From her scant wardrobe selections, Kenzie had chosen to wear her long skirt and peasant blouse. “You look pretty, too, Mom.”
“Happy birthday, dear Kenzie. I’ve missed you so.”
The weight of sadness in the words twisted Kenzie’s insides. “Missed you too, Mama.”
Pamela brightened. “Avery has set up our party outdoors, on the veranda.”
Kenzie glanced at the double doors leading to the tile-covered terrace that stretched across the back of the house, a completely furnished space with an outdoor kitchen, fireplace, and large-screen television. All the creature comforts. “Then let’s go have a party.” She stood and held out her hand, but her mother reached for her father’s.
Kenzie stepped away, took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm her heartbeat, which has gone erratic. “Mom, I brought a friend with me.”
“I…I thought it’d be, well…just the three of us?” Pamela looked confused, hesitant, somewhat fearful.
Avery leaned in to his wife, patted her hand hooked through his arm. “A man she works with. It’ll be all right, honey.”
Once out on the terrace, and after introductions, Pamela settled and turned into the familiar gracious hostess Kenzie had known growing up. “Lovely to meet you, Austin, and for such a festive occasion.” Pamela gazed tenderly at Kenzie. “Twenty-one today. How the time flies.”
Her mother’s eyes grew misty once more, and Kenzie knew that Pamela’s thoughts had turned to Caroline, the daughter who wasn’t present and never would be again. “Mom, why don’t you show Austin the koi pond before rain comes? I bragged to him about how you named every fish in it.”
Austin cut his eyes toward her but recovered quickly and held out his arm. “If you don’t mind, I’d really like to see it.”
Pamela took his arm. “Of course, it would be my pleasure. Just across the lawn at the far side of the flowerbed. Koi ponds are very peaceful.”
Kenzie watched them walk away, and when they were out of earshot, spun toward her father. “What is she taking? She’s not herself at all. How much weight has she lost? She’s way too thin.”
“Slow down. She’s under a doctor’s care, sees a therapist twice a week. The pills are for depression. If you kept in better touch, you’d know all this.” Avery’s comeback was quick and bit her because it was true. “You never came home after your semester ended. She looked for you and I had to make excuses about your new job.” He said the word contemptuously. “And when you do show up, you’re dragging some poor chump who works with you.”
Kenzie’s chin quivered. “It’s too hard being here.”
“Well, it’s pretty hard living here too. Place is like a mausoleum without—” His voice caught. “She won’t even go inside Caroline’s room. Looks just the same as it always did. Like she might come home any minute.”
“You go inside?”
He gave a brusque nod. “Sometimes, late at night after your mother’s asleep. She sleeps a lot,” he added wistfully. “I sit on the bed and stare at all Caro’s messiness. She never picked up a thing, as you know. Stuff just lies where she dropped it.” He paused, gathering himself. “But I feel better when I’m inside her space. Her room smells all powdery and sweet…like she always did. I look at that big ballerina painting hanging on the wall and the old photos taped to her mirror of kids I don’t even know. It’s like she just stepped out for a minute.”
Kenzie’s vision blurred with tears. “Are pictures of him still there?”
“I removed every trace of that vermin.” Avery’s jaw clenched. “I’d kill him with my bare hands if I thought it could bring her back.”
A warm breeze pushed the scent of impending rain through the terrace. “He took a scholarship to Alabama,” Kenzie said.
“I heard.” Avery’s eyes turned rock hard. “If there’d been any way I could have held him accountable…” He let the words of deep regret trail into silence.
“He covered his tracks well, and knowing and proving are two different things.” Kenzie’s heart twisted with unfulfilled revenge. “We did all we could, Daddy.”
Avery caressed Kenzie with his gaze. “Nice to hear you call me ‘Daddy’ again.”
She stiffened, remembering that she was angry about him soring horses. The wound wasn’t as deep and fresh as it had been before Caroline’s death, but it still felt tender. “I’ll keep in better touch with Mom, and I’ll come home before I return to Vandy in August.”
“We’re back,” Austin called as he and Pamela stepped onto the terrace, arm in arm. “Beautiful fish.”
Avery rushed to take his wife’s arm. “How about us having a party?”
Pamela smiled, and Kenzie could see that the time her mother spent with Austin had lifted her spirits. Austin did have a way about him that made a person want to lean on him, trust him.
The four of them went to a table where all the trappings of a party were laid out on a festive polka-dot tablecloth—sandwiches on a sterling silver platter and covered with a glass dome, a silver carafe of coffee, china teacups, crystal goblets circling a pitcher of sweet tea. Small glass plates and sterling silver flatware rounded out the ensemble.
The table’s centerpiece was a bejeweled candelabra displaying two tiers of decorated cupcakes with fluffy pink frosting. The top tier held a cluster of gift bags. Kenzie reached into the pocket of her skirt and brought out a small box and put it with the other gifts. In it was a gold charm she’d bought at Christmas for her mother’s bracelet. Looking at the gift was a painful reminder of her choice not to visit then, as well as the regret and heartache in the months that followed.
“Very nice,” Kenzie said, knowing that Avery would have had the party catered. She also saw that the table setting pleased her mother, a lover of old-Southern elegance.
Conversation flowed around Kenzie’s work with the rescue horses, and when it lagged, Austin offered a tidbit, an observation, a funny story. Somehow having him filling up the fourth chair at the table made the party bearable, and again Kenzie was thankful that he’d come with her. When presents were opened, Pamela admired the gold charm, said she’d have it put on her bracelet “right away.” Avery locked a glittering diamond bracelet around her wrist.
Kenzie opened her gift bag and discovered a gold necklace with a diamond horseshoe pendant and the number 21 in chips of blue sapphires across the U-shape.
“You like it?” Avery asked.
Her father would have certainly had it specially made for her. “Pretty fancy for a girl mucking stalls,” she said, slipping it around her neck, fingers fumbling with the clasp.
“Let me.” Austin jumped up. His fingers felt warm on the nape of her neck and goose bumps skittered up her back. “There,” he said, standing back.
She fingered the pendant. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“Perfectly lovely,” said Pamela, and turning to Avery, added, “I believe I’d like to go up to our room now. I’m tired, and so I beg you all to excuse me.”
Kenzie saw the strain of the day clearly on her mother’s face. Everybody stood and Kenzie wrapped her arms around her mother, swallowed the thickness in her throat. She wanted her mother again, that vibrant woman she’d known growing up. “I love you, Mama.”
“And I love you,” Pamela whispered in Kenzie’s ear. “And I miss you very much.”
“I promise to call and come visit you more often.”
Her mother’s hand slipped from hers. Avery, holding his wife close, told Kenzie and Austin, “I’ll sit with her for a while upstairs. You don’t have to rush off. Stay as long as you can.” The words were more of a plea than an invitation.
In the quiet aftermath of her parents’ departure, Kenzie felt numb, as if the grayness of the sky had migrated inside her. “There’s not much to do around here, so we can leave.”
Sensing that she was torn be
tween staying and going, Austin pointed to the farthest end of the sloping lawn beyond the terrace at a building that resembled a miniaturized duplicate of the main house. “Is that a pool house back there? I wouldn’t mind if you showed me around this place. It’s different from Bellmeade, and I’d like the two-dollar tour,” he added with a grin.
“Our horses—”
“Will be fine for a few more hours.” He and Kenzie had put them into their stalls before heading out for the day because of the sweltering weather. “They’re safe, and I’m in no hurry.”
Kenzie quickly realized that neither was she.
Kenzie set off across the green lawn and Austin fell into step beside her. The building’s front door opened into a large three-sided room filled with patio furniture arranged for conversation around a fire pit. A changing room stood at one end, along with stacks of baskets filled with pool floats and water games. The missing back wall allowed access to a paver-style deck surrounding a pool lined with bright Moroccan tiles. Low and high diving boards and a water slide hung over the blue water’s deep end.
“Impressive,” he said, walking to the pool’s edge. “Looks like pool heaven for kids.”
“We loved the pool. Mom sat under that umbrella in a lounger.” Kenzie gestured to a table with a folded green canvas umbrella that she could tell hadn’t yet been opened for the summer. “This is where Caro learned to dive. She was good too. Tried out for the community swim team in seventh grade and made it.”
“And you?”
“I was never much of a swimmer, but I cheered for her at meets.” As Kenzie glanced around, she saw that the area looked shipshape and well kept, ready for a family who would not come again. So many summer days spent poolside, now left desolate and devoid of happy children.
“There was no community pool in the boonies where I lived, but we had a creek nearby.” Austin pulled her into the present. “That’s where me and a bunch of rowdy friends swam. Braveheart loved the water. It came as high as his underbelly in places, and we conquered many a water dragon”—he paused for dramatic effect—“dragonfly,” he finished with a grin. “Sometimes when the guys rode their horses over, we’d pack food, take long rides, build campfires, and spend the night. Have you ever slept under the stars in a sleeping bag?”
“Never. We camped out in the pool house.”
“Wow, you really roughed it,” he mused, glancing over his shoulder at the luxurious room. She jabbed him in the arm. He hooked his thumbs on the back pockets of his khakis. “By the way, I enjoyed the birthday party. And for the record, and at the risk of you shoving me in the pool, your dad didn’t come across as an ogre. He seemed happy to see you, and it looked like you just showing up made his day. Just sayin’.”
“My father and his trainer abused horses. I can’t forgive him for that.” Yet even as she said the words, the old hurt and anger was not as raw and ragged as it had once been. In the familiar surroundings of her family home, and with her and Avery’s brief conversation about Caroline, her ire had cooled, and her perspective subtly shifted. Her father’s concern for her mother was etched in the lines of his face, and Kenzie clearly saw that he grasped Pamela’s fragility. On this day, Kenzie and her father had been more comrades than adversaries.
Austin bent, plucked a yellow dandelion poking between two pavers, and offered it to Kenzie with a grin. “I liked your mom too. She treated me like a welcome guest instead of an interloper. I’m glad I had a chance to meet her.”
Kenzie toyed with the flower. “Our family was always the focus of Mom’s life. She doted on us. She went to every one of Caroline’s ballet classes and swim events, and came to every riding competition of mine and Dad’s. When I was growing up, she and I rode together and had long girl talks. Her horse, Buttercup, was a gift from Dad.” Kenzie’s voice filled with nostalgia. “Why, I’ll bet Mom hasn’t ridden ever since—” Kenzie stopped abruptly, heading off dark memories.
Covering the awkward moment, Austin said, “Why don’t we continue the tour?”
“The stables are on the far side of that pasture, and we shouldn’t leave without you seeing Blaze, the grand champion. We’ll cut across the side lawn and climb over the fence rail.” She pointed and they started across the lawn just as the skies opened. “This way!” she shouted, changing course.
Together they ran toward a freestanding white gazebo positioned a short distance from the main house and arrived breathless and laughing. “We should have seen that coming!”
The octagon-shaped gazebo had half walls lined with hinged boxes for seating and a plank floor. “Nice,” he said, making a circle to take in the view of the edge of the main house’s terrace, the pool area, and a swath of flower gardens.
“Daddy had it built for Caro and me. Told us it was our dollhouse where could play on rainy days.” She began to lift hinged tops and pull out floor cushions and old blankets, handing them to Austin. “We used to pretend it was a castle and we were prisoners, and a prince was coming to rescue us.”
Together she and Austin spread old quilts and mounds of pillows on the floor. They sat and he asked, “Any princes ever show up?”
“Not once.” She smiled and lay down, resting her head on a pink pillow. “But we played with dolls and ate a lot of lunches out here waiting for them.” Summer rain pattered on the roof, and soon the space grew cozy. “Look up,” she said.
He stretched out beside her and on the gazebo’s ceiling saw four painted unicorns, their magical horns sparkling with glitter paint. He laughed. “Unicorns? Seriously? You lived on a horse farm with real horses.”
“I preferred the real horses, but Caro wanted unicorns, so Dad commissioned the artwork. She loved fairy tales and Disney movies, and was also four years younger than me, so she held on to the dream of Prince Charming a whole lot longer.” Kenzie stopped abruptly, as childhood images of Caroline tumbled through her head.
Her sister’s wild frizz of strawberry-blond hair, wide blue eyes, and plump cheeks, her favorite doll tucked under her arm in a headlock.
“But why won’t you play dolls with me, Kenz?”
“Because I don’t like dolls anymore. I’m too old for dolls, and so are you. You’re acting like a baby!”
“I should have been kinder to her.” Kenzie whispered the words, forgetting that for Austin, her confession would make little sense. She cleared her throat and offered a self-conscious shrug.
Sensing she needed a diversion, Austin said, “So tell me, how did you make the leap from unicorns into the harsh world of reality?”
“You really want to know?” He waited for her to say something flippant. “My first wake-up call came when I was twelve and my doctors told us that my heart and blood vessels were damaged and scarred from Kawasaki disease. That’s when I stopped believing in princes and unicorns.”
Hearing the serious tone in her voice, he rose up on his elbow. “But you told me you take medicine for your heart.”
“Medicine slows the process, but it doesn’t fix the problem. Plus, even at twelve, I didn’t want anyone to think of me as ill or impaired. I didn’t feel like I was broken. Why act like it? I decided I’d be strong and fearless. I became an anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better kind of person. Having a crappy heart condition wasn’t going to slow me down. So far, it hasn’t.”
“Was your dad your role model? He seems like a take-charge kind of guy.”
“Back then he was, but when I was eighteen, part two of my reality check slapped me in the face. I discovered the truth about him and how he mistreated horses.”
“Technically, his trainer mistreated his horses.”
Kenzie gave him a withering glance.
“I know it’s none of my business, but it’s obvious your dad cares about you, and yet you steer clear of him. Two years now?”
She held Austin’s blue-green eyes, the blue gone in the murky daylight a
s if by magic. “You think me unforgiving, don’t you?”
“I’m just commenting. I know how much you love horses, but still…” He let the sentence hang, knowing by speaking out he’d taken a risk.
“You’re right—it’s none of your business.” She said the words softly, then added, “But please, I want you to understand something: I love my father. He’s given me the best life possible, and I’m grateful. So, yes, I love him. I just don’t like him very much.”
Rain pattered on the roof, soft as teardrops. Austin switched gears. “So tell me, how was your sister different from you, the girl who loved horses?”
“Caroline was tiny, pretty, and girly, much more like Mom. They liked doing the same things together—shopping, arts and crafts, that kind of stuff.” Kenzie wrinkled her nose. “I liked the horses, the feel of wind on my face when I rode, the control I had over a thousand-pound animal to make him change gaits and turn on a dime with a squeeze of my knees and a tug of the reins. I want to keep that feeling of power for as long as I’m able.”
He felt an uptick in his pulse. What was she so afraid of? What wasn’t she telling him? “You work as hard as any man I’ve ever known,” he offered. “Plus, you’re better-looking.”
Her blue eyes, fringed by long lashes, pulled at him. From the beginning, he’d found her intriguing, physically beautiful, emotionally wary, and cloaked in a thick shield of self-protection. But today she’d pulled back the curtain on her psyche, and Austin was struck by a wave of tenderness. She hadn’t braided her hair, and the damp strands fanned out on the pillow in feathery waves. His gaze drifted along her high cheekbones, the curve of her jaw, the dimple in her chin, then stopped cold on the horseshoe pendant nestled in the hollow of her throat. Instantly, he realized he’d let down his guard. Despite all his self-lectures, he’d almost slipped up. Kenzie Caine was off-limits in every way.
He jumped up. “Looks like the rain shower’s over.” His tone was gruff, curt. “It’s getting late, and as much as I’d like to see your father’s prize stallion, I think we’d better get back.” He stood and began picking up the pillows and quilts and stuffing them into the seat boxes.
The Girl with the Broken Heart Page 8
