I need it, you know?
No one else but you would understand that.
Anyway, I don’t have anything else to say.
Please…write back?
Love, Hope.
I smoothed the letter onto the other read ones, frowning a little at the thought of her hurt. Horse riding was dangerous and she’d just proven bones broke easily. Hopefully, she’d be more careful in the future.
The last letter slipped from its envelope, and I unfolded it.
Dear Jacob,
Your mom wrote to me and said you’re not living at home anymore and mentioned your new address to send my letters to.
Wow, you’ve moved out already? That’s cool. But isn’t it a little scary? I’m almost fourteen, and as much as I don’t really like moving around so often, I wouldn’t be able to live on my own yet.
She also said you’ve been running Cherry River super well and she’s very proud of you. That’s nice. I wish I could come see your place. I’d love to ride with you and Forrest sometime.
I know you probably think I’m being clingy or annoying by writing so much to you, but every day, when I touch the locket you gave me with Mom’s lace inside, I think of you. I think of you and want to tell you all about my day. I want to hear about yours and what you’ve been doing and to be your friend.
But I know you’re very busy, so I won’t ask for a reply this time.
I’ll just finish with another thank you and hope you have a wonderful day.
Bye for now, but I hope not forever.
Love, Hope.
*****
PART TWO
*****
INTERMISSION
DELLA
* * * * * *
THAT SON OF mine is not easy.
At school, he made no effort to befriend anyone; at home, he keeps love on a leash; and with Hope, he never let down his walls. Each time he pushes people further away, I fall deeper into the fear that Ren and I failed our son.
That Jacob is screwed up when it comes to love because of us.
That he’s allergic to touch and togetherness because we showed him what happens when death severs such things.
Jacob barely had a childhood, thanks to sickness and sadness, and his teenage years weren’t normal, either.
But Hope…wow, what a brave little thing.
She is the only one who’s dared attempt friendship. She’s the only one who sees what I see and is strong enough to help.
Between you and me, Ren would’ve loved her.
But you know that, don’t you? I don’t even need to tell you why he would’ve loved her.
It’s obvious.
If we’d been blessed with a daughter, we would’ve chosen Hope.
And who knows?
One day, she might become part of our family.
Because a mother always knows, and I know Hope has a crush on my son.
I wonder if it will grow into more as age slips them from children to adults. I wonder if time will be kind to them in the same way it was cruel to us. I wonder if she might be the one to fix everything Ren and I have broken.
Those questions are what led me to meddle.
I know I shouldn’t have, but Hope needed a helping hand. A nudge in the right direction.
So I wrote to her.
I told her Jacob’s new address.
I gushed how proud I am of my son.
All while holding back what I truly wanted to say.
Thank you.
Thank you for trying.
Thank you for not taking no for an answer.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hope
* * * * * *
Seventeen Years Old
“BRIAN, STOP. I’M not ready.”
“Aww, come on, lass. We’ve been dating for six months. How much longer do ya need?”
His Scottish twang echoed loud in my ears as I wriggled out from under him and scurried from the backseat of his bronze Vauxhall. “I don’t know. But tonight isn’t happening.” My hands shook as I smoothed the hem of my dress back into position and adjusted my bra where his hands had been.
“But we had a bonny meal. It’s our anniversary. If we did it now, it would make tonight so special.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing my pink lip-gloss that I’d left from kissing him.
The chilly night air bit at my exposed arms. The grey dress I wore—that I’d hoped made me look worldly and refined—mocked me for thinking I was brave enough to lose my virginity.
It wasn’t the thought of being naked and feeling someone inside me for the first time that terrified me. It was the fact that no boys held any value compared to Jacob Ren Wild.
They all seemed so juvenile, so one-dimensional, so frustratingly simple.
Jacob was complex and snappish and hard work. And no matter how many times I’d tried peering into the secrets he kept locked around his heart, he’d never let me get close.
Not that it mattered.
I hadn’t heard from him in years.
For all I knew, he could be married by now. After all, farmers tended to marry young and have kids early. At least, a lot of the Scottish farmers did.