Heartland

by Tricia Andersen

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  “Sloan’s here to meet Dad, Mom,” Abbey interjected.

  “Dad’s not here, Abbey.” Mary wrung her hands together. “He went to get his things from the motel.”

  “From the motel?”

  “Yep. He’s going to stay here with me.”

  “Why would you let him stay here?”

  “He’s contacted a lawyer. His name is still on the title of this house. My lawyer is working on having it reverted to me, but until then, Walter has demanded to live in his house.”

  “Are you sure that is a good idea, Mary?” Gordon warned. “I can pack a bag and stay here with you so you don’t have to be alone with him.”

  “Yes, Gordon. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

  “Maybe you should let someone take care of you.”

  “Gordon, no one has taken care of me since before Abbey was born. Who’s going to do it now? You?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your job is to take care of Sloan, not me.”

  “I’m a man of many talents, Beautiful.”

  “I’m sure you are.” Mary touched his arm gently. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  “Neither do I. But until my lawyer gets back to me, I’m stuck. He’s going to be back soon. You all need to go.”

  “Mom, let us stay,” Sloan insisted.

  “Sloan, go home and take care of my daughter. Please?” Abbey’s heart sunk in her chest as she watched her husband’s face. He took her hand in his. Then he nodded solemnly.

  “Then it’s settled. I’ll call if I need you. Stop by for dinner tonight. Maybe if we give Walter what he wants, he’ll go away. All right?”

  Gordon didn’t answer her. He took a step toward Mary and pulled her to him. He placed a long, tender kiss to her forehead. She let go a trembling sigh in response.

  Sloan nudged Abbey toward the door. “Maybe we should give them a moment?”

  “There’s no moment to be had, lad.” Gordon rubbed Mary’s arms before he let her go. “Let’s go before the bastard returns. But trust me, Mary. I will be watching.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  Abbey followed Gordon as he and Sloan led her from the house. She turned to wave goodbye to Mary. Her mother never noticed. Her love-struck eyes were locked on the older Irishman leading them to the truck. Abbey smiled. Mom’s in love. She’s found her hero. Now they just got to get rid of the bastard I call Dad.

  ∙•∙

  Abbey spent the day curled up against her loving husband, a man who was very familiar with violence but would never use it on her. She could sense Sloan was just as troubled as she was. The thought of leaving her mother with her father, a man who had beaten her before, bothered both of them. If something happens to Mom, he will probably kill my dad. If Gordon doesn’t get to him first.

  Finally six o’clock arrived. The couple rose from their nest on the couch. Once they locked up the house, they walked to Mary’s house. They didn’t have to step inside. Tension was electric the moment they entered. Gordon and Mary met them inside the door. Gordon held a plate of thick steaks.

  “Let’s go start the grill,” Gordon ordered to Sloan.

  “Where’s Dad?” Abbey questioned.

  “Visiting old friends from Cornell,” Mary answered.

  “How many friends could he possibly have after being gone so long?” Sloan interjected.

  “Seems he kept in touch with someone. It wasn’t me.”

  “Come on.” Gordon waved Sloan toward the door. After giving Abbey a quick kiss, he followed, shutting the front door behind them.

  Mary forced a smile on her face. “Help me in the kitchen?”

  “Mom, why don’t you kick Dad out?”

  “If I do, he’ll just come back with his lawyer. Ask how I know that.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. This morning. Until my lawyer gets my paperwork back to me, I have no choice.”

  “Stay with Sloan and me.”

  “And let Walter take my house? I worked too hard to keep this place.”

  “Then let Sloan and Gordon convince Dad to go.”

  “Abbey, Walter is a bully. I can’t put those two men in danger. I just…can’t.”

  Abbey cocked her head to the side. “Mom, what’s going on?”

  Mary blushed hot red. “Could you please help me in the kitchen?”

  “Mom?”

  “What?”

  “Did Gordon kiss you?”

  Mary gnawed at her lip for a moment. “Yes.”

  “Just one kiss?”

  “Yes. No. Yes.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I kissed him after he kissed me.”

  “And then?”

  “You two kids showed up. Now, please. Help me?”

  Abbey laughed. “All right.” She followed Mary into the kitchen. A half-full bowl of watermelon sat on the counter with the rest of the melon sitting beside it. A large knife stuck out of the rind. Abbey pointed at it. “Was that what you were doing before the kissing started?”

  “That’s what you need to finish.”

  Abbey nodded with a grin and then crossed the kitchen to finished piecing the melon.

  Ten minutes later, Abbey set a bowl full of watermelon chunks on the dining room table and then returned to the kitchen. She glanced at her mother as Mary pulled the cooked ears of corn from the water boiling in the stockpot. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach. She watched Gordon and Sloan grilling outside in the backyard in the summer heat. Normally, it was fun to watch them laugh and talk. Today, it was only silence as each man took sips from their beer. Abbey had been around them long enough to read their body language. They bristled with each breath. They were prepared to attack.

  The front door opened. Abbey didn’t turn her gaze from the window.

  “Ah, here are my girls making supper in my home. Best sight ever,” Walter crooned.

  ”This is not your house, Walter. And we’re not your girls,” Mary snapped.

  “Really? My lawyer says otherwise. Are you here alone, Abbey?” Walter demanded.

  “No, Dad. Sloan’s outside,” she growled.

  “Are you going to bring him in here so I can meet him?”

  Abbey spun around. “He’ll be here in a moment. Why don’t you have a glass of lemonade and take a seat.” She stormed out the front door and stomped to the backyard. She didn’t stop until she had nestled herself against Sloan’s body.

  “Abigail, are you all right?” he asked with concern.

  “Nope. Dad’s here.”

  She watched as Sloan glared at the house. Gordon’s gaze followed Sloan’s. A rumble escaped his throat. “Excellent. About time I go meet the man. Ready, old man?”

  “More than ready.”

  Abbey grasped Sloan’s arm as she felt him lurch. “Please give me a second. All right?”

  “Of course, luv.” Sloan wrapped his arms around her tightly. She buried herself against his soft, tight T-shirt. His warmth was a huge comfort. She breathed a silent thank you for a man as loving as her husband, not cold and domineering like her father.

  After a moment, she threaded her fingers in his. They watched Gordon retrieve the steaks from the grill and then followed him inside.

  Walter met them at the door. “Sloan, it’s great to meet you. I’m Walter Wright.”

  Abbey watched Sloan as he extended his hand to Walter. His ice-blue eyes were piercing cold. They made Abbey shiver. “It’s nice to meet you also.” He ushered Gordon and Abbey inside the house, never taking his eyes off Walter. Gordon continued into the kitchen, taking a protective post next to Mary.

  “I’m interested to hear about your current business opportunities,” Walter pried.

  “Well, Walter, I’d rather not speak of business tonight. I’ve been gone for three weeks doing nothing but business. Tonight is time for family. Tonight my mind and heart are only for your daughter.”
/>   "You have an entire lifetime to spend with her. All I need is five minutes of your time."

  "Again, it's family time tonight. No business."

  Abbey felt Sloan's hand tense against hers. The battle was about to begin. She gave his hand a squeeze. "Sloan, could you help me set the table, please, sweetheart?"

  "Of course, luv." Abbey tugged her Irishman away from Walter toward the kitchen.

  Dinner was a quiet, uncomfortable affair. Abbey felt sorry for poor Maggie and Bartholomew, who showed up just as the last platter was set on the table. They seemed absolutely baffled by the silent tension. Gordon sat next to Mary, keeping her as close to him as he could. The only sound other than the clinking of silverware on china had been the sound of Walter's positively grating voice.

  She had wedged herself between her husband and her father as a human barrier. It didn't matter. Walter kept pitching his various business ideas to Sloan. It seemed that the almighty dollar was the only thing that mattered. Certainly not Mom or me. Abbey glanced up at Sloan, waiting for him to lose his temper. He kept it in check. By the gentle smile on his face, Abbey knew it was for her sake that he did.

  Afterward, Abbey gathered the dishes from the table and took them to the kitchen. She stopped in the doorway as her eyes found Gordon and Mary at the sink. The Irishman had her mother pinned against the counter.

  "Gordon," Mary murmured, as she touched his arm.

  "Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep my temper? To keep from wringing his neck?” he replied, his brogue strained.

  "You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

  “When is this bloody lawyer getting back to you?”

  “Tomorrow. The day after.”

  “Fantastic.” Gordon ran a rough hand from her neck along her chin until he cradled her head. He pulled her to him and drove his lips against hers. Mary’s body melted into his as she moaned. She clung to him as she returned his kiss. Abbey spun on her toe and set the dishes back on the table. I really don’t need to see my mom and Gordon doing that.

  Abbey was jarred from her thoughts as she collided into another body. She looked up to find her father glaring at her.

  “Abbey, go convince your husband to back my business ideas,” he ordered.

  Abbey stared at him dumbfounded. “What you mean to say is that you want Sloan to give you money. Because I don’t think one thing you brought up at dinner was a legitimate business plan.”

  Walter stuck his index finger in her face as his turned red. “Listen, you little bitch. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Frankly, I do.”

  “Shut your pretty little mouth, bitch.”

  “Screw you, Dad.”

  Walter reared back his hand at his daughter. Abbey hissed as she tried to step away. Suddenly, Walter disappeared from her view. He was replaced by a very angry six-feet-six-inch tall Irishman. Sloan’s arm sheltered her from her father.

  “Listen!” Sloan shouted. “No one, and I mean no one, speaks to my Abigail like that. I have asked you numerous times to drop the business talk. You couldn’t respect that. I’m not interested in funding your ideas. Most of them have been on the market and failed, so I know what you’re really after. Just because you provided the sperm that conceived my wife doesn’t entitle you to my money. I don’t care who you are. You’re the man who abandoned my wife and her mother. This is my final warning. Heed it. Stay away from Abigail. And stay away from me. If you don’t, I will make you regret it.”

  Abbey wrapped her hand tightly in Sloan’s as he led her from the house. Before the door slammed shut, she caught sight of Gordon right behind them. His hand was wrapped tightly around Mary’s. She pulled it free, fighting a silent battle with him. She pressed one final kiss to his cheek and then nudged him to go. Gordon never took his eyes off her as he backed down the walk. He was still standing on the sidewalk staring at her when Sloan shepherded her away toward their house.

  »»•««

  Mary stood at the kitchen sink, her arms plunged deep in the hot water. After the way dinner had ended the night before, she was in no mood to clean up. Her heart raced and her nerves shook. She barely managed to tell Bartholomew and Maggie goodbye before she literally ran up to her bedroom and collapsed on her bed. It was hours before she fell asleep.

  She ran her tongue along her lip. She could still taste Gordon’s kiss, his arms holding her close. She could feel his heart race beneath her fingertips when she pressed her hands against his chest. She thought all she had was a school girl crush on the Irishman. After kissing him, all she wanted was to feel his mouth roam all over her. The thought kept her awake all night. It was enough for her to get up early to call the lawyer. I need to get Walter out of this house. Now. Or maybe I’ll just let Gordon stay. I’ll risk World War Three.

  Mary sighed and then scrubbed at the dish in her hand. She really wanted to call her daughter. Even growing up, Abbey was her closest confidant. Not that she had much to confide. But how could she confide how much she wanted Sloan’s handler? It’s not a conversation I can really have with my child. She also wanted to know what Walter had said to Sloan. Her ex-husband certainly didn’t hide his true intentions.

  She straightened as she heard footsteps on the stairs. Speak of the devil… “Good morning, Walter,” Mary greeted flatly.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Dishes. Why?”

  “I need you to call Abbey. Talk to her.”

  Mary glared over her shoulder. “Why exactly?”

  “You can make her see reason. You can convince her that Sloan needs to support me. The guy is worth billions. He can spare dear old dad-in-law a few hundred thousand. Sloan will listen to her.”

  Mary wiped her hands on a towel and then slowly turned toward him, glaring. “No. I won’t. You may have burnt the bridge between you and Abbey. I won’t. Abbey has been my world since she’s been born. I won’t ruin that.”

  Walter took a step toward her. “Yes, you will. I tell you that you will. You will do it.”

  “You may have bullied me before when we were married. I’m not going to be bullied now.”

  There was a knock at the door. Walter snarled at her before he disappeared to answer it. Mary turned back to the dishes. She barely sunk her hands back in the water when a hand grasped her arm, digging fingers into her skin. Walter spun her to him and pushed her into the counter. Mary winced as she gasped in pain. He pulled her to him until they were nearly touching noses. He held up an envelope with his free hand.

  “What the hell is this?” he demanded.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Your lawyer dropped it off. Care to explain?”

  Mary tossed her head back. She was sure it would be her last act of defiance. “Do you really think I was going to just let you have my house?”

  She braced herself as Walter threw her to the floor like a rag doll, kicking her as he did so. She looked up. His fist was raised. His face was flushed red in anger. She wrapped her arms over her head to protect herself.

  She wasn’t sure what startled her more—the sound of her screen door being nearly ripped off its hinges, or the sight of Walter being pinned off the ground against the china hutch as shards of glass rained on the tile floor. Or maybe it was the thick, murderous brogue that rumbled through the kitchen.

  “Get your things and get out,” Gordon growled. “If I ever see you occupy the same air as Mary, I will kill you. Understand?”

  “You can’t tell me what to do,” Walter blustered.

  “You came to exploit your son-in-law. My family. I’m here to protect my family.” Mary met Gordon’s brief gaze as he continued, “All of them.”

  Walter fell silent. Mary could see him shake in terror. Gordon dropped him to his feet and pointed up the staircase. “Go. Pack. Leave. Now.”

  Walter scuttled up the stairs. Gordon reached down to Mary, wrapping her small hand in his to help her stand. Then he turned toward the steps, leaving her behind him. Part
of her wished he would have held her for at least a moment. But by the sheer rage he seemed to be throwing off, she was glad he hadn’t.

  A few minutes later, Mary watched Walter slink down the stairs, dragging his bags behind him. He didn’t look at her. Like a scolded dog, he silently slipped out the front door.

  Gordon turned to her and pulled her into his arms. “Are you all right, lass?’

  “A few bruises, but I’m fine. How did you know?”

  “Did you think I was jesting about watching over you? I was sleeping in my truck outside the house. When your lawyer left, I thought I’d better check in on you. I’m glad I did.”

  “Me too.”

  Mary beamed up at Gordon. He smiled at her as he lovingly brushed at the darkening skin over her eye. He brushed his lips against hers. Mary’s heart fluttered as his kiss devoured her. She forgot about her pain. She forgot about Walter. All she knew was the Irishman in her arms.

  Chapter Five

  Abbey laughed happily to herself as she sat at the large oak desk in the back room of the gallery. She gazed at the pictures in her hand. The hazy image of her unborn child stared back at her.

  The ultrasound hadn’t started out well. She had driven to the appointment alone. And why wouldn’t she? Her husband was in Miami. He had been there for another three weeks. Even though the weather was still warm, summer had begun to change to fall. The leaves were starting to change color. And Sloan was missing it.

  However, as Abbey had stepped out of the little changing room at the doctor’s office wearing only a flimsy medical gown, the door had flown open. In the doorway stood Sloan in his expensive suit, gasping for breath.

  “Accident…on interstate….wanted to be here sooner…going to buy a helicopter,” he had panted. Abbey had laughed as she poured him a glass of water. He had gulped it down in one drink and then pressed a kiss to her lips.

  She had never been so happy to see him. He had been gone so long. It felt good to touch his face, to see the glimmer in his eyes. And the taste of his kiss made her weak in the knees.

  Sloan had held her hand in his as the technician ran the Doppler across her round belly, pointing out the baby’s feet, fingers, and spinal cord. At the end of the exam, she asked the inevitable question—did they want to know?