car to a stop.
Tears crowded her throat as she stared, remembering the times she’d spent beneath the tree with Webb, both the old memories and those more recent, and regretting that she had bungled things with him so badly.
She loved Webb. Always had, though she’d denied those feelings for a very long time. And, by his own admission, she knew now that he loved her. Or had. But now, through her own clumsiness in trying to spare Bryan’s feelings, she’d destroyed that love… a second time. As he’d said, twice burned was enough.
Knowing it was foolish, that she didn’t have time to dawdle, she reached for the door handle and stepped out of the car, giving in to the desire to see the tree one last time. The sun shone warmly on her face as she walked across the field, serenaded by birds perched in the tree’s branches.
She breathed deeply of the clean, country air, filling her senses with the familiar scent of the wildflowers that bloomed freely in the field where her family’s cattle had once grazed. She wanted, no, needed, to capture the scent, the beauty of the scene for those lonely nights she knew awaited her in the city.
As she reached the clearing shaded by the Sweetheart Tree, she stopped, hugging her arms around her waist as she lifted her gaze to take in the vastness of the tree’s branches, and let her heart remember. The laughter. The warmth. The love. The man who had so unselfishly given to her all those things. The man who had given her a second chance. “Oh, Webb,” she whispered, and closed her eyes, choked by tears.
“Annie?”
Startled, she flipped open her eyes to find Webb standing beneath the tree. She took a step toward him, then stopped, remembering his anger with her, and knowing that she’d destroyed whatever feelings he might have felt for her.
“Where’s Bryan?”
“Gone. He left this morning after I told him
about —” The words dried up on her tongue, and heat burned in her cheeks as she remembered telling Bryan about making love with Webb beneath the tree, and sleeping there wrapped in his arms. Quickly she said instead, “After I broke off our engagement.”
“You broke your engagement?”
Not trusting her voice, she nodded. “That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier.” She glanced behind her at her car parked on the drive in the distance. “I was on my way to the airport, but I… I stopped,” she finished futilely, not wanting him to know how desperately she needed to see the tree one last time, to gather as many memories as she could.
“You’re leaving.”
Though his comment was a statement, not a question, she felt compelled to respond. “There’s no reason for me to stay any longer.”
“Yes there is.”
She tensed, fighting the hope that surged within her. She searched his face for some indication of what he was thinking, what he was feeling. “What?” she whispered.
“Me. Us. I don’t want to lose you, Annie. Not a second time.”
Tears welled in her eyes, in her heart. “Oh, Webb.”
He opened his arms and Annie flew into them, burying her face against his chest as he folded his arms around her.
“I’m sorry, Annie,” he murmured against her hair. “I was mad. Hurt. Scared that I was going to lose you again. I wouldn’t listen.”
“No,” she argued, clinging tighter to him. “It was my fault. If I had explained everything to Bryan from the first, as you wanted me to, this would have never happened.”
He tipped her face up to meet his, his eyes filled with an endearing blend of tenderness and regret. “No. You did the right thing. The kind thing. It was my ego that wanted me there to hear you tell him that it was me you love.”
“I do love you, Webb. I always have and I always will.”
“Annie,” he said, and drew her close to his heart. “We’ve got a lot of lost years to make up for.”
Smiling through her tears, she cupped his face between her hands. “Then let’s not waste any more,” she said as she drew his lips to hers.
The End
