Page 54 of Second Chance Saloon

Mitch’s eyes widened in alarm. “What is it? Do you feel faint? I can wait here by myself, and you could go wait with Bruno and Estrella.”

“No, I’m fine.” Lips trembling, she turned her head, chin resting on her knees. Her eyes glistened with a sorrow that took Mitch aback.

“No offence, Jackie, but you don’t look fine.”

Forced laughter bubbled from the back of her throat. “Thanks, just what every woman wants to hear.” She swiped her finger over her face and sniffed.

He inhaled, shuffling closer. “You can tell me, you know. If you want.” His hand found her forearm, and she drew in a sharp breath at the contact. “You always said it’s better to tell people things, rather than suffer alone.”

Jackie shook her head. “It’s silly. I haven’t thought about it in a while. I guess seeing Gus and Lina … Well, I shouldn’t be surprised, really.” She exhaled, pointedly looking at the horses. “I can’t have children.”

The four walls of the barn closed in on him. The words echoed, viciously hissing in his ears. A brick weighing a ton dropped through his core.

“I’m so sorry, Jackie,” he managed, sorrow seeping into his words.

He could only imagine how painful it must’ve been for her. Remnants of conversations, snapshots of memories from the time when they both talked about having a family, her absolute conviction that she wanted to be a mother, the way she affectionatelly told him many times that he’d make a great father … They all swiveled in his mind, wrecking his heart.

Jackie burrowed her chin deeper into her knees, still not looking at him. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve made peace with it, I think. Most days, I think I did anyway. But then there are times when it sneaks up on me, like now, and suddenly I can’t breathe. It’s like mourning something I never got to have, knowing I’ll never experience something I always wanted.”

Tension and heart-shattering sadness bled from her rigid frame.

He absolutely hated to see her that way.

“Come here,” he murmured, opening his arms without thinking.

She shot him a surprised sideways glance.

“Don’t overthink it, Jackie. Let me give you a hug. It looks like you could use one.”

She didn’t move right away, eyeing him with concern or maybe suspicion.

“Last chance,” he joked, biting back a smile.

With a sigh and the shadow of a smile, she relented.

Their hips touched and her head dropped to his chest, enveloping him in the fruity scent of her shampoo as his arms wound around her body.

He couldn’t stand imagining her struggle with coming to terms with something so earth-shattering on her own. Whatever happened ten years ago, as much as it hurt him, he realized it might have hurt her even more. And he hated to see her hurt, even after all this time.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply.

“So am I.”

He tightened his embrace, wishing to convey with it the strength of everything he wasn’t sure how to put in words.

After a moment that was both not enough and too much, she disentangled herself from him and stood.

Mitch followed suit, brushing speckles of dust and stray blades of hay off his shorts. Taking a step forward, he angled himself so their chests were a wisp away from each other. “I wish you told me why.” His fingers caught a lock of her hair and pushed it behind her ear.

He didn’t elaborate, didn’t mention anything else, but they both knew what he was talking about.

Her lips pressed inward. She stepped away from him and kept walking backward until she put almost the entire barn’s width between them. “Can I thank you for tonight? Maybe I could give you recommendations to which cenotes to see and organize transport for you, on the house?”

Mitch tilted his head. “Or you could go with me, take me to your favorite one.”

Jackie snorted. “Mitch, you know I can’t.”

He raised his brows, watching her intently, waiting for a further explanation, the unspoken “why not?” buzzing between them like a beehive.