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Predestined: Nathan McCoy's Story (Hell Yeah! Book 37)

Page 15

by Sable Hunter


  “Sometimes.” Nathan held up a finger for service. “Two coke floats please.”

  “Hey, I can choose for myself.”

  “All right,” he conceded. “What would you like?”

  She made a face. “A coke float sounds pretty good.”

  He looked pleased as he confirmed the order. “I know you so well.”

  “You think you do, but I’m not sure why.”

  “Someday…” He gave her a sexy grin. “I might tell you. If you ask nicely.”

  “We’ll see.” She was quiet a second as she regulated her breathing. All of this excitement could send her in a tailspin if she wasn’t careful. “So, how’s the work going at the ranch?”

  “Very good. Your brothers are very receptive to my vision. I hope to start developing some of the pastures in what they call the high country.”

  “Oh, really? How would that work?”

  Hearing a real interest in her voice, he elaborated. “In the lower altitudes, warmth and humidity tends to make the grasses rot in the autumn and winter. If they aren’t cured and cut into hay before this happens, we lose the grass. On the arid plateaus, that doesn’t happen. As I understand from reading the records, there are many days where the snow is fine and blows into drifts so that four-fifths of the ground is available to graze on.”

  “Wow. I can see why they hired you.”

  “Thanks.” Again, he marveled at the fact he couldn’t hear her thoughts. He had to take what she said at face value – something that made him feel surprisingly vulnerable. “Tell me about your art.”

  “Oh, I don’t like to talk about myself.”

  “Please.”

  His sincere tone touched Clare. “All right. I paint landscapes. With our beautiful scenery I never run out of inspiration. I also weave rugs and wall hangings. I make pottery. And I write a little here and there.”

  “Mercy. I’ve seen the landscapes hanging in the ranch house. They’re amazing. I sure would love to see more.”

  She pointed to the entrance. “There’s a couple of shops nearby that carry a few pieces.”

  “Oh? Which ones?”

  She told him the names of the stores.

  “Well, I’ll just have to check them out before I head out of town.” He took a sip of his float. “I need a new piece of art.”

  Seeing his sincerity, she shifted in her seat. “Don’t buy anything. They charge an arm and a leg. If you want one of my pieces, I’ll give it to you.”

  Now, that sounded like his Romy. “Well, thanks. I might take you up on that.” He still intended to check out those stores. Nathan was hungry to learn everything about her he could. He’d love to see anything she made with her own hands.

  For a little while they sat silently enjoying their ice cream treat until Clare cleared her throat. “How’s your family?”

  “They’re great.” He couldn’t stop staring at her. To be sitting across from Romy seemed like a miracle. She was so gorgeous. Ultra-feminine. He couldn’t stop remembering how it felt to make love to her in his dream. Feeling the heat rise in his face, he hunted something to say to her other than how much he wanted her. “You know Tamara, right?”

  “Oh, yes. Tam is a marvel.” Clare fingered the paper napkin that came wrapped around her drink. She recalled the day a car hit her bicycle and pushed her into the side of a mountain causing a serious head injury. “When she got hurt, I was devastated. We came upon the accident right after it happened.”

  “Oh, man. How awful.” Nathan shook his head. “She’s lucky to be alive.”

  “She is,” Clare agreed. “I’m just so grateful she’s better.” Tamara was a good friend.

  “Yea, we are too.” He rubbed his thumb on his now empty glass. “She had a tough time. I can relate to a degree. I was riding my bicycle over the Guadalupe River bridge when a man pulling a tractor on a trailer hit me and knocked me and my bike into the water.”

  The thought made Clare shiver. She knew the story, but she didn’t want him to know she knew. “Were you hurt?”

  “I drowned. I died.”

  Even though she already knew this, his matter-of-fact statement sent chills over her body. Almost, she shared her own experience – but she didn’t. “But you survived.”

  “Yea, Jessie gave me CPR. She’s my sister-in-law now, Jacob’s wife.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t die,” she whispered. Truer words had never been spoken.

  “Yea, me too,” Nathan said. “Although, I’m not afraid of it now. Dying.”

  “No, I’m not either,” Clare added before she thought.

  Nathan smiled. “You’re young and beautiful. Why should death ever cross your mind?”

  Clare smiled sadly. “My mother died from heart disease when I was a baby. My father was killed in a plane crash a few years ago.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” He reached over and covered her hand with his. “You’re cold.”

  She jerked her hand away. “Poor circulation.”

  “My parents died in a flash flood when I was a kid. My brothers raised me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Clare didn’t tell him she already knew these things about his life. And more. She wouldn’t tell him that in addition to subscribing to his hometown newspaper, she’d also purchased his Junior and Senior annuals online from his high school. She certainly wouldn’t say how she poured over every mention of him, building a scrapbook of his accomplishments, his school activities, and news of his family. She knew her behavior was odd – maybe even a little stalkerish. But she never expected to meet him face to face and she never intended for him to know about her harmless obsession.

  No, obsession wasn’t the right word. This wasn’t like a celebrity crush. Clare loved Nathan McCoy. With all her heart. Yes, she knew how crazy that would sound to most people. How can you love someone you don’t know? Well, honestly, she’d struggled with that idea herself. So far, she hadn’t come up with an answer. No matter – not understanding something didn’t change the reality of its truth.

  Lifting her head to meet his gaze, she tried to keep the mask she wore intact. “We’ve both experienced more than our share of trouble.”

  “So true.”

  As he swallowed and opened his mouth to say more, Clare could feel her self-control slipping. She might be able to keep a straight face but keeping the love from shining in her eyes was another matter. “I need to go.”

  “Oh.” Nathan checked his phone. “I do too.” He smiled. “I could sit and look at you all day. Spending time with you is the sweetest thing I’ve done in a long time.”

  “Nathan…” Now she knew what Roberta Flack meant when she sang about someone killing her softly with his words. Pushing him away might kill her before her dang defective heart finished the job. “Please.”

  He sighed loudly. “Okay.” Rising he held out his hand to help her from her chair. “Do you think we can be friends?”

  What could she say? “Sure, that would be nice.” She let him help her to her feet.

  “Excellent!”

  This seemed to please him no end. “Well, have a good day,” she told him. “And be careful driving home.”

  Nathan felt the ache in his chest expand. When she made those caring comments, he couldn’t help but recognize his Romy. “I will. In fact, if you’ll tell me where you’re parked, we can convoy home. The roads through those mountain passes can be tricky at night.”

  “I’m used to driving these roads, remember.” Actually, she couldn’t fault his logic. “But thank you, I think that’s a good idea.” As they moved away from the table toward the door, she slipped her bag over her shoulder. “I’m parked pretty close, the pay lot less than a block away.”

  “Me too!” He brightened. “May I?” He offered his arm and beamed when she took it. “Could we stop at one of those shops? Do you have time?”

  “Yes, I guess. If you do.” This wasn’t good. Clare found herself having trouble telling him no.

  “Great. Point the way.”
/>
  She did and soon they were browsing in the upscale art shop. The place catered to tourists with money, so the pieces weren’t cheap. There was everything from jewelry to oil paintings. “I have a little section over there devoted to my work.”

  “Lead the way.” He kept a protective hand on her back as they walked.

  As they moved through the store, Clare spoke to the woman who ran the establishment. “Hello. My friend is curious about my pieces.”

  “Well, we have a few left. I’m always anxious to get more.” She greeted Nathan with a nod. “Ms. Connelly is very talented. We’re honored to share her work with the world.”

  “Oh, that’s an exaggeration.” Such compliments made Clare uncomfortable.

  “Let me be the judge of that.” Nathan looked ahead, anxious to see for himself.

  “Okay, here they are.” She waved off-handedly toward the shelves filled with everything from small oils to wall hangings to pieces of jewelry made from stones Clare had tumbled and painted with small scenes or symbols.

  “Oh, my…” Nathan was mesmerized. The landscapes were wonderful, but he was especially drawn to the tapestries. “How did you do this?” They were magical, almost alive in their depictions of wildlife and flowers. “This wolf is exquisite. Reminds me of Lobo.”

  “Who’s Lobo?”

  “My coywolf. He’s just a pup. His mother was killed. I found him on the last camping trip I took with my brothers, just before my birthday.” He touched the piece reverently. “I’ve got to have this. You’re amazing.” He turned to find her blushing. “Don’t you know that?”

  She looked around to see where the lady who ran the shop was standing. “Thanks, but don’t pay that price. I have one at home almost just like it, I’ll give it to you.”

  Her offer touched his heart. “Thanks, but no.” He picked up the piece. “An artist’s work should be appreciated, and this is my way of showing you how much I admire your talent.”

  Clare wanted to protest more, but she could see it wouldn’t do any good. While he paid out, she found a spot to sit and rest. Once he was through, he came to collect her.

  Seeing she appeared to be pale, he asked with concern, “Are you okay?”

  “Oh, yea. I’m perfect.” She rose to her feet, not wanting him to have an inkling about her condition. She probably needed to remind her brothers and Ms. Robbins to not say anything either. She didn’t think she could bear for Nathan to pity her.

  “Yes, you are.” He carried the tapestry under his arm as he escorted her from the store.

  As they strolled down the street, Clare quietly memorized each moment. Sharing this time with Nathan was an unexpected gift. Yes, she’d struggled to avoid this very thing – but now that it was happening, she could appreciate how precious these memories would be. “There’s my car,” she pointed to a black BMW.

  “Okay.” Nathan veered in the direction she indicated. “I’m parked in the back. You pull up to the exit and I’ll come around to meet you.”

  His consideration impressed Clare. “You’re very kind.”

  Opening her door, he helped her inside the vehicle. “Ro…Clare, I need to ask you something?”

  Again, she caught him almost calling her Romy. How could this be? “Yes?”

  “Would you consider going out with me?”

  Clare felt a sharp pain cut through her chest. “Nathan, you honor me. But no.”

  Her answer didn’t surprise Nathan, but it still hurt. In his estimation, they’d made progress today. “Do you mind if I keep asking?” What would he do if she said no?

  Clare felt her resolve slip even further. “Could I stop you?”

  Nathan grinned. “I’m not sure, I’m pretty determined. I’ve got my heart set on this, you see.”

  She couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Well, I won’t try to stop you, but I can’t promise you my answer will ever change.”

  “That’s all right.” He leaned down and brushed a lock of golden hair away from her beautiful violet eyes. “Some things are worth waiting for. Fighting for. And I think you’re one of them.”

  “Oh, it’s no use.” Clare laid down her brush. “I can’t concentrate.” She stared at the unfinished scene on her canvas. “I can’t stop thinking about Nathan.” Rising, she slipped off the coat she wore while she painted.

  Retreating to the kitchen, she put a kettle on to boil for some tea. “Are you hungry, Seymour?” she asked the raccoon at her feet.

  Chatter. Chatter. Chatter.

  “I hear you. How about some grapes?” She fetched a bunch of green seedless grapes from the fridge and pulled them off to put into the little bandit’s bowl. “There you go. Enjoy.” When she raised up, Clare laughed to see a deer staring at her through the window. “Bentley! You’re here.” She ran to the door and opened it wide. “Come in this house. I’ll make you a waffle.”

  No, she wasn’t insane. Well, maybe a little. This was her house and she’d do what she pleased. As the doe made her way into the small kitchen, smelling of one thing and another, Clare put a frozen waffle in the toaster. “I know these are your favorite treat.”

  Once the waffle popped up, she hand-fed her friend. “It’s good to see you. How’s the family?” She smiled at the ridiculousness of her one-sided conversation. Oh well, there was nobody to hear or judge what she might say.

  Today, that thought struck her as especially sad.

  To offset the wistful longing she felt, Clare went to her desk and picked up her notepad. Beginning a new chapter, she wrote down the details of another day in the imagined world where she and Nathan lived happily ever after. Within these pages, she lived a dream she’d never get to experience in real life. Penning her fantasies, she created days filled with everyday joys and nights filled with unbelievable passion. Then…when she was lonely, she read them and let herself step into the pages to experience a happiness she would never know.

  Tap. Tap.

  Clare slammed her notebook down and hastily piled a couple of books on top of that. When she whirled around, she fully expected to find Nathan at her door. When she saw it was her brother, Storm, an unexpected sense of disappointment washed over her. “Oh, hey.”

  “I see you have the open-door policy going on.”

  “Yea, Bentley was here a second ago.” She hadn’t noticed the deer had wandered off. “I guess she had other business.”

  Storm picked up the raccoon to scratch under his chin. “What are you working on?” He gestured toward the pile of books sheltering the precious notepad.

  “Nothing. A story.”

  Storm looked at her funny. “You’re hiding something.”

  She blew out a breath of frustrated air. “Yea, I need to work on my deceitfulness.”

  He laughed at his sister’s dry humor. “Must be some story, huh? Are you writing erotic romance these days?”

  Clare blushed furiously. “So, what if I am? I hear it sells well. Ask Avery McCoy.”

  “Whatever.” He shrugged. “If I can paint nudes, you can write porn.”

  “It isn’t porn.” The scenes she wrote about herself, and Nathan were beautiful psalms of love.

  “When can I read it?”

  “How about…never?”

  “But I read everything you publish.”

  “Yea, coming of age stories about mountain climbing and vision quests. Not this. This is private.” Hush, Clare. Just hush.

  “All right.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t come here for that anyway.”

  “Oh? Is something wrong?”

  “How did your doctor visit go?”

  She wiggled in her seat. “Oh, same old, same old.”

  “What were your stats? Your ejection fraction?”

  “About the same. Forties.”

  Storm looked worried. “Are you taking care of yourself? Low sodium. No alcohol.”

  “Oh, yea. I get drunk every Friday night.” Clare grimaced at him. “You know I don’t drink – at all. Ever.”

/>   “I didn’t think so. I just worry.”

  “I know you do.” Really, she owed so much to her family. After her near-miss with the afterlife, death wasn’t something she worried about for herself. Been there done that. No big deal. She didn’t fear dying. Living was pretty hard, however. Much to her brothers’ dismay, she refused to just sit and wait for another visit from the grim reaper. Instead, she chose to pull up stakes and move across the country. Clare wanted to spend whatever time she was granted on this earth somewhere besides the city. She wanted to express herself, create beautiful things that would endure longer than her frail body.

  Despite Clare’s protests, her brothers came with her. Moving to this part of the world was far less of a burden on Storm than it was on Mad. Colorado was a haven for artists, far less of one for a Wall Street high roller.

  “I know you both worry, and I appreciate it so much.” She rose to give Storm a hug. “You don’t need to, however. I’m puttering along just fine. So…to what do I owe this impromptu visit?”

  “Can’t I just pop in?”

  “Yea, you can. If I knew you were coming, I would’ve baked a cake.”

  He grinned and held up a finger. “You and your old songs.” He thought a minute. That one was recorded in 1950 by…”

  “Eileen Barton.”

  He laughed. “I didn’t know that.” Storm studied her face. “Are you sure you’re okay? How are you and Nathan getting along?”

  “What?” She shifted in her seat again. “I ran into him in town. He bought me ice cream. No big deal.”

  “Sounds like an interesting first date.”

  “It wasn’t a date,” she emphasized the words. “You’re as bad as Ms. Robbins.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, no. Don’t say that. Anyway…what I came to tell you is that Mad and I are going out of town for a few days. We need to do some promotion work for FEVER and attend a few events.”

  “No problem. I’ll be good while you’re gone.”

  He chewed on his lower lip before he spoke. “I’m asking Nathan to come check on you.”

  “No! I don’t need anyone to check on me.”

  “Yes, you do. There’s a storm in the forecast. And besides…”

 

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