Impulsion

by Jamie Magee

  Donald stopped at the end of one hall, pulled the double doors open, and extended his arm for Wyatt to enter.

  It was a library, a two story one. It was dim. The dark leather furniture, massive dark oak desk only added to the wealthy ambience.

  Garrison Tatum was walking in the room from a doorway on the side, all alone.

  “Mr. Doran. In my home,” he said with a tone that reflected more Texas than New York, a tone deep with power.

  Wyatt gave his most polite smile, walked to meet him, shook his hand, the firm handshake his father had taught him to use when he was just a boy.

  The man didn’t look sick to him; just as powerful and intimidating as he did when Wyatt met him when he was just a kid.

  His hair may have been white, there may have been aged lines across his face, but his shoulders were still broad, and he still looked Wyatt dead in the eye, as if he could read his every thought.

  “Happy Birthday, sir.”

  “Why, thank you, though you are a day early.”

  “I didn’t want to disrupt the party that has been planned for so long.”

  Garrison laughed. “That party is not for me; it’s a stage for strategy, strategies in all walks of life. Have a seat, son,” he said to Wyatt, nodding to the round table that had been set for dinner.

  “I understand I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

  Wyatt tilted his head in confusion as he took his seat.

  “You pulled my Harley from the cab of a totaled truck.”

  Wyatt held his stare. “I don’t know if you recall him, but Easton Ballantine was the first from my department at her side. Once I saw who was on that horse trailer, I assisted. But Harley was unharmed all in all, no real danger.”

  “You assisted,” Garrison said with a raspy chuckle. “I’m sure you walked as calmly as you could to the cab of that truck.”

  Wyatt let a slow smile come his face as the fear he did feel in that moment flashed in his ice blue eyes. “I have only met real fear a few times in my life; that moment was one of them, no doubt, sir.”

  The conversation halted as a servant rolled in the dinner that was served to the two of them and poured a glass of wine for Wyatt.

  When Wyatt ignored the wine, Garrison said, “I’m sure we have beers, too. Of course, I’m assuming; they keep them from me. This half glass of wine is my limit, supposed to ease me.”

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “Meeting fear...interesting,” Garrison said to pick up the conversation once more. “When did you meet fear before then?” Garrison asked with a glance to Wyatt. “In a fire, or was it on the back of one of those wild horses you tend to tame with that deep, southern tone of yours?”

  “It was the last time I saw you, sir.”

  “You fear me?” Garrison asked, as if he had never heard such a thing.

  “I don’t; I respect you. That morning, I feared that I could not keep my promise to you or Harley.”

  Garrison set his dinnerware down. “And what promise was that?”

  “To keep her safe.”

  Garrison nodded a few times, his piercing stare holding Wyatt’s. “And you didn’t think she was safe with me?”

  “With you, yes.”

  “Then what was it?”

  Wyatt swallowed, not sure how blunt he should be; no one coached him on that point, and honestly they should have - the Dorans were known for their bluntness.

  “Harley is a strong woman. She knows what she wants, but sometimes she has a hard time saying that. In most cases, she finds her own way to say or do what she needs to…her mother, she never really gave Harley the time she needed to come out of this mold she was born into.”

  “Is that a fact?” Garrison said.

  Wyatt couldn’t read his tone, was confused when he started to eat once more, as if Wyatt had not basically called his wife a controlling bitch.

  “And how do you allow Harley to find this voice of hers?”

  “Calm…patience…trust.”

  “That’s how you are at all times around her?”

  Wyatt clenched his jaw. He didn’t fly here to lie to the man, and he didn’t fly here to offend him either. After he counted to three in his mind, he answered, “No, sir. That would make us a fallacy. It would mean that we withheld parts of ourselves from each other. With that being said, we’ve never really fought. If we do, it’s a few sharp words, silence, then us finding a way back, seeing the other’s point of view. Time is too precious to spend it on anger.”

  Garrison stared at Wyatt for a long moment, a lingering glint of pride in his stare. “Did you fight a lot growing up? Before you had the chance to figure out how limited time could be at times?”

  “From day one, we knew any moment we had was priceless. I don’t recall any real fights. If we did, it was about her keeping her fears to herself, not letting me share them with her.”

  “The man that rarely meets fear wanted to share my daughter’s?”

  “I did. But the fears we had then were the fears of a teenage heart; they seemed impossible to contend with.”

  ‘The fear of being caught,” Garrison said.

  “Fear of being separated. Being caught was not the issue.”

  Garrison raised his chin. “And why is that?”

  “Because one way or another, at some point in time I knew I would look you in the eye and tell you that I loved your daughter from the moment I laid eyes on her. That I will love her until the day I die.”

  Wyatt leaned forward. “Sir, I know what happened a few years go would look bad to any family. I apologize if I shamed or offended your family or broke any trust, but I assure you there was nothing torrid between Harley and me. We may have been just kids, but we were kids that knew that what was between us was more than a crush or a passing curiosity.”

  Garrison went back to his dinner as if Wyatt had not laid out his heart and soul on the table before him. When he was finished with his meal, he sat back in his seat.

  “Harley ever tell you what I always strived to teach her?”

  “You have taught her many things, sir.”

  “One lesson seems to be escaping her, and you.”

  “There is a lesson I’ve missed?” Wyatt asked, narrowing his eyes.

  “Yes. Bluntness.”

  That shocked him. He thought he was more than blunt enough.

  “You told me about the past. What about now?”

  “Now? Now, if it were possible, I love her even more. Suppose I have you to thank for that, or Mrs. Tatum.” Garrison lifted a brow in question. Wyatt went on. “The separation between Harley and me proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that I cannot or will not live without her.”

  Garrison waved his hand like he wanted Wyatt to go on, but Wyatt didn’t understand how much clearer he could be with this man. No wonder Harley had so many issues comprehending him.

  Then all at once, it hit him. He understood what Garrison wanted. At least he thought he did. But Garrison’s timeline was not adding up, not if as far as he knew Harley had been with Collin, that Harley had only been at Wyatt’s farm for a summer. And though Wyatt had made no bones about the fact that he planned to spend the rest of his life with Harley, it seemed too soon. Then again, it didn’t. He had loved the same girl since he was a boy.

  “I want Harley to have my name. I want to spend the rest of my life with her, raising horses, a family.”

  “In that order?” Garrison quipped.

  “I suppose that would be Harley’s choice.”

  “And have you spoken to her about this life plan?”

  As Wyatt thought back to all those times he and she had laid under the stars and dreamed side by side, even the moments across this past summer, he said, “More than once.”

  “You have no doubt she will tell you yes?”

  “If she doesn’t, I will calm any fear she has, wait until she knows she’s ready. I’m not in a hurry.”

  “Of course you’re not. You’re a young man, not staring at e
ighty. You know, at one time I was not in a hurry; that landed me with a two-year-old when I was sixty. I don’t recommend that path, son; it gives you less time with the people that matter the most.”

  Wyatt lifted a brow, still not comprehending that he had just asked this man to marry Harley and was almost positive that he gave his blessing.

  “You see, there is this rumor going around that at this big party that is costing a small fortune it is not only my birthday, but the day I will announce my greatest accomplishment’s engagement to a fine and upstanding man that will honor my bloodline, my wealth, my everything.”

  Wyatt felt himself go rigid but did his best to hide that. Did Harley know that? Was this another reason she didn’t ask him to come? Wyatt counted way past the number three as he told himself to calm down, that she had her reasons, that even if her mother had plotted something, both Harley and Collin had told him that whatever this was between them was ending this weekend.

  One of the main things Wyatt promised himself as he flew there was not to spoil whatever Harley had set up with Collin. He knew they had planned to tell the man they had been apart for almost a year, and Garrison knew Harley had been at his farm for over three months. So as far as Wyatt could assume, telling this man he loved his daughter would bring no harm or foul. Now he didn’t know what to think.

  Was he expecting him and Collin to go head-to-head over his daughter? Did he want some huge scandal? That blew his mind, too. Harley had fought too hard to avoid such a thing.

  “Am I going to announce an engagement?” Garrison asked.

  “Harley doesn’t know I’m here.”

  “They do say surprises are romantic.”

  “Mr. Tatum, I plan to marry your daughter; there is no question. But I came here to tell you l loved her, that I would always take care of her. I know you’re unwell, and I didn’t want to lose that opportunity.”

  “Which is telling me that you will marry her.”

  Wyatt tilted his head to the side.

  “You know, I was the one that called your mother the first instant Harley showed interest in the equestrian world.”

  Wyatt didn’t know that. All he remembered before Harley was the stress of getting ready for her arrival.

  “The first time I saw Harley ride, how it lit her eyes on fire, I knew who I wanted to train her. I just needed Harley to tell me that this was more than a hobby to her.”

  “You knew of my family?”

  “I knew of your mother’s, the Ellingtons. My mother was a fan of the work your grandmother did with the humane society. I even visited your mother’s farm. She was just a girl the last time I’d seen her before the day I met you for the first time.”

  “Passion for all animals comes from both sides of my family.” Wyatt was a Doran to his core, his father made over, but he still respected his mother’s side of the family, what he knew of them. They passed away not long after Ava was born.

  “And the Dorans to this day still take on rescue animals, still contribute to the community, at some points in time have even provided for other farms.”

  All that he was saying, Wyatt knew, but it was something his family never spoke about in the manner Garrison was using; it was just part of life. Someone needed help, they helped.

  Wyatt offered him an agreeing nod.

  “My mother’s last will and testament was rich with detail. She had collected pieces from across the world, not to mention the revenue and homes. One piece she was adamant about. The very last conversation I had with her was about this piece.”

  Wyatt was starting to think that in old age Garrison had picked up the habit of not tracking a conversation. What was he trying to tell him?

  “She wanted this piece to go to a soul that would honor my family bloodline. I had no heir at the time.” Garrison laughed. “I don’t think she ever thought I’d have one. If no heir came from me, or if I found that heir unfit in any way, the piece was go to the Ellingtons’ charity, which turned into the Dorans’ over time.”

  Wyatt raised his brow. There was more than one charity that his family oversaw; every month, ten percent of his farm’s profits went into them. It was also the reserve used to help out the farms that Garrison had mentioned.

  The idea that there was any connection or relationship between his and Harley’s family, long before they were born, was blowing his mind.

  “I love irony. It has always been my marker in life, letting me know that yes, I did make a wise choice.” He pulled a box from his pocket, and when he opened it, Wyatt saw the largest diamond he had ever seen in his life, a canary diamond.

  “I imagine my mother smiling down on me, on my cleverness, on the fact that there is a good chance that I not only gave this ring to a soul that would honor my bloodline, but also a member of the Doran family…it seems no matter what the circumstance, this ring will be a part of the Dorans….whether it’s on my daughter’s hand or in your charity’s bank account, I cannot control.”

  “You want me to give this to Harley?” Wyatt asked, only because it was hard to hear the man over his thundering heart.

  “You asked me to marry my daughter, told me you would love her for the rest of your life. In your non-blunt way, you asked for my blessing. I’m telling you that if you propose tomorrow with this ring and she says yes, you have my blessing.”

  “Tomorrow,” Wyatt repeated.

  “Of course, you can’t propose tonight; she’s with Collin. You might as well stay tonight here, though. There is supposed to be some lunch with an inner circle before this party tomorrow. It’s best to propose around close friends and family. I fear if you leave, with this insane security something might foul up the way I see this in my mind.”

  “I didn’t—I didn’t travel here alone. I have friends at the hotel.”

  “More Dorans?”

  “No, sir. Easton Ballantine and Memphis Armstrong.”

  “The racer Lucas Armstrong’s son? I’ll send a car for them. I’d love to hear the stories Memphis has about his father, and according to you I have a thank you to give Easton. Donald,” Garrison called. When Donald arrived in the doorway, Garrison said, “I need you to send the car back to Wyatt’s hotel to pick up his companions, along with their belongings.”

  When Donald left, Garrison looked right at Wyatt. “Son, by no means is my home a prison. You are free to leave at any time. If you wake in the morning and find fault in our conversation, doubt that tells you that you need more time, so be it. But I will tell you this: I have found in my life that people are either mad because they have wasted time in the past or because they are currently wasting time—being mad is what we do. It’s best to not be mad, not waste time. Your first instinct is the right one. It’s natural to explore, to wonder about other options, but I would think the gap in your past would have already afforded both you and my daughter all the time you needed to explore, to be sure you’re where you want to be today.”

  “I don’t doubt my path. I’ll go to Collin’s apartment right now if that’s what Harley needs to have your blessing. My only qualm is putting her on a stage that I have tried to pull her off. I imagined asking her to marry her in every way but this…”

  “Then put her in her own world when you ask her. You may want to give your mother a call as well; I’m sure she’d like to know her oldest son, the man set to oversee her legacy, is about to propose to my daughter.”

  Wyatt swallowed, a bit nervously, not sure how he was going to word this to his mother. He doubted she’d find fault with it, but at the same time this room felt like a dream. Everything he wanted was given to him - that is, if Harley said yes. He feared stepping back from this and finding some hidden flaw, some hidden trap. He came from a blunt, straightforward family, but according to Harley, her family was anything but.

  Chapter Twenty

  Harley’s mind had yet to settle. The guilt was insane, and she wasn’t sure if she felt guilty for playing this part, forcing Wyatt to stay behind and allow her to move the ch
ess pieces so they could be together, or if she felt the guilt of playing this out for her father, knowing deep down it was both points that were making her sick to her stomach.

  The fact that every time she tried to call Wyatt it went straight to voicemail was not helping her. He may have kissed her goodbye, told her he loved her, but that didn’t mean he was not furious with her.

  She had made it to New York, pulled the things she had at Collin’s apartment together. What she really wanted, she set aside for him to ship; the rest was going to charity.

  After that, she took her bags to her father’s house and had lunch with him, her mother, and Conrad and Silvia, Collin’s parents. Harley felt sick to her stomach the entire time; adrenaline would drown her every time she saw Collin try to take an opening in the conversation to hint at the announcement of this break up, and each time Conrad or Garrison would speak over him. Either that or their mothers would take over the conversation, speaking of the summer they had overseas.

  After that, Harley was stuck with her mother, going over what the coordinator had set up. She went to tell her mother a thousand times about Wyatt, but she couldn’t even manage to tell the woman that she had been in a wreck; she kept cutting her off. And when she wasn’t cutting her off, she was berating her for being more tan, said she had to find her a new dress now.

  Harley had been pacing in her room, the room that she and Collin were supposed to be sharing, waiting on him to come back. He had followed their fathers out to play a round of golf. She was hoping he had at least gotten through to someone. At this point, stealing a microphone and announcing this seemed to be the only way to get anyone to listen to them. She had to figure out how to warn her father this announcement was coming.

  When Collin walked in with a defeated look, Harley sank down on the sofa before her. “How could you have spent almost six hours with them and gotten nowhere?”