by Jean Oram
Cole’s lips pursed slightly as though he might be considering the idea. He shifted his focus back to Brant. “She’s barely said a word to me.” He glanced back again when Jackie reentered the room.
Come to think of it, she had been quiet since Cole’s arrival, Brant realized. Earlier, she’d blasted into the Christmas dinner gathering like a storm, full of laughter and teasing. She’d given their great-uncle a ride over, and had hit the ditch in order to miss Bill, the neighborhood armadillo. Uncle Henry had been gruff and upset, but Jackie had shaken it all off with a smile and said she’d duct tape her car’s bumper back into place later.
“You’ve taken us all by surprise,” Brant said mildly, as Jackie collected drinking glasses in need of washing.
“You told me to come back,” Cole mumbled, his eyes still tracking her. “How could this be a surprise?”
“That was what? Eight months ago? Nine?” Had it really been that long since he’d flown all the way to Blueberry Springs in an attempt to convince Cole to return for their father’s June wedding?
Cole lifted his chin toward the Christmas tree, where Myles, Levi and their girlfriends were chatting with Carmichael and Uncle Henry. And the local mechanic, Clint Walker.
“What’s the story with Mom and Mr. Walker?”
“Clint? He and Mom have been spending some time together lately.”
Their mother had gone to Indigo Bay, South Carolina, a week ago, and so had Clint. Rumor was they’d gone on some dates, but Maria had come back upset and silent. Tonight, however, she was smiling widely. Was that because of Clint or Cole?
“I used to believe nothing ever changed around here,” Cole mused. “But now that I’ve been away, I see that everything has. Except you and your rescue complex.” He grinned at Brant, baiting him, ruffling his feathers. Brant had missed that. Almost.
He played his old card, the insulted younger brother. “Excuse me?”
“You know, saving the dog Bonkers when he broke his leg and dad wanted to put him down, taking in strays, rescuing Shelley St. Martin and now April.” He shrugged. “It’s not a bad thing.”
“I’m not rescuing April. She’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself.” Brant cringed internally. He was rescuing her, but it was because he cared and she’d found herself stuck.
And Shelley? Well, Brant had thought they’d found true love, but it turned out she’d just needed him to set her life back on its wheels so she could peel off into the sunset. April wasn’t going to peel off anywhere. She liked him for reasons beyond his ability to help her out of a jam.
Anyway, the growing rapport between himself and April differed from how things had been with Shelley. April’s kiss hadn’t been one of gratitude, but charged with attraction. Sweet, yes, but with an unexpected jolt of heat that made him want to kiss her again. And then some more, just to see what the follow-up kisses would be like.
Ryan and Carly entered from the kitchen, carrying bottles of his homemade brew. “Beer?” he offered, extending a selection clustered in his fingers.
“Thanks,” Brant said, carefully choosing a pale ale and avoiding the Lambic brew that his brother fermented using natural yeasts pulled from the ranch’s country air. It tasted as bad as the idea sounded. There might be a way to pull off the idea, but Ryan had yet to discover it.
Cole barely looked at the various choices, taking the closest bottle as April entered the room. Ryan and Brant shared a smirk as Cole uncapped a Lambic beer. Ryan continued the rounds, offering beverages to all. Brant noticed he’d brought out only one Lambic, which meant his prankster youngest brother was still up to his usual tricks.
Cole tracked April with his gaze as she cruised through the living room looking for dishes in need of washing. Brant’s own eyes lit on her and stayed. There was something about her that drew him in. Her strength and get-it-done attitude, her generous smiles and quick wit. She was an amazing mom, and an intuitive receptionist in his veterinarian clinic. He’d known her since she was five, and it still felt as though he was learning new things about her daily. He didn’t think that would ever stop.
“She’s, uh…curvier now,” Cole mused, as April disappeared into the kitchen.
“She’s sexy,” Brant growled, his fist tightening around his beer bottle. He liked her curves. Even more so because they were due to having the son she so clearly loved.
“Wow.” Cole appraised him, eyebrows raised, his free hand lifted in defense. “Thought you would have outgrown that thing you had for her.” Watching for Brant’s reaction, he raised the bottle of Ryan’s homemade beer to his lips. His face pinched with displeasure as he got a taste of it, and over by the tree, Ryan snickered.
Brant took a sip of his own carefully chosen pale ale and thanked karma for this small moment of triumph over his older brother. “She’s an amazing woman,” he said, feeling a tad smug.
“I know,” Cole replied.
“She’s getting her life together. It’s not a good time for you to come in and do your thing.”
“My thing?” Cole turned, squaring his shoulders to Brant’s as though ready to fight. “What makes you think I’ve come here to meddle in her life?”
“Haven’t you?”
“No, actually. I haven’t.” Cole’s posture shifted, so he was taking up more space. “And what’s your deal? You speak for her now? Make her decisions? She’s not going to like that, you know.”
“I don’t speak for her, and you know what I mean. You rip her up. You think you’re showing her a good time, but you don’t see her afterward. Anytime you go near her, there are pieces that need putting back together.”
Cole inhaled, his spine straightening. Brant thought for a second his brother might take a swing at him. Instead, Cole’s shoulders dropped, and he gave a slow nod of acceptance.
“She was never a good match for you,” Brant said, knowing he was pushing the limits, but needing his brother to grasp the fact that any chance he might think he had with April had disappeared when he’d left town.
“We had a lot of fun though.” Cole smiled, lifting the bottle to his lips before he thought twice and lowered it again.
“And that fun had consequences.”
“Kurt’s not mine. You know that.” There was a flash in Cole’s eyes. One that warned of an upcoming fight. Brant understood that Kurt wasn’t Cole’s, despite the odd rumor still swirling around town that he might be. To Brant it didn’t matter; he wasn’t fighting for April’s honor or anything that antiquated. She could do that herself. He was fighting for her. Period.
“Emotional consequences,” he said.
“You really think I’m here to stir things up?” Cole seemed hurt.
Brant didn’t answer.
“You know,” his brother said after a moment, “she just got divorced and is living in your house.”
“She’s not Shelley.”
“I didn’t say she was.” His voice was low. “But you realize you might be making your own pieces?”
“You think I’m a threat to her emotional well-being?” Brant struggled against the anger that rose within him like lava. He’d never been one to choose fists, but he found himself considering the ways he might take Cole, a fighter, down.
His brother shrugged, his steady gaze meeting Brant’s. “You break up her marriage to Heath?”
“Heath was a rebound relationship that went wrong,” Brant stated. There was a tightening of the jaw, nothing more. “You could have made things better if you hadn’t run. If you’d stayed. If you’d loved her enough to face your own fears.”
Cole’s nostrils flared. But he had obviously gotten better at holding some things in, letting others go. Five years before he’d nearly decked Brant for butting in and advising him to stay with April and help her through the pregnancy. Cole had shouted and fumed at Brant. The next day he’d been gone before dawn.
“You still think it would’ve been better for me to stay?” He was holding back anger, but the question in his eyes was rea
l. He wanted to know.
Brant stared at him, imagining a different future. One where Cole had stuck around and kept April from marrying Heath, preventing that mistake.
“No. Because if you’d stayed, I don’t think she would have become who she is today.” The woman he was falling for more and more with each passing day.
April hurried to get Kurt ready to go, thanking Maria for Christmas dinner as she did so. Less than ten minutes ago, Brant had walked Carmichael over to his house, the original homestead located just on the other side of the holly hedge, not more than a minute away. When he’d returned, he’d glanced around the room, seen her talking with Cole, who’d been trying to apologize for their past mistakes, then waved his cell phone in the air, saying he had to leave due to an animal emergency. She wasn’t sure if the family had seen through the fib, but she had. And not just because he wasn’t the veterinarian on call for his clinic tonight.
Something was going on with Brant, and she intended to find out what. She stepped into the dark, crisp December night, Myles, the middle Wylder brother, carrying a sleepy Kurt for her. Cattle were bellowing in a nearby pasture, a horse whinnying in one of the stables. Everything about outside sounded and felt like home.
As the door closed behind them, April caught sight of Brant standing beside his truck, which had the mobile veterinarian unit in back. He gave a small shrug, and she grinned.
“Didn’t think that one through, did you?” she teased. “Where ya gonna go, Wylder? It’s Christmas.”
A pang of guilt jabbed her. It was likely her fault he didn’t want to be in the house with his family right now. But it was also definitely her fault he was smiling as they met up in front of her SUV.
She opened the back door for Myles, who was still carrying Kurt, but he handed her son off to Brant.
“Faked another animal emergency?” Myles said kindly to his brother.
Brant’s lips twisted in a wry smile, and Myles chuckled under his breath. “Don’t blame you. That was no doubt awkward for the three of you.” He began walking back to the house, calling over his shoulder, “See y’all later.”
April’s cheeks warmed as Brant’s eyes met hers. Kurt snuggled in his arms as if he belonged there, and all she could think of was her son calling him Daddy Brant earlier in the day. All the Wylders were great with Kurt, but Brant was something else. His kindness extended from the animal world to the smallest human creatures, and they responded to him in a way that made her love him all the more.
Brant folded Kurt into his seat and buckled him up. By the time he was done, Myles was back in the house, leaving April and Brant alone.
They faced each other in the dim glow from the yard light, neither speaking.
“I was thinking,” April said.
He started to say at the same time, “I don’t want this to be…”
“You go first,” she told him, when he paused.
“No, ladies first.”
“Don’t give me that.” April propped her hands on her hips.
They stood in silence for another long moment.
“It’s something, having Cole come back, huh?” Brant said at last, and she sighed, wishing he’d expressed whatever was on his mind.
“I’m not ready.”
“For him to be home?” Brant shifted, almost as if he planned to go grab his brother by the collar and toss him out on his ear.
“For a relationship,” she blurted, swallowing over the lump that had appeared in her throat when she tried to add, “For us.”
There was a beat of silence, but it wasn’t that comfortable pause they’d known as teens, when they could sit by the creek and watch the water tumble over the rocks for hours, picking up threads of conversation here and there. They’d been happy to speak, happy to remain silent. Back then it was as though time slowed down to the pace of a butterfly fluttering past. Today it felt like it was racing by.
“Yeah, sorry,” Brant said. “I got confused.”
“Confused?”
“I got caught up in the whole rescue thing. You know how I do that. Thinking things are real, but it’s just gratitude.” He hadn’t stepped away, but stood there calmly, his gaze steady on her lips, as though wishing she’d correct him.
“Yeah, me too,” she replied, feeling breathless, knowing this was the conversation she’d wanted to have. To fix things. To set parameters so this didn’t crash and burn on them. She was leaning close, and his hand, strong from hard work, rested on her hip. “I got confused, too. I’m trying to change.”
“Why?”
“I’m trying to be independent so you don’t have to rescue me anymore. I want to meet you halfway, so that whatever this is works. For real.” A frantic feeling clawed its way up inside her again at the thought of getting things wrong, of losing control of what felt important between them.
He shifted closer. “Halfway?”
The frantic sensation slowly eased. Brant was the one man who would never deny her whatever it was she needed in order to be whole. Her voice was small when she asked, “Will you wait for me to be ready?”
His forehead lowered to hers as they sighed in unison, their breath creating misty clouds that melted away like her resolve often did. Both his hands were on her waist now, her own resting against his chest.
“That way when we get together we’ll know you’re not rescuing me.” Her lips were near his, their bodies shifting, bringing them close enough to kiss.
He gave a small hum of agreement.
“We won’t start nasty rumors, either,” she added.
“I can handle them.” His focus was taut, zeroed in on her mouth, and her heart lifted and opened.
“I know, but I’m trying to save you from the full April MacFarlane experience.”She was up on her tiptoes now, gripping his jacket in her hands.
“Why would you do that? I like her,” he murmured.
“She’s a mess.”
“Maybe I like messes.”
She slid her arms across his shoulders, embracing him, savoring the sensation of having her body pressed against his. “You enjoy cleaning them up.”
“Especially when it involves something like this.”
His lips lowered to hers in a long, sweet kiss that left April breathless and wondering why on earth she had ever thought waiting was a good idea.
The next kiss was hungry, with a passion and heat building and growing until they finally broke apart, panting.
“Oh,” she whispered. “Wow.” She slowly stepped away, her fingers pressed to her lips. She had never been kissed like that, with such sureness and fire.
Brant had her back in his arms in a heartbeat, and they angled their mouths, kissing deeper.
This? This was going to be amazing.
“That’s what we’re waiting for,” Brant said at last, breaking the embrace and putting distance between them again.
April had never been so impatient in all her life.
3
Sitting behind the large reception desk at Call of the Wyld(er), Brant’s veterinarian clinic, April was filing the morning’s animal medical records when the bell above the door jingled. Her friend Jackie entered, wearing such a gigantic grin that April wondered if Cole had asked her out. The two would make a great couple, their lively personalities well suited for each other.
“So?” Jackie asked meaningfully, leaning against the tall counter in front of April’s desk.
“Hi y’all!” Her ponytail swinging, cup of coffee from the diner in hand, Jenny Oliver entered. “I saw Jackie come in.” The owner of the Blue Tumbleweed clothing shop smiled at them, obviously ready to swap holiday gossip.
“What’s the latest chatter out there?” April asked cautiously. She had a feeling the best scuttlebutt would be about her, and her friends were here to get the truth straight from the horse’s mouth.
“Maria and Clint are an item,” Jenny offered.
April and Jackie nodded.
“And Cole came home for you.” Jenny looked
at April.
“I heard she kissed Brant,” Jackie exclaimed. She turned to face April, rapping her pink nails on the countertop. “Cole asked you back?”
“No,” April declared, with enough disgust that her friends frowned. “Sorry, but no. Neither of us are going down that path again.”
“Because Brant kissed you?” Jackie asked, a hopeful tone lifting her voice.
April rolled her eyes, knowing her cheeks were glowing. The first kiss by the Christmas tree had been brief and sweet, and yet somehow unlike anything else. But then the ones later that night? The ones Brant said were to show her what she was waiting for?
Those were the subject of fantasies.
Brant’s kisses weren’t a demand. They were indescribable. They didn’t take; they didn’t strip a woman dry. They were magical, healing and addictive.
She needed to think about something else, because the way those kisses were still burning through her system like a drug was sure to be obvious to the women on the other side of the counter.
But in the three days since Christmas, she and Brant hadn’t kissed. Not once.
They’d agreed that wouldn’t happen, because she’d asked him to wait.
What had she been thinking?
She cleared her throat, strengthened her resolve and said, “I’m not ready for a relationship.” She lowered her voice, glancing at the door behind her that led to the surgery, where Brant was fixing a dog’s torn dew claw. “So, just… You know…”
Donna Nestner, the mayor’s wife, entered the clinic, the doorway bell ringing. “Howdy, gals! How was your Christmas? I heard yours was merry, with a little kissing under the mistletoe with two different Wylders.” She winked at April.
Jackie shot April an innocent look, as if to say it hadn’t been her starting the rumors.
“Not true.” April sighed as the other women shared doubtful glances.
“What can I get for you today?” she asked Donna.
“Just some of that doggie toothpaste. Munchkin has tartar buildup again,” she replied, referring to her triplets’ pet.
