by Karen Kelley
“I think I could eat a whole cow right now. Yes, I love steak.”
“Great, I know this excellent steakhouse.”
As we drove to the restaurant, I couldn’t help thinking how much he’d just spent on furniture. It was a crazy amount.
“Why so quiet?” he asked.
“I was just thinking about how much money you just spent. It’s more than I make in two years, maybe even three. I’m thinking I’m in the wrong line of work. I should buy a coffee shop or a vineyard. Building houses is out because I can’t drive a nail into a piece of Styrofoam.”
He laughed, the sound filling the truck and warming my heart.
The restaurant was nice without being over the top, so I felt comfortable going in casually dressed.
Once we were seated, I asked him to tell me about how he got started with his vineyard. I loved hearing the sound of his voice and seeing the excitement in his eyes as he spoke about what he loved.
“It was by chance that I ended up buying the first vineyard. I went out driving one day and came across it. I could tell it had been neglected. When I came to a house, I stopped. There was a for sale sign. Herbert came out of the house to speak with me.”
“Herbert? The man running your operation now?”
He nodded. “The owner had died and the children were wanting to sell. I could tell he was worried about what he would be doing. The more we talked about the vineyard, I discovered he was afraid they were going to lose some of the vines. He knew a hell of a lot about the business. I got the names of the children and contacted them. They accepted my offer, and Herbert was excited to stay on. I told him to hire as many people as he needed to bring the vineyard back up to what it once was. I didn’t want him doing any of the work, just supervising. I still insist on that.”
“Do you try to fix everyone who crosses your path?” I asked.
“I like wine, too,” he said. “It’s a good trade-off.”
As we finished our meal, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, then glanced down. His expression immediately turned serious. I wondered who was calling him. I hoped everything was okay. After only a moment of conversation, he ended the call, then slowly set his phone on the table. A sick feeling began to build inside me. I didn’t think I wanted to know who he’d been talking to.
“That was Jeremy,” he said.
My whole body tightened with dread. I had a feeling I didn’t want to hear what he was about to say.
Chapter 19
Fiera
“Let’s get out of here,” Layne said, and when I nodded, he motioned for the check.
As we left the restaurant and made our way to his pickup, I felt as if something had frozen inside of me. It was as though the world was moving, but I had stayed in one place. After he unlocked his truck and we got inside, I couldn’t stand it any longer.
“What did Jeremy say?” I hated that my words trembled. I tried to tell myself to stay strong, but for once in my life, it wasn’t doing any good.
“He can’t find anything about your father. He traced him back to Texas, but then it’s as if he disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“What now?” I asked.
“He has no more leads.”
“He’s ending the investigation, right?”
“I’m afraid so.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
He reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’ll hire another investigator, maybe he’ll be able to find something.”
I shook my head. “Don’t bother. If he doesn’t want to be found, then I doubt that anyone will be able to find him.”
“That might not be the case at all,” he said.
“Welcome to my world,” I said. “Don’t get too close to me because I’m bad luck.” I hated this part of me. It was as if I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling from my mouth.
“Don’t say that.”
I pulled my hand free of his. “But it’s the truth. I’ve never had any real luck with relationships, so I really didn’t expect anything to come from searching for my father. I knew we were going down a rabbit hole. I don’t know why I thought this time might be different. I do thank you for everything you tried to do, and I promise I’ll pay you back every penny of what you spent for the investigator.”
He shook his head. “Don’t do this, Fiera.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t close yourself off from me.”
A short, bitter laugh escaped my lips. “What? Are you going to tell me you’re different? We both know our relationship won’t last. We’re from two different worlds. My world is real life. Your life is one of privilege, even if you are working as a paramedic. Believe me, the two don’t mix. Not that we haven’t had fun together, because we have. Eventually, you’ll go your way, and I’ll go mine.”
“We don’t know that. No one knows what their future will hold.”
“I can pretty much tell you about my future. It’s just like my past. It’s not going anywhere. I released a weary sigh. If you don’t mind, I’d like to go home now. It was a busy shift and I’m still tired. Please, give my thanks to Jeremy. I know he did his best.”
We didn’t speak on the way home, each lost in our own thoughts. Layne walked me to my apartment, then hesitated.
“I’ll be fine,” I told him.
He finally nodded, then went to his apartment while I went inside mine. I made it all the way to the sofa, then crumpled down onto it. I leaned against the cushioned arm, holding my middle as if I could keep my emotions in, but it didn’t work as tears began to roll down my face.
The cushion shifted as someone sat beside me, then I was being pulled into his arms. I knew it was Layne. I should’ve locked the damn door, but I hadn’t.
“I’m here for you. I won’t let you go. If anyone leaves, it’ll be you, not me. I’m not like everyone else who’s been in your life.”
“I wanted to find him. I wanted to ask him why he’d left me behind.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.”
“He loved me. I know he did. He would read me stories before I went to bed or sing me a lullaby. He loved Irish songs, but the one he sang me was his favorite. He said it reminded him of Ireland. He used to tell me his grandmother sang it to him when he was little. And we’d go for ice cream together. Just me and him. Momma never wanted to come with us.”
“You don’t know what happened to him. Maybe there was a reason he couldn’t come looking for you.”
But I knew the truth. I’d put my father on a pedestal and I thought he would stay there, but like everyone else in my life, he’d fallen off. I was only ten years old the last time I saw him. He’d been my knight in shining armor. What does a ten-year-old know? He could’ve been a horrible man and I just didn’t know it. Maybe that’s why my mother hated him so much.
I don’t know how long Layne held me in his arms, but my tears finally dried and he was still holding me. I drew in a deep shuddering breath, then lightly pushed away from him.
“I’m sorry I fell apart.”
“You don’t have to be. I’m here for you.”
I came to my feet. “I want something to drink. Would you like a glass of wine?” I knew I was rambling, searching for anything to say that didn’t concern my father. I’d opened up way too much. I wasn’t sure why I had this time. The last thing I wanted was anyone feeling sorry for me.
“A glass of wine would be fine,” he said.
“I’ll be right back,” I told him and rushed to the kitchen.
For a moment I leaned against the counter in front of the sink and drew in deep gulps of air as if I’d forgotten how to breathe. After a moment, I splashed cold water onto my face then patted it dry with the cup towel. I moved without thinking and got down two glasses, then the bottle of wine from the refrigerator.
I almost laughed when I glanced at the label. It was from Layne’s vineyard. Talk about two different worlds colliding. That’s exactly what happened with us.
Neither one of us belonged in the other one’s world.
But he’d been there for me when I needed him most. He would probably end up being a good friend, but I wouldn’t count on anything more. I poured the wine, then carried our glasses back into the living room. He patted the cushion beside him, as if I might move farther away. My hesitation was brief. After I sat down, he put his arm around me.
I knew I was only setting myself up for more hurt, but it felt good to have him next to me, his arm lightly across my shoulder.
“I’m sorry I fell apart,” I said again.
“You had every right to let go. I can’t imagine how hard it would be not knowing what happened to your father.”
“He was my world. My mother and I never had a close relationship. When he walked out of my life, I felt as if he took a part of me with him.”
“Tell me about him again.”
“What does it matter now? I doubt I’ll ever see him again.”
“But you still have good memories of him. Keep them close to your heart. No one will ever be able to take them from you.”
I had to admit, I liked that idea. “He used to tell me my hair looked like fire in the sunlight.”
“He was right. It does look like fire when the light hits it just right.” He took a few strands and wrapped them around his finger. “And it feels like silk. I love tangling my fingers in your hair.”
“I like your wine,” I told him.
“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, I thought we were telling each other what we liked.”
He laughed and I felt warm all over. Layne had a way of making me feel as if I could face the world and then conquer it. When I felt weak, he gave me strength. Yes, I knew our relationship could get complicated.
We talked until it got late, then we went to bed together. When we were beneath the covers, he pulled me close. We didn’t make love, but we talked most of the night. Actually, I talked and he listened. I told him about my grandparents who’d lived in Ireland, but after they died my father immigrated to the United States and became a citizen.
I told him that someday I would like to go to Ireland and see the town where my father lived. Maybe I could find roots there. Roots that I had lost here.
Eventually, my eyelids grew heavy. I yawned. Exhaustion washed over me.
I woke the next morning knowing something had changed in my life. When I realized I probably would never find out what happened to my father, I felt a heaviness wrap around me. It threatened to suffocate me until the steady thump of Layne’s heart invaded my space. I realized my head was on his chest. Once again, without realizing it, he pulled me from the deep end of the water. I knew I wasn’t swimming alone. At least not right now.
He suddenly stretched. “I could get used to waking up with you in my arms,” he said.
“How did you know I was awake?”
He shrugged. “I sensed it. As if our souls had merged.”
I stilled.
He laughed. “That, and you’ve been drawing imaginary circles on my chest.”
My finger immediately stopped moving. I pushed away from him and raised on one elbow. “For that, you owe me a cup of coffee.”
He grinned. “I always owe you a cup of coffee according to you.”
I scooted out of bed. “You can make it while I’m in the shower.” I waltzed over to the door, but before I went inside, I pulled my gown over my head and tossed it to the floor. I faced him completely naked. “Don’t forget my coffee,” I said before going into the bathroom.
In one swift move, he lunged out of bed, coming toward me at full speed. I began to laugh as I hurried to the shower and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. Of course, that didn’t keep him from coming inside with me.
I didn’t mind waiting for my coffee.
For the rest of the day, Layne kept me busy. We went out to the country house, and he supervised the people who were picking up the furniture that would be donated. His new furniture wouldn’t be arriving until next week. After the movers left, I turned to him. “You know, you could’ve saved a butt load of money by buying a can of Lysol and some cleaning rags.”
“I wanted my own furniture. Besides, I liked the idea of donating Ryder’s, since it was too big for his new house.”
“It’s a beautiful home.” I walked with him through the house. For just a moment, I envisioned me living there. Just as quickly as the picture crossed my mind, I forced the image away. Those kind of thoughts could get me into trouble.
By the time we got back to our apartments, I knew I needed some time alone. “Thank you for today,” I told him.
“Will you be okay tonight?” he asked.
“I think I will be now. Sometimes, we have to move on.”
He pulled me into his arms for a long, lingering kiss, before he stepped back and went into his apartment. I turned and went into mine. I didn’t think I would’ve been able to get through this without Layne. He made me feel stronger. But now I needed to come to terms on my own. I think he sensed that and was giving me space.
I went to the bedroom and got out the photo album, carrying it back to the sofa. I sat down, then hesitated for just a moment before I opened it.
I smiled at the picture of my mother when she was young. “I wish you would’ve let me into your world,” I said. “I wish you would’ve talked to me, told me what your hopes and dreams were. I know I wasn’t very old, but I think I would’ve listened. I miss what we could’ve had.”
I turned the page. There was a picture of me with my father. I lightly ran my finger over it.
“I miss you, Daddy. I wish you were here. I wish I knew what happened to you, but you will always hold a special place in my heart. Someday, I’ll tell my children about you and how much I loved you. How you used to sing me a lullaby. The same one your mother sang to you. I’ll tell them how your parents lived in Ireland, and how you immigrated to the United States after they passed. I’ll keep your memory alive. I love you, Daddy, wherever you are.” I closed the album and hugged it close to me. Tears slid down my face, but they weren’t the devastating tears of yesterday. They were tears saying good bye. It was time to let go.
Chapter 20
Layne
“You’re watching me again. I’ve told you I’m okay. This isn’t the first setback I’ve ever had in my life,” Fiera said.
“I wasn’t…”
She crossed her arms in front of her, raising both eyebrows.
“I guess I was, but I didn’t mean to.”
She frowned. “Well stop it. You’re making me nervous.”
I studied her for a moment. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’m disappointed that Jeremy couldn’t find out anything about my father. I haven’t seen him for fifteen years. I’ll get past this. I’d planned on having closure when I went to the prison to visit his grave. That didn’t happen. I’m sure he has his reasons for not wanting to be found. I’m not going to think about what might have happened to him. As you said, I still have my memories. No one can take those from me. If that’s all I ever have, I can live with that.”
Now, why didn’t I believe her? Hell, maybe I was reading more into it than I should. I didn’t have long to dwell on it as we got another call. For the next few hours, we stayed fairly busy. Nothing major.
Then we got a call to Forest Green nursing facility. Possible heart attack. As soon as we got there, one of the aides met us at the door.
“It’s Abigail Carter,” she said. “Chest pain again.”
Fiera and I exchanged smiles, but still hurried as we followed the aide to Abigail’s room. It was probably just going to be another hoax, but because you never knew for sure, you had to treat every call seriously. The one time you didn’t, that was the call that would bite you on the ass.
Wanda looked up as we came in. She quickly gave us the vital signs, which weren’t bad, but not great either. The nurse already had her on a low flow of o
xygen. By her worried expression, I knew she was thinking this might be an actual heart attack.
“What’s going on, Abigail?”
She shook her head, bottom lip trembling. “My chest hurts, and my left arm. Am I going to die?”
“We’ll take care of you,” Fiera said as she quickly attached the leads to her chest and turned on the cardiac monitor.
As soon as I saw the rhythm, I began looking for a good vein to start an IV.
“Her pulse is thready and weak,” Wanda said. She looked as worried as Abigail.
I put the tourniquet on her arm as the nurse got the IV set up ready for me, then cleaned the area with an alcohol prep. “You’re going to feel a little stick.” I inserted the needle. Abigail made a little grunting sound, but didn’t move.
“Heart rate is irregular. She’s got some atrial fib, and she’s throwing some PVCs,” Fiera said.
“Is she going to be okay?” a shaky voice spoke from the doorway.
Wanda looked up. “They’re taking really good care of her, Mr. Jenkins. Go to the day room. I’ll come to you as soon as they leave.”
“I love you, Abigail.”
A tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
We lowered the stretcher, then on the count of three, we moved Abigail to the cot. We changed the nursing home oxygen to ours, then put the cardiac monitor between her legs and strapped everything down. When we were ready to roll, Wanda handed us an envelope with Abigail’s paperwork.
We loaded the stretcher, and I got in the back with Abigail, then told Fiera I was ready to go.
“I’m having a heart attack, aren’t I?” Abigail asked.
“A mild one probably, but it doesn’t mean you’re going to die.”
She gave a weak smile. “Maybe now my family will come see me.”
“I’m sure they will, then you give them hell.”
She nodded. “Maybe I will. I’ve always told them it was okay and I knew they were busy.” She pursed her lips. “Dammit, I’m not in the grave yet.”
“Keep that attitude and you’ll be around for quite a while.” I reached and got the mic, then gave my report to the ER. There was no change in route. As soon as we had her unloaded and in the emergency room, Fiera asked how she was doing. “I think she’s going to be okay. She’s got the right attitude, and she’s feisty as hell.”
