Chapter Nineteen
Maddie paced the Checkerberry’s kitchen floors that night, making herself dizzy looking between the sauces simmering on the stove and the clock across the room. Dang it, where was he already? Cole had fallen off the radar before lunch, claiming his cell’s battery was about dead and he couldn’t find his charger. A piss poor excuse, but she’d taken the hint and backed off. That was before Kayla had returned with good news.
News that Cole would definitely want to hear, if he ever turned back up.
A millionth glance at the clock and Maddie felt worry snake around her chest. Five after four, and he was never late.
Ever.
“He show up yet?”
She spun around to see Kayla peeking through the double-doors, excitement lighting her pretty face. “No, and I’m about ready to send out a search party.”
“I’m on it.”
Kayla ducked back out of view, and Maddie returned her attention to her work. Which, admittedly, is where it should be. Too bad her heart was wrecking havoc on her concentration right now.
He is going to show, she told herself. Probably just got delayed at work or ran out of gas. Two very logical explanations out of a hundred logical reasons. But deep down, she wasn’t buying it. At ten after, her gut was telling a whole other tale, one that involved her, the kitchen, and no more Cole.
“He wouldn’t just leave,” she whispered, desperately wanting to believe it.
A knock sounded from the kitchen’s side door just as Maddie was finishing chopping greens for the salad. She bolted for the door, her elbow catching an empty metal mixing bowl. It fell to the ground as she dashed by, the resulting clang echoing through the space sure to draw diners’ attentions. But she didn’t care. In fact, in that moment she didn’t care about anything except the man who’d finally arrived. She threw open the door and dove out into the cold October air, arms open wide—
And stopped.
“Tyson? W-what are you doing here?”
…
Cole headed down West Deerfield Road, trying to strengthen his resolve to leave without seeing Maddie and failing miserably. He’d longed for her all day like an addict needing a fix of comfort, of love. But she’d been at work and he’d been, well, a mess. That’s what vicious mobs, looming leases, and little income did to a guy, in love with an amazing woman or not.
So he’d packed his things and slid out the back door, leaving his grandfather a note and envelope with money for this month’s shop lease on the kitchen table. He’d send next month’s before it was due, the note promised, though he actually had other plans. Plans that would include another local musician who’d wanted that storefront. Then maybe both Granvilles could wash their hands of the place.
It sucked, watching his dreams go up in smoke and his first real relationship coming to an end before it technically got started. Him walking away from the only real family he had left. But it was the right thing to do, he told himself as the inn’s drive came into view. For everyone involved.
He slowed to make the turn, glanced up the drive for any oncoming traffic, and drew to a stop. There were two people standing just outside the kitchen’s side door, and even from this distance he knew by their shapes exactly who they were. Tyson stood before Maddie, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He extended his arm toward her, and she took the flowers, bringing them to her face, then lowering them before her.
Cole’s gaze slid to the envelope atop the pile of his possessions on the passenger seat. He’d meant to leave it on her windshield, his final surprise for her. This one, he knew, wouldn’t bring a smile to her face like the others had. The entire ride over, he’d debated going through with his plan to leave town, to leave her. But seeing Tyson here, bringing her thoughtful gifts that went beyond silly scribbles on napkins and menus, only solidified in his mind what he already knew:
He had to set her free.
Maddie deserved more, so much more than he could possibly hope to give her. Even if his studio had taken off, the income would have been modest. Nowhere near enough to support a relationship, or a family…
No, he didn’t deserve to go down that line of thinking. And while the thought of never seeing her again absolutely crushed him, deep down he knew she would be fine. Over these past few weeks, she’d stopped hiding from the world, had started to be brave, adventurous. A man like Tyson would give her all she needed, and beat the tar out of anyone who threatened to take that confidence away again.
Swallowing hard, he gave the pair one last look. They had yet to move inside. Though, at this hour, he could only guess she was thanking him for the flowers but insisting she had to get back to work. And wondering where the heck Cole was.
Guilt and regret threatened to swallow him whole.
The fading sun shone off Maddie’s hair, making his fingers itch to run through its long waves one last time. But that time had passed, the memory of their night together one he would never forget. Rather than pull down the drive and deposit his letter as planned, he headed back into town to make one last stop.
Did that make him a coward? Maybe so. She’d never been an easy woman to persuade, especially on topics she felt strongly about. But this was the right thing to do, he knew in his heart. Hopefully someday she’d learn to forgive him, and would find an even stronger love with a better man. A man with a future, one who could offer her the world.
Unfortunately, Cole couldn’t be him. But as he slipped the envelop under her drafty, behemoth of a front door, he was able to find a glimmer of comfort knowing he had indeed been good to his word—Cole had promised to help Maddie snag Tyson, and it seemed that’s exactly what was happening. After all, Granvilles were always good to their word.
He just never imagined being good to his word would mean sacrificing his own heart along the way.
…
Maddie wasn’t surprised to find her windshield note-free after work. Wasn’t entirely surprised to see Cole’s rarely used clunker car missing from the lot behind his grandfather’s shop, either. But when she shouldered her apartment door open that evening and spied a single, plain white envelope waiting for her on the floor, well, it brought her to her knees.
Because she knew this was good-bye.
She reached for it with a shaking hand and held it close, tracing her name etched in Cole’s now-familiar handwriting across its smooth surface. A hint of his sandalwood cologne still clung to the paper, though the adhesive on its flap had long since dried.
How long ago had he left it? Before his shift? After?
She drew in a deep breath, memorizing his scent, picturing his smile. But stalling wouldn’t bring him back, and so with tear-filled eyes she tore the envelope open and withdrew the letter inside.
Dearest Maddie,
By now you’ve figured out that this won’t be one of my usual after work notes. I’m afraid those are done now, gone the way of the Dodo and Saber Toothed Jackrabbits. I can only hope they entertained you half as much as they cheered me writing them. And while I will miss leaving them for you more than you can know, I’m headed west, as far from this town as the cash in my pocket will take me. Because my past, as I knew deep down it would, has found and ruined my future once again. And despite my best efforts, it’s also on the verge of ruining the lives of those I love as well.
I couldn’t live with myself if I stayed, choosing my own selfish needs over the livelihoods of my grandfather, of Ruby, of you. And so I’ve spared you all the trouble of trying to make it work or wait out the storm. The storm’s over now, following me toward the Great Plains. I hope to bury it there, leave it behind along with my name and all the memories of my shitty childhood that came along with it.
Will it work? I don’t know. But I’m tired of trying to hide my past, or putting the burden of helping me hide from it on those closest to me.
Please don’t come looking for me. Leaving you once is killing me, and to leave you a second time would surely do me in. Because I’d have to leave you again, I’m sure of it, to protect you from the trouble I fear I’ll never fully escape. And you deserve far better than that.
Far better than me.
Though, that doesn’t mean I won’t spend the rest of my days missing you. Never in my life have I encountered anyone as selfless, determined, sassy, and beautiful as you. Our time together these past few weeks have been hands down the best of my life—wipe that look from your face, because I’m not blowing smoke. Without you, I never would have had the chance to attempt my dream studio, or the courage to leave and bother even trying to start over.
Because of you, I have hope.
Please keep an eye on my grandfather, he’s even more stubborn about not asking for help when he needs it than I am. You have every right to hate me right now, but I know out of anyone, you’ll understand. So I hope one day you’ll grow to forgive me, and that whenever you hear a Journey song you’ll think back to our times together. And if you feel moved to sing, well, just try not to sing it too loudly (the others don’t appreciate your voice nearly as much as I do).
All my love,
Your Scarecrow
His sketch of a scarecrow, doodled in the corner, was what kicked her tears into overdrive.
All their fun, all their laughter, all their commiserating.
Gone.
When at last the sobbing had faded to sniffles, and the finality of his departure began to truly set in, Maddie traded the floor for her couch. She curled up in the same corner she’d slept in last night, pulling the pillow that he’d laid on close to her chest.
“But Cole,” she whispered, her gaze shifting to the darkened skies outside. “Scarecrows aren’t supposed to move.”