Whirling away from him, she clutched the blanket tighter around her and placed her other hand over her heart. It beat a million miles a minute. “I don’t know if—”

“Don’t fight me on this, Sage.”

“I don’t want to fight.” She sighed. “I want my life to return to normal.” The blanket slipped lower along her back, exposing a circular scar on her shoulder blade.

Unable to help himself, he traced it and she shivered. “I’ll never forget the day this happened.”

“Me neither. It hurt like all get out,” she said with a sniff.

Sage had fallen on a floating log while knee boarding with her cousins on the Pamlico Sound. They hadn’t been dating then, but he’d almost swallowed his tongue when he’d seen her fall.

Diving into the water to get to her hadn’t been a second thought, or a regretful one. Not even when his cousins were catcalling him from their boat. Floating and holding her while she cried and bled all over his hand had nearly made him cry, too, as they waited for her cousin’s boat to turn back around to get her.. A temporary truce had been brokered that day between the Morales’ and Caswells, as they worked together to get them both out of the water and Sage to the closest emergency room.

A week later he worked up the nerve to ask her out. It had taken a little over three weeks before she’d said yes. And only two weeks more to realize he was crazy about her. Only a month more to realize he’d found the woman of his dreams.

“You saved me,” she added.

That he had. “I need you to save me back.” He kissed a bare shoulder. “I need you, Sage. I’ve brought all my worldly goods in that moving trailer. Holland Springs is my home and I plan on making a life here, with you. I want babies and t-ball games…and ballet lessons. I want you to yell at me when I track mud in the house or when I say something majorly stupid, then have make-up sex. I want to grow old with you and drive real slow on Sunday afternoons. “

“I need more time, Joaquin,” she whispered.

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but she hadn’t said no. “You can have more time, sweetheart, but I’m coming home, to this house, when I’m done talking with my parents,” he said. “Then we’ll decorate the tree…Hell, we’ll finish decorating the house like we’re the Griswolds.”

She bent her head, dark red strands falling forward, exposing the nape of her neck. An eternity seemed to pass before she turned to face him. Grey eyes soft like rain. “Guess I’ll need to tell my parents, too.”

“My parents already know,” he admitted.

Her eyes went wide. “How long?”

“It’s part of the reason they disowned me and kicked me out of the house.”

She grabbed his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He made a face. “I did, in my first letter to you, remember?”

“Not really.” Pain sliced his heart like a knife. “But I mean then.”

Tipping his head to the side, he asked, “Is that why you keep all of them by your bed?”

Her cheeks turned red, eyes dropping to the floor. “No,” she whispered. “I got them out to tear up in front of you.”

Clenching his jaw, he fought to remain calm. “Like I said, I’ll be back later. I’ll text you when I’m on my way—unless you changed your number again.”

She shook her head. “It’s the same.”

Despite the rage and pain he felt, he kissed the top of her head and left the room.

Chapter Eight

Joaquin barely made it in the door before he was assaulted with hugs and kisses from his family. Aunts and uncles talking to him in a mixture of Spanish and English.

Jesus, he missed this. Almost as much as he’d missed Sage.

“My baby!” Mariela charged through the group, throwing her arms around his neck while she sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Guilt and relief flooded him. He hated not talking to her, hated that she’d worried, but in his mind, she’d chosen to side with his father- his stubborn, hard-head father.

He tightened his arms around his mother. “I missed you, too, Mamá,” he said, his voice gruff. Damn, but if he didn’t feel like crying like a five year-old.

She pulled away, inspecting him from head to toe, her brown eyes liquid and filled with everything he was feeling. Her hands shook as she touched his face. “You look older…still my Joaquin though.” Smiling, she patted his arm. “Too skinny. Let’s eat.”

“Let me see my son,” Juan boomed and the crowd parted like the Red Sea. His father strode up to him, proud and pompous as usual. Joaquin braced for the lecture and the insults. That he wasn’t welcome at this house, the car dealership, yes, but never here.

Joaquin ticked up his chin. “I’m home and still married to Sage Caswell.”

To his utter shock, his dad’s face crumpled as thrust out his hand. “Forgive me. I was wrong. Forgive me, por favor.”

Unable to move, Joaquin stared at him. There was a vengeful part of him that wanted to tell his dad to go screw himself. That he’d had four years to ask for his forgiveness. Too little, too late. But the larger part of him, the part of him that his parents had instilled deep in his heart, and had been honed in the Army knew when to show mercy.

His father had bent; Juan Morales had swallowed his pride first. A feat Joaquin thought he’d never see.

“I’m sorry, too, papá,” he said, grabbing his dad’s hand and pulling him in for a hug.

***

Joaquin sat at a table big enough to seat twenty, but his mother still had to bring in two more folding tables. It was amazing how easily he slipped back into the role of the doted upon son. His mother fixed his plate, his drink, and if he had let her, would have cut up his enchilada.

“Where’s your wife?” Juan asked. “Shouldn’t she be here celebrating, with her husband and family?”

Mariela tsked, shaking a finger Juan. “Leave him alone.” Then she patted Joaquin’s cheek. “Eat up, niño.”

“It’s okay.” He speared a bite of chicken and green chilies. “She’s talking to her parents, papá .” Not wanting to hurt their feelings, he didn’t add that he wasn’t sure how she’d be treated here. “We plan on decorating our house tonight.”

“Decorating?” his cousin smirked. “Is that what they’re calling it now days?”

Carmen smacked Roberto on the back of the head. “Manners.”

Joaquin bite back a grin at the couple. “I should take you out back, Berto, for telling Sage.”

Roberto toasted him. “You’re welcome.”

Eying his mother, he leaned in and asked, “Why don’t you and papá come over Christmas Day.”

Smiling, Mariela teared up once more. “We wouldn’t miss it.”

“Can’t stay long though, sales strategies to plan,” his dad said around a bite of empanadosas. “The day after Christmas can be very good.”

Mariela smacked the table and everyone grew quiet. “No, Juan. We will stay as long as Joaquin and Sage want us there. Sales can wait.”

Joaquin fully expected his dad to storm away from the table, muttering and cursing in Spanish, but once more Juan surprised him. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, looked at his wife, then at Joaquin and nodded once. “Fine.”

Everyone resumed talking and eating, as though something spectacularly amazing hadn’t just occurred before their very eyes.

“Guess a miracle really can happen at Christmas,” Roberto whispered to Joaquin.

“Do they happen twice?” Joaquin asked, his mind turning to Sage. “Because I’m in need of another one.”

***

It was just another Saturday night at the Caswells’ house. Her aunts, uncles and cousins were hanging out in the rec room, shooting pool, playing Wii, and drinking at the built-in bar in the corner.

“That rat bastard’s truck was seen at your house last night,” her cousin, Rachel said. “I got a set of keys ready and willing to write something pretty on the side.”

Had her momma told everyone in the family about those letters? Struggling to maintain her composure, she lined up her Wii remote with the flatscreen. “You’ve really got to quit listening to Carrie Underwood songs,” Sage said.

“Just saying.”

“So noted and appreciated, but Joaquin’s being less rat-bastardly for the moment.”

“Sage, darling, come over here and sit with your momma.” What was it about southern mothers that made them talk in the third person about themselves and no one called them out for it?

Handing off her remote to Rachel, Sage joined her mother on a gold sofa with large plaid pillows. “Yes ma’am?”

“Why do you insist on those horrible glasses? Contacts would do you a world of good.”

“I like my glasses and I only need them to see far away.” And since it was easier to keep them on all the time, instead of just when she needed them. Besides, it was another victory over her mother’s insistence on what Sage should do, wear or act.

“Then we’ll call Dr. James and schedule you for laser eye surgery.”

“I’ll think about it,” Sage said, earning a pleased smile from Virginia.

“That’s my girl.” Virginia handed Sage a manila envelope and smiled. “Merry Christmas, sugar. Hope you don’t mind it’s early, but your Uncle Joe came by today.”

Sage tilted the envelope to one side, dread making her heart pound. Uncle Joe was a divorce attorney in Charlotte. He was vicious and mean, and always got his client the most amount of money and custody, whether they deserved it or not. A stapled document slipped out.

After reading through it quickly, Sage shook her head and shoved it back in the envelope. “How did you know I’d married?”

Tossing back a glossy strand of red hair, Virginia smiled sweetly. “A mother always knows.”

Meaning a mother that used her brothers and sisters jobs to snoop and spy on people knew everything about everyone. Was her dad that much of a push-over?

“I’m not sure about this. I think I want to try to work things out with Joaquin. He’s staying at my house and we plan to spend Christmas together,” Sage began, but Virginia suddenly went pale, her breaths coming out in little gasps.

“I can’t breathe,” she panted, her hand over her heart.

“Daddy,” Sage shouted, moving to the end of the sofa to prop up her mother’s feet. “Momma’s having one of her dizzy spells.”

Charles came hurrying over, beer in hand, and a frown on his head. “I’ll call Doctor Reed.”

“No need,” Virginia said, all breathless and pale cheeked. “Just give me a minute.” She sliced her gaze to Sage. “You know how my condition affects me.”

For years, Sage had suspected that her mother used her asthma and heart murmur as an excuse to get her way, but she’d never tested that theory. “I know and wouldn’t it be great to have a son-in-law like Joaquin to help out in times like these? Just think of all the things he could do with Daddy, so you don’t have to worry?”

Virginia frantically waved her hand in front of her face. “Oh, dear. I swear, my heart is beating so fast. Get me my pills, Charles.”

Her dad hurried off

A warm hand clasped hers. “Sage, darling, I want you to swear that if anything happens to me that you’ll take care of your daddy. He’s looking at that Cutter boy to take over and who knows what will happen with that.”

“I assumed Hank would buy Daddy out.”

Long lashes fluttered closed. “But what would happen to my baby girl? You know those Moraleses will try to leave you high and dry. Better make the first move.”

“I should divorce Joaquin in order to—”

“Here you go, sugar,” Charles said, kneeling on the floor with two pills and a glass of water.

Virginia took the meds and sipped at the water, flashing her husband a grateful smile. “What would I do without you?”

Sage rolled her eyes.

Her mother accepted a kiss on the cheek and waved her husband away, fixing her bright blue eyes on Sage. “I’m so glad you agree, Sage.”

“I didn’t agree to—”

“My word…it’s happening again,” her mother said, cheeks even paler.

“Let me think on it.”

Her mother beamed at her, all signs of breathlessness and heart problems magically gone. “Don’t take too long. While Uncle Joe is family, he ain’t cheap.” Virginia rose from the sofa and made her way to the bar.

For a few minutes Sage watched her mother laugh and carry on as if she hadn’t a care in the world or a heart problem. Had Sage really been that gullible? Rising to her feet, she grabbed the envelope and made her way upstairs to her parents’ bathroom. In the medicine cabinet, she found her mother’s pills.

They looked legitimate, with a prescription filled by Sage’s Aunt Helen. She popped off the top and frowned. The pills looked exactly like the ones she had to take before she flew across the country by herself. Anxiety pills, Aunt Helen had told her, nothing that could hurt or form an addiction from taking a couple.

All this time, her mother had been taking anxiety pills?

Fury coursed through her. All this time, Sage had thought she’d done the right thing by staying in Holland Springs with her family, because her mother needed her close.

She hadn’t told her mother about the marriage, only that he’d asked her to marry him. Her mother had had one of those “spells” as she called them that had lasted for weeks. So Sage had stayed, and when Joaquin never came back to home to get her, or even try to convince her to come with him in person, she had just known she’d made the right decision.