by A. J. Pine
Walker straightened and dropped the bat to his side as Jack let the next pitch fly. It was right over the plate, maybe a little on the low side but a strike nonetheless. Unfortunately, Walker was now standing over the plate, too, and the ball hammered him straight in the gut.
He went down hard, landing flat on his back, the wind knocked clear from his lungs. He thought he heard his brother swear, but he was spending most of his energy both trying to catch his breath and trying not to vomit.
When he could finally see straight, he caught sight of Jack standing above him, his hand outstretched.
Walker reached for it, letting his brother pull him up.
“What the hell were you doing?” Jack asked.
Walker coughed. He pressed a palm to his torso and tried to straighten up. But it hurt too much at the moment to do so.
“I was thinking about how the hell to do what you said—to make things right with Violet. Can’t you tell when a guy is pausing to think?” He pulled his shirt up to find a baseball-shaped welt forming on his skin right between his ribs.
Jack shook his head and laughed. “If that’d been a fastball, I’d have been calling nine-one-one.”
Walker gritted his teeth. “Sure felt like a fastball.”
Jack looked him up and down. “You sleep in the stable last night?” he asked, finally acknowledging Walker’s less-than-stellar appearance.
“Cleaned it this morning,” Walker said. “Then took Cleo for a ride and found you.” He could almost stand straight now.
“How about you come by the ranch for a shower and lunch. And we can figure out how to fix this Violet Chastain situation.”
But Walker already knew how to fix it. He had to leave her be and not get her tangled up in his mess any more than he already had.
“I could eat,” he said. “But there’s nothing needs doing about Violet. She’s better off without me messing things up for her. She’ll focus on work, and so will I. It won’t be an issue.”
Jack cleared his throat. “You’ve been selling those pieces you make at the market, huh?”
Walker nodded. He didn’t think his brother paid much attention to his little side business.
“Been putting away some extra cash,” he admitted.
“You want to tell me what for?” Jack asked.
Walker figured now was as good a time as any. “I’m leaving, too. Gonna take off for a while after the wedding,” he said, finally putting some truth out there. “Sam and Ben are putting together a crew to help them build a ranch up north. Sam offered me a spot, and I took it.”
Jack stared at him for a long moment. “I see,” he finally said.
“That’s how I’m gonna handle her leaving. It’s how I’m going to handle all my goddamn ghosts. They’re all here, Jack.”
“So’s your family,” his brother said.
“And you’ll be here when I get back. It’s not forever,” he said. “I know this means you won’t be able to keep tabs on me twenty-four/seven, but shit, Jack. You got your distance. Now I need mine. I’m either gonna drink or I’m not, whether you’re watching my back or I’m six hours away.”
Jack gave his brother a slow nod. “I can’t fault you for needing to put some distance between yourself and Oak Bluff. But if you don’t answer my calls or texts, I will have Cash call the local authorities and drag you out of bed just to make sure you’re okay.”
Walker laughed. “Seems like a waste of taxpayer money, doesn’t it?”
Jack raised a brow. “If you don’t want that on your conscience, you know what to do.”
“Noted,” Walker said.
“I’ll clean up here and meet you back at the house.” Jack clapped his brother on the back, and Walker choked out a breath.
“Hey,” he said to Jack. “Injured man, here. Take it easy.”
Jack laughed. “Not a chance, little brother. But I’ll always be a phone call away when easy feels too far to reach. Don’t forget that.”
Then he walked away and started collecting the scattered baseballs.
Walker knew what his brother meant, and maybe now Jack understood that here in Oak Bluff, easy might always be beyond Walker’s grasp. But the distance he needed wasn’t from Jack or Luke or Jenna. He was starting to understand that now—after a fastball to the gut. He didn’t need to let go of his family. Putting a few hundred miles between himself and this place, though—it was the only way he’d be able to let go of the past.
Chapter Nineteen
After what she privately referred to as the incident, Violet got used to seeing Walker around town and treating him as nothing more than an acquaintance. After both of them admitted in their own frightened way that what they had was real, they’d taken a gigantic step backward and were now almost strangers. He hadn’t offered her any more of an explanation about that night, and she certainly wasn’t chasing him down for one. Their time was up, but she still had work to do before heading to Paris.
Last Tuesday, when she was at the bakery eating a chocolate croissant and reading up on the French doctor who would facilitate her mom’s treatment, Walker ran in for his morning coffee. When she went to the market on Thursday night to pick out cheese and fruit to pair with Friday’s wine tasting, there was Walker shopping for what looked like dinner for one. She’d smiled and said hi. He’d said hi back. And that was how it went—their foray into acquaintanceship, which she guessed was better than pretending the other didn’t exist.
Who was she kidding? The whole situation was crap. It wasn’t just that he hadn’t apologized for that night he was sick. It was that she’d been falling for the man, and now the two of them couldn’t even hold a conversation.
Today, after almost two weeks of short, minute-long encounters, they were stuck together staining shelves for the gift shop portion of the winery.
They worked outside in the hot, late-April sun.
Violet wore a black cotton tank and a pair of old jeans. Her thick dark hair was pulled into two French braids, which meant she couldn’t hide behind her hair when she felt him looking at her—or when she wanted to look back.
Walker had a green bandanna tied around his forehead to catch the sweat, not that his T-shirt wasn’t already damp. And hell if he wasn’t sexy as ever like that—even if he was still an asshole.
“This probably isn’t what you signed up for being a wine expert and all, was it?” he finally asked, surprising her by being the first one to break the silence.
Her back was to him as she stained a shelf atop his makeshift workbench.
“Right now, a paycheck is a paycheck, so I’m not complaining,” she said.
“You going to the family dinner thing at Lily’s tonight? I know you’re not officially family, but Lily sort of considers everyone she knows as one of her own. I do remember you owing her a rain check,” he said.
Her heart tugged at his line of questioning. It sounded almost like he wanted her to be at the dinner. And what if she was? Would they talk? Would things finally change between them?
And why was she overthinking a question as meaningless as him asking her what she was doing for dinner? They hadn’t spoken in two weeks. He was making idle small talk. There was no way he truly cared what her answer was going to be.
She stopped staining midstroke and paused before turning to face him.
She smiled at him, but it felt forced. Because it was. There was nothing good about what she had to say.
“Are you okay?” he asked, setting his own brush down and looking at her like she was hurt or something.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice coming out a higher pitch than normal. “Totally, yeah. I’m, um, not going to make it to Lily’s tonight, though. Guess my rain check still stands.”
His brows drew together. “So, she did invite you, and you said no?”
She nodded. “It was really sweet of her. Oak Bluff is starting to feel like a second home, you know? But I sort of already have plans.” She held his gaze for a moment longer, then turned
back to staining her shelf.
Walker, however, did not. He pushed the issue further.
“Other plans?” he asked. “Here in town?”
It was none of his business. She knew he knew that. Didn’t stop him from asking or from waiting for her to respond.
She put her brush down and spun back in his direction, forcing herself to smile again.
“What are we now, Walker? Friends? I mean, we’re being friendly enough to each other, and no one’s throwing anyone out of his or her apartment, right?” she said, wishing she could swallow the words as soon as they left her mouth. “Anyway, friends can tell each other things without getting the other friend upset because this is how things are now that we’re friends, right?”
He scratched at the back of his neck. “You just said friend four times in one sentence.”
“Actually, it was two sentences. But duly noted.”
Walker crossed his arms. “You can tell me whatever you want to tell me, Teach.”
Her expression softened, and she let out a breath.
Teach. Why did he have to call her that when she wanted to stay angry at him, when she wanted the words she was about to say not to mean anything, but they already did to her.
“I have—a date.”
It took a few seconds for her words to register. But then it was like she saw the thought bubble pop above his head.
A date. Pop.
“Walker?” she asked. “Everything okay?”
He was clenching his teeth, and his expression looked nowhere in the realm of friendly.
“I’m great,” he said. “I’m great and you’re going on a date.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Look at that. I’m a goddamn poet.”
“Walker—” she started, but he waved her off.
“It’s all good,” he said, his brush still in his hand. He turned back to his shelf, but this time she was the one not to turn back to hers. “I hope he treats you right, whoever it is. You deserve a hell of a lot better than—I mean, you deserve to be treated right, Violet. Period.”
Despite the sincerity in his words, she watched as he dipped his brush in the can of stain and swept it back and forth across his shelf, his teeth clenched.
“It’s Sam Callahan,” she said, remembering Walker’s reaction when she first met Sam at the market. “He and his brother Ben have been working on the remodel at the B and B all week, and we got to talking the other day. He asked if he could take me to dinner, and I said yes. You’re okay with it, right? Because there’s obviously nothing going on with us anymore. Unless there is something you want to talk about.”
The thing was, though, that despite how cute Sam was and how easy he was to talk to, he was the one who felt more like a friend, and Walker still felt—confusing.
“Sam’s a good man,” he said.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “He is. He told me he and his brother are heading up north soon. Anyway, it’s just a date. Nothing serious.”
Walker nodded. “Their family boarded horses when Sam and Ben were growing up. Parents split and their mom moved up that way with her new husband. Dad got hit with early signs of Alzheimer’s, so they stayed around here, built up their own business, and took care of him.”
“Oh,” she said. “That’s sad. And also kinda sweet that they took care of him. Is he—I mean, you said took.”
“There’s a real good facility near the land where they’re building the ranch. Once they sell off the horses they’ll get him settled there.”
“I guess we all have our stories, huh?” Violet blew out a long breath. “Sounds like he’s a real good guy. Thank you for telling me all that.”
“You’re welcome.”
She took a step closer, then reached for his hand and gave it a soft squeeze.
She felt his muscles tense.
“Maybe one day you’ll tell me your story,” she said. “As easily as you told me his.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Walker cleared his throat, and she let his hand go. She watched as he opened and closed his fist, wondering if he was trying to erase her touch as much as she was trying to remember his. Maybe she was letting him off too easily, not demanding an explanation for his frightening behavior. But she also knew that whatever the reason, it was eating at him. She could see it in the set of his jaw, in the tightness in his shoulders. He’d needed space, and she’d barged right back into his apartment. Maybe this would finally heal things between them, her giving him the distance he needed.
They turned away from each other then, back to their respective workbenches.
“You mind if I put on some music?” she called to him. “I always work better with music.”
“Fine by me,” he called back.
A few seconds later the opening of “Cowboy Take Me Away” blared from her phone, and she sang along to it like she did at the karaoke bar that night, telling herself that she was okay with the way things were between them now.
It was a good enough lie. The truth was that she still wanted to know every part of him, even if his story was a painful one.
But she deserved more than he was offering. She figured they’d gotten as far as they’d get.
So she stained her shelves and sang along to everything from country to pop to soulful R & B. Every now and then she snuck a glance over her shoulder just to look at him. And every now and then she caught him sneaking a glance right back.
Maybe he wouldn’t be the cowboy to take her away from it all. But she could still wish he might have been.
When Walker was too restless to relax that night, he worked on every available project he had in the apartment—the rocking chair, an end table he’d been commissioned to make for the sheriff’s mother and her new husband, a few more shelves he needed to sand before taking them to the winery to stain. But his concentration was shit. And he was too wired to sleep. He needed to get out of his confined space, needed air to clear his head. The next thing he knew, he was crossing from Lucinda’s back lot into that of the Oak Bluff Bed and Breakfast until he’d made it clear to the other side. He’d barely been there two minutes before he heard the familiar authoritative cadence of Sheriff Cash Hawkins’s voice.
“Sir, please step out where I can see you with your hands in the air.”
A blindingly bright light shone on the cordoned off construction zone at the bed-and-breakfast’s side lot. Walker stepped out and around the tarped-off hole in the B and B’s kitchen wall—hands raised—where he’d been inspecting the Callahan’s demo work as well as the start of their building out the walls.
“Just me, Sheriff,” he said, having recognized Cash’s voice.
A dog barked.
“Can you make sure Dixie isn’t gonna chew an arm off or something if I step any closer?”
Cash lowered the floodlight and clicked it off. Then he dropped to a squat to give his German shepherd a scratch behind the ears.
“It’s okay, girl. It’s only Walker being an idiot.” The sheriff stood to face him again. “Jesus, Everett. What the hell are you doing snooping around at ten thirty at night? Olivia was grabbing us a bottle of wine and saw a shadow through the tarp. She swore she was about to be robbed or worse. She was already nervous living with a busted open wall, but now you’ve gone and scared her half to death, which means instead of being inside on my night off with my girl, I’m out here wondering why in the hell you’re snooping around a construction site you’re not working on.”
Walker looked Cash up and down, realizing the sheriff was wearing a B and B robe over a pair of sweatpants.
“Nice outfit, Sheriff.”
“Careful, Everett. I can still arrest you.”
The two men and Dixie made their way onto the sidewalk and then the lit porch of the B and B’s entrance.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Walker said. “So I thought I’d come check out the progress. Didn’t mean to scare anyone. Olivia the only one on duty tonight?”
Cash crossed his arms. “Tell me this isn’t about a girl.”
The B and B’s front door flew open to reveal Olivia Belle—also in a fluffy white robe.
“Did you find the attacker or robber or whoever it was? Did you have to call for backup? What is Walker Everett doing here?”
Cash nodded in Walker’s direction. “Here you go, darlin’. Your ruthless attacker. Says he couldn’t sleep so he wanted to see how the Callahans were doing with the restaurant addition.”
Olivia narrowed her gaze, looking Walker up and down as she noticeably took in his attire, a solid black button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and his cleanest looking pair of jeans. “Why are you dressed so nice to rob me?”
Walker rolled his eyes. “I’m not here to rob or attack anyone. I’ve been working with Sam and Ben on the winery. Wanted to stop by and see how they were doing over here.”
Olivia tapped her index finger on her pursed lips as she seemed to puzzle something out. Then her eyes widened.
“You were checking up on Violet!” she gasped, and turned her focus to Cash. “See? I told you there was still something going on there. She said they were just friends now, but I didn’t buy it. Not after that kiss two weeks ago.” She shook her head. “You don’t think I forgot about that kiss, do you? I had a front row seat! Plus I’ve noticed a lingering tension with you two like I did when Lily and Luke claimed they wanted nothing to do with each other. I have a knack for these things, you know.”
Cash groaned. “And apparently it’s rubbing off on me. Look, Everett. I don’t like getting involved in anyone’s business, especially when it comes to—to matters of the heart. But like it or not, I’ve got a personal stake in the matter. You and your brothers are as close as it comes to having brothers of my own.”
Walker huffed out a bitter laugh. “That why you arrested me and locked me up New Year’s Eve or why you came banging on my door telling me you don’t trust me to stay sober? Hell of a way to treat family.”
