by Robin Bayne
She nodded, still gazing upward, as he had. What he said made sense, and made her feel grateful for all that she did have in her life. Colt was entitled to his memories, just as Liz had said, even those of Cami. They were just pictures of his past. If she wanted, Colt could be her future.
“I met Matt at work one night, after a really grueling final exam. He came in with Liz and some others. We all took turns taking care of Derek, and when I worked, Liz and Matt usually kept him. Did you know I used to work in a greasy spoon diner while I was in school--cooked up lots of eggs and scrapple.”
He took his arm from his face, and tilted his head so their gazes could meet. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. My scholarship was only a partial one, and I had a lot of expenses.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I graduated with only two small student loans still to pay off.”
“I mean I’m sorry that I thought you’d had it easier than that. You might not have noticed, but I had a bit of an attitude about that.”
Oh, she’d noticed. “I never had any money until Mom died. I paid for school myself and when I inherited, I wanted to save that for my future.”
Colt sat up, slowly. “The inn?”
Tia nodded, plucking pieces of grass from the lawn. The blades were cool and rubbery, yet so fragile, like a new relationship. “Your Gran would really be proud of you, here, taking care of the place. I knew that was part of why you’d come back.” She paused, tying blades into a knot. “When I first got here, what gave you the impression I must be slumming? A snob? You said some things that sound as if you thought I must be lowering myself to want to be here.”
He looked over at her, stroking his five-o’clock shadowed chin. His facial muscles were taut, the corners of his mouth turned down. “You mean ‘who’ gave me that idea?”
And she knew. It could only have been Cami, who’d been so jealous when Tia had done everything first. Got her ears pierced first. Got to babysit first. Went to the prom first. And not that Cami knew it, got tattooed first. Cami had always been that way, and Tia almost didn’t feel anything anymore. She could ask exactly what her sister had said, what lies she’d told, but what did it matter?
A clap of thunder boomed overhead, and Tia noticed the air had changed, the way it did just before a storm. She felt as if an electrical charge hovered nearby, but that could just be Colt’s close proximity.
“I am so sorry,” he said. “I don’t know how it all happened. How did I lose you?” He slid across the quilt to her, and Tia felt his breath on her neck. The air here was definitely charged.
“You had a lot of help.” And that was true, mentally summing up the accident, the amnesia, her sister−life.
“Let’s see if we can get their attention. It will be raining soon.” Colt stood and reached a hand down for Tia, offering.
The wind picked up, pushing strands of hair into her eyes. Tia let Colt help her up, feeling a sense of déjà vu as his strong grasp pulled her to her feet. He’d done it before, as a summer storm brewed overhead, and the air had crackled between them. So had the awareness.
Facing him now, Tia looked up into his dark eyes. Did he remember? Did he feel it?
His eyes said he did.
Tia pressed her palms to his chest, and when he stepped closer, she moved her hands up to circle his neck. More déjà vu.
Lightening lit them for a split second, and Tia could see how much Colt wanted her. It made her shiver. The tension made her lick her lips, watching his head lower to hers, feeling his hands pulling her against him.
She sighed his name.
“You are so beautiful.” With his hands roaming her back, he deepened the kiss.
Tia wanted more.
A shriek came from the lake.
11
“Don’t be mad,” Liz pleaded minutes later as she perched on the inn’s kitchen counter.
“You scared us half to death!” Tia poured a glass of water and tapped her nails against the smooth tumbler. She had to chide her friend, for Colt’s sake.
He stood against the far wall, his head barely clearing a shelf of plates, his arms crossed in stony silence.
“It’s my fault. I was tickling her.” Jake hooked his thumbs in his belt and rocked back on his heels. “I didn’t know she’d squeal like that and I sure didn’t know it would freak him out.”
“If you hadn’t brought the boat over here, it wouldn’t be an issue.”
No one spoke, only the refrigerator made noise as it kicked on, humming.
Colt headed for the sliders. “Don’t worry about it. I overreacted.” The screen door slammed and shook in its track. The rain had started to fall, in white sheets sent in spirals by the wind.
Jake turned to Tia. “I’ll be back Sunday morning to help set up. I’ll bring the ice, too.”
“Thanks, Jake. And Colt’s not mad at you...he’s just...”
Liz hopped off the counter and brushed off her butt. “Overly sensitive?”
“A little crazy?” Jake offered.
Tia rolled her eyes. “Guilty. I think he’s feeling guilty all the time.”
“If anyone can help, it’s you. He’s lucky to have you.” Jake surprised Tia with a kiss on the cheek. “Going to try?”
“’Course she is.” Liz took Jake’s hand. “Let’s go, big guy. Tia needs to talk to the Coltster. Maybe more than talk.”
They left, and both turned back to leer at her. They were friendly, go-for-it leers, and they warmed Tia from the inside.
She didn’t know if she could act on anything more than talk; she felt overwhelmed. Today she’d found out why George had turned on her, and why Colt had made those snide comments about her working in a small and homey place. She’d kissed him. And she’d come to the conclusion that he was carrying around a ball and chain made of guilty feelings.
Cami was the one who should feel that way.
Unfortunately, Tia had no clue how to fix that for Colt. She went to look for him anyway. After covering the grounds, she found him back in the garage. She had carried an umbrella, her sneakers sticking in muddy patches. Now, she watched him in the doorway, the dim light of one bulb over his head.
Clutching a small knife, Colt sat on a metal stool, shaving away at a piece of light wood. “You might as well come in,” he said, not looking up. Wood fragments dusted the floor, though he’d barely started, it seemed. “And close the door.”
Tia entered, set her umbrella in one corner, and kicked off her shoes. There wasn’t much she could do about the dirty streaks on her feet, so she ignored them, crossing to where Colt sat.
He looked intent on something he wanted to appear from that block of wood.
“Hey, Colt?” Tia looked around the double-car garage, saw a collapsed step stool and dragged it over to his corner, the end missing its plastic cap screeching on the concrete floor. “What are you carving?”
“A horse. Should be interesting, considering I’ve only made boats. The legs will be a challenge.”
“Colt?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you ever miss being a pilot?”
He didn’t look up, just kept his fingers steady on his work. “I guess. Not that I’ve been whittling any 747s or anything. Why?”
She cleared her throat, hoping she knew where she was taking this. “Well, sometimes I think about it−how much you used to love flying, and then I feel bad that you never went back to it.”
Dust flew thicker into the air.
His tool scraped across the grain, small, grating noises, the only sounds in the garage except for the rain thumping the roof.
Tia shifted on her stool, the black rubber ridges made for traction hurting her backside. “I used to feel, and sometimes still do, that if I hadn’t gotten you to take me out on the lake that day, you’d still be a pilot.”
He finally looked up. “What?” His brows creased together. “You think it’s your fault?”
She shrugged. “Maybe partly. I e
nticed you out there, even though the weather was iffy. I feel guilty about it. I wish I’d done things differently.” Tia sat on her hands. “Sometimes,” she went on, whispering, “I even feel bad that I didn’t come back while you were with Cami and make sure you were happy. If I loved you the way I thought I did, I would have wanted you to be happy, no matter who you were with.” She’d never admitted it to herself before, but it was true. Liz had her doing her own soul-searching as well as reaching out to Colt.
His motions slowed, and Colt set the wood and tools on the bench before him, then brushed the dust from his hands.
“Colt, I knew what I was doing when I came for the auction.”
“Meaning?”
“I knew you’d show up. I couldn’t stay away.” Tia smiled, feeling close to tears. Relieved tears. “Please come here.”
Colt crossed the few feet between them and stood in front of her, pulling her head into his chest. With his arms wrapped around her, they rocked a few times.
“If I promise to not feel so...responsible for everything, would you promise the same? Colt, we weren’t at fault for it all, not everything. Other factors were involved. I think−”
“I promise,” he said, burying his hands in her hair. He bent farther and captured her lips with his. “At least I’ll do my best. Marry me. Please, say you’ll think about it.” Stroking her hair, his breathing came faster as he pushed the hair off her face. “You have a huge weekend, we both have a lot to do, and I want you to rest tonight. I want to take my time, remember everything. So, not until after you’ve forgiven me enough to be my wife.”
She knew how much that meant to him and nodded.
“Soon, then?”
“OK,” she whispered. “And Colt, just so you know−no matter what happens, I won’t let you forget me again.”
~*~
With only one day left to prepare, Tia sat on the parlor floor, cross-legged amidst a blizzard of white netting and plastic silver bells. Jordan almonds. Birdseed. And best of all, tiny doves made of crystallized white sugar, the very center of her special wedding favors.
“I really appreciate your help,” she told Liz, who lay on her stomach near the fireplace, cutting net squares. “I didn’t expect it to take so long.”
“Yeah, well, you also thought you had another month to get them done. Ouch!”
Looking over, Tia shook her head. “Hey, don’t get blood on the materials or you don’t get paid.”
“Where do you want this frou-frou stuff?” Colt stood in the arched entryway, a grin on his face. His arms were stacked with linens, pressed white tablecloths and dinner napkins.
Tia rolled her eyes. “Would you put them on the dining room table, please?”
“I’d like to get paid,” Liz chimed in, from her reclining position on the floor. A pile of net circles sat to her right, a much larger ball of scraps to her left.
“Yeah?” Colt turned her direction, shifting the linens.
Tia snorted. “OK, knock it off, you two.” She wasn’t sure where this conversation was headed but she didn’t like it.
Liz sat up. “You know, I bet Tia would−”
“Liz!” Tia interrupted her friend, warmth flooding her face. She grabbed one of the sugar doves and went to where Liz sat and stuffed it into her mouth.
Colt laughed behind them. “I really would have liked to hear the rest of that sentence.”
“I’ll bet you would. Too bad.” She took a stack of napkins from him. “Let’s go out back and check on the grill supplies.”
Outside, Tia took one look at the sky and grimaced. “Oh, no, is it supposed to rain this weekend?” She needed to keep some of the wedding guests outdoors, for a more comfortable feel. Of course she had alternate plans in case of rain, but it wouldn’t be as nice. And she wouldn’t be able to use that lovely platform Colt had built.
“This time of year, who knows?” Colt checked the propane tank that fueled the grill. “I’ll ask Jake to pick up another tank, just in case.”
“Speak, and it shall come to you,” Tia said, catching sight of Jake walking toward them. “Look who’s here.”
Colt raised a hand in greeting. “I asked him to drop off some samples.”
“Really? What kind?” Tia’s mind raced. Something for the horses?
“Well, it was supposed to be a surprise, for after the reception.”
They met Jake in the field. Tia looked from one man to the other, practically bouncing from foot to foot. What had Jake brought?
“Thanks, man.” Colt clapped Jake’s shoulder in a brotherly way.
“No prob. We won’t need them again until we start a new model home.” Jake looked at Tia. “You all ready for tomorrow?”
“Pretty much. Liz has been a real help.”
That caught Jake’s attention. “She around?”
Tia smiled. “In the parlor. Be careful, though, she’s armed with sharp scissors.”
“Thanks for the warning, but I’ve been real good lately.” Jake winked and left them alone.
Colt took Tia’s hand and pulled her toward the carriage house, where she could still smell the faint remnants of burnt wood.
“So what is it? What’s the surprise?”
“You’re so impatient. C’mon.” Colt led her to the back entrance and into the carriage house.
“Wow, you’ve got this cleaned up. When did you have time to do this?” The first floor smelled more like glue and construction materials now than fire-damaged wood.
Colt shrugged. “Here and there. Look.” He led her to a worktable fashioned from sawhorses and plywood. Three cartons and three rectangular boards waited. “Paint chips, carpet samples, and a wallpaper book.” He pointed to the corner. “Some faucets and ceramic tiles. In the white box are door knobs, appliance color swatches.”
Tia’s mouth hung open. “You’ll let me make the loft look that good? An outhouse you think of as male domain?” She clapped her hands together. “What fun! I don’t know where to start.” Touching one of the carpet boards, Tia enjoyed the feeling of rough wool beneath her fingers.
“Out building, and, well, you’d better not think about losing yourself in this mess until after tomorrow.”
“You’re right.” She released a dramatic sigh. “I can’t wait. I never thought you’d let me make so many choices.”
He shrugged again. “You’re paying.”
“Regardless, I made it clear I wanted nothing to do with the rest of the buildings. So thank you.” Tia touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry for what I said the other day about this not being a ranch. I was having trouble acknowledging that I’d have to share the management of the inn with you. Well, with anyone. I didn’t want to let go of my ultimate vision for the place. It was kind of, um...”
“Immature?” he filled in helpfully.
Tia replaced her shoulder caress with a light punch. “No! Well, maybe a little.”
He took her hand and kissed her knuckles before letting it drop. “Sometimes the best things haven’t matured yet.”
“Like what?” She was right in his face, her lips mere inches from his, her adrenalin flowing from the thought of designing the room upstairs. At least, that was part of the reason her skin was tingling and her hands shaking.
His head tilted closer to hers. “For one thing, a first kiss between two people in love is always special.”
“And lovemaking?”
He touched her cheek, pushed a strand of hair behind one ear. “Priceless. But you’ll be committed to me first.”
A soft pattering on the roof began, and Tia groaned. “Here it comes. Summer rain.” They listened for a few seconds.
“It’s only a light shower, nothing torrential,” Colt said, his head cocked to the side.
“Is the paint dry on the platform and arch, do you think?”
“Should be fine by now. It was made for the outdoors.” He looked into her eyes. “Meant to endure.”
Tia’s skin glistened by the time they reached the hous
e, the rain falling in lazy, teasing drops. It was the kind of light drizzle that brought out the oil on the pavement and made it so dangerous to drive, and the kind that glistened on female skin and made them, oh, so dangerous to be near.
With a giggle, Tia did some sort of flying ballet leap onto the back deck, and Colt hurried his pace, jogging a bit, when one ankle turned under him. “Uggh!”
“Colt!” Tia flew back to the yard. “Are you OK?”
He didn’t roll his eyes at her mothering. “Fine.” With a low grunt he hobbled to a deck chair, lifted his foot and rotated the ankle. Pain sliced up his calf−but it was mild. It stopped short of his knee, so he could handle it.
“You know I asked Tim to make sure the yard was safe for the guests.”
“It’s fine. No potholes, I just slid. Tia?”
“Yes, Colt?”
“Would you please stop digging your nails into my arm? That hurts worse than the twist.”
She jumped back, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.” The rain began to fall harder. “Let’s get you out of these clothes and put some ice on your ankle,” she said, sliding an arm around his waist.
Did she think she was helping? Colt groaned as her hip bumped his. He knew she was overly worried, because she’d said she was getting him out of his clothes and neither of them had leered at her words.
They stopped hobbling in the mud room, where Tia thumped the washing machine. “Your jeans are muddy.” She lifted the lid. “Put them in.”
Well, he didn’t feel like arguing. He lifted his hurt foot so she could remove his boot, which she did. He took care of the other, tossing it on a well-worn mat. Tia closed the door into the kitchen and slid the bolt.
“Now for the jeans.” Then she looked at him.
Now he leered.
“Never mind, leave them on.” She rolled her eyes. Opening the door again, she helped him to the kitchen table and put his feet on the chair opposite him. “I’ll get some ice.”
