Awakened

by HELEN HARDT

  Nothing can hurt me here.

  “They won’t hurt you again, Donny.”

  My baby brother clings to me, tears streaking down his cheeks.

  “I swear to you. They won’t hurt you again. I won’t let them.”

  I mean the words with all my heart, but they are ultimately a promise I can’t keep. I mouth off to our captors, bite them and kick them, all so they’ll punish me instead of my brother.

  Sometimes it works, and I pay the price. I go through hell to spare him.

  Sometimes it doesn’t work, though, and I’m forced to watch my little brother be used and tortured, forced to hear his screams.

  “Close your eyes, Donny. Close your eyes. Think of something nice. Think of a dog or a flower. Anything.”

  I don’t know if my words help him. They don’t help me. As much as I try to escape into my mind while the masked men do the unthinkable to my little body, I’m never successful.

  Someday, though. Someday we’ll get out.

  Someday I’ll make the monsters pay.

  I awake with a jerk.

  The dream changes, but it’s always a scene from the horror of those two months.

  This is why I began sleeping out here in the first place. To help combat the dreams. The dreams never go away, though they only come one or two times a week now instead of every night. But the vineyards calm me. Enshroud me as if they’re protecting me from the horrors of my past.

  So long ago now.

  I never got to make the monsters pay. They’ve been dead and buried for decades now, and the trafficking ring has been long since exposed and broken up.

  My life has been wonderful for the last twenty-five years. I never forget that, never forget how much I owe my mother and father for adopting Donny and me.

  My father especially. He gets me. He always has. I’m not sure why, but he does. What a hard thing, to adopt two troubled boys who’d been abducted and horribly abused and on top of that had lost their mother.

  My parents are our saviors. Donny and I make sure they never forget that.

  Even now, I sometimes wonder why they did it. My dad and Uncle Ry rescued us, got us away from the horror, but they didn’t have to make a lifetime commitment.

  I’ve asked my father many times, and his answer is always the same.

  Because I could give you what you needed.

  He has. He gave me a home, a family, food to eat, and all the money in the world. But he could have given any child those same things.

  Why Donny?

  And why me?

  Because I could give you what you needed.

  A home? Check. A mother and father? Check. Therapy? Check. Many others could have given us that much. Maybe not such a lavish home, but a home nonetheless.

  My father’s words have a hidden meaning. I’m sure of it. I’ve asked Aunt Mel, but she always says I need to ask my father. And when I do, the words are always the same.

  Because I could give you what you needed.

  My father hides behind his words. There’s something he’s not telling me. I always thought he’d come clean once I hit adulthood, but I’m thirty-five now, and he hasn’t.

  Thirty-five—the same age he was when Donny and I came here.

  Our lives have come full circle, it seems.

  I check my phone. I was only asleep for a half hour. Funny that I can go into a dream state so quickly, but it sometimes happens that way.

  Diana and Ashley are probably in the hot tub, finishing the sparkling wine and chattering about who knows what.

  The stars above are shining down upon them as they are on me.

  And suddenly the world seems small.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ashley

  “Your brother is a tough nut to crack,” I say to Diana after finishing my flute of champagne—err, sparkling wine.

  “I was wondering how long it would take for you to bring him up.” Dee laughs. “It’s been nearly a half hour since we got in the tub.”

  “He’s…”

  He’s…what? Magnificent to look at? He is, but he’s her brother. She doesn’t think of him that way. He’s brilliant? She already knows that. He’s a rude pain in the ass? She may not know that, but it’s hardly something a sister wants to hear about a big brother she adores.

  I finally decide on, “…interesting.”

  “He’s just a loner. You’ll get used to it.”

  “He pretty much told me I’m not needed here. He thinks this internship is a waste of his time.”

  “Yeah, he made that pretty clear. I’m sorry about that.”

  “Why is your uncle forcing him to work with me, then? Why doesn’t he work with me himself or assign someone else?”

  Diana wrinkles her forehead. “Honestly? I don’t know. Uncle Ry must have something up his sleeve.”

  “Dale told me his uncle said he needs to improve his people skills.”

  Diana spits her mouthful of wine into the tub. “Shit! Sorry about that.”

  “No problem. I’ve always wanted to bathe in champagne. Fuck! Sparkling wine! Why do I keep doing that? I’m an oenologist, for God’s sake.”

  “Dale actually told you that?”

  “He did, and I told him he had to actually have people skills in the first place to improve them.”

  “Oh my God. What did he say to that?”

  What had he said? Something about having plenty of people skills but only using them when necessary. Hell, I was so enamored with the sound and color of his voice, some of it’s a blur. “He defended himself, of course.”

  “Of course.” Diana reaches for a bottle of water and swallows a long drink.

  “The funny thing is, I know I can learn a lot from your brother. Already he’s showing me I need to be more specific in my language and particularly in my tasting notes.”

  “Oh, yeah. Dale’s always been precise. It’s a pet peeve of his when things are too vague.”

  “Obviously. But I need to watch myself. I’m almost a doctor of oenology, and I’m using the word champagne as a blanket term. I fucking know better, Dee.”

  “Why do you do it, then?”

  “I don’t know. Laziness?”

  “You’re hardly lazy, Ash.”

  She’s right. I’m not lazy. I work hard. “Just in language, I guess. And language is very important to a sommelier. If I can’t adequately describe the wines I taste, how can I convince a diner to purchase them?”

  “So you’re not a writer. Not many are.”

  “But I need to be. Tasting notes are written, and they have to be precise.”

  “Then you’re in the right place. Dale will teach you precision better than any wine professor.”

  I smile. “I have a feeling you’re right. I just wish…”

  “What?”

  “I wish you weren’t leaving.” I shake my head. “That sounds so self-absorbed.”

  “It’s not optimal for your situation,” she says. “I get that.”

  “You have to go, though. Dale’s right.”

  “I know. Thanks for understanding.”

  I sigh. “I do. And usually I’m fine around people I don’t know. Just being here…”

  “My parents are great, and Dale doesn’t live here. You won’t have to see him at home, just at work.”

  True words.

  Problem? I want to see Dale. I want to… I want everything from Dale Steel. Crazy, yes. But no less true.

  His voice is a drug to me, but it’s more than that. So much more that I can’t even put into words yet.

  That kiss…

  It happened hours ago, and my lips are still tingling.

  Diana and I haven’t known each other long, but we’ve done our share of dishing about men and other stuff. Normally, I’d tell her about the kiss.

  But it seems too…private.

  Not because Dale is her brother, but because…

  Because…I don’t know why. The kiss, even though it lasted seconds, seemed so personal. />
  Not like a simple kiss at all but like… Dare I think it? Like making love. Like the most personal thing you can do with another.

  All this coming from me. Ashley White. The queen of sex and one-nighters. I love sex for sex. The feelings, the colors, the scents, the sounds. All of it flows together with me, and sex with each person is different. I’ve been with countless men and even a few women. All sex, and though I felt something different with each one, the feelings were only about the sex, not the person.

  That’s why Dale’s kiss was so different. The feeling was almost…

  It isn’t about the kiss so much as it’s about…him.

  Dale Steel.

  A man I’ve known for less than a day.

  Dale Steel won’t fall into bed with me like most men. No, he’ll take time.

  And for the first time in a long time, I’m willing to wait.

  “You still with me?”

  I jerk at Diana’s words. “Yeah.”

  “Good. You seemed like you were somewhere else for a minute. Are you getting light-headed? We can get out of the tub.”

  I’m not light-headed. Well, maybe I am, but the tub isn’t the culprit. “I’m fine.”

  “Good. We keep it below a hundred degrees so we can stay in a long time if we keep hydrated.” She raises her bottle of water.

  I drain half a bottle as well. Then, “When are you leaving?”

  “I need to be in Denver by Monday. So Sunday, I guess.”

  Today is Friday. Two days to get to know Talon and Jade Steel well enough that I’m comfortable living in their home without Diana.

  “When does your sister go back to college?” I ask.

  “She leaves Sunday as well.”

  Great. Just me and the parents. And Dale Steel about half a mile away.

  I gaze at the pathway leading to the guesthouse. He’s not there, of course. He’s sleeping in the vineyards. Such a riddle, that one.

  “It won’t be so bad,” Diana continues. “Your internship officially starts on Monday, and that will keep you busy. You’ll hardly know I’m gone.”

  “I’ll know.” I force a smile. “But I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I won’t, because I know you’ll be okay. My parents will make you feel more than welcome. You’ll probably get sick of my mother fawning all over you. She’s such a mother hen.”

  Living in this place is a dream. I get it. A far cry from growing up homeless in the tent cities of San Francisco.

  Diana doesn’t know about my childhood, how hard my own mother worked to give me a life. How hard I worked to get scholarships to college and then grad school.

  My mother lives in a modest apartment in LA now, after scraping together enough money to get us off the streets and to put herself through beauty school. She often gives me shit about the wine business. In a loving way, of course. I suppose it is strange that a little homeless girl grew up wanting to learn about wine, which is one of life’s luxuries. During those hard years, luxuries of any kind were foreign to us. We were happy if we didn’t have to go to sleep hungry.

  How she got us out of tent city is a worthy story, but not one I feel like sharing with Diana. At least not yet. She grew up in luxury. She won’t get it.

  Honestly, very few people in my life know about my childhood. It doesn’t come up, and parts of it are best forgotten.

  But Dale…

  For the first ten years of his life, he didn’t live here. What’s his story? Diana told me all she knows, assuming she’s being honest.

  Who knows? Will he ever let me in? Will we finish that kiss?

  I have no idea, but I do know one thing.

  I have three months to find out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dale

  The blue-and-gold sunrise…

  Always so perfect.

  Mornings in Colorado are almost always cloudless. Sometimes we awake to clouds or rain, but not often. We have over three hundred days per year of sunshine. Works pretty darned well for dry farming. I sit up and give Penny a pet on her soft head.

  To be awakened at dawn by the beauty and warmth of the sun rising over the Rockies. Is anything better than this?

  Kissing Ashley…

  That was pretty damned awesome.

  Better than waking up to the sunrise?

  A tie, maybe?

  Fuck.

  I have to be honest with myself.

  Kissing Ashley was the best thing I’ve felt in a long time. Which is damned scary. Because I let her in—told her personal things about me. Not only that, she sensed my relationship with the vines. She knew.

  How do I combat that? How do I combat her?

  I’ll keep our relationship professional. I work with a lot of women, and I don’t have a problem staying professional even when I find one of them attractive.

  No reason Ashley White should be any different.

  I stuff my sleeping bag into its sack. Time for some coffee. Penny and I head down to my truck and drive home. Normally I go straight to work, where coffee is always brewing, but today is Saturday, and no one’s in the office. A half hour later, I pull into the driveway, and Penny and I head into the house.

  “Hungry, girl?” I grab her bowl in the kitchen, fill it, and set it on the floor. Then I freshen her water.

  I don’t always take Penny with me to the vineyards when I spend the night out there. Sometimes she lies on her fluffy dog bed and refuses to leave the house with me. Such a little diva.

  Now, coffee. I start a pot and grab a frying pan to fix some bacon and eggs. I open my refrigerator…

  Shit. Out of bacon. And eggs. Such is the bachelor life. I guess I’m heading into Snow Creek for groceries today. Once the coffee’s done, I pour myself a cup, give Penny a pet—she’s already lounging on her dog bed—and walk over to the main house. I’ll have breakfast there today.

  My dad is already up, of course. We ranch people rise early.

  “Hey, Dad.” I walk through the back door and into the kitchen.

  He laughs. “Out of eggs again?”

  “And bacon.”

  Darla stands at the stove frying both. “I’ve got you covered, Mr. Dale.”

  “Thanks, Darla.”

  “You’re in a good mood,” Dad says. “You must have slept outside last night.”

  “Guilty.” I sit down next to him and finish my coffee.

  Darla pours me another. A few minutes later, two plates of fried eggs, bacon, and hash browns appear before us.

  “Thanks, Darla,” Dad and I say in unison.

  “Have you heard Dee’s good news?” I ask.

  “Yeah. She texted us while we were at Uncle Joe’s last night. Apparently she and Ashley were celebrating in the hot tub. Mom and I are thrilled for her.”

  “She actually thought about not going.”

  Dad lifts his eyebrows, his coffee mug halfway to his lips. “What?”

  “Yeah. Because of Ashley.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “She felt bad about leaving Ashley here without her.” I shake my head. “I talked her out of that, thank God.”

  “I guess it makes sense. She feels some responsibility toward her friend.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call them friends. From what I understand, they only just met at the beginning of the summer. They sat next to each other at Uncle Ry’s lecture at UCLA.”

  “Still, I see her point.” Dad takes a sip of coffee. “I’m glad you talked her out of it, though. She was so upset when she didn’t get that internship, and now she has it. Plus, Donny’s in Denver, so she won’t be alone.”

  “Neither Dee nor Donny have any problem fitting in wherever they go,” I say, “but it is nice that they’ll have each other.”

  Dad nods. We both know what he’s not saying. Dee and Donny may not have trouble assimilating, but I do. I’ve never been comfortable anywhere but here—and here sometimes doesn’t work either.

  Quiet for a few moments.

&
nbsp; Until I finally say, “I’m fine.”

  “I know, son.”

  “I like it here. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

  “I know,” he says again.

  More quiet. Then—

  “I was a lot like you once,” Dad says. “Reliant only on myself. Afraid to get close to anyone else. Your mother changed all that for me. You know, I was your age when she and I met.”

  I clear my throat. “Yeah, Dad. I know.”

  “I didn’t give much thought to anyone but myself.”

  “Wait a minute. I’m not—”

  He gestures for me to stop. “I’m not saying you’re selfish. You’re not, Dale. Not at all. You’d do anything for any one of us. I know that. I wasn’t selfish either. I’d have taken a bullet for any of my siblings. Still would. But I didn’t rely on them. I didn’t let myself get close to them.”

  “I’m close to Donny and the girls. I always have been.”

  Dad sighs. “I’m not explaining this very well.”

  “Just because you found your soul mate at my age doesn’t mean the same thing’s in the cards for me.”

  It absolutely isn’t. I don’t believe in soul mates, first of all. Besides, is being self-reliant such a bad thing? I open my mouth to ask when—

  “Good morning!” Ashley walks into the kitchen, like a ray of sunshine.

  Did I really just think that? In those stupid words?

  Fuck.

  “Good morning, Ashley,” Dad says. “You’re up early.”

  “I’ve always been an early riser.”

  Darla scurries over. “Coffee, Miss Ashley?”

  “I don’t drink coffee, but thanks.”

  Just how is she so chipper in the morning without coffee?

  “Orange juice, then?”

  “You read my mind,” she gushes.

  Yeah, such a California girl. And who the hell doesn’t drink coffee? We were raised on coffee. My mom makes the strongest and best-tasting coffee in the world. She personally teaches all our cooks to brew the perfect pot.

  Darla pours her a glass of juice and sets it in front of her. “Not hand squeezed, I’m afraid. That’s probably what you’re used to in California.”