Page 24 of Falling Back to You

Ruby Jane Shepherd, is Noelle living in the cottage?

RUBY:

What? That would be totally insane.

The stinker. I hit the call button.

“Whoa, boomer, phone calls are for emergencies only!” Ruby groused when she picked up on the third ring.

“Yeah, well, I’d say having my former fiancée living three hundred feet from my house without my knowledge equals an emergency.”

She heaved a sigh, like I was the difficult one in this scenario. “Look, I’m sorry. Actually, I’m not. But if an apology makes you feel better, I’ll give you one.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Why, Ruby?”

She didn’t answer right away. In fact, it was long enough to make me check that she hadn’t hung up on me. Which wouldn’t have been the first time.

“Rubes?”

“I’m worried about her, okay?” Ruby whispered. “I knew she wasn’t thrilled about rooming with me because it would be weird to have her move into the family house. Not that she said that exactly, but I’m not as dumb as I look. And . . . she has a cane, Cal.”

“What?” I’d seen Noelle walk across the field during the photo shoot no problem. Although, now that I thought about it, she had been unsteady on her feet. What had she said? She was in a car accident. She relearned how to walk. My gut churned at the thought of her hurt and in pain.

Was she okay? Was the cabin accessible enough for her? I should check on her.

“When she arrived yesterday, she was using a cane. I don’t know what’s wrong. And look, I don’t know everything that happened all those years ago, but sue me for wanting you and my sister to be happy.”

I reined in my rapid-fire thoughts. “It was a long time ago.”

Ruby sighed again. “Just . . . go easy on her, okay? I’ve never seen Noelle fragile before, and she’d kill me if she heard me say that, but I think something happened to her in New York.”

My heart clenched, concocting a number of scenarios and hating all of them. “I won’t break her, Ruby. But no more matchmaking, got it?”

“Yes, sir,” she muttered.

After a strained goodbye, I locked up for the night and headed to my room. Ruby had a good heart; she also had the habit of meddling. Pretty sure that was a side effect of living in Serenity Springs. We were all born with the inherent need to meddle—it was part of our heritage.

I paused at the window. Across the lawn and down the sloping driveway, warm lights winked from the cottage windows.

Noelle. On my property.

My fingers twitched with the overwhelming desire to text her. But I didn’t have her number. Not her new one.

I brushed aside the urge to pull up screenshots of our old texts I’d never had the heart to delete. After she’d left, I’d texted every day for a week, begging her to return my calls.

Then the day came when I finally got a response. My heart pounded with excitement.

This isn’t Noelle’s number. Sorry, man. Good luck.

There was nothing quite like pouring your heart to a stranger over text and voicemail.

I took the message for what it was. Goodbye.

Giving myself a mental shake, I snapped the new blackout curtains I’d ordered express-shipping on Saturday shut and stretched out in the middle of the king bed, which felt entirely too big tonight. I opened my laptop. Usually, I rewatched highlights and old games to improve my performance. But tonight, I wasn’t in the mood for self-betterment and clicked on an episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show, settling back against the pillows.

I lost count of how many times Noelle and I laughed over this show. I’d never loved it as much as she did, but I loved watching the way her eyes lit up when she laughed. So I watched it . . . because I loved her.

Now it was the show I watched when I pathetically wanted to go back to the future we never got.