Page 75 of The Wedding Ranch
“Most of the time I’m not, but… well… sometimes I overestimate my strength.” She shrugged. “So, under the commitment of not making assumptions about each other,” she said.
He braced himself, wondering what was about to come.
“I heard the pastor mention your wife. You were married?”
He nodded slowly. “Yes.” The word came out flat, but the way he winced, his eyes crinkling, there was more to the story.
“The end of a marriage is hard. Doesn’t even matter who initiated the dissolution. It’s hard on everyone.”
“I agree. Completely.” He lowered his gaze.
“You were married a long time?”
“Not as long as I would’ve liked.” He exhaled a breath. “It’s hard for me to talk about.”
“Oh.” She didn’t really know what to make of that. Maybe it was still too soon. She knew how that felt. “Okay.”
“Wait. No. I can’t let you fill in the blanks on this one.” He took a moment, swallowed, and then leaned back in his chair. “I was married. My wife… Valerie. An amazing woman.”
Pain clouded his words. What could have possibly happened? She thought of how Craig had undermined her, breaking the most important thing, trust. But then she’d never claimed he was amazing. Craig had never been that invested. She knew that now.
Had Ryder’s wife left for someone else? Something else? A career. She’d worked with women who’d left husbands who couldn’t handle their commitment to their careers. She could see him standing firm here in his hometown, where he’d laid roots, rather than making a move. Ryder loved Dalton Mill.
“She was a wonderful wife. Always thoughtful. Creative. Full of life.”
“You really loved her.” He didn’t have to say it. It was in every word. It hung in the air like Christmas. You knew what it was, even though you couldn’t see it or touch it.
“She was lovely inside and out. Our son. Ronnie Dwayne. He looked just like her. Handsome little guy.”
A child?The gravity of him being a father saddled her for a moment. She’d dreamed of being a mother but hadn’t considered the possibility of him having a child.We’re just friends. It doesn’t matter.
He looked at her and drew in a breath. “They were my whole life.”
“How long ago…” The question hung. She couldn’t imagine that kind of love going ignored. How could she have left him?
“Seven years ago.” The pause was long, becoming awkward.“Car accident on a foggy Sunday morning. Trooper said there were no skid marks. They never saw the other car coming.”
Her hand swept to her heart, as if holding it in place might keep the thought of that tragedy from crushing her. “Oh my gosh.” It came out as a whisper. “Drunk driver?”
He nodded.
“The most unforgivable act.” Her bitter past pulled her slightly off-balance. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“I guess seven years is a long time, but I’ll tell you, it doesn’t feel like even seven minutes ago some days.” His lip twitched.
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry I asked. I—”
“You deserve to know. It’s my baggage. Part of who I am.” His voice broke. “I carry it with me every day.”
You got a whole steamer trunk full of it.How unfair. There were no words to convey how she felt, or anything she could say that might soothe that pain for him. Her heart ached for this good man who had so truly loved his family.
“Not a day goes by that I don’t grieve over them. Notforthem. I do know and believe they are in a good place. Doesn’t keep me from wishing I’d been driving that day though.”
“I can’t imagine.” She looked into his eyes. “I didn’t expect this.”Perspective. All I’ve been through seems like nothing in comparison.Most recently the bitterness she’d harbored looking around this gorgeous wedding venue and thinking that in just a couple of weeks Craig and Tiffany would be enjoying all of it. She’d owe that forget-about-it jar about twenty bucks before the night was over at this rate.
Ryder looked right into her eyes. “I cherish them every day. It hasn’t been easy, and I’m not easy to be around sometimes.”
She placed a hand on his arm. “I’m truly sorry for your loss. I hope you never lose a single memory. Only that the grief will fade from black to gray where you can at least live with it.”
