“No Asher? You two came separately?”
Clara accepted a glass of soda from Violet. ”Work!” The word popped out of Clara’s mouth. “I spent the morning helping Morty North and Miss Maggie with a project at the shelter, then I had a few patients to see.” Now was the best time to lay groundwork for her early departure story. “Stewart Curtis brought Dodger in the other day. Poor thing.”
“Which one?” Violet’s eyebrows knit together at the mention of the pair. Everyone in town knew how much Dodger meant to Stewart.
“Both of them, I suppose. Dodger will be fine, thankfully. Just some stitches and some rest. He should be heading home soon,” she partially fibbed.
“I bet Stewart is waiting impatiently for the release,” Ramon offered, stirring the contents of the pot.
“He called earlier,” Clara continued weaving her escape story. “I suggested maybe tonight, after we’re done here. I’d prefer Dodger be home as well, it’ll help him heal faster. So many animals experience high levels of stress in unfamiliar territory.”
“Kind of like some people I know,” Violet pointed out. She looked about ready to say something else when there was a knock at the door. A second later Asher entered the house with a bellowing hello and Violet went off to greet her older brother.
Clara settled on one of the chairs surrounding a small dining table, the sort meant for quick meals. They would be feasting in the formal dining room; which Clara saw was set up nicely. And somehow she was going to have to pretend that everything was okay with her and Asher. How exactly she planned to pull that off she had yet to figure out. Perhaps the best thing to do is just go with the flow. She sipped her soda, hearing the timber of Asher’s voice in the other room. He sounded happy, jovial, like he wasn’t about to shatter her entire world with the news that he wanted to end things. Jumping to conclusions much? Geez, take a deep breath, okay? Just breathe.
“Is everything all right, Clara?” Ramon addressed her quietly.
She blinked, plopping back into the moment. She managed a weak smile, tapping a finger against her temple. “Thinking about work. Sorry.”
“Understandable.” He may have said it, but the look in his eyes betrayed his true feelings; he wasn’t buying it.
“There’s my wildflower,” Asher said as he swept into the kitchen.
Clara’s heart skipped a beat. Why did he have to look so dashingly handsome? From the cut of his jeans to the stubble lining his chin…Clara wanted to snuggle up to him, knowing he would smell of hay and horse, leather and soap, and feel his muscles. And hear the rhythmic beat of his heart as rested her head on his chest. Tears burned the backs of her eyes, forcing her to blink furiously to keep them at bay. Stronger than she originally imagined herself to be, Clara stood, accepting a hug from Asher. When he leaned in to give her a kiss she turned her cheek at the last possible second, his lips landing at the corner of her mouth. As they parted Clara noted the unasked question in his beautiful eyes. It tugged at her heartstrings and a nervous flutter stirred in her stomach.
How easily he could suck her right back in. She loved him, heart and soul, which made the pain even worse. A little under two months and she let herself become completely invested in him, threw all caution and fear to the wind, said to heck with it, and foolishly let herself believe things would play out differently this time.
What happened to taking a deep breath? So you got your heart smashed into tiny pieces by another guy, where is the benefit of the doubt for Asher? Why are you so ready to believe he wants to leave you? Remember, he was cheerful when you talked and here he is now. Do you see the lines of concern etched in his brow? Let him say his piece. Forget what Stewart said. Stop listening to gossip.
“How was your day?” Asher asked her, slipping his hand down her arm until their fingers met. His palm was warm against hers, a tingle working its way down her spine and settling in her stomach. And to think, earlier she thought about giving Asher the gift of herself for Valentine’s Day.
Get a grip, girl. How can I still love him, want him, while being in such turmoil? Whoever said love wasn’t easy sure knew what they were talking about.
“Dinner is served,” announced Ramon, saving Clara from falling apart right then and there. She was on the verge of going crazy, wanting to blurt out the hurt twisting her insides into a knot.
The group headed into the dining room, each of them carrying something to the table. Ramon sat at the head, of course, with Violet to his right. Clara sat across from her, pleased she didn’t have to look at Asher while she enjoyed the meal. He sat at her side, his presence impossible to ignore. Being near him was enough to stoke the fires of desire that lay unsatisfied for so long. Was her body in the process of betraying her, bypassing all logic and zoning in purely on craving? Clara squirmed as she imagined Asher trailing fingers along her bare thigh, leaving a trail of kisses down her stomach to places of passion.
She snatched up her fork, more confused than ever. Why was she thinking about intimate matters when seconds ago she wanted to cry and refused a kiss? Had she lost her mind?
“This looks absolutely delicious,” Clara remarked, stabbing a piece of beef and popping it in her mouth. She moaned, rolling her eyes, waiting until she swallowed to add, “And somehow tastes even better. You’ve certainly outdone yourself, Ramon. Thank you.”
“My thanks to you, for what is a chef without people to feed?” Ramon said, a twinkle in his eye. Then he turned his attention to Asher. “I hear Bowie is looking for a new direction to take his ranch in, is this true?”
Violet shook her head, a forkful of sautéed vegetables hovering above her plate. “That man’s life is the rodeo.”
The conversation played around Bowie and what he might do next, a topic that allowed for Clara to remain relatively quiet and eat a decent portion of her dinner. Apparently, her appetite was fine, or maybe it was nervous eating. Either way, her taste buds were singing Ramon’s talents. At this rate her cupcakes were going to pale in comparison. Eventually talk turned to matters of business, every one winding up sharing a story or two about how things were going on the job. Violet’s class learned there were going to be part of the spring pageant and excitement ensued. The restaurant Ramon worked for got a rave review in a big-time food magazine. Asher admitted he was thinking of returning to the rodeo circuit to show off the abilities of some young stock; which was news to Clara. And Clara gushed, temporarily able to forget her own hurt, about the work she had done with Morty and Miss Maggie.
It was turning into a lovely night, quite surprisingly.
Almost enough for Clara to convince herself that everything was okay.
Ramon and Violet cleared the table, refusing all offers of help, leaving Clara alone with Asher. She swallowed, kneading her hands together in her lap, eyes cast down at the table.
He placed a hand on her knee, leaning over to whisper in her ear. “We have to talk before this night is over. There’s something I want you to hear.”
“Okay,” she managed to get out, all the doubt washing back in like a flash flood.
“Here we go!” Violet swept back into the room with a platter covered in Clara’s cupcakes.
“Those look decadent,” Asher said, plucking one from the many as his sister settled the dish down.
Quick as lightning she smacked his hand. “Put that down.” Ramon came into the room, making sure everyone had a glass of milk. He joined Violet, his arm looped around her waist. “We have an announcement to make.”
Clara held her glass.
“Well, out with it. I can’t stand the temptation of chocolate. You’re torturing me.”
Violet looked at Ramon, beaming. ”I’m pregnant!”
For a moment there was utter silence, then Asher popped out of his chair fast enough to send it toppling and he also knocked over his milk. Clara grabbed napkins to clean up the mess as he rushed over to congratulate his sister, plucking her from the floor like a delicate flower and twirling her around the room.
>
There was laughter and a squeal. Clara wandered over to participate in the festivities, happy to hear Violet’s family was on the verge of expanding.
“Congrats,” Asher said, clapping Ramon on the shoulder.
“This is wonderful news,” Clara said, hugging Violet.
“Thank you.” Her smile was brilliant, lighting up her entire face. She held Clara’s hands. ”Who knows, maybe you’ll be knocked up the end of the year and our tots can grow up together.”
A stab in her chest. “Maybe.”
Clara carefully extracted herself from the little group, sinking down in her seat and treating herself to a sweet. She got lost in the fudgy indulgence, discarding the candy heart that and its message of love. The threesome didn’t seem to notice her lack of enthusiasm. No, she was ecstatic for Violet and Ramon, but perhaps a touch jealous. Violet’s comment hadn’t helped matters any either.
Then Clara realized this was the moment she’d been waiting for when the evening started. Time to escape and return home to the comforting familiarity of Tatters. She extracted her phone from her purse and planned on pretending to read a text message, finding she had received one from Miss Maggie. Her friend declared the dating profile pictures done and suggested they all get meet up tomorrow to work on the dating bios. Clara shot her a quick affirmation, not entirely sure she would even want to leave the house tomorrow.
Work. There would always be the little matter of work.
She stood, clearing her throat. “I really am sorry to cut the evening short, but Mr. Curtis is inquiring about Dodger.” A straight up lie. “If it’s alright with you guys I want to help ease his worries.”
“Perfectly understood,” Violet said.
“I think I’ll leave the happy couple to bask in their bliss as well,” Asher said.
Violet kissed his cheek and gave him a wink Clara figured she wasn’t meant to see. Another flurry of activity followed as they were given cupcakes and hugs were exchanged along with well wishes and more congratulations. Clara hoped to break free, slipping out when it felt most appropriate, having promised to make some treats for Violet’s class for the after-party she wanted to throw. Of course, that wouldn’t take place until the spring and by then…
Out in the bitter chill of the night Clara headed for her car, purpose in her steps.
“Clara,” Asher called after her, “hold up.”
She heard the think of his boots behind her. “I have to meet Stewart.”
Asher took her gently by the arm, effectively stopping her and spinning her around at the same time. “That’s bull. I saw Stewart on the way here and Dodger was in the front seat. So come on, tell me what’s been bothering you all evening.”
“Nothing,” she attempted another lie. “I have a lot on my mind and it’s been a long day. I’m tired.”
Neither of them spoke. Asher let her go and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Silence descended between them. Clara’s eyes met Asher’s and she felt herself tumbling, falling the way she did every time, getting lost in their loving warmth. A single tear sprang free. Asher frowned, his brows knitting together. Gently, with his thumb he brushed away the stray tear.
“Clara.”
“Let me save you the trouble.” Her lower lip trembled, the front she maintained all evening finally starting to crumble. ”You’re free to do as you like, Asher Barlow. You were never mine.”
Asher flinched, looking like a man who just took a punch to the gut. “You heard Shasta is back in town. Clara, let me explain.”
She shook her head. Deep down she realized she was being irrational. Did she care? “There’s nothing to explain. I told you, you’re free to do as you please.”
“Are you breaking up with me?”
“It’s what you want.”
Asher’s eyebrows shot up. “What I want? Who have you the idea I wanted Shasta? Yes, I admit I made a mistake in not telling you when she first showed up, and for that I’m kicking myself, trust me. Hell, Bowie warned me.”
“You should learn to listen to your friend.”
“Noted. Clara…” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I know words don’t fix things, but I am sorry from the depths of my heart. Now you’re hurting and it’s my fault.”
“Not completely,” she mumbled, another tear making a break for it.
This time when Asher frowned he looked ready to beat someone. “What do you mean? Had someone been hassling you?”
If Clara wanted him to understand her position, why his actions saddened her so, she was going to have to come clean. Sucking in her bottom lip she sank back against her SUV, crossing her arms over her chest. The past she’d been running from now stared back at her, all the memories bubbling up. There was no holding back the tears now. Her shoulders shook as she cried openly. Asher crossed to her and drew her into his embrace. The scents of the barn that seemed to cling to him brought a touch of comfort; which served to make her crying worse. Their relationship may have been in the early stages, but she loved him, true and deep, and the idea of him waking away…
“It’s okay,” Asher said soothingly, running his hand up and down her back. “I’m right here and not going anywhere.”
She held onto him, letting it all out, not caring in the least of Violet saw them and rushed outside to see about all the fuss. In a matter of minutes Clara managed to regain some composure, sniffling, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Regretfully she untangled herself from Asher. The bitter cold of the winter night swept between them. Clara shivered.
“How about we move this into your car, get a little warmth? I might be losing feeling in my toes,” he joked lightly.
Still somewhat choked up Clara could only nod. Digging her keys out of her pocket, Clara hit the unlock button. In quick order they were both sitting inside, the heater going strong. Asher turned down the radio.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on? I have to admit, I’m a bit confused. I screwed up, yes, but I never realized it would cause you this much grief.”
There was a small package of tissues in the glovebox. Clara retrieved them, tugging one free. Instantly she balled it up in her hand. “The last time I fell in love…His name was, is, Gordon.”
“Tell me about Gordon.”
“What’s to tell?” She snorted. “They say love is blind and it’s true because as far as I was concerned, Gordon walked on water. Things started out great, the relationship was everything I wanted. The perfect fit to my little-girl dreams.”
Clara started to choke up again. As a teenager and into her early twenties she dated a lot of frogs. Some of them were fun, a few turned out to be absolute mistakes, and just as she was about to throw in the towel, Gordon stepped out of the shadows. Perhaps she should have seen the writing on the wall earlier, everything about him seemed too good to be true. Still, Clara fell for him hard—hook, line and sinker. And when he proposed? She’d never felt more alive.
“Huh,” Asher said softly, quietly. He reached out and took her hand in his, drawing circles with his thumb.
When he remained quiet, Clara continued recounting her biggest mistake, finding that although digging up the past brought forth a heavy dose of heartache, it was also therapeutic, just throwing it all out in the open. So she got down to the nitty-gritty, the worst part of the whole ordeal. Gordon leaving her. Three months away from the wedding date he did the most underhanded, despicable thing he possibly could. Clara’s voice trembled as she spoke, telling Asher how she returned home one afternoon close to Christmas to find Gordon had moved out of their apartment.
Just like that it was all over.
He’d taken his things, packed them up, and left with a short note stuck to the fridge. He claimed his love for her had died a while ago and that he proposed simply because it felt like the proper thing to do. In reality, however, he loved another. Clara had been devastated, even more so when she discovered Gordon had left her for an ex-girlfriend.
Her story done, Clara sank into her seat, the world sh
immering through tear-filled eyes.
Asher broke his silence. “Pardon me for saying this, but what an ass.” “I must also, in a messed-up way, be thankful for what he did.”
She shot a glare in his direction, anger sparked by his words.
Asher put a finger softly to her lips, gazing into her eyes. “Think about it, Clara, that fool threw away the best woman I’ve had the privilege of calling my friend. You’re smart with a big heart, always willing to help, and you’re beautiful. And I’m sitting here with you because he screwed up; which makes me the luckiest guy on earth.”
“But,” was all she managed to get out.
“I got over Shasta a long time ago. And I’m sorry, from the very bottom of my heart, to have made you think otherwise.” He went on to explain how he arrived home to find her waiting. The life of fame and fortune Shasta sought eluded her, so she returned home, needing a place to board her horse as well as a bed to crash in. “I told her Dash may stay at the ranch for a short period, but she had to find another place for herself. I helped her move her things to a friend’s house.”
“And that’s all?”
“Scout’s honor.”
“You were a scout?”
Asher chuckled. “Actually, never had time, but I give you my word.”
Clara chewed her bottom lip. Up until now had Asher given her a reason to doubt him or his honesty? In the time she’d spent with him Clara learned quickly that he spoke bluntly and truthfully, seeing little point in lying. And there was Miss Maggie to consider in the whole affair. Clara refused to believe her friend would misdirect her when it came to Asher.
“How about we head over to my place, talk a little more?” suggested Asher.
Instantly Clara shook her head. “I’m exhausted. It has been a long day, mentally and emotionally.”
“Okay.” He leaned across the center console and left a kiss on her cheek. “I’m going to bring you lunch tomorrow.”
“If you want.”
“And I’m going to follow you to make sure you get home safely.”
Chapter 11
Painted Petals Page 7
