Page 23 of His Secret Wish

“I’m ready.” Claudia came bounding back into the room, her face and hands pink from where she’d scrubbed them almost raw. The front of her dress was awfully wet. Isabella chewed on her bottom lip to stop from grinning. Or worse yet, laughing. Laughing could absolutely be taken in the wrong context, especially in someone so fragile.

“All right, let’s go feed some chickens.” She ushered the two little girls toward the front door.

“Don’t forget the huevos,” Yaya said, her voice loud. Well, as loud as she ever really spoke, which wasn’t very loud at all. Isabella heard her, though, and made sure to grab the egg gathering basket on her way out.

Owen pulled up to the old farmhouse and cut the engine on his truck. There were people milling about everywhere. Although Yaya’s birthday, and the actual party, wasn’t until tomorrow, it looked like the family had all decided to make it a long weekend thing. Given that it was also Memorial Day weekend, it made sense. Even he and Izzy weren’t heading back to Redding until Tuesday morning.

He got out and walked around to the back of the truck. The new mattress was wrapped in plastic, meaning it was going to be tough to grip. Not to mention the difficulty getting it up to the third floor by himself. Where were his brothers when he needed them? Usually there was at least one of them in the vicinity, annoying the crap out of him.

“You need some help there, Owen?” Diego came up to the truck, a beer in his hand. Although it was technically the afternoon, it was still a bit early for alcohol, at least to Owen, but who was he to judge? Besides, it was a celebratory weekend.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” He opened the tailgate and pulled the mattress to the end.

“Hey, Jorge, Kevin, come here and give us a hand, eh?” Diego placed his beer on the edge of the box, and waved a couple of relatives over.

Together, the four of them managed to get the mattress into the house and up the stairs without too many incidents. At the top of the stairs, Owen had them wait while he and Diego went in and grabbed the old mattress. No way they’d be able to get it out if they brought the new one in first. He and Diego leaned it against the wall of the hallway, while Kevin and Jorge maneuvered the new one into the room.

Owen had already taken off and folded the sheets and blankets, so it was smooth sailing. He stripped the plastic off the new mattress, and together they slipped it over the old one. A few colorful words and phrases, and one bruised wrist later, and the four of them were hauling the old mattress into the back of Owen’s truck. There was a recycling program available in town, but he needed to go drop it off before they closed for the day, or he’d be stuck with it until Tuesday morning.

He headed back into the house to see if he could find Isabella and let her know what he was doing. He hadn’t seen her since this morning, when he’d walked in on her and Yaya and the two little girls having a very early breakfast. The sight had nearly buckled his knees, it had been so domestic.

Everything they’d always wanted as a couple. Back when they’d still been a couple.

And then he’d somehow gone and made it awkward. Not that he knew what he’d done. Just that he’d needed to escape before the whole thing imploded. So, like a coward, he’d fled.

What he should have done was pulled up a chair, sat down, and fought for what he wanted. But there was still that sliver of fear holding him back.

And it was understandable. When Izzy left him, he’d been shattered. Broken in ways he didn’t know he could break.

He’d spent three days in their house—the house they’d had built together on a secluded piece of Callahan land. Close enough to the main house to be sociable, but far enough away that they had their privacy—doing nothing but staring into space and drinking himself into oblivion.

And then on the fourth day, he woke up, feeling like ass, with his brothers, Simon and Declan, standing over him. Judging him. Even though, at the time, Simon had no right to, since he’d never gone through anything like Owen had. Never had the love of his life decide he wasn’t what she wanted anymore.

Declan had, though. He’d been in love with Shelby Baptiste, the younger sister of the ranch foreman, Sam, when they were teenagers. There was a two-year age difference between them, so after Declan graduated from high school, he waited in town and worked at the ranch for the two years before Shelby turned eighteen and graduated. The plan had been for the two of them to move to Louisiana together, since Shelby had received a full ride scholarship to Louisiana State in Baton Rouge. That had gone over really well with their dad, especially since he’d already lost Mason.

That summer, Shelby made a trip to visit some friends and family in Los Angeles, and she never came back. Cut all ties with Redding and Declan, and just basically disappeared from his life. The only reason they all knew that nothing bad had happened to her was because she was still in contact with her brother, Sam. Declan had been devastated, and at first, had tried to get her to at least tell him why. Eventually, he gave up trying to contact her, although Owen knew he’d never really gotten over her. Or what happened.

So, yes, Declan totally understood where Owen was coming from, and got a pass. Not that either of them were helpful. They’d both wanted him to chase after Izzy, find out what was going on. But Owen had known. Izzy didn’t love him anymore. He couldn’t give her what she wanted. What she needed.

And, in a weird way, he’d completely understood why she’d left. And why it would be wrong to chase after her.

“Mi, tesoro.” Yaya placed her hand on his arm, a smile on her beautiful, wrinkled face.

He shook his head to dislodge his troubling thoughts. So many twisted threads, so much baggage. “Hi, Yaya.” He bent and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you for the new bed.” She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. “Although you didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, Yaya, I did. The old one was squeaky and lumpy. Now you’ll have a nice, new mattress for your guests to sleep on in the future.”

“And, this way, you make everyone else look bad.” Isabella’s mother, Rosa, came up and handed Yaya a cup of tea.

Guilt ate at his insides like termites through wood. She’d never quite approved of him, and he’d tried for ages to turn her around, but nothing ever worked. And then, when all the pregnancy issues happened, it just got worse.

“That was never my intent.” He kept his voice even, made sure to look at her when he spoke. Maybe she’d see the truth in his words. “I was honestly thinking more about my and Izzy’s comfort than anything else.”

She flinched at the nickname. She’d always hated that he and his brothers used it. “Of course, you were.” Ice practically dangled from the words. “Because it’s all about you, isn’t it?”

It was his turn to flinch. He knew as soon as the sentence had left his mouth he was in trouble. It had come out wrong, and she’d jumped on it immediately.