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THIRTY-THREE

Sam knew that she ran at the high school track every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. She generally ran alone, and she ran if it rained or snowed.

Libby Tyler was on a mission.

At first, Sam just drove by, watching her jog around the track. After a couple of times of that, he started to pull over. He knew that she saw him but she wouldn’t look at him. She just ran by.

One day, he got out of his truck, hopped over the fence, and ran behind her. He kept his distance, twenty yards behind her. Libby looked back once, and picked up her pace.

So did Sam.

He came Wednesday and did the same thing. She turned around once and shouted, “Whatever it is you’re doing? It won’t work!”

“Free country!” he shouted back at her.

Sam came back again on Friday. He had no idea what he was doing, really, but he liked running behind her. He liked the way her butt bounced, the way she held her form, her torso upright, her arms tight at her side. He liked just being in the same vicinity as her.

“You’re crazy!” she shouted at him. “A stalker! I could call the cops!”

“So call them!” he shouted back at her.

Sam had heard around town that the Turkey Trot was already a success, that a thousand people had signed up to run, double what she’d hoped. After the city personnel and permits were paid, the race would clear more than enough to get Leo the van. Everything else was going to Homecoming Ranch, which was in the process of being converted to a military veteran’s rehabilitation ranch.

This, Sam had heard from Tony, who had been invited to serve on the board of directors.

“You must be feeling better,” Sam said when Tony told him the news.

Tony had smiled as he lit a cigarette. “I have my moments, I won’t lie. But I’ve got a couple of guys around me now to help. And, you know, Cindy has been coming around.”

Sam knew Cindy and figured she’d last about five minutes. But it was a sign of progress, and baby steps were necessary for Tony.

He really admired Libby for what she was doing—taking giant, leaping strides. She’d had a really bad summer, but somehow, she had turned it around and had become the town’s little twinkling star with this race and the new plans for the ranch. That was what he called the turn of the page.

But that wasn’t what had brought Sam to this track for the last two weeks. He had thought of little else than what she’d said that day in his shed. Libby was right—he
was
a coward. He had turned a blind eye to how he was walling himself off from the world, a little more every day. He had thought that as long as he was dragging other drunks to AA, he was doing what he needed to do. But somewhere along the line, he’d stopped living. The only time in the last two years he’d felt alive, like he was a fully functioning man again, was with Libby. And he’d pushed her out the moment it got a little messy.

He’d felt the void of her in his chest, in his bed, in his life. He didn’t know what he was doing, running around behind her on the track, but he wanted her back, and this time, he wasn’t going to let fear of falling stop him.

The following Monday, a week before Thanksgiving, he was sitting in the bleachers when she appeared. A front had come through, and it was freezing. He blew on his fingers as she slowly jogged by, warming up. She looked up at him, and from where he sat, he heard her muttering to herself.

Sam watched her do one full turn around the track. When she passed the second time, he walked down on the track and started running after her. Halfway around the track, Libby stopped and whirled around. “Why are you doing this? Why won’t you leave me alone?”

“Why do you think?”

“Whatever,” she snapped, and turned, started running.

So did Sam.

A quarter around the track, she stopped again and turned around. “You’re wasting your time, Sam. Don’t you have birdhouses to build? Old ladies to feed?”

He deserved that. “I’m not wasting my time. I love you, Libby. I should have run after you the day you called me a coward.”

Libby stood there uncertainly, as if she didn’t know what to do with him, as if she didn’t believe him. “You
what
?” she shouted.

“I said,
I love yo
u
!
” he shouted back at her.

He didn’t know what he expected, but he didn’t expect her to run. That she did, suddenly sprinting away, across the interior field. She was fleeing.

Sam intercepted her midfield.

But Libby pushed him, and tried to escape. So Sam tackled her, bringing them both to the hard ground, landing on his back with her on top, and then quickly rolling over, trapping her beneath him.

“Get
off
me,” she said, kicking at him.

“Not until you listen to me.”

She shoved at his chest. “I don’t want to hear it!”

“You were right, do you want to hear that? You were
right
, Libby Tyler, I
am
a coward. I was afraid of loving you, afraid of giving all to you and being disappointed. And, by God, I’m still afraid of that, but I’m a helluva lot more afraid of missing out on the happiness I had with you if I don’t at least
try
. I’ve thought a lot about what you said, and you were
right
.”

She stopped struggling and glared up at him. “I was right . . . but? There’s a but, isn’t there? Some rule I have to follow.”

“No buts,” he said. “I just love you, Libby. And I’ve missed you so damn much
.
”

“I don’t believe you! How do I know you won’t decide I’m too impetuous, or too much trouble, or too unpredictable for your carefully crafted life? How do I know that if I get mad at someone, you won’t break it off? How can I
trust
you?”

“The same way I’m going to trust you, one day at a time. I’m going to believe that you have learned from the things that happened to you this summer and you’ve moved on. I’m going to believe that you see a future in us, and you are going to work to make it happen, just like you’ve made the race happen, just like you’ve made Homecoming Ranch happen.”

“That’s too easy, Sam!” she said angrily. “You can’t pretend everything is suddenly okay! You can’t sweep it all under a rug!”

“I am not pretending everything is okay, baby. But I’ve thought a lot about what you mean to me. I have thought even more about what happened between us, and I realize, I love you too much to let you go because I have issues. I love you too much to hide behind a birdhouse anymore, okay? I want to move on. I want to be us again.”

“Maybe I don’t,” she said, shoving against him. “Maybe I don’t know how I will ever believe that you won’t reject me if the going gets tough.”

Sam sighed, realizing that his fear of disappointment was matched only by her fear of rejection. He pushed back loose tendrils from her face. “We’re a pair, aren’t we? So much crap to overcome.” He rolled off of her and sat up, looping his arms around his knees. “You’re right, Libby. It’s a gamble for us both. I guess trust is not something that can be promised, it has to be earned. But I know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn yours.”

Libby pushed herself up, too, and sat beside him. A wind swept through the field, and Libby leaned over, rested her head against his shoulder. Sam put his arm around her and pulled her into his side.

“I’m not saying I’m on board with that,” she said. “Because I’m not. I’m pretty mad at you.”

“I know.”

“But if I were to get on board, and I said that I would do whatever it took to earn your trust, too, how exactly would I do that? What would happen?” She looked up at him. “Where do we go from here?”

“We start over,” Sam said. “But without the restraining order.”

“Or the birdhouses.”

He smiled. “Deal.”

She nestled closer to him. “I don’t really want you to give up making birdhouses. But maybe you could bring one or two up to the ranch?”

He could feel the tide turning, could feel Libby turning back to him. “Sure,” he said. “Maybe I’ll teach those guys how to make them.”

“Perfect. They can squeeze in birdhouse construction between yoga and equine therapy.” She laughed. “I’m kidding. Sort of.” She looked at him again, her gaze searching his. “Do you really think we could start over? Do you really think we could squash all the little demons that seem to dance around us?”

“I do,” he said, and pulled her onto his lap to straddle him. “It won’t be easy, and I think we have to be smart about it. But I at least want to try, Libby. More than anything I have ever wanted in my life, I want to try and make it with you. Do you?”

Libby sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Me too. More than anything, Sam. More than you could possibly imagine. But not until I’m through being mad at you.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said, and kissed her, his tongue meeting hers, his hands going around her, pressing her warmth to him.

“Show me.”

That was it for Sam. He rolled again, putting her once more on her back in the middle of the field. He kissed her deeply, with all the longing that had kept him awake and eaten away at him this last month. His hands moved down the body he’d missed in his bed, slipping under her hoodie and up to her breast.

Libby giggled into his mouth. “We’re on the high school track. Won’t we get in trouble?”

“Who cares?”

“Well,
I
do,” she said. “I’ve turned over a new leaf and I’m trying very hard to stay out of trouble.”

“Impossible,” he said against her neck. But he stood up, helped her up, and with his arm around her waist, they ran for his truck.

They made it as far as the backseat, the heavily tinted windows hiding them from the world. And as Sam slid into her, he knew it was right, that his life had never been so right. For the first time in a couple of long, hard years, he wasn’t worried. He wasn’t afraid. He was filled with happiness and relief.

THIRTY-FOUR

On Thanksgiving Day, Libby, Sam, and Luke completed the 5k Turkey Trot. Libby’s event did indeed raise more than enough to buy Leo’s van, as well as provide some starting funds for the Homecoming Ranch Veteran’s Rehabilitation Center. It was truly a day of thanks and celebration.

They rushed back to the ranch to prepare for the feast. Bob Kendrick was already there with Leo, who was in the living room, expounding on what his van would look like.

Libby and Madeline had made a turkey and all the Thanksgiving trimmings. They were a long way from the uneasy place where they had started out as newly discovered sisters. There were still a few bumps in the road, but on that day, Libby felt as if she and Madeline could have been doing this all their lives. Madeline felt like a sister.

It was a cold and gloomy day, but Luke and Tony had made sure the heaters were going in the barn, where they intended to dine.

Emma was not impressed with the idea. “So country,” she said.

“It’s fun,” Libby reminded her.

“If you like hoedowns and rodeos, maybe,” Emma had said, and had wandered into the living room to sit next to Leo.

When the meal was ready, Libby instructed everyone to grab a dish and head for the barn. Bob Kendrick took Leo down to the barn. They were followed by Jackson Crane, Dani, Libby’s mother and her family, Patti and Greg Kendrick, Marisol and Javier and their newborn, Tony and the three vets who were living up at the ranch now, and, of course, Emma, Libby, and Madeline. Only Ernest was missing, having gone to Albuquerque to spend the holiday with his mother.

Libby stood to one side in the barn, watching them all put the food on the table and argue over who sat where.

This is it
, she thought, happily. This was the thing she had sought all her life. A family, big and extended, all hers. She’d found that place to belong.

She’d had that feeling about Homecoming Ranch from the moment she’d learned of it, that it was hers. Even though she didn’t understand all the reasons she’d needed to fight for it, she’d always understood she had to fight. She was fighting for more than a ranch. She was fighting to heal, to grow, to move on with her life, and she’d never felt more content than she did that Thanksgiving Day.

“What are you doing?”

Sam stepped up behind her, put his arms around her middle, and kissed her temple. He was the big reason for Libby’s sense of contentment. They’d begun slowly on this second time around, taking things one day at a time, and it was working. “I’m just being thankful,” she said, and twisted about in his arms. She went up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“Because I love you. And to thank you for looking out for me when I wasn’t looking out for myself. I don’t know where I’d be without you, Sam.”

He laughed. “In jail,” he said.

They stood together and watched Bob maneuver Leo to the end of the table and set up his liquid food with the silly straw. Everyone was finding their seats, filling wineglasses.

“This is where we belong, Sam,” she said. “You and me with all these people. I hope we fill it to the rafters with love.”

Sam kissed her, then took her hand in his. “There will be more love here than you’ll be able to handle, Crazy Pants. Come on, let’s go carve a turkey. And I don’t mean Leo.”

Libby laughed, and with her hand in Sam’s, she went to find her place at the table—right in the middle of all those smiling faces.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

PHOTO © CARRIE D
’
ANNA

Julia London is the
New York Times
,
USA Today
, and
Publishers Weekly
bestselling author of more than twenty romantic fiction novels. Her historical romance titles include the popular Desperate Debutantes series, the Scandalous series, and the Secrets of Hadley Green series. She has also penned several contemporary women’s fiction novels with strong romantic elements, including the Homecoming Ranch trilogy,
Summer of Two Wishes
,
One Season of Sunshine
, and
A Light at Winter’s End.
She has won the RT Bookclub Award for Best Historical Romance, and has been a four-time finalist for the prestigious RITA Award for excellence in romantic fiction. She lives in Austin, Texas.