Page 117 of All We Carry Home

“Warren.” Her voice was cautious, warning.

“Just tell me you feel the same,” I said. If she did, I’d uproot it all. Perhaps being with her was what I was really meant to do with my life. I just needed her to confirm my suspicions. I wanted to believe, with the glances she gave me, the way her hand caught mine, the ease she had around me, that I wasn’t misreading these signs.

Silence drew between us like a chain, tensioned and cracking against the pressure. If it snapped, it could shatter the illusion or open a new door.

Eva, please.

For the second time that day, a tear fell down her cheek. She shook her head, and my world crumpled before me.

“I don’t feel the same,” she whispered.

“I don’t believe you,” I said gruffly.

“We don’t have a future together, Warren.”

That wasn’t the same as her not loving me. “Why not?”

“I can’t tell you. Please don’t ask me to.”

“Do you feel anything for me?”

Her voice caught, and another tear broke free of the dam. “Of course I do.”

My heart soared. “We can work anything else out, Eva.”

She put her hand over mine, then pulled free and put distance between us. A wall. The wall I’d been trying to break down for weeks, further reinforced.

What could possibly keep us from a life together? What wouldn’t she tell me?

“Good night, Warren.”

“Please.” I was desperate. “Talk to me. Don’t shut me out.”

“I won’t change my mind about this.” She paused in the doorway between the kitchen and the hallway. “We can only ever be trainer and horse owner. Soon, trainer and senator.”

“Eva, I’ve never seen you run from anything,” I said, my voice louder than I intended. I caught her waist one more time. “Don’t run from me now. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

“I wish things were different,” she whispered with a tired smile. Her eyes gleamed with tears as she lifted onto her toes and kissed my cheek. The warmth of her and the smell of her soap left me intoxicated, but her words eviscerated me. “It’s not meant to be.”

She walked down the hall and disappeared into her bedroom. The click of her door latch echoed like a thousand munitions, demolishing the fragile possibility I had of a future with her.

Thirty-One

Eva

JULY 16

Warren was awake and brewing coffee before the sun rose. I wasn’t sure he’d slept at all. I hadn’t.

I’d played our conversation over in my mind a hundred times, questioning whether I should have told him the truth.

I remembered how Keith had reacted, how deeply that had hurt when I was young and hadn’t even a clue what love was. Now I understood what love was and knew that Warren reacting in horror would destroy me.

Better that he never knew.

He still greeted me with a soft smile and handed over a cup of coffee.

I took it, looked through the kitchen window, and hesitated at the vehicle pulling into the driveway. “Did you call the sheriff?” I asked, my heart thudding.