out of high school, I got pregnant. When I dropped that bomb on her, she told me everything was going to be okay, and it was.” Even now, six years later, the emotion of that day, that conversation, crashed through her, potent and painful. She teased the cuticle of her thumb, fighting the welling of love and melancholy. “She won’t understand why I have to leave.”
Matt was silent for a beat. Then, “Why do you have to leave?”
That was one secret she wasn’t prepared to divulge—not even to Matt. She’d tell Rachel. While Amy and Kellan were on their honeymoon, she’d sit Rachel down and explain every last sordid detail of the disaster that had brought about Jenna and Tommy’s need to move from Catcher Creek as soon as humanly possible.
Before Carson brought about the reckoning he’d threatened when he’d left.
But she wouldn’t tell Matt or Amy or anyone else. The fewer people who knew, the safer she and Tommy were, and in the end, that was all that mattered.
Time to throw one of Matt’s verbal U-turns back at him. “You mentioned at the saloon that most of your relatives live in the Santa Fe area. How many generations does your family go back in New Mexico?”
The quirk of his lips told her he knew exactly what she’d done. The question was, would he play along? He tapped the top of the gear shifter. It had to be killing the lawyer in him not to press her back to his topic of choice.
Finally, he nodded in acquiescence. “My great-great-grandfather on my dad’s side moved his family from Maryland and settled in the mountains outside of Santa Fe right before the Civil War broke out. He wanted everyone out of the line of fire without leaving the country altogether. I know that seems unpatriotic, like why didn’t he support the North and fight? But honestly, I’m not sure what I’d do in his position. Self-protection or sacrifice. It’s a complicated choice.”
Not for Jenna. She admired that kind of circling the wagons. Protecting family was her number-one mantra in life too. “I like the way your great-great-grandfather thought.”
“When my grandpa was alive, he used to tell stories about the pioneer days, as he called them. Stories passed down from his father. I loved hearing about how the Roenicks and the other families who made the trip with them transformed from mercantile factory workers into bona fide cowboys and cowgirls. They built ranches from the dust up and eventually a synagogue.”
Pride colored his words. And how could it not, with such a rich family history? “My family still lives on the same property my great-great-grandfather staked more than a hundred and fifty years ago and worships in a new synagogue built on the original location. There’s a lot to be said about growing where you’re planted.”
Envy tugged at her heart. She’d grown where she was planted, yet her experience had been far different. Maybe because Catcher Creek’s population had never exploded like Santa Fe’s, but small-town life had smothered Jenna since she was old enough to notice that every single person she came across knew her name, her family history, and everything else about her—the good, the bad, and the ugly.
As she’d aged, she’d started noticing the ugly in other people too. The crime and the small-minded ignorance. The way people turned a blind eye to her mom’s depression and her dad’s gambling. Everyone stood aside and watched her family sink. And then after what happened to Carson . . . well, after that, there was no beauty left in Catcher Creek at all that Jenna could see.
She cleared the lump from her throat. “I had no idea the Jewish community had such deep roots to Santa Fe. That’s incredible.”
He scowled. “Sorry. You just told me you and Tommy were moving and then I put my foot in my mouth. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty for wanting to leave your hometown.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll always have roots and family in Catcher Creek. And
Matt was silent for a beat. Then, “Why do you have to leave?”
That was one secret she wasn’t prepared to divulge—not even to Matt. She’d tell Rachel. While Amy and Kellan were on their honeymoon, she’d sit Rachel down and explain every last sordid detail of the disaster that had brought about Jenna and Tommy’s need to move from Catcher Creek as soon as humanly possible.
Before Carson brought about the reckoning he’d threatened when he’d left.
But she wouldn’t tell Matt or Amy or anyone else. The fewer people who knew, the safer she and Tommy were, and in the end, that was all that mattered.
Time to throw one of Matt’s verbal U-turns back at him. “You mentioned at the saloon that most of your relatives live in the Santa Fe area. How many generations does your family go back in New Mexico?”
The quirk of his lips told her he knew exactly what she’d done. The question was, would he play along? He tapped the top of the gear shifter. It had to be killing the lawyer in him not to press her back to his topic of choice.
Finally, he nodded in acquiescence. “My great-great-grandfather on my dad’s side moved his family from Maryland and settled in the mountains outside of Santa Fe right before the Civil War broke out. He wanted everyone out of the line of fire without leaving the country altogether. I know that seems unpatriotic, like why didn’t he support the North and fight? But honestly, I’m not sure what I’d do in his position. Self-protection or sacrifice. It’s a complicated choice.”
Not for Jenna. She admired that kind of circling the wagons. Protecting family was her number-one mantra in life too. “I like the way your great-great-grandfather thought.”
“When my grandpa was alive, he used to tell stories about the pioneer days, as he called them. Stories passed down from his father. I loved hearing about how the Roenicks and the other families who made the trip with them transformed from mercantile factory workers into bona fide cowboys and cowgirls. They built ranches from the dust up and eventually a synagogue.”
Pride colored his words. And how could it not, with such a rich family history? “My family still lives on the same property my great-great-grandfather staked more than a hundred and fifty years ago and worships in a new synagogue built on the original location. There’s a lot to be said about growing where you’re planted.”
Envy tugged at her heart. She’d grown where she was planted, yet her experience had been far different. Maybe because Catcher Creek’s population had never exploded like Santa Fe’s, but small-town life had smothered Jenna since she was old enough to notice that every single person she came across knew her name, her family history, and everything else about her—the good, the bad, and the ugly.
As she’d aged, she’d started noticing the ugly in other people too. The crime and the small-minded ignorance. The way people turned a blind eye to her mom’s depression and her dad’s gambling. Everyone stood aside and watched her family sink. And then after what happened to Carson . . . well, after that, there was no beauty left in Catcher Creek at all that Jenna could see.
She cleared the lump from her throat. “I had no idea the Jewish community had such deep roots to Santa Fe. That’s incredible.”
He scowled. “Sorry. You just told me you and Tommy were moving and then I put my foot in my mouth. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty for wanting to leave your hometown.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll always have roots and family in Catcher Creek. And
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