Your Hand in Mine: A Heartwood Novel

by Brea Viragh

  “Your momma didn’t raise you right.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You should know to take a kind word and move on.” Bud rested his palm on top of mine for a brief moment before scowling. “Something’s upset you. You got a funny look about you.”

  I kept the smile in place. “Now you’re the one who wasn’t raised right. Never tell a woman she looks funny. It’s a cardinal rule. Right up there along with never asking a woman about her weight.”

  “Why don’t we sit down outside with some fresh sweet tea and you can tell me all about it.” He hiked his thumb over his shoulder toward the patio, giving his waistband a break.

  “Fine, but I’m not telling you my weight.”

  There wasn’t really a chance to refuse. It was one of the traits I admired about him, I thought as he kept a firm hand on my shoulder. He drew me out onto the back porch where a pitcher and four glasses were artfully set on a picnic table. I’d put it out earlier as an attempt at staging. Trust Bud to take advantage of the setup.

  “Ray made the tea. Like I said. Perfect. Says it’s a secret family recipe.” Bud’s rough hands looked likely to break the slim handle of the pitcher. Still, he poured two glasses and held one out to me. “Look at this layer of sugar at the bottom. Hard to believe a few months ago we didn’t know each other.” He took a sip, puckered his lips, and stared around the patio at the array of furniture, the different colors and textures playing off the flowers. “You’ve gotten good, kid.”

  “No, I was always good. It’s taken you this long to notice.”

  “The boy bit off a lot here.” Bud sipped the sweet tea again. Then his face melted into a smile.

  It almost looked out of place on him. I’d gotten used to the grump. The ache in my chest kicked up again.

  “Lot of folks in town thought he wouldn’t be able to see the project to the end. Thought he might go bankrupt, decide to sell, all manner of things. They plain doubted him and his ability. I heard some say he had best stick to what he knows. Tending bar.”

  I leaned against the rail and once again saw the porch as it might be. A place to gather. A place to dance on a full moon night with children on their shoulders. It could be great. I wish I would be around to see it.

  “He wouldn’t have made it without you. I know that.”

  Intrigued, I blinked away my visions of the future and looked at Bud. “You don’t say?”

  “Before he hired you, he was unhappy. Stressed and worrying about how to stretch his dollar. He was in over his head. With this line of work, if you don’t push through the problems, you aren’t going to make it. And trust me, there are a lot of problems. The boys and me…we were concerned he’d lose himself. Throw his all into the work and miss his chance to meet a nice woman. Seems like we shouldn’t have been.” Bud leaned back next to me, looking through the open doors into the dining room. “He had his heart and mind set on the project. On his brother. He couldn’t see what he had right in front of him.”

  I hid the lump in my throat by taking a large gulp of tea. “I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate you spilling his secrets to me.”

  “Damn right. Still, some things need to be aired. He cares about you a great deal.” When I said nothing, Bud turned to me and set his nearly empty drink aside. “The boss man is a stubborn ass. He gets his mind on an idea, a dream, and it turns him to stone. Gets himself stuck on what other people are saying about him, too, which is a damn shame. His situation ain’t perfect, but he keeps his priorities straight. If you love him, Shar, then fight for him. And don’t you stop fighting until you make this right. You’re the only one who can.”

  It was a little embarrassing, having one of the men whose check I wrote come to me with his advice. More awkward to know he was right. I’d thrown up the white flag in the Fenton arena.

  Too soon? I wasn’t sure anymore.

  “I want to fight for him, Bud.” I leaned against the table and angled away from him, pushing my hair out of my face. “That’s part of my problem. What happens when the man in question doesn’t want to be fought for?”

  “Couldn’t tell you.”

  “And how did we end up going from compliments to demands?” I asked with a shake of my head.

  “He doesn’t realize he’s capable of doing more than taking care of his brother.” Bud sighed. “Managing this wreck of a place. He told me once at the bar that he doesn’t have room for anyone. I think he does. Love him with all his flaws, even when he tells you no. He’s stubborn, like I said, but you’re worse.”

  “I didn’t plan for this.”

  Bud smiled kindly. He inclined his head and gave me a nod of commiseration, sliding closer until he came to a seat next to me. “Who does?”

  “I didn’t know you were so smart.” I elbowed him in the side.

  “Well, life is full of surprises. This one happens to be a kick in the pooper.” More of a surprise was when he leaned down and pressed a whiskery kiss against the top of my head. “Of course, it’s up to you whether you take what I say into consideration or not. I’ll leave you to it.”

  “You dispense your wisdom then walk off? Without helping me clean up?”

  It wouldn’t matter. Bud was off with a whistle on his lips and a hitch of his tool belt on stiff hips. I was going to miss the old guy once the job came to an end. Ornery and idiotic as he tended to be, he was observant.

  I took hold of the two dirtied cups and brought them into the kitchen along with the pitcher. There would be other pieces to decorate the porch. Better than tea and unwarranted conversation.

  When I came into the living room after cleaning, Fenton stood on the front porch. The sky behind him bright and the shadows hiding his face.

  “Where did you come from?” I asked him.

  “Finishing up a few things by the shed. Had to get the mower over here one last time.”

  “You must be glad to be done,” I said.

  “Glad, and a bit nostalgic.” He continued to look at the porch columns and corbels. “I remember when I first bought this place. It took a week to clean up enough to reach the front door and an army to come over and deal with it. To help me deal with it. It was a wreck when I first asked you over to look.” He turned to me with a quizzical stare, his head cocked to one side. “You weren’t afraid. You stayed through all the shit. I didn’t expect you to.”

  I pursed my lips and stared right back at him. “Yeah, neither did I.”

  “I never did pay you enough, and I’m sorry. I know you spent your own money on the pergola. No,” he interrupted when I moved to speak. “I’m going to reimburse you for the extra you spent. I promise. One of these days, when we start making money, I’m going to pay you back for everything you’ve ever done for me, and more.” Then he turned and looked at me. My heart melted and if I’d planned it, I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect smile. Wide and quirked at the edges. Perfect because it was his.

  “You never told me why.”

  “Why I stayed?” I asked. “I knew your head wasn’t screwed on straight.”

  “No, it’s definitely a little crooked.”

  I gave him a half shrug for an answer. “I don’t know why I stayed. And I don’t know what to do with you now that it’s over.”

  “Why do you have to do anything with me?”

  “I swear, you’ve been more trouble to me than anyone else. Usually, I’m the one who turns out to be trouble,” I told him with an answering grin. “You’re the first man to turn the tides on me. To keep me unbalanced.”

  I watched him walk up the steps toward me. His shoulders set and footsteps sure. “None of them deserved you. Those other men. They were out of your league.”

  “No, none of them cared about me. They desired me, yes. Wanted my body. Sex is the easy part. A lot of people put too much stock in the physical.” I took my gaze higher when he stepped closer, reaching to accommodate our differences in height. “They don’t realize it’s the emotional that gets trippy.”
/>   Fenton didn’t seem to be bothered by the depth of the conversation. How we went from zero to three thousand and five in the space of a second. Unlike the other times I’d tried to push, this time, he was the one steering.

  When had the shift occurred?

  “Unlike you,” I continued, watching him, “being in a relationship never bothered me. Neither did the sex. I enjoyed the dance. Whatever you want to call it. I managed to date two at a time, sometimes three, and at the end of the night I’m alone. It didn’t hurt until I met you.”

  “I know I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry. We’re not dancing anymore.”

  “No, we’re not.”

  He stopped a foot away. “I see you for who you are. Just like you see me. You’ve always seen me.”

  “You can’t keep running, Fenton. Sooner or later, you’re going to exhaust yourself.”

  “I see that clearly enough. I’m not sure I can give you what you need. You deserve the world.”

  My heart warmed at his honesty. “At least you’re done with your stories.”

  He squared his shoulders, rolled them, shrugged off whatever was on his mind. “I have a few stories I could tell you. Excuses, more like. About me and my past. My behavior. One day maybe you’ll let me tell them right.” Fenton looked toward the kitchen, then back at me. He crooked a finger and beckoned for me to follow him. Curious with the charade, I followed.

  “What are you doing?” I wanted to know.

  “Come with me somewhere.” He motioned toward the car. “I want to show you something.”

  “Sure you don’t want to take me into the woods and leave me for dead?”

  “If you keep nagging me, maybe. It’s something else. Something better. Trust me.”

  I went with him. Like I was in a position to refuse. Yeah, okay.

  During the drive, my stomach tightened, the anticipation making me nervous. During the day, I’d recommitted to the decision to move on from Fenton. It had come hard and didn’t want to stay. Fought me like an animal. But my brain knew it was the best move. Despite every cell in my body wanting to stay and try to fix him.

  At last, he pulled off the road and parked the car along a line of large bushes. I opened the door and managed to get out of the truck and stand without toppling over. Fenton had refused to tell me where we were going, stoically keeping his mouth zipped until we reached whatever destination he’d planned as a surprise. Stubborn ass.

  I refused to complain. I grit my teeth and wondered what he was up to, what he was planning.

  “Well?” I asked.

  I waited while he walked around the hood of the car, his shoulders dropping. “Well, what?”

  “I want to know where I am and why you brought me out into the middle of nowhere.”

  His lips tightened. Then he reached out for a strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. “Don’t you trust me anymore?”

  The contact made me shiver. “Do you want an honest answer?”

  I shaded my eyes and looked around the large expanse of brush. I’d noticed the sign when we made the turnoff. The careworn and weather-beaten real estate sign proclaiming the land for sale. It looked like someone had stuck it in the ground decades ago and left the property to the whim of fate. Fate hadn’t been kind.

  “Come on.” Fenton held out his hand and tugged me closer.

  The second our skin touched, an electric shock shot up my arm and traveled all the way down my legs. I decided then and there. My body was a no-good traitor. I was going to have to double down and work extra hard to stick to my guns.

  “What do we do now?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at me.

  I took a deep breath when my head felt dizzy and my legs trembled. His smile tended to do that to me. Especially when one side quirked while the other remained stationary.

  He walked over a slight hill covered with knee-high grass and weeds. Then I watched him, standing and taking in the look on his face. Studying him. What was his play today?

  “You tell me. You’re the one itching for conversation,” I said. “It seems to me that you have something you want to say. What is it going to be, Fenton? What’s burdening you?”

  “It might be something.” He linked his fingers through mine and walking forward. “Something important.”

  “I think you need to stop touching me,” I said, narrowing my eyes, bracing for bad news. “And before you say anything, I want to tell you. I’ll be going my own way from now on. I’m done waiting around for a guy who is never going to see me the way I want to be seen. I’m going to live my life, and you need to set off on your next adventure. I’ve equipped—” I paused, stumbling over a sinkhole in the ground. Disgusted when I reached out to clutch Fenton.

  He brought me into his arms and lifted me up and away from the swell. “Be careful.”

  I lost my train of thought for a moment. Emotion spiraled beneath my sternum, and the longer he stared at me, standing in the middle of some field with the sun burning down on us the more it spread.

  Finally bursting out of my mouth in a stream of continuous blather. “I’m not going to change my mind, Fenton. I’m done waiting. I always thought I would be here when you changed your mind, when you figured things out, and the truth is, I can’t do that. I will never love anyone else as much as I love you, but you know what? I’m worth more than that. I don’t deserve to sit around and wait.”

  “You’re moving on? That’s your plan?” he said, his lips twitching.

  I opened my mouth, then closed it, no sound able to escape. Then finally I was able to say, “Yes.”

  “No, go on. I want to hear more about this plan of yours.”

  “I’m done.” I shook my head. “My plan doesn’t involve you.”

  “Okay, well, you’ve said your bit and made your stance clear. It’s my turn to talk to you, and you’re going to listen to me. I was content to be alone,” he told me. His eyes were dark and hooded.

  Ouch! My breath caught. “That much is obvious.”

  “You’re smarter than I am. Stronger, more resilient.”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  His fingers lingered on mine before he shifted away, stepping backward while keeping eye contact. “And better, I’m sure.”

  There was that little finger crook again. Like a tug beneath my sternum, I stumbled forward, down the hill and further away from the car. “You know, I have things to do,” I said. “I don’t have time to muddle around in the woods day. I’m still itching from those mosquito bites the other night.”

  His hands fell open. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t be stronger for you. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  “Don’t, okay? I don’t want to hear any more excuses from you. This is too little, too late.”

  “You’re going to let me get this out. Now come over here. I want you to look at something.” He pointed off toward a group of trees to the left.

  I did as he commanded as I was curious to hear what he had to say. After all these weeks of a tentative truce between us.

  “What am I looking at?”

  When I turned to him, there was excitement clearly written on his face. “This place was supposed to be a country club. They started work on a golf course and putting green, even put the building up before the project lost money and the bank foreclosed on them.”

  The summer heat beat down on us and refused to let up. I swiped my arm across my forehead, struggling to see. Yes, between the trees I could make out the vague outline of a brick colonial one-story, the pointed roof and strong lines of the four walls.

  “You brought me out to an abandoned country club.”

  “We’re at the highest point of the property. Look down.”

  I did and saw that beneath the grass and weeds was sand. We were standing on the putting green. From here, the land unrolled down to the building. With the sun shining down and the trees rustling in a slight breeze, I felt a familiar tingle. Starting in my chest and working through my extremities. It was excitem
ent. It was fire, and freedom, and a world of possibilities.

  “I don’t trust enough.” Fenton’s voice came out of nowhere and mingled seamlessly with my daydream fantasies. The way he said it sounded more of a bark than an admission. “I’ve had too much bad luck and not enough faith to see me through with a level-head. I’d made up my mind to focus on Liam, on my projects, and shut out any possibility of something different. Then you show up.”

  I held my hands to my sides. “I know. I’m a tough cookie to handle. I put you through a lot.”

  “I thought you were too tough for me. When I first met you, and now.” He stifled a laugh. “I know you’re tougher than I am, it’s a fact. But I figure I’ve got a chance to fix everything I screwed up between us.”

  “Or keep making the same excuses, the same mistakes, and pulling me backward.” I shook my head, turning around so I didn’t have to look at him. I couldn’t, not if I wanted to keep my composure. Hard Shari had flown the area like a felon. This was Short Shari holding the reins. Feeling her mending heart begin to shatter again.

  Instead of answering right away, he closed the distance between us and dragged me into the shelter of his arms. Took hold of my hand once more and kissed the skin at my wrist. I wanted to stay strong and let him know I meant business. I wasn’t going to fall for his charms again. Then bumps rose to light at his touch and I knew whatever I said would be betrayed by physical evidence.

  “We’re going to be okay,” he said tenderly. “I know that now. You and me. We’re going to be okay, and your plan, Shar? I’m sorry, but I hate it.” He tipped his head back and groaned. “I hate it so much.”

  I stared at him, quiet for a minute. Sweat glistened on his exposed skin. He looked sweet, I thought. Sweet and good enough to eat. I pushed at his chest. “You’re not allowed to hate it. It’s my plan and I couldn’t be happier with it.”

  “Wouldn’t you be happier with this?” Fenton used his one free hand to gesture toward the open space.