“Well, a warm body in your bed might help. When’s the last time you had a date, anyway?”
She thought for a moment, embarrassed that she had to scan so many memories to find it. “Sometime between grad school and that apartment I had over on Fifth.”
“You mean the one you moved out of seven years ago?”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“Please. I know for a fact you’ve had more recent love interests than that. Are you forgetting Joshua?”
Kinsley frowned. That fling had been very short and unpleasant and was still more than two years ago. “I was trying to, actually.”
“My point is, sweetie, you have been giving so much of yourself to everyone for so long now that you haven’t done anything to live for yourself. Time to get off the road and back on the horse.”
“I’m having trouble following your mixed metaphors.” Kinsley put her empty glass on the table next to her and glanced at the minibar, wondering if another glass would be too much.
“No, you’re not. You know exactly what I’m saying, Miss I’m-a-Famous-Writer-Who-Takes-Cares-of-Everyone-in-the-World-Except-Herself.” As the mother of three, all under the age of ten, Carley just couldn’t help sounding like a scolding mom. She and her husband John had been in love since their pacifiers had been taken from them. She often told Kinsley that living an alternate life vicariously through her kept her from running away to join the circus. Kinsley knew better—Carley was still absolutely crazy about John, and she was a fierce defender of their three children.
“Yeah, well, I’ll try to pencil in a life for myself sometime within the next century.”
She caught Carley up on the last few book signing events and her unmapped plan to spend some time in her homeland in Tennessee to build a richer treasury of memories of her family. After another lecture from her best friend about how she needed to have her own life and dive back into the dating pool, Kinsley hung up her phone and looked down at her laptop, deciding she would start tomorrow when she was more rested. Then she turned off the bedside lamp and settled further into the pillows. She closed her eyes and did not open them again until the sun was high in the late morning sky the next day.
2
Kinsley released a long breath before she opened the door to her rental car. Just one more journey together, Ethel, she thought. She had taken to naming her cars to keep from feeling like a nut for talking to herself constantly. It was how she worked things out, how she released frustrations. It also kept her from turning on the radio, which more often than not made her feel drowsy. She was someone who needed conversation, even if it was only with herself. This is the only intelligent conversation I’ve had all day, she would often tease herself.
She checked the gas gauge and noticed the car was full. Wow, she thought. Ethel, you sure get great mileage. Now the only thing to do before she got on the road was stopping for a cup of coffee, which was always worth the delay in anything she might be doing. She grabbed her phone and pulled up an app to find the nearest Starbucks.
A half hour later she was caffeinated and more alert. She pulled into a parking lot to check her map and began reminiscing about growing up in rural Tennessee. After debating spending some time in her homeland, she had found a route that would be more scenic and rural and keep her in Tennessee a bit longer.
“A slight change of plans, Ethel,” she said as she changed the route in the GPS.. Though it was a bit of a longer drive than taking the interstate through Atlanta, she had plenty of time to get to Carrollton, so she thought it would do her soul some good.
“See,” she said as she started the engine again, “it’s not impossible to slow things down and take care of myself after all. We’ll have to make sure Carley knows about this detour. She might praise me instead of scolding me. Of course, she’ll probably take the credit.”
“Turn right onto Broad Street,” came a sexy Texas drawl, drawing out the word “right.” She smiled, pleased again that she had chosen this voice over the sultry Siri.
She patted the passenger seat as if comforting a friend. “I think you appreciate Grayson”—she’d named the GPS voice as well—“too. Don’t you, Ethel.” She imagined the car purring in response.
Her scenic route took her over and along the looping Tennessee River. She loved that the water was her companion and discussed the scenery with Ethel, who also agreed that the area was beautiful. Water always gave her a peace unlike anything else, and she found herself imagining this view every day for the rest of her life. Sunlight flickered through the trees and sparkled on the water as she continued. She had to slow down more than once to allow a critter to cross the road, thanking the stars that none of those critters had been the long, slithering kind. She was sure Ethel would have turned tail and run the other way.
She was about half an hour along Raccoon Mountain Road, thinking how taking this alternate route was one of the best decisions she had ever made, when Ethel suddenly didn’t respond to the gas pedal. She sputtered for about another mile, continuing to decelerate and giving her driver time to coast into a sizable enough area where she was far enough off the two-lane to stop. Kinsley felt uneasy but was a little relieved that she had been able to safely pull to the side of the road without fear of being hit by cars coming behind her, though she had not seen any cars behind her in a while.
“Oh, Ethel, you can’t let me down like this. We’ve been through so much.” She turned off the ignition and waited a few minutes before trying to restart. The engine would not respond and she groaned glancing over at the passenger seat and rubbing it affectionately. “Are you not feeling well, old gal? Did you eat something that didn’t agree with you? Because I can see you have plenty of gas.”
She tried once more to wake the car, but was forced to admit that it was no use. “Are you trying to break up with me?” she asked while she fished her phone from her purse. She looked at the phone’s display for a second before scowling and dropping it back down in her purse.
“Great, way to go, Kinsley,” she scolded herself. “Perfect idea. Let’s take a drive in the middle of nowhere and make sure we break down in an area with no cell coverage.” She looked at the passenger seat again and frowned. “I thought we had a good thing going, Ethel. I don’t know what you think I did to you, but I promise I’d never betray you.”
She was tempted to try to start the car one last time, when a rap at her window made her jump. She turned to stare into the nostrils of a black horse and felt panic rise in her throat. But she rolled down the window and looked up at a silhouette of a man atop the beautiful creature. The afternoon sun was low enough in the sky to be nearly eclipsed by the human-and-horse shape.
“Umm, hello,” she said to the horse and then looked up to its rider.
“Hey,” came the rich, southern voice. The horse snorted and took a step back. “You passed me a couple of thousand feet back there, and I could hear that engine was about to give on you.” The man shifted and slid off the horse, then crouched next to her window.
Her heart sped up when her eyes adjusted to see his crystal-blue eyes, highlighted by the faintest of crow’s feet beneath them. His full lips accented a nose that looked as if it had been broken when he was younger. There was a small scar alongside his cheekbone, which did well to define his tanned face. She couldn’t quite tell the color of his hair under his hat, but it looked like it might have a reddish tone to it. “Yeah, no idea what happened. I just filled Eth—her tank. And I see there’s no signal out here.”
“That mountain over there”—he gestured with his thumb—“blocks the nearest tower. I think they’re planning on putting one a little further down, but it hasn’t happened yet. There’s no signal for about three miles on this stretch.”
Kinsley looked around the road and asked, “Is there someplace I can walk to get into some air conditioning and call a tow truck?”
“I’ll do you one better. Hop on and we’ll head to my house, which is just over that hill there. Y
ou ever rode a horse?”
She smiled, remembering her grandparents’ small farm. “I grew up not terribly far from here, so it’s like riding a bicycle for me.” He cocked his head a little, a hint of smile on the corners of his mouth. She started to open her door and hesitated. “But is it wise for me to hitch a ride with a strange cowboy in the middle of nowhere?”
He shrugged but stepped back. “You got a better plan?”
She gave him a half smile, then rolled up the window and opened the door. So it wasn’t the battery; there was still power in the car. “You have a point. Well, let’s at least get the ‘stranger’ part out of the way. I’m Kinsley,” she said as she stepped out and shut the door behind her, whispering “traitor” to Ethel. Then she put her hand out to the handsome man.
He watched her carefully as he took her hand and held it, pulling her with him. A dark car approached slowly, as if to stop and help, but he waved the driver away.
“I’m Jared, and this is Marshall.” He gestured toward the horse, who seemed to acknowledge her with a nod. “He likes the ladies,” Jared said, turning back to her. She laughed and looked at the handsome horse who was eyeing her expectantly.
Kinsley realized Jared was still holding her hand when he raised it to the saddle. “You need help getting on?” he asked.
She shook her head and repeated, “Like a bicycle, remember?” She pushed her purse into the man’s arm, took hold of the horn, and pulled herself up as if she had been doing it every day all her life.
Jared’s face registered something like surprise or admiration. “Well, I guess so.” He returned her purse and slid smoothly up in front of her.
He started to urge the horse forward, but she stopped him. “Wait. I need to make sure Ethel is locked up and safe.”
He turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “Ethel?”
Her face reddened slightly. “The car,” she said sheepishly as she pointed the keyring and locked it with a honk.
He nodded and turned back, as if her explanation was the most normal one in the world.
3
Jared Adamson had been riding the fence of his farm and had decided to take a short trot down one of his favorite places in the world—the short piece where the Tennessee River and Raccoon Mountain Road ran next to each other, as two lovers. It was a tradition to take Marshall along the short route before heading back to the house at Adamson Pride. He was sure the horse looked forward to it almost as much as he did anytime they checked the fencing around the property. It was a route of reflection that he had not shared with anyone, except for his late wife Julia.
He smiled, thinking of her. She had been gone four years, a lifetime ago and yet only yesterday. It was a paradox that often accompanied loss, to hold a memory in such a suspended moment in time that it was both ancient history and a recent moment in the same thought. He felt regret that he had not shared this with her more. If only he had known how much time they would have together. But then, if he had known how much time they’d have, he would have wasted it counting away the minutes instead of enjoying each moment. So it had all unfolded, perhaps, for the best.
It didn’t hurt as much to think of her now. It was more bittersweet, with “sweet” being the dominant taste. Friends and family kept pushing him to get married again, and he had dated some, but no one had really captured his attention long enough to want to spend more than a night or two with her. And it had now been months since he’d exchange more than a “how do you do” with a woman. His friends’ hearts were in the right place. He did not care much for celibacy, but he wasn’t so sure he hadn’t lost his one chance at true love and been left with no ability to feel as strongly and completely with another woman again.
As he was rounding a curve, a light-blue Impala passed him. He could tell right away the car was in trouble by the sound of the engine. Lucky for the driver, he thought, that he and Marshall were out there this afternoon. The road didn’t get tons of traffic; it could be an hour or more before someone came along to help.
As he approached the window, he noted the brunette deep in conversation. He looked around but saw no one else in the car and could see she was not on her phone. He grinned, and the smile spread wider when he knocked on the window with his knuckles and surprised, green eyes widened as the very fetching woman looked up at him. She tucked a strand of brown hair that had come loose and rolled down the window.
When she finally stepped out of the car, he found himself hoping she didn’t often accept the help of strangers on deserted country roads. Thank goodness he was harmless, he thought. Her long legs were clad in jeans that fit snugly but perfectly, and her button-up, sleeveless top hugged her chest. He could see now that her hair was much longer than he had realized at first as it was bunched in a silver clip at the back of her head. A flash of that long, brown hair free from the barrette and encircling her chest nearly causing him to trip when she reached out her hand.
Geez, how long had it been since he had shared a night with a woman? He suddenly could not remember the last one. He shook off the feeling, deciding that’s what he got for not paying attention to pretty women in a while. The next one that showed up was like a steak dinner after fasting.
As they rode toward the farm, he couldn’t help but be acutely aware of the feeling of her soft bosom as it occasionally tapped his back, and it took all the concentration he could muster to keep his mind from wandering where it shouldn’t be going. He was sure it was the dry spell trying to speak out and not just this particular woman with a floral scent.
She chatted away behind him with a pleasant, lilting laugh that normally would annoy him. He preferred quiet solitude, but as Kinsley explained where she grew up, he thought he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from pulling her off the horse and kissing her. He found himself enjoying the company in a way he had not felt in a long time.
He gestured to the white gate of the farm and the wrought-iron sign that rose above it. She leaned forward a bit squinting in the afternoon sun and read out loud, “Adamson Pride,” lingering on his name as if tasting it. “So, are you the Adamson in Adamson Pride?” She leaned back, and the spot on his back where she had touched him felt chilled at the separation.
“Yep,” he answered as Marshall instinctively turned into the gate. “Started by my great-grandfather.” She grew quiet as they trotted up the drive. When Marshall stopped in front of the white two-story house, Jared stepped off and raised his hand to help her down. “Welcome to my castle.”
4
Kinsley took the last drink of her iced tea and sat back looking around the small dining area that joined the living room.
“Do you need some more tea?” the young woman sitting next to her asked. Jared’s daughter looked enough like him to leave little room for doubt of her lineage, but had qualities that must have come from her mother. She had the strawberry-blond hair (at least she thought that was the color of Jared’s hair—he was still wearing a hat) and crystal-blue eyes of her father, but the shape of those eyes, as well as her nose and mouth and chin, were very different.
“Actually, I think I will. It’s awfully hot out there.”
“I’ll be glad to get you a refill,” Jared said, pushing away from the large table in the dining alcove of the living room.
Nikki put her hand on his shoulder as she stood. “I’ll take care of it. You need to play host to the stray you brought home.”
Kinsley laughed and noted the deepening wrinkles under his eyes as Jared watched the young woman and chuckled. The girl left the room, and Kinsley struggled to cover the silence as he turned his attention back to her. “She’s great,” she said quickly, pushing her glass to the side.
A proud smile settled on his face again. “My Nikki is the best thing to ever happen to me.”
“It’s apparent how close you are,” she acknowledged with a nod, noting how his eyes seemed to sparkle as he spoke of his daughter.
He sighed and looked back toward the kitchen door. “Not for long. It’
s her last summer here with me. One more year of college and then I’ll have to be content with short weekend visits around the holidays.”
“You think she’ll move far away?”
He paused before answering. “I hope she moves just far enough to have all the opportunities she wants, while being less than half a day’s drive from home. I just hope she chooses someplace besides Atlanta. That’s where she’s talking about going, but there’s only so many sleepless nights I can take.”
Kinsley smiled and had a sudden urge to pat his knee. “Atlanta’s not so bad. Any place that will give her the kind of opportunities you want her to have is going to be large enough that there will be troubles.”
His phone began ringing as he nodded. He stood and stepped into the living room area to take the call.
Kinsley took the moment to study the room. There did not seem to be the presence of a wife, but she felt it too invasive, and perhaps too suggestive, to ask.
When she and Jared had arrived, he had introduced her to Nikki before giving her directions to the bathroom and kitchen. After relieving her full bladder, she had sat down at the dining table where Nikki set out three glasses of tea, immediately peppering the author with a ton of questions.
Now, Nikki returned from the kitchen with a pitcher of tea and filled Kinsley’s glass. She thanked the young woman while she pulled her phone out of her purse. Three bars now, enough to make a call. Jared returned to the table, pouring himself a refill as well.
“I just talked to my buddy J.J.”
Kinsley nodded; he had told her he would call a local mechanic for her.
“He’s sending out a tow truck, but it’s getting late in the day now. He won’t be able to look at it until tomorrow morning. I know you were on your way to an event. Do we need to figure out how to get you there?”
She looked at the handsome man and decided she had a good reason to put off that last event now. Maybe Ethel had done her a favor after all. “I think it makes more sense for me to postpone it, at least until I find out what’s wrong with the car, as it’s a rental and I’m liable for it. It will be much better for the bookstore if they have as much notice as possible.”
Country Pride (Belle Ridge Book 1) Page 2
