Hearth Song

by Lois Greiman

  Not if his willpower held out, Tonk thought, and led the dancing gray to the hydrant for her post-race bath.

  Chapter 4

  “How do you like it, Vey?” Dane asked, and nodded toward a muscle car angled diagonally across two parking spots. The vehicle was as bright as the sun, as sleek as a bullet. Chrome gleamed like platinum on every fender.

  Vura scowled at it, then glanced at him. “That’s not yours.”

  “Ours,” he corrected, and grinned. “It’s ours, baby.”

  “But I thought …” She shook her head. For the past two years she’d barely been able to afford fuel for her own battered vehicle. And he hadn’t helped out much. Sure, he made a decent income, he’d said, but expenses were over the moon in the boomtown of Williston, North Dakota.

  She’d be a fool to mention that now, though … a fool to ruin his homecoming. Still, financial concerns gnawed her like a hound. “Can we afford that?”

  He gave a half shrug, amped up that grin that had once shifted her teenage hormones into overdrive. “I needed to get to work somehow, honey.”

  “I know, but …” She stopped herself. “Needed? As in past tense?”

  He drew a deep breath and caught her gaze. “I quit.”

  “You … What?”

  He laughed. “You heard me, baby.”

  “You quit?” A dozen emotions stormed through her like tornadoes. “For good?”

  His brows dipped a little. “I thought you’d be happy I was home.”

  “Yes. Of course.” She paused, nerves jangling. How long had she hoped for his return? How long had she prayed that they would be a family again? “Of course I’m happy. But I thought you couldn’t get a job around here. Wasn’t that why you left in the first place?”

  “Well, when a guy’s woman starts her own carpentry company, maybe he don’t need to work,” he said. Perhaps there was a little bite to the comment. He’d never seemed entirely comfortable with the idea of her doing manual labor, but he bumped her with his elbow and grinned, taking the sting out of the words.

  Still, she pulled away. “Dane, I’m barely paying the bills as it is. Saw Horse is just getting its feet on the ground. I can’t—”

  “I’m just kidding, honey,” he said and, reaching out, tugged her between his knees as he settled his back against the driver’s door of his sleek Dodge Viper. She could smell the beer on his breath. But she had always liked that scent. Her father had often enjoyed a Bud after work. More recently, they shared a brew and war stories from the construction zones. “But I missed you,” he said and, sliding his hands down her arms, caught her gaze with his salt-taffy eye. “I thought you missed me, too.”

  “You know I did.”

  “Then who was that clown?” he asked, and jerked a nod at some unknown point to his right.

  “What?”

  “The guy who was looking at you like they had just discovered uranium in your pants.”

  She felt a flush start at her ears. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He slipped a hand onto the curve of her hip. “And you’re all dressed up.”

  She forced a laugh. Maybe in high school she hadn’t been so self-conscious about public displays of affection, but they made her itchy now. “I’m just wearing jeans.”

  “And if they were any tighter, it’d take a three-man crew to get you out of ’em.”

  The heat spread, aiming for her throat. “I just … Maybe I’ve put on a few pounds.” She loved food. Always had. Always would.

  “Well, if you have, they’ve all settled in the right places,” he said, and nuzzled her neck. “I’m just wondering what happened to the overalls you used to be so adorable in.”

  She squirmed a little and tried to peer past his shoulder. This was her community, where she worked, where she raised her daughter. Then again … he was her husband. “I still have them.”

  “So are the jeans for the Indian chief?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She’d always known she wasn’t the kind of woman that men noticed. She couldn’t manage an updo to save her soul. Why any right-thinking women would wear a miniskirt boggled her mind, and the mere idea of high heels set an ache in her lower back that could only be relieved by a peanut buster parfait and small fries from the Dairy Queen. Still, if the truth be told, maybe she had dressed with a little more care than usual this morning.

  Guilt slipped in, melding uncomfortably with embarrassment.

  “Tonka Toy,” he said and, hooking his thumbs in her belt loops, bumped his crotch against hers. “Wasn’t that his name?”

  “Tonkiaishawien.”

  “Yeah, him,” he said, and ground his groin gently into hers.

  “He’s just a friend. Not even a friend,” she corrected. “The brother of a friend.”

  He shook his head. “You never did know when a man was interested in you. It took me six months before you so much as glanced my way.”

  “That’s not true.” The truth was, she had glanced plenty. She just hadn’t thought he’d ever glance back. It might be a cliché as old as pigskins but quarterbacks could still achieve demigod status in Middle America.

  “Until I kissed you,” he said and, leaning in, nuzzled her ear. Surprised excitement sizzled sheepishly through her sleepy system. “Let’s go home, baby.”

  “Home?” After the months of uncertainty, the lonely nights, the hours she had spent wondering what he was doing and with whom, the word sounded dreamlike coming from his lips. He hadn’t really approved when she’d suggested purchasing a small acreage. The house was abysmal, the land unkempt, he had said. But that’s what had made the price so reasonable. Low interest rates and Lily’s need for space had convinced her she was doing the right thing. But in the end he hadn’t spent more than a few days there. “To the farm?” she asked, though in these parts, twenty acres barely qualified as a lot.

  “To the farm,” he agreed and running his hand down her waist, kissed the corner of her mouth. “And the sooner the better.”

  “Okay.” Her tone was breathier than she had intended, but Dane had always been able to make her believe she was the center of the universe when he put his mind to it. And if he could also make her feel like she was a noodle-headed middle schooler again, maybe that was because she loved him. “Just let me grab Lily and I’ll be ready to go.” She twisted away, but he drew her back with a hand on her arm.

  “Lily?”

  She laughed, searching his face. “Your daughter. You do remember her, don’t you?”

  He grinned, expression hopelessly charming, and pressed his body to hers again. “It’s hard.”

  The blush spread into her hairline. An elderly couple was passing on her left. It took her a moment to recall that she had just tiled their bathroom floor two months before. Longer still to remember their names. “Hello, Frank. Sheila.” Her cheeks felt hot. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

  “Beautiful,” Sheila said.

  “Very nice,” Frank agreed, but they shifted uncomfortable glances to her husband and kept walking.

  Dane’s chuckle brought her back to the present. “Old farts should mind their own business.”

  “I have to work with these people,” she said and felt, suddenly, more like a schoolmarm than a schoolkid.

  “All I said was that it was hard”—he grinned again—“to remember anything when you’re wearing those jeans.”

  The flattery warmed her, but guilt was there, too, gumming up the works. How many times had she lied to her father to sneak out with Dane? Not that Dad had disapproved of him … exactly. “Lily’ll be so excited,” she said.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing her, too,” he said, and swept a thumb over her knuckles. “But we haven’t had any time alone in months.”

  “Well …” She squirmed sideways a little. People were watching them. She’d always been proud to be seen with him, but things had changed. She wasn’t fifteen anymore. At the end of a long day she generally felt closer
to fifty. “She goes to bed early.”

  “That’s what I was hoping to do,” Dane said and, turning her hand in his, kissed her palm. “Remember when you used to sneak out of your old man’s house to meet me? Nothing would have stopped you then.”

  She did remember, but the recollection always left a residue of guilt. Her father had trusted her. Foolishly, as it turned out. “We were just kids then.”

  “That’s what I need now, honey. To feel like a kid again.”

  “But we’re not, Dane. I’ve got a company …” She held his gaze. “Responsibilities.”

  “I’ve been working like a dog, too, Vey.” His grin amped up again. “Now I want to do other doggie-type things.”

  “Quiet,” she hissed and tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip on her hand.

  “I meant we could maybe howl at the moon together.” He swung her arm between them. “What did you think I was talking about?”

  She rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the swift kick of arousal that snapped low in her gut. But Dane had always been an expert at making it possible to ignore everything but him.

  “You know what they say, honey? You can’t have a happy family if you don’t have a happy marriage.”

  He had a point, of course. “Well, I guess …” He slipped his hand onto her hip, caressing softly. “Maybe Lil could stay at Gray Horse tonight.”

  “Gray Horse?” he asked, and glanced to the right.

  “Gray Horse Sanctuary.” She followed his gaze, saw no one she recognized and felt light-headed with relief. “Sydney’s ranch. I renovated the house there. Built fences. Remember?”

  He laughed and returned his attention to her. “I told you I can’t remember much when you’re in them jeans.” He bumped his forehead against hers. “Or out of ’em.”

  She glanced sideways again and felt her breath stop in her throat. “What’s she doing here?”

  He kept his attention riveted on her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Sherri. I think her name was Sherri,” she said, and pulled her attention from the woman to Dane.

  He glanced dismissively to the right, refocused on her. “So?”

  “She was out West, too, I guess. In Williston.”

  “Well …” He chuckled. “The town’s doubled in size in the last couple of years. I think there might be a few thousand other people I don’t know, too.”

  “Why’s she staring at us?”

  “Probably because you’re so dang sexy.”

  She opened her mouth for another question, but he spoke first.

  “Hey!” He leaned back, eyes alight. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

  “No. I just … ”

  “You are,” he argued and tossing his head back, laughed out loud. “You’re jealous.”

  “I’m not. I just—”

  “Man, that turns me on.”

  She scowled. “You’re sure you don’t know her?”

  “You think I’d lie?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  He nodded, squeezed her hands. “Go on then,” he said, and released her. “Go find a place for Lily.”

  “Don’t you want to say hi at least?”

  “Not without her gifts.”

  Something shifted in her chest, like the lightening of a burden. “You brought her gifts?”

  “You didn’t think I’d show up empty-handed, did you? But you’ll just have to wait to see what they are.” He grinned. “Hurry up now. Before I do something that’ll embarrass you even more.”

  “Okay,” she agreed and tugging free, turned away. She glanced back once, but he was already striding through the crowd with that signature swagger that had made a hundred schoolgirls sigh not so many years before. Or had a lifetime passed?

  Dragging her mind back to the present, Vura searched for the Warriors’ horse trailer and found it finally near the bucking chutes.

  “Mama!” Lily was perched atop Tonk’s broad-backed pinto when they saw each other. “Swift Arrow talked to me.”

  “Did he?”

  She nodded, pointed chin bobbing rapid-fire as she pressed a palm to the gelding’s winter-fuzzed shoulder. “He said he loves to run.”

  “Did he?”

  “But he needs a little time to rest because his right hind leg is sore.”

  She glanced at Hunter, who shrugged. “He does seem a little off. But maybe if Tiger Lily brushes him, he’ll feel better.”

  Lily stroked the gelding’s parti-colored mane, eyes bright as moons. “Can I, Mama?”

  Warmth flooded Vura like a spring tide. Strange, how just the sight of her daughter’s impish face made the world right. Strange, how even though they spent the majority of their time together, it was nearly impossible to let her go. Still, she smiled and shifted her attention to Hunter. “As a matter of fact, I was wondering if maybe she could go back to Gray Horse with you.”

  “The Lily is always welcome with us.” Though Hunter’s words were absolutely gracious, and unquestionably sincere, surprise shone in his eyes.

  “I wouldn’t ask, but …” Off to her left, Tonk was approaching with the gray mare. Her coat shone steel blue from her recent bath. “I just …” She winced, feeling guilty, though she could not, under threat of diets, have explained why. “I have some things I need to take care of.”

  “She can stay as long as you wish.”

  “Work-related …” she added and pulled her gaze from the man with the gray. Tonk’s torso remained bare. Lean, dark-skinned muscle rippled above his leather breeches. She pursed her lips. Maybe Sydney’s mustangs could spare enough of the winnings to buy him a new shirt. “Work-related things,” she added and didn’t bother to question why his state of undress concerned her.

  Still, she could feel his gaze on her face and cleared her throat. “Is that all right with you, Lil?” she asked, and lifted her attention to her daughter’s gamine features. A streak of mud highlighted her left cheek, but it would have been far more surprising if it had been clean.

  “I get to stay with the horses?” she asked.

  Hunter shrugged. “We humans are but a bothersome side note.”

  Vura shuffled her feet and kept her gaze from straying toward Tonk. “Would you mind keeping her overnight?”

  “What’s this?” Sydney asked, rounding the trailer to join them.

  “The Lily will be staying with us for a time,” Hunter said.

  “Fantastic!” Sydney handed Lily a feather she’d retrieved from some unknown source. There had been a time when she’d seemed as cold as an arctic blast. But those days were long past, well before she had come to believe she could share a mother with someone as patently unsophisticated as Bravura Lambert. “We’ll put her to work mucking stalls and scrubbing buckets.”

  “She’s never going to want to come home,” Vura joked and wondered with a peck of petty concern if it might be true.

  “How long will she be with us?” Sydney asked.

  “Well, I just … I have so much work to do.” Her face felt as hot as a blowtorch. Tonk’s attention felt even hotter, intensified by the lie. But she had no wish to tell her daughter that her father had returned. Not until they could spend time together. Could have a real family reunion. “It’d be great if I could pick her up in the morning.”

  “Oh man,” Sydney said, and placed a hand on her fiancé’s massive arm. “Hunt’ll be in heaven.”

  Vura lifted her gaze to her daughter’s. “Is that all right with you, Lily Belle?”

  “Can I sleep in the barn with Arrow?” Her eyes were as round as agates.

  Vura forced a laugh; she could count on one hand the number of times that she had left Lily overnight. “I’m going to leave that up to you guys,” she said, glancing at Hunter before turning back to Lily. “You be good for them, okay?”

  She nodded emphatically. “I’ll scrub all the buckets twice.”

  “Well, give me a kiss first,” Vura said.

  Lily bent down, seeming blissfully imper
vious to the fact that she was perched five feet above the ground on an animal that could accelerate faster than a Ferrari.

  Vura, on the other hand, couldn’t quite seem to forget that the child could injure herself on a paper clip.

  Chapter 5

  Bravura opened the passenger door and slid onto the warm leather of her husband’s newly purchased vehicle. The engine growled like a cheetah.

  Dane waggled his brows at her. “Sweet ride, huh?”

  “Yeah. Sweet.” She cleared her throat, then tried and failed to curtail the next question. “What did it cost?” Connubial instincts suggested she enjoy the moment, go with the flow, but she was one mortgage payment from collecting ketchup packages from her local McDonald’s. And though there was a hint of lingering cigarette smoke embedded in the plush ceiling fabric, the Viper still boasted that new car smell.

  “I’m not going to lie to you; these babies don’t come cheap, but nothing’s too good for my girl,” Dane said, and backed across the grassy area that served as a parking lot.

  As they turned onto Clay Street, Vura tried to find that carefree attitude they had once shared. But she was a mother now, a businesswoman, an employer and … dammit, how many times could she patch Lily’s winter jacket before it fell apart like soggy shredded wheat? “How much?” she asked again.

  “How much do I want you?” he asked, and shifted into third. The Viper fishtailed a little, spewing gravel as he slipped his hand onto her thigh. “Like crazy.” His gaze was hot on her face. “Remember when I had old Jimmy? We got our money out of that thing, didn’t we?” He slid his fingers along her thigh, smoothing them inward. Heat followed his fingertips. “And hey, the backseat in this thing is bigger than you’d think.”

  She resisted squirming, though honestly, she’d been living like a cloistered nun for most of her married life.

  “Wanna try it out?” he asked, and traced his index finger over the center crease of her jeans.

  She managed to shake her head. “It’s just a few miles to the farm.”

  He shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat. “I’m just glad the Vipe’s insured against fire damage.”