Time To Learn (Believe Book 3)

by Karen Ferry

  Seeing him at our table chatting with Ailith and Mum was both strange and nice.

  Strange because it has been so long since a man has been around for dinner.

  Nice because his presence made us laugh more than we have done in years.

  I don’t know what to make of him. On one hand, he’s a complete and utter womaniser, but on the other, he’s just easy to be around. Fun. Relaxing.

  That is, when he doesn’t look at me in that quiet, intense way of his. Whenever his fingers brushed against mine, or when he looked at me, I wanted to give in to the yearning he elicits inside me.

  I don’t know if I’m strong enough to keep resisting him.

  When he’s near, I forget the darkness. I smile more. I laugh again. I feel warm instead of cold; safe instead of scared; full instead of unfulfilled.

  Given the short time I’ve known him, it doesn’t make any sense at all.

  I worry that, if I’m not careful, I’ll have revealed all my deepest, darkest, disturbing secrets, and he’ll run, screaming as he goes.

  The problem is that now I’ve spent more time with him, I don’t want him to leave.

  But…at the same time, I do.

  Crap. Even my thoughts don’t make any sense at all.

  I look down at my words, almost willing myself to tear the paper out of my journal, crumble it in my hands, and burn it in the fireplace behind me.

  Then again…a journal is not necessarily meant to be a work of art. I don’t have to write in neat, orderly script. It’s just a place for me to write whatever comes to mind. A place to bury my secrets. A way to keep sane in the chaos that, most days, fills my mind.

  I lean back in bed, closing the journal. It’s only nine p.m., too early for bed, and I’m not tired. I wonder if Kristian meant it when he said he’d start getting his things sorted out and come by tomorrow with the first haul.

  I wonder if he’ll bring some of his artwork? I’d like to see more of it.

  “Enough.”

  Annoyed with myself—and with my journal—I get up and grab a cardigan. I turn off the light and head out of my room. Careful not to make a sound, I take a peek in Ailith’s room next to mine. She’s sprawled all over the bed, teddy bears all around her, and her mouth is open. I smile as I close the door and then tiptoe downstairs. I find Mum in the kitchen, writing something in her own journal.

  “Can’t sleep?” I ask her as I sit down next to her.

  She smiles at me as she closes the journal.

  “Not really. I feel restless, I guess.”

  I lean my elbow on the table and rest my head in my palm.

  “That doesn’t sound like you. Why?”

  She shrugs as she sits back in her seat.

  “Just thinking about tonight. Kristian seems nice.”

  I nod once, keeping my thoughts to myself.

  “He’s young,” she continues as she stands up and goes to the kitchen counter. “Or maybe I only think that because I’m feeling my age tonight.”

  “You’re not that old, Mum,” I smile at her.

  She pauses and turns a wry look my way.

  “Thank you, dear,” she mutters drily, making my smile widen. She plugs the kettle, sitting next to the sink, into its socket and turns it on. “No, I’m not old, but I’m sixty-five now. I’m older than I was.”

  As the kettle starts to hiss, I sit up in my seat.

  “Is everything okay?”

  She leans back on the counter and crosses her arms in front of her.

  “I’m fine, I promise.”

  I slump, relieved, when her eyes gentle.

  “Sometimes, I just miss your dad something fierce, and then I come here.” She jerks her chin at the journal resting only millimetres away from my hand. “I sit down and pretend that he’s on a trip, and then I write him a letter. I tell him about my joys and my sorrows. All the small and big things happening.”

  “I miss him, too,” I whisper, my breath hitching.

  She smiles gently at me.

  “I know. He was taken from us so soon—too soon—and not a day goes by when I don’t wish he was here. But…” She sniffles as she takes a shaky breath. “He’s not. Writing those letters to him help lessen my heartache. Tonight, it was particularly bad, though.”

  I dab at the tears falling on my cheeks.

  “Where do you find your strength, Mum?”

  The kettle switches itself off, and she turns around to grab two mugs before she answers.

  “I have you and Ailith. I have the farm, the horses, and Sally.”

  At the sound of her name, Sally raises her head from her place next to the Aga stove. I turn my head to smile at the soft expression in Mum’s eyes as she walks towards me. She puts down the mugs before she turns around to fetch some teabags and the kettle.

  “Everything on this soil—here where our home is—feeds my strength, Laura,” she sighs as she sits down. “It’s in the air, the earth, the water around us. I know you don’t care much for the legends and myths, but…” She gives me a pointed stare. “I believe in them. I believe that some kind of the old magic still lives here, and every little bit of that magic helps when I’m feeling low.”

  I nod, even though I don’t understand her at the same time.

  “Don’t you feel the same?”

  Her question throws me for a moment.

  “I don’t know,” I answer on a small shrug, dunking the teabag to bide my time. “I do know I feel at peace here. As if I belong,” I concede on a small frown. “I’ve always felt that way.”

  Mum removes the teabag, a slight frown marring her face.

  “I’m glad you feel that way, but…” She blows the steam rising from the mug, and I wait patiently for her to gather her thoughts. “But I wonder if this place is enough for you?”

  My eyes widen in surprise.

  “Of course it’s enough. I’m happy here. I can’t imagine ever leaving.”

  “Are you sure that’s your heart and not your head talking right now?”

  I shake my head at her, getting a tad annoyed at her cryptic ways.

  “You confuse me, Mum. My heart and my head are one and the same in this matter—they want the same things, but, given the choice, I’ll follow my head. Not wherever my emotions lead me. I did that once before, and look where that got me?”

  Mum sighs as she sits back in her seat.

  “You’re so stubborn.”

  “Takes one to know one,” I counter at once.

  “Now, don’t do that, please.”

  I blink innocently at her.

  “Don’t do what?”

  She sighs and shakes her head, clearly aggravated with me.

  “Don’t turn this around on me, changing the subject like that.”

  Crap.

  “All I’m saying is that I’ve followed my heart before, Mum,” I whisper. “It brought me nothing but pain and grief—am I wrong for being cautious? Is it so bad that I want to prevent that from happening again?”

  Mum takes my hand and holds it close with both of hers as she leans forward in her seat, a fierce expression in her eyes.

  “No, of course not. But remember this—following your heart also brought you your daughter. That bright, shooting star lying in bed upstairs?”

  My throat clogs up with suppressed tears. All I can do is nod, unable to form any words for fear of breaking down in front of her.

  “Out of all the darkness and chaos, you were given her—the most precious gift on earth. That should remind you that something genuinely good came from the unlikeliest of places.”

  I inhale deeply.

  “What are you trying to say, Mum?” I whisper.

  She releases my hands only to frame my face. She tucks some loose strands of my hair behind my ear and presses our foreheads close together.

  “Don’t lock away your heart forever,” she whispers.

  I can’t stop the tears anymore and close my eyes as I let them fall.

  “I don’t know
where the key is, Mum,” I cry.

  “You’ll find it. Probably when you least expect it. The young man I saw tonight?”

  I nod, still unable to meet her gaze.

  “He. Is. Good,” she stresses. “I know it. I can feel it in my heart. You will too, eventually.”

  I clench my teeth, doing everything in my power to keep my silence. I’m afraid I’ll say something scathing or hurtful if I speak now.

  That Turley stubbornness is a hard habit to break.

  “Now, drink your tea, sweetheart,” Mum says before she places a soft kiss on my cheek. She caresses my cheek once, and I open my eyes. The knowing smile on her lips surprises me while it scares me at the same time.

  Silently, Mum gets up, walks to the sink, and pours away her forgotten tea. I take a shaky breath as she grabs her journal and pen from the table, and she pats my shoulder once as she walks past me.

  “Goodnight, Laura,” she murmurs.

  I unclench my teeth and gulp in a deep lungful of air as I hear the click of the door shutting behind me.

  “Goodnight,” I whisper, but it’s too late.

  A sense of claustrophobia fills me from within, and I start gasping for breath. Desperation to get away, to get out, takes a firm hold of me, and I lunge up and run to the backdoor. I wrench it open, ignoring the bark from Sally as I, with wheezing breaths, sprint out into the courtyard.

  I try to run from my mind, which is screaming at me to stop.

  But I can’t stop. I just can’t.

  Panic leads me to the paddock at the far end of our grounds, and when the soft whinnying from the horses reaches my ears, I finally start to slow down. Breath heaving, I stop in front of the fence closest to me, leaning on it as I cry into the night.

  It’s been a long time since the past has been able to hold me in its grasp like it’s doing right now.

  I put my head on my arms, trying to pull myself together. I feel something nudging my shoulder and sniffle as I raise my head.

  Thunder’s watchful eyes meet mine, and my breath hitches as I take in that he’s the one who nudged me.

  “Hey, b-boy,” I stutter. “Thank you for trying to make me feel better.”

  I’m scared he’ll get spooked if I move, but in my heart, I wish I could lean on him. The fence separating our bodies makes it difficult, so, instead, I keep gazing into his brown eyes.

  “I’ll be okay,” I whisper as he raises his head, blowing his warm breath over my cheek. The trust he’s showing me at this very moment makes me forget the past a little, and slowly, the dark memories fade away. My shattered heart heals a little.

  Finally, as Thunder settles his head on my shoulder, I dare to raise my arms to place them around his neck. He lets out a long breath, settling in, and then the floodgates open again.

  “Thank you,” I sob into his long mane, burrowing into his comfort.

  It must be my imagination, or maybe I’m even dreaming, because, for a second, I think I hear a soft whisper in my ear, floating in the wind, and then it’s gone. But…it’s not possible.

  I don’t recognise the words. I only know they sounded like Gaelic.

  “We’ll be okay,” I murmur as my tears dry on my cheeks. “We’re survivors, aren’t we, Thunder? Whatever happens, we’ll make it. It’s not a choice. It’s who we are.”

  Thunder leans into my arms, and, despite the havoc inside my head, I smile and breathe in the familiar scent. Horses don’t smell bad.

  Instead, they always remind me of home.

  “Yes. We’ll be okay,” I repeat.

  15

  Laura

  It’s strange having a man I truly want living so close to me. The last thing I expected was to meet Kristian, and developing very improper thoughts about someone so much younger than me is frightening me to death.

  I haven’t been at his flat above the stables since he moved in three days ago, so I have no idea if he feels settled in yet. I should probably have dropped by to see if everything’s okay, but I still feel that it’s necessary to keep my distance. But each night when I go to bed, I can’t stop myself from looking up at his windows, wondering what he’s doing.

  Like I’m doing right now. I’ve just come out of the shower, and while I’m wearing a thin night robe, I’ve switched off my lights. I don’t want him to catch me gawking, especially so late at night.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” I whisper into the darkness of the night. “Why are you making me remember what desire feels like?”

  My phone vibrating on the nightstand breaks the spell I’m under, and I pick it up.

  “It’s as if he’s a mind reader,” I whisper before I answer Kristian’s call. “Hey, what’s up?” My voice sounds too breathy, too needy, and I quickly clear my throat.

  “Can’t sleep?”

  The sleepy rumble shoots through me and hits every cell in my body, making the urge to go to him so much stronger. I suppress a shiver as I sit down on my bed.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “It’s after eleven in the evening, and your lights were on a few seconds ago.”

  A slow smile spreads across my lips at his answer.

  “Maybe.”

  “Yeah, thought so. Neither can I.”

  Oddly enough, the silence that settles between us isn’t awkward even though it should be. It’s comforting, and I sigh softly.

  “I’m nervous about getting my tattoo,” I whisper.

  Liar.

  The amused chuckle makes my belly flutter.

  “Please try not to worry, Laura,” he says softly. “It’s honestly not that bad. But that’s actually why I phoned you…”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, how about we drive into town tomorrow before the shop opens and I’ll do it then?”

  My belly erupts with butterflies.

  “But my appointment isn’t until Thursday.” I panic slightly. “Won’t Alex mind?”

  I can hear the amusement in his voice when he replies.

  “Nope. I’ve already texted him, asking him if the shop is free. You haven’t changed your mind about it, have you?”

  “No.”

  “So why wait?”

  I don’t have an answer for him.

  “Well, I suppose you’re right. Plus, if I end up fainting or do anything embarrassing, at least there won’t be any other witnesses there—except you. I don’t think you’d be so cruel to tell on me, would you?”

  “Hmm…”

  I don’t like the sound of that hmm.

  “Kristian?” I squeak as the nerves flare up again.

  “Calm down, please. I’d never dream of divulging any of your secrets.”

  The butterflies settle down, and I breathe a small sigh of relief.

  “Okay, what time do you want me?”

  I bite my tongue at the thoughtless choice of words.

  The sound of Kristian clearing his throat does funny things to my insides.

  “How about eight-ish?”

  “That’s good with me.” I suppress a yawn and then murmur, “I think I’ll turn in now. Goodnight, Kristian.”

  “Goodnight, Laura. I’m…” As he hesitates, my fingers flex, tightening their hold on my phone. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”

  “Me, too.”

  As I end the phone call, I fall back on my bed. My body is buzzing, excited and anxious about getting my first tattoo sooner than I’d planned, but that’s not the only reason.

  Kristian’s voice so close to my ear…gosh, that guy could sell phone sex, and I’d be a frequent customer. Warmth rushes through my body, and I don’t think I’m going to be able to ignore the low throbbing between my legs. Nor do I really want to.

  Ugh.

  I rub my face, my cheeks flaming, and wet my lips as I open the drawer of my nightstand. My hand sneaks inside, and I sigh softly when I feel the rubbery texture of the bullet.

  Looks like it will be getting another workout tonight.

  “I’m not sure I can
do this,” I whisper as nausea sets in.

  We’re parked in my Beetle outside the tattoo shop, and my body is locked in place.

  I’m frozen.

  Completely scared out of my mind.

  I was fine on the drive here, enjoying our quiet conversation, but now, I feel as if I have to throw up.

  “Laura? Come on, look at me, please.”

  I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. But as if they have a mind of their own, my eyes flit across Kristian’s face. I swallow the lump in my throat at the concern staring back at me. He’s clean shaven for once, his hair still damp from his shower, and if I was anybody else, I’d try to distract myself by kissing him senseless now.

  But I’m not. I’m old. Ugly. Scarred.

  Pathetic.

  He makes my mouth water, and the longer I sit here, staring at him, the worse it gets. The urge to give in to what I want grows stronger by the day. It’s absurd—I’m acting like a twenty-year-old instead of the mature, sensible, thirty-three-year-old woman that I am.

  “If you’re scared, I won’t put any pressure on you.” His words make my eyes flit back to him. There’s nothing but sincerity in his gaze, and I feel as if I’m melting. “I never want you to think you can’t back down or change your mind when you’re with me, okay?” he continues.

  I nod slowly. Somehow, it feels like he’s not talking about the tattoo.

  “But come inside, let me get everything set up, and if you still feel the same way, we’ll cancel and I’ll take you home.”

  I take a few lungfuls of air, trying to settle the adrenaline in my body, and then nod again as I open the door and get out. I try to ignore the sounds of the city—even so early in the morning, it’s busy—and focus on Kristian as I wait for him to open the door to the shop.

  He takes a step back and waves his hand for me to go first. The gentlemanly gesture makes me forget the nerves for a moment, and I smile up at him.

  “Ladies first,” he murmurs as he winks at me.

  I walk up the steps and breathe deeply as we go inside, taking comfort in Kristian’s presence, for once. I’m on his turf now, and maybe that’s why I’m simultaneously scared and excited. He’s the expert here—not me. And…it’s the first time we’ve been alone since that night at Oran Mor.