“You have eye drops?”
“Of course.”
“Use them. And I think you should wear glasses today.”
“Miss Bronco in glasses?” Van put on a snooty voice. “Is that done?”
“Youare Miss Bronco, and you wear glasses—so the answer is yes. It is most definitely done. I think those tortoiseshell ones will look best with that gorgeous shirt...” Charity’s voice trailed off. She seemed to gather her courage.
“What is it?” Van demanded.
“I just need to say something. Please don’t cut me off.”
Van drew a long breath. “All right. Go ahead.”
“You could have everything. You’re so smart and you are loved, Vanessa.” Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know what went wrong between you and my brother, but I do know that whatever it is, you can fix it. You can make it right. I know him. You can trust him. He will never, ever mess you over.” Charity pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed gently at her eyes.
“Okay.” She gave a delicate little sniffle. “That’s it, all I needed to say to you—I mean, except that, no matter what happens, I really want us to still be friends.”
“Always,” Van vowed, as it came to her that her deepest hurts were truly healing, in no small part due to her friendship with Charity. “And I...”
Charity looked at her through hopeful, shining eyes. “Yes? Oh, Vanessa. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
Could she?
She went for it. “The truth is, I have been thinking about Jameson. Constantly. And Charity, you are so right. He’s a good man, the best. And I do need to let my old hurts go.”
Charity nodded hard. “You need to make room in your heart. Room for happiness.”
“I do.”
“But...” Charity’s smooth brown crinkled. “What hurts are we talking about here, exactly?”
Van gave a tiny shrug. “Well, for starters, disappointments in love. There have been a lot of those in my life so far.”
“Jameson won’t be one of those guys. He knows how special you are. I meant what I said a minute ago. Jameson will not let you down.”
“I know he won’t.” Van felt strangely breathless. She’d blown it with him. She really had. She’d been too busy protecting her wounded heart to let him in. “He’s different. I know it. You’re right about that, too.”
Charity took both her hands. “I really think you two are meant to be together.”
Van couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “You’re such a romantic.”
Charity drew her slim shoulders back. “I am, and proud of it—and don’t stop now. Tell me what other past hurts are bothering you.”
Van confessed, “Well, in my life there have been some extremely mean girls.”
Charity groaned. “Ugh. The mean girls. They’re the worst. You have to stand up to them, show them they won’t get you down.”
“You’re right. And I did. And it was a long, long time ago. Long enough that there’s no excuse for me not to get past it. Luckily for me, now I have you and Callie and Daphne. Good women and wonderful friends with open minds and big hearts. I feel so grateful for you and for them.”
“Oh, Vanessa!” Charity cried, grabbing her in another, tighter hug. “I feel grateful for you, too.”
It all seemed so clear suddenly. She’d judged her hometown by the heartbreak she’d suffered in high school. She’d run away and refused to return except for short family visits—because of a boy she’d trusted with everything who then threw her away, because of a group of jealous, vindictive high school girls.
But already, from last Christmas through this summer, she’d forged some wonderful relationships with terrific women right here in Bronco. She’d met Jameson, a man she knew she could count on, even as she refused to let herself trust him. She needed to stop blaming her hometown for Donnie’s betrayal and the vindictiveness of Maura and her crew.
She needed to be braver. Truer. To be more like the Bronco women she loved—open, authentic, full of love and understanding, proud to step up and live their convictions.
