Leaving Yesterday

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Leaving Yesterday Page 8

by Zoe Dawson


  “No, but as a beekeeper, I’ve been stung enough times. Fact of life, but the better I get at managing them, the less I get stung.”

  Henry bagged the items. Clem was someone that Rafferty would love to know better. She was energetic, quirky, and interesting. She didn’t have many friends like her in New York. She worked too hard and had to maintain a certain presence at work. The people she met outside of work were elegant and all about making money. Really more Sean’s friends. She’d lost touch with most of them.

  “It was really nice to meet you, Clem. Thanks for the hand lotion. Can’t wait to try it.”

  Clem walked her out. “Hey, Paw Paw and Moose.” She greeted the old men and briefly introduced them to Rafferty. “Moose owns the feed store, and Paw Paw is a trapper, a bona fide mountain man.”

  He chuckled at that. “Glad to meet you,” he said. Rafferty waved as Clem got into an olive-green jeep and drove off.

  She looked down the street. It was time to bite the bullet and talk to Trace. Not sure how that was going to go, she got a little snap of energy sparking in her stomach as she thought about him. Her footsteps lighter, she headed back to Eden’s.

  —

  When Trace woke up, he realized he’d slept through the night. Tired as all get out, he supposed. The illuminated numbers read six on the button. He shoved the covers back and went to Harley’s room. He was still sound asleep, and Trace breathed a sigh of relief. He’d hate to think his brother needed something in the night and he hadn’t heard.

  He turned to look at Cadie’s closed door. She would be up by now because she had to catch the bus at seven. He felt a rush of the uncomfortable feeling he’d harbored last night. His family wasn’t a charity case.

  After he was showered and dressed, he went out and opened up the garage as Jimmy Easton, one of his cashiers, came across the concrete, sidling past the pumps.

  “Hey, Trace,” he said as he went inside and into the back to start stocking the beverage coolers and racks. Walking back to the house, he knocked on Cadie’s door. “Come on, squirt. Time to get up.”

  She pulled the door open, her hair all over the place and her sleepy eyes annoyed. “I have an alarm clock that works perfectly well,” she grumbled.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Then are you checking to make sure I have under—”

  He covered his ears. “No, and don’t say it.”

  “—wear?” She giggled. “Yeah, that’s for making me change my skirt.”

  He pulled the keys out of his jeans pocket and dangled them. “I got this done for you.”

  Her face softened immediately at the thickness in his voice. “Aw, Trace, you…”

  “Rock?”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  He offered the keys. “Here. You earned this. Go ahead, take them. I’ve got to get you insured first, but now that you have your license, you’re one step closer.”

  She took the keys. Her face softened even more, her eyes glistening. “Oh, shoot, don’t go and do that.”

  She stepped forward, pressing her face to his chest and wrapping her arms around him fiercely. He knew it wasn’t just about the car. They were all on edge and worried. He hugged her back hard, holding her. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

  “Okay,” she murmured against his shirt.

  “Hey, can I get in on this lovefest?”

  “Yes,” Cadie mumbled as Reese sidled up to them and enfolded them in a big bear hug.

  As they parted, Trace cleared his throat. “Hurry up or you’ll miss the bus, shrew.”

  “All right, bossy.”

  Reese laughed. “You are pretty bossy.”

  “Don’t you have something to do?” Trace said, setting his hands on his hips.

  “Yeah, I’m heading over to help Eden with a stuck door.”

  “You spend enough time over there.”

  Reese shrugged. “She’s a single mom and a busy doctor. So what’s the biggie?” Trace held up his hands at Reese’s tone as he went to the kitchen.

  Trace went back out to the garage after he made his coffee. Reese sounded defensive. What was up with that? Chuckling, he saw Cadie running for the bus. That girl. As he entered, he came face-to-face with Eden.

  “Hello, Trace.”

  He ducked under the hood. “You here to see Harley?”

  “Of course I am. I want to check his stitches and give him something to keep him calm.” She ducked under the hood with him, not about to let him off the hook.

  “Is someone smitten?”

  “No,” he groused. “She…bothers me.”

  Her brow quirked. “Does she?”

  “In an irritating sort of way,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t go getting any ideas. I ain’t interested.”

  “You ain’t?”

  “No, and stop looking at me all smug-like,” he said, straightening.

  She studied him and he felt like a bug under a microscope. But, he couldn’t fault her. It was her job to maintain the health of the Laurel Falls citizens. “Do you want something to help you sleep?”

  “No. I need to be there for Harley. He’s…” His voice was thick. “He’s restless at night.”

  “Have you thought about—”

  “We’re discussing options, but I don’t like the idea of sending him anywhere.”

  “I know you’ve worked hard to keep this family together,” she said quietly. “I know it’s not easy to admit that maybe he needs more than you can give him. I know your dad was pretty sick, and the burden fell on you for a long time. But, Trace, there’s no shame in admitting that you need help, that you wanted more.”

  “I’m doing just fine.”

  “I know about you wanting to go to school for engineering, Trace. Your dad told me when he was dying. He said that he failed you. Made you responsible before your time. You wanted to go to school on the GI Bill.”

  He chucked the wrench against the workbench. “He didn’t fail us. She failed us,” he said bitterly. “She failed him. There was no picking up those pieces. So, I’m happy here fixing cars. I used to want more, but, Eden, my family comes first. Always will.”

  She ran her hand down his arm, squeezing in a friendly, supportive way. “You are contrary, but you’re a good man, I’ll go see your brother. Oh, there’s Rafferty,” Eden said with a nudge.

  “I told you—”

  She chuckled. “You keep telling yourself that, mister. I don’t think Rafferty is going to put up with any of your shenanigans.”

  He smiled at that, some of the tension abating. “Yes, ma’am.” Commander Princess had sent a pretty clear message that she wasn’t going to. “Reese is going to help you with your door.”

  “Oh,” she said, looking down. “That is great.”

  “Good morning.”

  He turned around and wanted to groan. She looked delectable today, sexy without even trying.

  “I need to rent a car.”

  “There are no rentals around here.” His heart sank, thinking she was going to leave. It was what he wanted, right? “Glacier Park Airport is the closest place to do that. It’s south of here about ten miles. I doubt they have anything as fancy as what you were driving.”

  “That’s fine, as long as those piston things keep going around, and I don’t have to push it, I’ll manage,” she said, her tone gently challenging. She widened her eyes and tilted her head. “I might need help in finding out how you put gas in it, though.”

  His mouth quirked. “Are you going to head out then?”

  “What? No. I’m going to wait for my car. Besides, I have a few things I wanted to do here.”

  “Like what?”

  “See Glacier for one. The falls for two. It wasn’t until I saw it this morning that I thought I would love to hike up there. Your sister says there’s a trail.”

  “There is, and it’s a beautiful hike. Glacier is worth taking the time to see. Fair enough. I can take you to Glacier Park to get the rental.”

&nb
sp; “You don’t mind? I’m not somehow getting in your way?”

  He deserved all those little evil digs. She was a clever one. So far it was Commander, three, and him, zippo. He blew out a breath and walked past her, through the waiting room. She followed, and he said, “Jimmy, I’ll be back in about an hour. Call me on my cell if you need me.”

  “Will do.”

  Outside they got into a big gray truck. He turned the engine over and pulled out of Black’s, heading away from Moose’s Feed and Grain and the shabby town sign. When he hit Highway 40, he drove for about three miles, then took a right onto Halfmoon Road.

  “You’re heading north.”

  “I got my direction perfectly correct.”

  “All right,” she said.

  He drove on until the roar of the falls was clear inside the cab. Rafferty was already making oohing and ahhing noises. Then she saw the closed inn, and she said, “Stop, please.”

  He pulled the truck into the expansive drive and turned off the engine.

  There was no sweeter, more spectacular view or peaceful area than right here. The inn backed up to the falls where there were natural hot springs, the smell of clean, clear water mingled with the faint whiff of sulfur. She got out of the truck the moment it stopped.

  “Oh my God,” she breathed.

  She laughed such a sound of pure pleasure, it tightened his gut.

  “I had no idea there was anything this beautiful in the world,” she said, her voice still awe-hushed. “Look at that rainbow.”

  He looked up through the trees, and, sure enough, the falls’ cascade of water and the way the sun was shining produced a vivid rainbow. The sky was as big as the state boasted and as blue as Rafferty’s just as gorgeous eyes.

  Something shifted inside of him as he watched her like a kid rush up to the beautiful rustic porch of the inn and peer through the windows. Something that was new and different, incomprehensible. She wasn’t anything he expected, didn’t act the way he expected, and he wanted to put her into the same box as his mom. She was wealthy and privileged, and she didn’t act like it. She had floored him by baking cupcakes for his sister—but tipping her with the amount she did was still a bit excessive.

  Rafferty Hamilton was dangerous. He knew that in the way he sensed threat in the desert, his warrior instincts on red-hot alert.

  He stayed away from any heart entanglements, had never been tempted to get any closer than skin to skin for a night of fun, to relieve his needs, to feel connected if only for a few hours. He scored so he wouldn’t get caught and cut. His heart had enough scars on it already.

  He also had enough turmoil to deal with. Harley was going to take the kind of care that most people wouldn’t want to deal with. Rafferty, he was convinced, included. She had a life in New York City, he told himself sternly.

  If only it helped to keep him from getting any deeper.

  Chapter 7

  Rafferty couldn’t get enough of this place. It touched something wild and hidden inside her. Something locked sprung free, and her gut churned with the wonderful feeling. She raced around to the back as she heard Trace’s soft, genuine laughter.

  She couldn’t help it. She wanted to see it all. The roar of the falls filled her chest, the mist from the tumbling water catching in her hair, moistening her face, and dampening her clothes. She breathed in the fresh scent. This was the place she needed to rejuvenate and regroup, throwing off the melancholy of her divorce, Sean’s betrayal, and the terrible feelings of failure that still dogged her.

  She closed her eyes and understood what it meant to commune with nature. She heard the sound of footsteps behind her.

  “I thought you would like this place. The trail is over there.” He pointed it out and she saw a path through the trees.

  Her heart pounded wildly, and her hands weren’t quite steady as she whirled around. She faced him, his eyes flashing that knee-melting blue in the sunlight. The mist coating his black hat only made him more devastating.

  His shoulder was braced against one of the trees, his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his tight jeans, the stance pulling the fabric of his plaid shirt taut across his chest. As he shifted his weight slightly, his altered position accentuated the strong contours of his jaw and the muscled thickness of his neck, and Rafferty was suddenly keenly aware of his powerful build.

  In the bright light of the day, the hair the sun touched had the same sheen as gleaming mahogany, the darkness of it contrasting sharply with his tan and the dark fabric of his shirt. He was watching her with an intentness that Rafferty found unsettling, making her even more conscious of him as a man. Everything about him was disturbingly masculine: his looks, his size, his strength, even the way he moved.

  He possessed animal grace, the same energy that moved beneath the coat of a horse, only Trace’s sexuality was all out there without any restraint, dangerously attractive.

  That line of suggestive thinking got her into deep and treacherous waters as vivid images took shape in her mind, and Rafferty suddenly found it difficult to breathe. The sensation intensified as Trace straightened and, with that loose-hipped gait, sauntered toward her.

  There was something in his eyes, some vague expression touching on gratitude that was a dead giveaway, and Rafferty knew what he was going to do.

  She was happy to forget the awkward moment. He wasn’t. “I owe you an apology for last night,” he said quietly.

  She raised her shoulders in a gesture of assent. She responded, “Couldn’t we just forget it?”

  Trace was standing very close, closer than he had been last night. This time he wasn’t trying to intimidate her. She was transfixed by the intensity of his gaze as he shook his head. “No, we can’t. I have a low threshold these days, but I had no right to be such a jerk about you making cupcakes.”

  Something was happening between them that Rafferty couldn’t quite define, but whatever it was, it was something she didn’t want to happen. Her voice was oddly husky when she said, “My bullshit meter has a low threshold. We’re bound to strike sparks off each other.”

  He almost smiled, the lights in his eyes twinkling, making her knees go weaker. She caught the full force of the Black charm, the real Trace, as he added very softly, “Of one sort or another.”

  For a breathless moment, they stood staring at each other, then Trace broke the spell. Looking down, he gently caught one of her hands and squeezed it, slowly caressing the edge of her thumb. “About the hundred you tipped my sister. We really don’t need charity, if that was your intention.”

  “The tip was my decision, and it was for an amazing meal. Your sister can cook. You shouldn’t undervalue her.” His touch did strange things to both her equilibrium and her pulse rate, and Rafferty somehow managed to control the nearly irresistible urge to lace her fingers through his.

  His voice was strained when he said, “I guess you’re right. My sister can cook. No doubt about it. She deserves what she gets.”

  She smiled. “Now, was that so hard?”

  “Ah, no. It was my stubbornness and my own…baggage that set me off in the first place and really had nothing to do with you. I’m quite aware of it now.”

  Oh, damn. This was really a terrible turn of events. So, Trace Black wasn’t just a charmer, he was a stalwart brother and the protector of his family, only solidifying her suspicion that he had complexity.

  There was a strange tightness in her chest as she watched him lean his back fully against the tree, remove his hat and slap it against his thigh to release some of the water that had accumulated, smooth his hair back and jam it back on.

  Studying his face, she was hoping for some clue as to what was going through his mind. His full mouth pulled into an unyielding line, and there was an unusual tenseness about him that she found particularly distressing. He seemed so isolated, and Rafferty had a sudden urge to comfort him. And for her that was a dangerous feeling. When she had switched from thinking of Trace as a stranger to a man who was as sexually attractive
, as compelling, as Trace now was, she was in very big trouble.

  She found that her voice was treacherously unsteady when she suddenly found the courage to broach a topic that had been troubling her. “Your brother is very ill, and you didn’t want me to judge him, did you?”

  There was a bleak look in Trace’s eyes as he turned to face her. He stared at her for a moment, then answered in a strained tone. “No, I didn’t.” As if drawn against his will, he came over to her, and as though he were fighting a losing battle with himself, he trailed his knuckles along her jaw, his touch gentle. “I still wish you had broken down outside some other town,” he said, his voice low. “But for entirely different reasons now.”

  Rafferty managed to smile as he stepped away.

  The back of the inn was as compelling as the front. It had a wide porch for people to sit and have a meal, talk, or just take in the view. She could see how easy it would be to build a path down to the springs. It made her sad to think this had closed, the landscape had long gone to seed, and the outside of the sturdy structure was showing wear.

  “Tell me why this place is empty and closed.”

  “The owner is an old guy. He couldn’t manage it anymore. He’s had offers, but from big corporations. He’s worried it would ruin the economy and damage the environment. This quaint inn is something worth preserving.”

  “It definitely is. I simply love it.” And, there, right there, is when she got the notion that running this small inn in this beautiful area would fulfill something lacking inside her. But, that was a pipe dream. This kind of a place was too small to entice her father, and he would be totally against her doing anything but what she was trained for. From the sounds of it, the owner would not be interested in an offer from Hamilton. She sighed softly.

  “We’d better get going,” he said. “I don’t want to leave Jimmy too long, and I’ve got a carburetor job to get done today.”

  Back in the truck, Rafferty watched until the little inn disappeared from view. Suddenly weary, she faced forward.

 

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