“The fire is out but the firefighters are still dealing with the aftermath.”
“And Thayer and Abby, are they okay?”
“They’re fine. They’re with me now. Abby’s pretty upset but Thayer is doing okay so far.”
“Thatcher, thank God you’re there. I’m not sure I can get back to Lone Star. My livelihood is riding on this offer; we’ve been in negotiations for days as is. What are they going to do? Where will they be?”
“Abby? He wants to know where you’ll be?”
“Probably at my mama’s house.”
I relayed the information to Adrian.
“She can’t stay there, she forgot her mom’s having half her house renovated. There’s no room for both of them to stay there.”
“They can stay at my house.” I said the words before I realized what that would entail. If the shocked expression on Abigail’s face meant anything, she couldn’t believe what I’d said either. She was already shaking her head and I placed my index finger to her lips to silence any argument from her.
“That would be wonderful. With everything else going on…Look, Thatcher, I’m sure Abby told you already. I tried, I did. I’m sorry.”
“Actually, Abby hasn’t told me anything.” I cocked my head to the left, raising my eyebrow to her, silently asking her, what the hell didn’t she tell me that she was clearly supposed to.
“She hasn’t? Geez, put her on the phone.”
“He wants to talk to you.”
She shook her head, “Not now. No. Tell him not right now.”
I held the phone up, raising my hands. Why was I in the middle of this? When she stomped away, clearly unperturbed, I put the phone to my ear. “Look Adrian, she doesn’t want to talk right now-”
“Put her on!”
Okay then. Raising my eye brows, I handed Abby my phone mouthing to her that she’d been summoned. She gave me a dirty look, which I found rather adorable but because of the circumstances, I quickly put the thought out of my head.
“Adrian. The house…” She turned her back on me, effectively reminding me that I didn’t belong in her life. She had a husband to care for her, a family. She didn’t need me hovering around the periphery. Even if I wanted to.
With nothing else to do, I sat down on the curb next to Thayer.
“Is Spider-Man doing okay?”
“Yeah. He’s a little scared.”
“How do you know he’s scared?” The turtle wasn’t crawling around in his bin. Just watching us out of the corner of his eye, probably wondering which one of us was going to pick him up.
“He just lost his home. Wouldn’t you be scared?”
I bent my head and looked into Thayer’s face. Really looked. He wasn’t crying but I could remember what it felt like for me when I was ten. I didn’t know if a four-year-old felt differently. It was easy to overlook a child in a situation like this. I would know. Forgetting about the turtle, I asked, “Are you okay, little guy?”
“I’m okay. But all my toys are still in there. They’re not okay.”
“You’re right. They aren’t doing good.”
“Will I get them back?”
His innocence killed me. “No, Thayer. You won’t be able to get them back. Maybe we could find some other ones for you. Tell me what kind of toys you had in there.”
“Spider-Man things. My blanket. I had this Spider-Man toy that flies into the air.”
“Would it make you feel better if we stopped at the store on our way home,” home? “And picked up a few toys? Then while y’all stay at my place you have something to make you feel a little better?”
“How long am I staying at your house?”
Forever?
“I don’t know. We’ll have to talk to your mama about that.”
“A fire is scary.”
“It is, son. It definitely is.”
“Have you been inside a fire before?”
I chuckled, “No. I’ve never been inside a fire. But when I was ten, my house burnt down, too.”
He looked up at me in wonder. “It did?”
“It did. I lost a lot of stuff.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. But you know what?”
“What?”
“The most important thing is that no one was in there. That nobody got hurt. Even little Spider-Man here made it out okay and that’s what’s most important.”
He leaned into my side and rested his arm on my knee. Both of us sat staring at the turtle.
“Are you going to pick him up? He likes being held. My mama holds him a lot.”
“Ah, how about you hold him?”
“How about-” I turned my head to find Abigail standing behind us, watching us intently. She gripped my phone to her chest. An ash from the fire floated in front of her face landing on her white Mickey Mouse t-shirt. Amidst her pain, I could she something else in her green eyes. Regret. Hurt. Shock.
“What’s going on, Abigail?”
There was something. Something she wasn’t willing to tell me. I knew because I could look in the mirror and see that same look on my face, same desperation in my eyes. I couldn’t imagine what the something was but the sense of urgency in Adrian’s voice and then the annoyance and demand to put her on the phone – something was going on.
“Mommy, guess what? Thatcher had a fire, too.”
She blinked out of her stupor and a small smile graced her mouth. “What, baby?”
“Thatcher was in a fire, too. He lost all of his toys.”
“I didn’t know that.” Her eyes darted to mine and then back to Thayer.
“Yes. And we’re going to stop at the store to get some toys, right, Thatcher?”
There was that look of independence again and I was confident she was going to tell me to go to hell and further insist that the two of them weren’t coming to my house, let alone spend the night. She opened her mouth to speak – to be defiant was my guess. But what came out, surprised me.
“Oh yes, Baby. We’ll stop and get a few toys on our way to Thatcher’s house. You’re going to need a new Spider-Man blanket, aren’t you?” He went into her arms and a pang of sadness weaved its way tight around my heart much like a boa constrictor did its prey. I could hear his muffled cries and not wanting to watch the firefighters work and feeling like the third-wheel upon their moment, I picked up the bin Thayer’s turtle was in and took it to my truck.
They could catch up when they were ready.
Chapter Four
Abigail
Thatcher and I had forgotten it was Sunday what with the fire and all. We weren’t able to stop at the store after all. I kept telling myself I needed to be strong for Thayer but when I peeked out the corner of my eye at Thatcher while he drove us home, I wanted to cuddle up in his arms and cry. All our things, my things, up in smoke. Just like my divorce. It wasn’t as if I owned anything fancy or expensive. Well, no that’s not right. Adrian had bought me a fancy purse he’d gotten for me one year on one of his business trips awhile back but I’d never used it because it was too…too stiff. So, there was that. But everything else, Thayer’s baby pictures, pictures of us as a family, my books had all been ruined – not expensive but valuable nonetheless. Even all of my cow decorations in my kitchen which I’d never thought I would miss, was ruining me. It was not an udder day in paradise.
“You going to be okay?” Thatcher asked as he pulled his truck into his driveway. His house was about a mile out of Lone Star. Endless trees dotted his front yard and around the back of his house. I knew he owned some land surrounding it but I wasn’t clear how much. Made up of all grey brick and white trim, I’d seen it before but seeing it now, with Thayer buckled in the back seat, it felt a lot like we were seeing if for the first time as a family. I guess we were. I sighed. I had to stop having these silly little thoughts because nothing was ever going to happen with Thatcher and I. He made his bed a long time ago. I couldn’t trust the man with my heart, with my son’s heart, because I didn’t
know what or where the root of his problem with us laid.
“Yeah, I’m going to be okay,” I lied. “Just an udder day in paradise.”
Since we had absolutely nothing with us except for the turtle some firefighter managed to find on the back porch, we gathered up the bin and made our way out of the truck. His house was mostly the same as I remembered. We entered through the garage where a green four-wheeler was parked.
“Is that yours?”
Thatcher cracked that heartbreakingly handsome smile of his as he glanced at my son. “Sure is. You ever been on one before?”
Thayer shook his head and Thatcher glanced at me. “Maybe, if your mom says it’s okay, I can take you for a ride on it.”
“Mama too?”
“If your mama wants.” Once again those trembles quaked through me.
“Yeah!” Thayer started doing a little dance with his arms flying all around his head and I laughed. Gosh, that was Thayer though. Able to make me smile at the worst of times.
“Alright, come on in y’all.”
Just then Thatcher’s phone rang and I realized I didn’t have my phone. Or my wallet, my ID, I’d left everything at the house when Thayer and I walked down the street to the park. My vision started to blur and I blinked back tears.
“Thatcher.”
When Thatcher nudged my arm and mouthed that it was my mother, I instantly felt terrible for not thinking about calling her before when my house was going up in flames. He handed me the phone and I put it to my ear.
“Hi Mama. You heard about the fire?”
“Is everyone okay, Abigail? Why didn’t you call me?”
“I’m sorry. I forgot. Everything happened so fast and then Thatcher showed up and once I spoke to Adrian, we just left and came home with Thatcher. And before I forget, do you think you could take Mr. Hansen a Key Lime Pie tomorrow? He’s having hip surgery today and I promised I would bring one over.”
“Of course, Abby. Any other older folks you’re making friends with – promising food to that I need to look after?”
“No. Just Mr. Hansen. Since I don’t have a car, I didn’t want to have to rely on Thatcher.”
“So he knows about the divorce then?” she asked with a slight smugness to her voice.
I surreptitiously glanced toward Thatcher, worried he might be able to hear Mama’s voice over the phone. When his stormy blue eyes didn’t so much as flicker from having heard her, I tried my best to act normal.
“No. Not yet. Soon though. Adrian wants us to stay here. He reminded me about your renovations.”
“So you and Thayer will be staying with Thatcher indefinitely?”
Indefinitely? My eyes clashed with his, roaming over his straight nose and perfectly trimmed facial hair, his cupid’s bow lips and once my gaze drifted to his tanned neck I forced myself to stop because there was only so much my insides could take before I melted into a puddle.
“For now, Mama. I’ll let you know when things change.”
“Okay, Sweetheart. Just promise me one thing?”
“What’s that?”
“Promise me that you will keep an open mind.”
“Open mind about what?”
“Everything.”
She hung up and I wasn’t sure what she meant by that comment but I couldn’t ignore my inner voice telling me that I knew exactly what she meant and who exactly she was referring to, blue eyes be damned. I handed Thatcher his phone, making sure I didn’t touch him in the process.
“I feel bad I didn’t think to call her.”
“I should’ve thought about it, too. She doing okay?”
“Yeah, she is. Good as can be.”
“Shall we?” he spread his arm out gesturing toward the garage door that led into the house.
Thatcher held the door open for us and as I brushed past him, the hairs on my arms stood tall, sending funny little shivers down my back that didn’t seem to stop until they reached my toes. I didn’t dare glance it him. I could already feel his intent gaze on me and I just couldn’t look, so help me God.
Bypassing the mudroom where a utility sink and washer and dryer were, we went through another door that led us into the kitchen. Unlike my black and white kitchen, well what was my black and white cow-themed kitchen, Thatcher’s kitchen wasn’t themed or even decorated as I looked around. Black appliances worked well with the forest green window coverings he had hung above the window over his sink. His kitchen was much larger than mine with a center island and an entire counter that had three bar stools pulled up to it. All of his cabinet space was to die for.
“Here’s the kitchen and the dining area.”
On the other side of the bar stools sat a small, four-person table and beyond that was his living room and his bedroom that I had never been brave enough to look in. I just knew where it was from having come with Adrian to a party or two Thatcher had invited us over for.
“Obviously, the living room-”
“Whoa. Your T.V. is so big.”
“It’s got to be big.” Thatcher’s intent gaze settled on me. “Big is always better.” Once again I got those darn shivers. His sexy tone made it clear he was…was what? I didn’t know. I was reading too much in to it. My dirty mind and all. That’s what it was.
“Here’s my room and your room is upstairs. Is it okay if we set Spider-Man here at the table for now?” When Thayer and I simply nodded, we continued to trail behind him through the house and up the stairs.
“Gracie decorated for me if you’re wondering.”
“It was on the tip of my tongue. She did a great job.”
“Waste of money if you ask me. Why are pillows on the couch considered decorations? I don’t get it. But there’s no arguing with Grace. Here is where y’all can sleep. It should do y’all just fine for when Adrian shows up.”
I swallowed. I really was going to have to come clean with him now and let him know Adrian wasn’t showing up. Saying nothing though, I followed him into our room where there was a bed big enough for Thayer and I to share, a nightstand and a dresser.
“This door leads into the bathroom which is shared with the other room. That room is my office. Why don’t I leave y’all to rest for a while and do what you need? Make yourself at home, use whatever you need, do whatever you want. I can go fix dinner or something.”
He turned to leave but I stopped him. “Thatcher, wait.” I placed my hand on his back, feeling the muscle tense under my touch. He turned his stormy blue gaze on me. “Um, thank you for all of this. For everything.”
“No problem. Adrian wouldn’t want it any other way. He’d do the same for me if our positions were reversed.”
He walked out reminding me that he wasn’t doing this for me but for Adrian. Once again, I was being shown how inconsequential I was to him.
Not going to lie, it stung.
I turned to Thayer who had crawled up on to the big bed and was already drifting off to sleep. I pulled his tennis shoes off and looked around for a throw blanket, ignoring the gut-wrenching pain of having lost all of our possessions. I would have to get him a Spider-Man blanket soon enough. Finding a throw blanket in one of the dresser drawers, I covered Thayer and made my way into the bathroom.
The mirror officially confirmed I looked a ragged mess. I used the toilet and washed my face and when that didn’t help, the shower looking so enticing, I peeled off my clothes and turned the shower up as hot as it would go. Allowing the water to pour over my body, I finally let go of my strength and cried. I know it wasn’t worth much, but it was my stuff. All of my things – my clothes, my shoes, good Lord, even my make-up. All of it was gone. My pictures and my reading tablet. My books. Thayer’s baby box full of mementos from the hospital. His baby book that wasn’t finished. My mind was in inventory mode, thinking of all the things we’d lost. My marriage, even though that had been gone for a long time with this development, I could chalk it all up in one fell swoop.
Up in smoke.
When the water began to coo
l, I scrubbed my body, washed my hair and got out. My heap of clothes on the floor looked dirty and I really didn’t want to throw them back on. I gathered them up and quietly went into our room where Thayer still lay fast asleep. At the foot of the bed, folded up nice and neat was a bundle of clothes. Oh, my gosh. My heart melted quite a bit at the gesture.
I picked up the black sweatpants that would have to be rolled up quite a bit to stay on my hips. Automatically I brought the flannel shirt to my nose, inhaling the fresh laundered scent. I needed to tell Thatcher about Adrian and my divorce. With Thayer asleep, now, was probably the best time to do so. Lord knows something was going to hit the fan.
Pulling the sweats on and throwing the shirt over my bare skin, I bundled up all of my dirty clothes and headed down the stairs, leaving our bedroom door open, hoping Thayer wouldn’t get nervous if he woke up without me in there.
I hadn’t spotted Thatcher and he already had me in a tizzy. Something about wearing his sweatpants and shirt with no undergarments, I suppose. The fabric rubbing against me every step of the way felt like a warning of some sort. The strong smell of coffee permeated the air when I stepped into the dining room and kitchen. Thatcher’s hands gripped the edge of the counter as he stood facing the window above the sink. His head was bowed in a defeated warrior pose. Had his shoulders not been solid, strong against the world. I wondered what he was thinking about. Little flutters ran around my belly as I took in his lean, muscular backside and how his black t-shirt stretched taut across those solid shoulder blades.
Oh, man, the boy was made of the finest materials. As angry and hurt by him as I’d been from the past, it didn’t stop me from noticing every line, every muscle, every movement he made. He was the epitome of that saying, save the best for last. My gaze roamed over his perfectly-fit jeans and loved the way the denim hugged his butt like a glove. Those flutters in my belly continued as I made my way down to his work boots and slowly back up to his-
“You like what you see, Abigail?”
My cheeks heated in embarrassment as my eyes met his. He had that look about him again. The one that said I was lucky there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about this situation; otherwise, he’d have me in his arms in a New York minute. No way would I admit to checking him out. Especially to him. I couldn’t get my mouth to work to utter a single word.
Wild: A Small Town Romance (Love in Lone Star Book 2) Page 4
