—FORTY-FOUR—
An hour later, Banks walked out of the hospital, blinking in the sunlight. She hadn’t convinced him to hunt down Norah, but Nan had finally kicked him out and Banks figured he needed to get home for a shower and a change of clothes at the very least. His horses probably didn’t miss him, but Crash might be looking for some attention. The dog loved Kerri, but she didn’t take him with her when she left for work, so he was putting in some long days alone and Banks felt guilty.
He pulled into his yard and put his truck in park. He’d texted Kerri to tell her he had night chores under control and to enjoy her evening off. She’d replied to help himself to the chicken pot pie Ren had sent over. He was glad that part was looked after, since his fridge had been pretty bare when he’d gotten the call and he imagined anything left wouldn’t be any good. Opening the door, Crash burst out in a flurry of excited zoomies.
“Easy buddy, easy,” he said, laughing, before he had no choice but to collapse onto the step of his porch, succumbing to Crash’s overwhelming affection. “All right, I know. I’ve been gone a while. I promise I won’t stay away that long again.”
It wasn’t long before Crash left him, going to the truck. The truck that Norah showed up in most of the time. Banks whistled for the dog, just to spare him being so pathetic. He got up and went into the house, Crash close on his heels.
Popping a slice of the pot pie in the microwave, he checked the stack of mail Kerri had left on his kitchen table and pulled a cupboard door open to get a glass. One of Norah’s sketches was taped to the inside of the door. He’d put it there before everything had happened. It was Nan, in her flower garden. He’d seen her working on it at lunch break at the office one day and told her he had to have it. He intended to frame it and hang it but he hadn’t gotten around to it, so the safest place for it, where he could still have a look once in a while, was tucked safely inside the cupboard where he’d catch sight of it three or four times a day at least.
Well that was a gut punch. And then there were the horses. Sailor had to be growing like a weed at this point, and wild as the mountains. She’d named the foal, for God’s sake. His hands fisted in frustration as he thought of all the ways that Norah so thoroughly permeated everything here on his ranch without even trying. She’d walked through his life and left her mark all over everything.
He was jerked out of his thoughts by the timer on the microwave. He cleared his throat, grabbed a fork, filled his glass with water, and retrieved the plate, sitting down at the end of the table. Here was the memory of Norah sitting next to him, their knees touching, igniting the memory of the night that the brush of their knees together was all it had taken to start an inferno. That had been the beginning of the end for him.
He got up abruptly and found his recliner in the corner of the living room. There weren’t too many memories of Norah in here, at least. They never usually made it this far. The kitchen and the bedroom were typically their domain.
He hurried through his supper because that was what he’d done before Norah had been around, but then found himself facing down the barrel of barn chores. He’d come to enjoy Norah helping him—talking to him, really, because he wouldn’t let her lift much or get too close to most of the horses, for safety’s sake. The horses had to be fed, whether Banks was nursing a fractured heart or not.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with her. No, if he could have everything, he would, in a heartbeat. But she was the newest thing, and coincidentally the most time consuming thing, and with Jellybean on the way, it would only get to be more so. He couldn’t exactly cut out his career or his family or even his breeding program—he had breeding contracts to fulfill yet.
And so here he was. Hurtful and hurting. A sorry shit of a man who just couldn’t fit everything into his life and give it all the attention that it needed. He’d never do justice by Norah and her baby if he always had his eyes on everything else, and the same went the other way, too.
He was two strides away from the barn when his phone rang on his hip. He sighed and pulled it out to see Nate’s name on the display. Looking for an update on Nan, he supposed. He swiped to answer the call.
“Hey.”
“What are you doing?” his brother asked, with no preamble.
“Just fixing to do chores, how about you?”
“Pulling into your driveway. Just wanted to make sure you were home.”
Sure enough, Banks turned around to see Nate’s big truck rumbling up the driveway.
His brother pulled up and parked, hopping out.
“I’ll give you a hand.”
“I appreciate that.”
Truth was, Banks was just as happy not to be alone here with all these thoughts of Norah. And Nate didn’t have the same kind of agenda Nan had, so he was probably safe from the lecturing. He’d always been close to Nate, so this was company he didn’t mind at all. The two headed for the barn, and set to work to divide and conquer. He didn’t have to tell Nate what to do—if he was honest, his brother was probably twice the horseman he was, so he had an intuition and a lifetime of knowledge of what needed to be done next without having to be directed.
All that meant Banks was left standing in front of Dixie’s stall, watching Sailor cheekily bump her mama for milk and then crow hop away with all the sass he’d expect from a young foal getting confident in their surroundings. Dixie flicked one ear back and lifted a back foot. She was tolerant but she was good at teaching manners early on. Sailor would stay with the mare another couple of months, at least, but beyond four months the most important part of their time was not the nutrition from the milk but the social skills the mother would teach her baby.
“Hey, sweet girl,” he cooed to the filly. Sailor stopped just for a moment to cast him a glance, but then shook her head naughtily and went back to pestering her mama. He pulled the door open. Dixie had her face buried in her grain pail, so Banks took the opportunity to grab a handful and crouch in the stall. By this time he normally would have had a halter on the foal and started to teach it to lead, but he was behind the game. It wasn’t detrimental to her development at all; it just would have been easier to do it when she was smaller and more interested. He held the grain out, palm flat, and averted his eyes. The filly took a couple of steps toward him, then did a small air above ground, all feet off the straw, right in place. Banks shook his head. “Sassy.”
“Doesn’t look like she’s real keen. That’s not typical,” Nate said from behind him. Banks glanced over his shoulder to see his brother peering in the bars of the stall. “Must have got some of that attitude from the stud.”
“That’s not it,” Banks said ruefully. Dixie normally marked her foals with her exceptional personality. They were calm, quiet, and interested in engaging with the humans around them. Sailor had proven to be all of those things already.
You and me both, girly. It just can’t happen, I’m sorry.
“Then what is it?”
He cleared his throat, straightened, and watched the filly prance around the stall, shaking her head. He made a mental note to expand their outdoor time, maybe rig up the round pen so they could stay out most of the day.
“This is gonna sound silly,” he said. Generally, he didn’t assign human emotions to animals. It was a slippery slope upon which one could get completely derailed.
“Try me. I have a toddler at home.”
“She misses Norah,” Banks said, dropping the feed back into Dixie’s pail and stepping out of the stall. He wiped his hands on his jeans and slid the door closed, shaking his head. “Norah is her person. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Seems you and the filly have something in common,” Nate said.
“All right, Nan, that’s enough,” Banks said, stepping away to get a flake of hay for the duo. “I don’t hear the end of it at the hospital; I don’t need to hear it here in the comfort of my own home, either.”
“I just don’t see why you insist on making yourself miserable.
Happiness is attainable. You were happy; I’ve never seen you so happy. I didn’t realize you were such a sadist.”
“If being happy means I drop the ball on other stuff, I can’t, Nate. Other people suffer if I’m happy.”
“Now stop that, you sound ridiculous. Nobody is suffering.”
“What about Nan?”
“What about Nan?” Nate countered.
“Well, she’s sick, and I had no idea. She could have died and none of us would have ever known.”
Nate paused, shifted. He heard what Banks was saying, clearly—the thought of Nan ever not being there was overwhelming for Nate, too, but he processed it and proceeded, undaunted.
“Banks Montgomery, our grandmother is old. That is what happens when you spend that many hours on this earth. Someday, her body is going to be done, and there’s not a damn thing you or I or modern medicine will be able to do about it. She will live—or die—whether you make Norah Clarke happy or not. Do something for yourself for once. Your whole life has been and will be in servitude to this community, you deserve something at home that is fulfilling. Don’t be a martyr, Banks.”
Banks didn’t respond immediately, and he didn’t look at his brother, either. His eyes remained fixed on Sailor and Dixie. He swallowed, took a breath, and tightened his fingers on the bars of the stall.
“I know, it’s scary,” Nate said.
Well didn’t that just cut right to the heart of it.
“You think it wasn’t a little scary falling in love with Layla?”
“Scared is not a word I think of when I think of you and Layla,” Banks said, still unwilling to admit it actually was fear. Lesser men juggled more on a daily basis without catastrophe. Responsibility wasn’t a reason not to love.
“You bet your ass I was scared. There was a lot of unknown. And she had a whole life without me in it that I had to try and fit into somehow. Add onto that the mistrust…yeah, I was scared as hell.
But it felt like the right thing to do. I loved her and we figured out how to make it work. It’s not rocket science, Banks. Dumber men than us do it all the damn time.”
“Maybe I’m just dumber.”
“Maybe just not dumb enough to let yourself enjoy your life a little. If you didn’t take yourself so damn seriously, you could let go.”
Banks ruminated on it for a minute.
“Look, let’s put it this way. Are you happier now without Norah?” Nate leveled. Banks didn’t look up but he could feel his brother’s gaze intense on him.
“Not any happier, no. But happiness wasn’t the problem. It was responsibility.”
“Then let someone else take some responsibility. Pare down your breeding program if you have to. Let me carry some of the worry about Nan. Not much we can do about your job, but you might actually find if you let yourself have a good life with Norah, you might feel less burden anyway.”
He knew he’d feel better if he could somehow fit everything he wanted into the life he had. He’d feel better if Norah was around. And Nan would nag him a whole hell of a lot less. He swallowed, and felt a shiver of something in his stomach he barely recognized. That was the fear Nate was talking about.
“What if I can’t do it all? And I hurt her. She might not even take me back, but what if I win her back and then find out it all doesn’t fit after all? That’s not fair to her.”
“I think you’ll find that’s not a problem you’re going to have to deal with.”
He’d never felt so much like he wanted to put his fist into something as he did right in that moment. If he took this step off of the cliff into the unknown, it wasn’t just him anymore that stood to lose. It was Nan, his town family, and Norah and Jellybean, too. It was a selfish move that could end him up a hundred percent alone instead of just a little lonely. He swallowed, pushed back from the stall, and paced a tight square back to where he’d started.
“Banks.”
“What?” he ground out, angrier than he’d intended. He’d spent his whole life carefully compartmentalizing everything and then Norah turned up and now he couldn’t anymore.
“This isn’t rocket science. Human relationships are messy. Hell, you might do nothing wrong and Norah still ends up hurt. Or you. That’s how these things work.”
“Did Nan give you a script to work from when I wasn’t looking?”
His brother grinned a cocky little smart ass grin.
“Norah is your person. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
—FORTY-FIVE—
Stomach butterflies were pretty much a daily occurrence since she’d landed in Three Rivers, but Norah was surprised when they fluttered up as she parked Nan’s car in the parking lot of Pine Grove. Carter had brought the car around the day before with express directions from Nan to drive it as she needed it. That bit was fine, but the big truck parked the next row up and four spaces over was the bit that had ticked those butterflies off.
Logically, she’d known Banks would be here. Of course he would. He was knit right into this community, so it would be ridiculous to expect him not to turn up at Lily’s show, but her heart wasn’t fully prepared to see him. He was still out—as long as Nan was in the hospital, he’d be out, Carter had told her, maybe longer. They had Josiah Reicher on for as long as they needed him. The young man was kind, confident, and respectful, but he was no Banks.
As long as Banks wasn’t in the office, she could put off processing how the hell she was supposed to feel about him and seeing him on a daily basis. Once Nan was out of the hospital, they’d run into one another a significant amount more.
She climbed out of the car, which had returned with only a dented fender and no other damage, and smoothed the simple black dress over her protruding bump and legs. She’d found the cute little below the knee number with capped sleeves and a sweetheart neckline at the consignment shop in the strip mall—not officially a maternity dress, but with enough stretch to afford room for Jellybean. That had been a few weeks ago and she felt like she’d doubled in size since. It stretched so taut over her bump it might as well have been a neon sign announcing ‘unwed mother!’ like the ‘cold beer’ sign in the window at Danny’s. She’d realized it was nearly indecent when it was too late to change. She’d accented it with the horseshoe necklace Banks had given her and a pair of sparkly studded earrings she’d also found at the consignment shop. At the apartment, in the half mirror in the bathroom she’d thought she looked presentable, but now she wasn’t so sure. It was too late to turn back. Gloria, and Lily, and everyone else were all counting on her to show up.
She took a big breath, checked her reflection in the car window, and headed toward the main entrance of the complex. She’d told Gloria she’d meet her there, but now she had regrets. She was about to stroll into a major social event, completely unprepared, and probably run smack into Banks, whom she hadn’t seen since he’d told her he was too busy to have a relationship with her.
Reaching the steps, she could see people milling about in the lobby, and a big sign outside advertised Lily Baylor’s ‘Extraordinary Blessings’ show. She drew a deep breath and pulled the door open, expecting to get the cold shoulder from every resident of Three Rivers. If she was on the outs with the beloved sheriff, she was likely on the outs with everyone.
That didn’t seem to be the case, though, as face after face turned to her, smiling, warm. She scanned the room for Gloria, paused to hear Ella Baylor tell her how great she looked, shake Danny Thatcher’s hand while he paid her a warm compliment. Her job at the sheriff’s office had given her a lot of new people to know, and not a one of them seemed to realize she wasn’t on Banks’ arm anymore.
She finally found Gloria just outside of the common area where most of the photos were set up on big tripods about the room. She held a glass of what looked like champagne in each hand—they had really outdone themselves here, it really felt like what Norah imagined a big city art show would feel like, complete with guests of honor. Lily had been caught in the middle of the room
by a group of people who wanted to talk to her—though she’d made it clear that she wanted the residents to be the absolute focus of the show, residents and guests alike had mobbed her to ask questions. She waved from the middle of the circle when she saw Norah. And that’s when she caught sight of Banks.
Her heart jumped into her throat. She swallowed twice just to say ‘no thank you’ when Gloria tried to hand her one of the flutes of champagne. He looked good. Like the kind of good that made her want to pull him into a dark alcove, all stubble and dark washed jeans and button down shirt with clean boots. She’d seen him dressed in uniform for work, but this was just a bit more special than that. It might have just been because of his absence, but she couldn’t stop her mouth from watering. He had to have felt her eyes on him because he turned, then, his gaze meeting hers.
Shit.
“It’s sparkling cider, dear. Nonalcoholic,” Gloria said with a chuckle, glancing over her shoulder to see where Norah’s eyes had been transfixed. Norah hurried to turn her gaze back to Gloria. Her great aunt swung back with a brow arched, all sassy. She’d spent too much time with Nan, clearly. “He’s been looking for you.”
Norah cleared her throat and stepped to the side, out of his line of vision just as she saw an elderly lady touch his arm and pull him aside. Asking after Nan, no doubt. She swallowed hard, her heart beating double time and took the flute from her aunt, taking a big swig as if it were alcohol, though she’d never been the type to drink to get brave.
“Did he say why?”
She could imagine it now. Get out of my grandmother’s house, or we don’t need you at the office anymore, or even worse, I meant what I said, and can I have that crib back? She was here to support Lily and Gloria but the very last thing in the world she wanted was a public dressing down, and while she thought Banks wasn’t that type, she wasn’t 100% sure what type he was anymore.
Lawful Heart Page 25
