CHAPTER 21
Sterling broke into a grin as Jason entered the small baggage claim area in Manhattan, then gave a surprised whoop as Macey and Sophie trailed after him.
“You son-of-a-gun.” He clapped Jason’s back as they embraced. Then he kneeled down, pulling Sophie into a hug, throat suddenly tight at the sight of Johnny’s bright blue eyes staring up at him. “So good to see you, beanie.”
“It was my idea,” said Macey. “Sophie wanted to see her uncles.” Her face twisted in pain. “And I did too. I need to start getting out.” She took a deep breath. “And this seemed like the right place to make a start. I think Johnny would have–” her voice caught.
Sterling caught her arm. “I know. I think about it every day, Mace.”
She brushed at her eyes.
“Well let’s get you piled into the truck. Are you staying here in Manhattan?”
She shook her head. “We got the last room at someplace called The Lodge at Steele Creek?”
That name had Emma’s handiwork all over it. “I bet that’s the hunting lodge at Sinclaires’. That’s where my–” he stopped. He’d nearly called Emma his girlfriend. Is that what she was? His belly clenched. He swallowed. “My friend Emma, she’s been helping with publicity for the ranch. That’s her family’s place.”
Jason shot him a look over Macey’s head. One of those you’re full of shit, you asshole looks. So what? If he introduced Emma as his girlfriend, it added a whole new layer of complication to their arrangement. He liked her. Loved spending time with her. But she wasn’t his girlfriend. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to flaunt a girlfriend in front of Macey. Not when she’d lost so much. It would be like pouring salt on an open wound. He shook his head. Jason glowered at him before turning to Macey. “Just a heads up, my friend Trace McBride is staying out there. He’s arriving tonight.”
Macey gasped. “The Trace McBride?”
Jason nodded. “He’s our ace in the hole for beating Navy. And a friend of mine.”
Macey socked him in the arm.
“Ow.” Jason grimaced, clutching his bicep. “What was that for?”
“That’s for holding out on me. Since when did you start rubbing elbows with Trace McBride?”
“About a year ago. He came to the winery.”
“Did Johnny know about this?”
The car fell silent. The heartbreak could be cut with a knife.
A small voice piped up from the back. “Daddy was sad for a long time.”
Grief knifed through Sterling, and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He’d never get over the way grief just snuck up on him. In a comment, or a look. Sometimes without even prompting.
Macey sounded defeated when she spoke. “That’s right, sweetie pie. Daddy was sad for a long time before he died.”
“I miss Daddy,” Sophie said with a tremor.
Macey turned, giving her daughter a reassuring pat. “I know. We all do. And it’s okay to miss him.”
Little Sophie’s admission cut to the quick, and the remainder of the ride to the Sinclaire ranch was somber. “I’ll grab the bags,” Jason offered when they pulled into the drive in front of the hunting lodge and hopped out before Sterling could object.
“I’ll grab Sophie,” Sterling told Macey, coming around the front of the truck. “You go on in.”
“Can we see the horsies Unka Stewing?” Sophie’s chubby arms clasped his neck.
“I’m sure we can, poppet. If not here, then you can come to my ranch and I’ll take you on a ride. How’s that?” Sophie rewarded him with a beatific smile that looked so much like Johnny, it hurt. “C’mon punkin’, let’s get you inside to mama.” He carried her around the car and through the open door of the lodge. To Sterling’s surprise, Emma was waiting for them inside. Her face lit when she saw him, then fell, turning confused as she looked from him to Sophie, then to Macey.
Shit. Sterling’s stomach sank like a stone. This looked bad. “Hi.” He gave her a tentative smile.
“Hi.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes and the cool mask of professionalism was firmly in place. She turned to Jason and offered a hand, and then to Macey. “I’m Emma Sinclaire. Welcome to the Lodge at Steele Creek. I’m thrilled you’re here this weekend for our exhibition game. This ranch has been continuously run by my family since before the Civil War. I hope you’ll find everything to your liking.”
Macey extended her hand. “I’m Macey, and Sterling has my daughter, Sophie. We’re friends of Jason and Sterling.”
“Thank you for making the trip.”
No one else likely noticed, but he did. The tight edge to her voice. The two slashes that appeared at the top of her nose. Shame burned in his chest. He should have told her. Explained about Johnny. But the times it had come up, he’d been too grief-stricken to talk about it. It had hurt too much.
“Is it okay for Sophie to have a cookie?” Emma asked Macey, and gestured to the credenza piled high with freshly baked snacks. “My sister-in-law is an excellent chef. She makes kitchen sink cookies filled with chocolate chips and much more, so they’re a little bit nutritious. My nephew loves them.”
Macey smiled at her, then opened her arms to receive Sophie “Would you like a cookie?”
Sophie burrowed into her mother, eyes wide and nodded.
He should say something. Explain. It all felt so awkward. But the words were stuck in his throat, and anything he said in front of Macey or Jason would pick at a scab that wasn’t fully healed. Jason raised his eyebrows and knocked his chin in Emma’s direction as she bent to retrieve a box from underneath the large farm table, then scowled when he shook his head.
“Sterling’s told me all about your work for the fundraiser,” Jason said, glaring daggers at him.
Emma turned and stood, a look of surprise on her face. “Really? Well, I hope it meets your expectations. I’m looking forward to the game tomorrow. And here.” She held out a shirt. “This is your team shirt for tomorrow.” She gave it to Jason, then turned to Macey. “I took the liberty of assuming you’d be supporting the Army if you’re with these two?”
Macey gave her a pained smile. “Yes.”
“And I have a child’s small. It will be big for Sophie, but you can knot it.” She held the shirts out for Macey.
Macey’s eyes filled with tears. He knew what she was thinking. He was thinking the same thing. Johnny should be here. The three of them should be doing this together, like they always did. “Jason?” Macey said thickly. “Can you keep an eye on Sophie? I need a minute. Please forgive me,” she said to Emma as she hurried out the front door.
“Wait, Mace,” Sterling called as he followed after her. He found her on the patio, leaning against the house, tears streaming from her face.
“Aww, hon.” He pulled her into an embrace, and she shook in his arms.
“I can’t do this,” she sobbed. “I can’t even talk to anyone without falling apart. How am I going to make it through this weekend?”
“You’ve got me and Jason. We’ll do this together,” he answered, his own voice tight with sorrow. “Johnny should be here. I hate that he’s not. I don’t know how he could do it.”
Macey lifted her tear-stained face, and shook her head vehemently. “Don’t say it. Don’t. We have to move forward. All of us. You, me, Jason. And we have to keep the good parts of him alive for Sophie.” She covered her face with her hands and breathed deeply. “Johnny wouldn’t want us to be stuck like he was.”
“It’s one thing to say that. It’s another thing to live it.”
She wiped her eyes. “But we have to do it.”
“But he’s only been gone a handful of months, Mace.”
“Three months and three weeks, to be exact.” She speared him with a look. “I don’t have the luxury of stopping life while I mourn. Sophie needs her one living parent to be fully present. And you owe it to your girlfriend–”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
Macey held up a hand. “Don’t say that. Jason filled me in on the plane ride. She sure sounds like your girlfriend, and Johnny would love that. He’d want that for you.”
“But–”
“I’m so sorry to interrupt.” Emma’s voice sliced through him, cold as ice.
He whirled. Her eyes matched her voice. Shit. Damn. Motherfucker. Panic reeled through him. Had she overheard? Misconstrued? “Em–”
She held up a hand. “Save it.” Then she turned to Macey, voice softening. “Jason brought me up to speed. I’m so very sorry for your loss.”
Fuck.
Now he was in hot water. He should have been the one to tell Emma about Johnny. About Sophie and Macey. About their pact to always be there for Sophie. Instead, she heard it second-hand. For the second time in less than an hour, his chest burned. Everything he should have said flooded into his brain.
“Thank you,” Macey murmured. “I’m sorry I made a scene. This is my first trip since, since…”
“I understand.” Emma’s voice was full of compassion. “Please make yourself at home while you’re here. I have to run, but I’ll look for you at the game tomorrow.”
Hearing that finally spurred him to action. “Wait, Emma?”
She smiled tightly. Emma was never the one to make a scene. Even in high school, their battles had been private. She’d never once lost her cool when he’d taunted her publicly. But he recognized the steel in her eye. She was pissed as hell. And this time he deserved it. “I’m late for an appointment. Goodbye, Sterling.” She disappeared around the corner.
His stomach pitched. She’d said those words plenty of times before, but never with the hard edge they were delivered with just now. Always with a smile, or a laugh, or a teasing note. Fear pooled in his gut. This was just a small misunderstanding, wasn’t it? Not something to ditch him for? And if she ditched him, did that mean they had been dating and he’d been too stubborn to acknowledge it? He scrubbed a hand over his face trying to make sense of what in the hell had just happened.
Macey tsked. “Oooh. You’re in trou-ble.” Her voice pulled out the end sound.
He shook his head. “I don’t understand what just happened.”
Jason’s prosthetic scraped against the patio. “Let me explain using small words.” His voice held a hint of laughter. “You’ve been seeing Emma for three months–”
“Not seeing,” he corrected. “And I was gone for a month.”
Jason rolled his eyes and caught Macey’s eye. “This is what I was talking about.”
“Talking about what?”
“You have no right to sound offended when your head’s stuck so far up your ass you can’t even smell your own shit,” Jason fired back. “Let me spell it out. You reconnected with Emma on New Year’s Eve?”
He nodded.
“And in three months, it never occurred to you even once to mention that one of your best friends killed himself just before Christmas?”
Sterling winced. When Jason put it that way, he sounded like an ass.
“Do you have feelings for her?”
“Emma?” His voice caught in his throat. Like he was a teenager again struggling to pick a register.
Jason’s face pulled tight. A sign that he was perilously close to losing his temper. “Yes, Emma. Who else?” Jason fisted his hands on his hips. “Here’s the deal, asshole. If you have feelings for her, then you need to man up and apologize.”
“Groveling works well,” Macey added.
Sterling spun to her. “Not you too?”
She gave him an enigmatic smile. “Works wonders. If Johnny were here, he’d tell you how it worked for him.”
“As I was saying,” Jason continued. “If you have any feelings for Emma at all, then you need to go apologize. And if you’re just an asshole.” Jason spread his hands. “Then leave her the fuck alone.”
For a stark moment, Sterling saw the two futures laid out side by side. One with Emma’s smiling face, her laughter and wit. And their sizzling hot nights. The other? The bone aching loneliness like those first weeks at West Point. The cold look in her eyes when she’d left the Trading Post on a snowy New Year’s Eve a few years later. The hollow spot in his chest that lately, hadn’t felt so hollow.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Just say you’re sorry, Sterling,” said Macey gently. “If she’s as nice as she seems, that’s all she’ll need to hear.”
“It’s not that simple.”
Jason shook his head, clapping him on the shoulder. “It really is that simple. And we’ll be right here for you the whole time. Go get ’em champ.”