But I’d changed, and coming home wasn’t really coming home at all.
“Brielle.” Celia’s voice was cool, her blue eyes disparaging. “So nice of you to come for a visit.”
“Oh, well, I couldn’t miss Fiona’s wedding,” I said, lowering my duffel bag to the floor and shrugging off my purse. Penny had gone to stay with her older brother, who she barely knew, rather than stay with me, which would mean staying with Celia and Frank, who so clearly hated her. I’d kinda wanted to go with her myself.
“Brielle.”
“Hi Frank, you’re looking good.” I held my hand out to him, in an attempt at being polite. Frank didn’t even lift his eyes from the newspaper his nose was buried in. I let my hand fall, looking from Celia to Frank, and then back again.
“If you’d rather, I can stay somewhere else.”
There was a heavy pause. and I knew that Celia, at least, wouldn’t want the scandal that would come with not welcoming her only child home.
“Actually, perhaps that would be best,” she said, her chin tipping upward. “I’m quite busy with Fiona’s wedding, and Frank certainly doesn’t need you in his way.”
What was there to say to that? Nothing. I scooped up my bags, pausing in the doorway, feeling the weight of the moment laid on my shoulders. What a homecoming. “Why did you send me letters, if you didn’t give a shit about me?”
Celia gasped, her hand going to her throat. “I never sent you any letters, why would I when you so obviously didn’t care about anyone but yourself?”
I frowned at her, bitterness and anger surging up through my body. “Well, at least the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree then, does it?”
I slammed the door behind me, ignoring the gasps, the bellow of Frank to apologize to the woman who never really was my mother.
Down to my last hundred dollars, I couldn’t afford a cab into the city, nor had I had a chance to charge my phone yet to call for one. Shit. Hiking my bags higher up onto my shoulder I started to walk, knowing from experience that unless I hitched a ride, this was about to be a long damn walk. Yet, despite that, I was kinda happy in a weird, told-my-mother-off kinda way.
My bag dug into my shoulder, the dusty road kicked up puffs of dirt with each step I took and I reminded myself that this was where I’d chosen to be.
That even though Darwin’s death had ripped me apart, it had also saved me from a life of ‘good enough.’ A life of never realizing my own worth.
“You know, Darwin,” I whispered, as if someone might hear me and call me crazy for talking to a dead man. “I still miss you every day. I still think about you every night. I hope you know that. I hope you know that your heart stole mine. I’m not sure there will ever be anyone else … and I’m beginning to think that’s okay.”
The wind blew across my face, the dust swirled and I shut my mouth to keep the dirt out of it. The distant rumble of a truck headed my way spun me around. I stuck my thumb out as I walked backward.
Silver chrome flashed in the sunlight, the big Dodge truck slowing as it approached me. The driver’s tinted window slowly rolled down and I just stared. Couldn’t quite remember to breathe because for just a split second, I could have sworn I was looking at Darwin, could have believed it was his crooked grin smiling out at me.
Which was ridiculous because the driver didn’t really look anything like Darwin; they were almost opposites in build and coloring.
The driver was a bit scruffy, he had black face hair, an angular face, and eyes the color of the Caribbean that snared me like no one since … Darwin.
“Need a ride? I’m headed into town.” His voice, a deep baritone, rumbled straight through me and my stomach tightened, muscles recognizing something in him that had been missing with all the men I’d dated over the last eighteen months.
Swallowing hard, I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.” Hitching my bags higher on my shoulder, I jogged around to the other side of the truck, my heart racing as if I were sprinting with a twenty-pound bag on my back.
I stepped up into the truck, but he didn’t start to drive, not right away. He just stared at me, his brows slightly crinkled as if I were a puzzle he couldn’t quite piece together.
He tipped his head to one side, a smile creeping across his lips. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”
I stared back at him. “No, I don’t think so.”
“I’m Micah Kingsley.” He held his hand out to me and I took it, a jolt of recognition shooting through me, as if I’d held his hand before, as if I’d known him before this moment. A feeling of belonging I had decided wasn’t possible for a second time, not in my life.
But that was ridiculous—
His hand tightened over mine. “Are you sure we haven’t met?”
“I’d remember you.” Heat swirled up my neck and into my face. I dislodged my hand from his.
“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Micah settled back into his seat and put the truck in gear. I glanced over at him, took in dusty jeans encasing long legs, scuffed black cowboy boots and a well worn button down shirt that was rolled up at the cuffs. He was lean, but I could see the muscles flex in his forearms under the edge of his shirt. Could see by the way he held himself that the man had the build of a natural cowboy. Long, lean muscles, legs that would grip a horse with ease. So very different from Darwin. Behind the seat, I could see pieces of a bridle and several rope halters. Most definitely a cowboy. There was nothing here but a bit of lust, which I knew from past experience was at best, not a good idea. Didn’t mean I couldn’t be nice though.
“I’m Brielle.” I said. “McGraw.”
“Nice to meet you, Brielle McGraw.”
I took a breath, the scent of horse sweat, hay and leather filling my nose. For some people, they’d think it was awful, but to me it was the smell of home. “You work with horses?”
“Yes, I train the young ones and work with the difficult ones. Is it that easy to tell?”
I laughed. “The smell gave you away.”
“Did you just insult me, after I offered you a ride out of this heat?” He smiled, just one side of his mouth lifting up at the corner. The side I could see and my heart paused, waiting for a dimple to appear.
Of course he didn’t have a dimple, but my heart shook as if there should have been.
“No, I like the smell. It’s … honest.” God, what was wrong with me? How could a smell be honest? But he seemed to like the answer, nodding slowly.
“Horses are that, if nothing else.”
He leaned back in his seat, one hand resting lightly on the steering wheel, and again I was looking at the way his muscles shifted under his skin. Damn, just that small movement and I was squirming in my seat. Yup, definitely a lust reaction.
His eyes flicked over to me. “What about you? Are you from around here?”
“I grew up here, but I’ve been away for a couple of years. Travelling.”
“And you must know horses … .” His eyebrows quirked upward.
I nodded and gripped my bags tight. Not that I was afraid of him, but the way the air vibrated between us felt so much like when I was with Darwin it hurt, and I didn’t want to hurt anymore.
“I was a vet tech, I worked with Dr. Winston.”
Micah’s eyes widened. “You worked with Dr. Winston? Damn, you must have some pretty thick skin to work with that old bastard.”
“Hey.” I frowned at him. “He was good to me, and a great vet.”
“Yes, he is a good vet, but he’s kind of an asshole.”
My jaw dropped. “And you think I was insulting you? Seriously, Dr. Winston is maybe not the easiest guy to get along with—”
He lifted his one hand, and made a cutting motion through the air between us. “Time out. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just that my experiences with him have not all gone that well.”
I snorted. “Maybe he’s not the asshole in the equation, ever consider that?”
Micah glanced over at me, but I stared straight ahead. If h
e wanted to kick me out of his truck, that was fine. But I wasn’t going to sit here and listen to some stranger badmouth my old boss. Maybe the old Brielle would have, but she’d died with Darwin.
“God, why do I feel like I should be apologizing to you?” He grumbled.
Whatever recognition I’d thought I’d felt had dissipated under our argument. “Because you’re being rude, that’s why.”
“I’m not being rude, I’m being honest. You’re telling me that when you worked with Dr. Winston you never called him an asshole under your breath? Not even once?”
Damn. I tightened up my shoulders, squeezing them toward my ears. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Fine, I will admit that he could be an asshole, but he never was to me. I just don’t like hearing it from someone who obviously doesn’t know him that well.”
Micah let out a deep, rumbling laugh that wreaked havoc on my body. I took a short sharp breath and held it.
“I know that old coot probably better than you do.”
“How so?” Micah couldn’t know Dr. Winston that well; I’d only been gone a year and a half, and I was pretty sure that a flashy cowboy like Micah would be hard to miss if he’d been around before I’d left. Then again, I probably wouldn’t have noticed him at that point in my life.
“He’s my uncle.”
I covered my face with my hands, embarrassment flooding me. “Oh. I guess—”
“It’s nice to know that at least someone in this town would defend him. Even if most days he doesn’t deserve it.” He slowed the truck to take a corner, and I stole another glance at him.
“So are you in town for long?”
“Permanently, actually. I have a long term position at one of the big farms here.”
Damn it again, why did my heart thump faster when he said that? I smiled out the window so he couldn’t see my pleasure at those simple words.
“You know I can see you smiling in the reflection?”
Laughing, I shook my head. “That isn’t fair, you can’t do that.”
“Do what?” His unusually blue eyes danced.
“I just got home, I’ve got jet lag, and I can barely keep my eyes open, which means I can’t be held accountable for my words and/or actions for the next twenty four hours. In other words, you can’t tease me.”
With another laugh, Micah took a turn, and within minutes we were at a familiar coffee shop and all the laughter died in me. I could see Darwin, sitting at our table, smiling at me, dimple flashing for a brief second before his eyes softened.
Darwin … .
Micah didn’t notice my hesitation, or the way my breath hitched in my chest. “In that case, we better get some coffee into you, and we can swap Uncle Bruce stories. Come on, I love this place. It has the best coffee and homemade donuts in the county.”
In a daze, I slid out of my seat and followed him into the coffee shop, got in line with him, ordered coffee, my eyes tearing up as he ordered donuts.
This was not happening … .
I clung to my coffee cup, followed Micah, but when he headed for the table I’d always sat at with Darwin, I cleared my throat. “How about by the window?”
He paused, gave me a nod, and we sat away from the other table, the one with all the memories I couldn’t—and maybe if I was honest with myself—didn’t want to escape.
“What brought you home?” Micah asked, right before he dove into the plate of donuts.
“I’ve been away for a long time. And a … friend … is getting married,” I said, stirring my cup absently, my heart and mind a million miles away. Was Fiona my friend? No, but there was a connection between us; Darwin would always be there holding both our hearts, even after he was gone. Well, maybe not Fiona’s heart, it hadn’t taken her long to get over him … .
“Hey, where’d you go?”
I jerked in my seat, feeling the blood drain out of my face. “What did you say?”
Confusion filtered slowly over his face, and he shook his head slowly. “You just seemed to go somewhere else, like you weren’t here.”
Heart pumping hard, I stood up; I couldn’t deal with this. These memories. “Thanks for the coffee, Micah. But I think I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
I had to get out of there, away from him, away from the memories and the things he was doing to me without even trying. This wasn’t a lust reaction, not in the least. How was it possible that Micah could be so much like Darwin? How could he stir the same emotions in the jagged edges of what was left of my heart?
“Hey, I didn’t mean to pry.” He’d followed me out of the coffee shop, and I did my best not to look at him.
“I’m sorry, I just … you remind me too much of someone.”
His eyes softened. “Maybe that’s not a bad thing.”
Startled, I spun to look up into his face, to see that he wasn’t teasing me. I swallowed hard, put my bags between us.
“Goodbye, Micah.”
He smiled. “If you need a job, I could use a helper. Someone who knows horses.”
“I’m not staying.” The words slipped out of me, but I knew they were true. Only a few hours here and already I knew I couldn’t stay. There was too much of Darwin here, and I could never let my guard down. I could never tell anyone how much it hurt me to lose him, how much I’d loved him, and loved him still. I didn’t want to sully his memory, or his reputation with what had been between us.
Micah tipped his half empty coffee cup in my direction. “That would be perfect. I don’t need a full time helper, just for a little while. A month at the longest.”
My hurried steps slowed, and I turned back to him. “A month?”
“Give or take a few days.”
A month of work, that would get me through Fiona’s wedding, would keep me busy and my mind on things other than Darwin. But working with Micah … I wasn’t so sure that was a good idea. In the extremely short time I’d known him, he’d sparked things in me, emotions and memories, that confused and scared me.
I stiffened my back, pushing the old Brielle away. This was what I’d been looking for all along, a spark that reminded me life was worth it. “Okay, yeah, that would work. When do I start?”
“How about now? I have a colt I need to help out and could use an extra set of hands.”
With a nod, before my nerves got the better of me, I headed back toward him. He held out his hand and I held out mine.
Our fingers touched, wrapped tightly around one another as we shook hands, all business. But if the flare in his eyes, and the spark of electricity as our skin touched, was any indication, it would be a test to keep our relationship business only. I swallowed hard, but managed to give him a smile, one that I felt all the way through me.
Because I knew that for the first time since Darwin died, I was looking at a man who had a chance at stealing the last pieces of my shattered heart.
14
BRIELLE, YOU GOT him?” Micah asked me, his hand on my shoulder. The six month old, black bay colt danced on the end of my line, shaking his head and snorting at me. Orphaned at four months old, he’d been running pretty much wild since then, and this was, apparently, his first time with a halter and lead rope on.
“Yeah, we’re okay.” I worked the rope with gloved hands, easing the pressure with every step the colt took in the direction I asked him to go. This was our first stop, and the jet lag was really starting to kick in despite the coffee, but the colt was coming along, and I didn’t want to stop just yet.
“You’re smart and handsome, aren’t you, darling?” I crooned to the colt, his ears flicking forward.
“Damn, rather forward for our first day working together, don’t you think? If you start calling me darling, I’ll have to resort to giving you a nickname too.” Micah smiled over at me from the paddock next to me and the colt.
I made a face at him. “I was talking to my favorite boy here, not you.”
“Oh, sure, that’s what you say now.”
Laug
hing softly to myself, I focused on the colt, forced away the warmth that spread through me when I looked at Micah and caught him smiling at me. I continued to ask the colt to move, forward, back, sideways. He was a smart boy for sure, and by the length of his legs, shape of his body and already well-muscled hindquarters, he’d be a real mover on the track. Jean had taught me a lot while I’d worked on his farm, techniques that were coming in handy now. Techniques that were impressing Micah, which didn’t hurt at all.
By the end of our time at that barn, I had the colt walking nicely by my side, with only a few minor corrections.
“You have a real knack with him,” Micah said as the owner led the colt away.
“I wasn’t kidding, he’s smart.”
We headed toward Micah’s truck, weaving our way between paddocks. Micah’s shoulder bumped into mine, casual, like it was an accident. “Where can I pick you up tomorrow?”
That was a good question. Where the hell was I going to stay? My only option was with Celia and Frank, much as I hated to buckle and go back. I gave him directions to their place, cringing as they came out of my mouth. Even if they were pissed at me, I was a grown up enough to deal with them. At least for one night.
“Are you close to your parents?” His eyes flicked over to me and I suspected he’d seen me flinch.
“My mother and stepfather aren’t happy with me right now, and for the most part, no, we aren’t close.” I slumped a little in my seat, sliding my hands up and down my thighs, my fingers finding my thumb ring and spinning it for the first time in months. “What about you?”
“Just my dad. My mom passed when I was pretty young.”
“I’m sorry, that must have been hard.”
He shrugged, checked his mirror and changed lanes. “I guess. I don’t really remember her. You don’t know what you’ve lost if you never had it in the first place.”
His words struck through me, and I asked him a question that had burned inside me for the last eighteen months, wondering what a cowboy would have to say to it. “Do you think that old saying is true, it’s better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all?”
Ninety-Eight (Contemporary Romance) Page 14
