Wildflower Redemption

by Leslie P. García

  “I can understand that,” she assured him, pressing the back of one his hands to her cheek. “You wouldn’t know the woman I was in Atlanta. And Brian only cheated—he wasn’t taken away from me by some madman. But Aaron, it’s okay. I can understand you not being over a woman like Stella—”

  He snorted and freed her hands, but she clung to the one she held. “A woman like Stella? A woman who cheated every time I left town? A woman who led a local BDSM club?”

  He heard her gasp and laughed bitterly.

  “Yeah. The shooter? Someone who had a falling out with her.”

  He stood and walked toward the door, spun on his heel, and came back to practically throw himself on the far side of the couch.

  “The cops tried to protect her at first. The media played up the hero thing—but someone started whispering. Alabaster’s huge compared to Rose Creek, but it’s just a small, southern town too, really. Someone saw that Chloe was her daughter—human emotion angle at first. ‘Mother saves own daughter from school shooter.’”

  “But then people started remembering that they’d seen her out. She’d ask for day shifts or take leave when I was out of town to meet with her friends. I knew we were having problems, but I just thought she hated how often I traveled. Yeah, right.” Bitterness laced his words. “Wanted me gone more often, more likely. Then some pictures got out—and dumbass that I was, I’d never even had a clue. My hero wife!”

  Tears rolled down Luz’s cheeks. She didn’t even try to stop them. How much hurt did anyone deserve? She’d thought losing his wife had been as bad as it could get, but his pain and anger cut like a knife.

  “Those last visits I made? Investigators, trying to be sure I truly didn’t know what Stella was into. Guess most husbands would have, right?” He shrugged. “We had Chloe, money—I thought we had everything.”

  “You loved her,” Luz whispered.

  He stared at her for a long moment. “Not by the time she died,” he said eventually. “As hard as I thought I had tried, I’d just grown…empty…where she was concerned.” He stood again, and massaged the back of his neck. “She asked for a divorce the night before she died. But even then I thought—I kept thinking—that if I just got my act together, I could fix everything. I told my company I needed to quit traveling. I told Stella I’d do anything—anything—for her. Because I wanted Chloe to have a real family. But Stella laughed and said there was nothing else to be said.”

  “Was she always so…I don’t know what the word is.”

  “Wild? Free? Those were the ones she used a lot.” He stared at the painting on the wall, but she knew he didn’t see it.

  “She was, I guess. In college—that’s where we met—I didn’t mind. We’d do whatever she wanted, go where she said, and try anything she wanted in bed. She took me to meet her folks once and picked up two hitchhikers on the way. They slipped off with some of her folks’ stuff. Things like that should have been a warning, but I’d never met anyone like her. I never wanted to go back to the monotony of my life.”

  “But you changed your mind?”

  “When she told me her parents told her never to go back. She took criminal justice classes, got her degree, got pregnant—I thought we should settle down.”

  “Did she want Chloe?”

  He smiled. “Yeah. We were in complete agreement on wanting our baby girl.” The smile slipped again, though. “And then—the rest. And I wound up knowing my wife was responsible for the death of a child, and the injury of others.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “And that I did nothing to stop her.”

  “No!” Luz jumped up, fists clenching, furious. “How can you blame yourself—”

  “I didn’t see. I should have been able to. She told me often enough I’d lost my edge.” He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, and then slowly stood to face Luz. “She told me I bored her. That I wasn’t man enough to satisfy her.”

  The words she wanted to say lodged in her throat. Words meant nothing anyway. She reached out, caught his hand, and urged him close.

  “Come back to bed,” she whispered. “We don’t need any more sadness tonight.”

  “But it’s what’s true,” he muttered. “Truth—”

  “Can wait. Tonight, it can.”

  He started to argue, but she pressed a gentle kiss against his mouth and shook her head.

  “The bedroom door locks. We’ll lock the door, and nothing else will get in.” She tugged his hand gently, glancing at him. “Not even the truth.”

  He pressed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, managed a smile. “I’m all yours.”

  She doubted that was true, either, but for the rest of the night, she knew that would be enough.

  Chapter Twenty

  By the time Luz managed to drag herself away from Aaron and back to the reality of mouths to feed and chores to do, Ann was already checking on the mare. Luz couldn’t quit smiling. Thinking of Aaron grumbling about not being able to touch the stove because she didn’t trust his cooking made her smile. The cool air that closed in around her, still more dark than light, made her smile. Ann’s raised eyebrows and the absence of a sarcastic greeting almost made her laugh.

  “So, how is she?” Luz prompted, when the vet refused to speak first.

  “Much better,” Ann replied professionally, then grinned. “As you seem to be.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” Luz’s nonchalance dissolved in laughter. “Fine, fine, fine.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Somehow I thought I’d earned more than that,” Luz said, reaching in to pet the mare. Ann had given her hay and water, though, and the mare ignored Ann and Luz in favor of her food. “I’m delighted. Just—”

  “Don’t you dare tell me you’re worried! You practically pushed me into his arms a few weeks ago when he drove into town.”

  “I’m worried,” Ann continued, as if Luz hadn’t spoken. “He may not even stay, Luz.”

  “I survived a monster like Brian who gave me a baby two days after our wedding and spent the next four years screwing anything in a skirt, including Lily’s mother. I survived having my little girl rushed to the hospital and almost dying, and Brian helping end my career! There is nothing—nothing—I can’t survive now.”

  “Not even Aaron leaving?” Ann asked gently.

  “Especially not that. No man has the power to destroy me, Ann. Not anymore.”

  “Yeah, you told me that.” She sighed, and glanced a final time at the mare. “Just remember that if it ever comes up again.” She picked up her bag, kissed Luz’s cheek, and left.

  • • •

  Her mom and dad had instilled old time values in her. She knew there was heaven and hell—she just really hoped she wasn’t being blasphemous to decide she’d gotten to heaven a little early.

  “You know,” Aaron told her one morning, propped up on her pillows and cuddling her against his chest, “some people don’t spend their mornings like this.”

  She ran a hand over his chest, and then further down, smiling lazily when he stiffened and fished her hand out.

  “Behave! I’m serious! Because after most people send their children to school, they actually get dressed and do stuff.”

  “Most people probably get dressed before they send their kids to school. I don’t want to behave or be serious—and we do stuff,” she protested, kissing the taut skin of his stomach.

  “We should get jobs. You run a shelter. I’ll manage it and look for some freelance stuff. We have to set a good example.”

  She kissed his chest.

  “We do. You go home every night.”

  “And it’s hard. But I’m serious.”

  She scooted up and kissed him and he buried his hands in her hair, kissing her back.

  Then he held her away.

  “Teach me to ride, Luz.”

  “Okay.” She leaned over and kissed his shoulder. “I can do that.”

  “I’m serious.”

  She grinned and pushed his hands away so that she could
kiss him again. “So am I. We can start anytime you want.”

  • • •

  A few days later, Luz rode along the shoulder of the road. Occasionally, she looked back to see if Aaron was there. He was, and if the long ride made him uncomfortable, he didn’t show it, just gave her one of his teasing smiles.

  “You put me on Cherokee here out of pure meanness,” he called, and tried to push the old chestnut gelding into a faster trot. Figured you’d bring me out here and lose me by just trotting off into the sunset and laughing at us for not keeping up!”

  She smiled. The chestnut was slow, but he was steady. Aaron didn’t need a fall—he was doing so well. She was riding one of the horses her mother had taken in for some bargain basement price—a flashy pinto that tended to shy a lot, but wasn’t too difficult to stay on. Her mother had accumulated six horses—people who couldn’t take care of them any longer would practically give them away rather than allow them to be put down or sold to strangers. The smile slipped as she wondered again about what connection her mother and Ross had shared.

  “Feeling guilty?” Aaron asked, finally drawing closer to her.

  “No, just nostalgic. Remembering my mom.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about her since I moved to Rose Creek. Wish I could have known your folks.” He smiled at her. “They’d have liked me.”

  They would have. They’d even tried to like Brian, for her sake.

  Shadows of the past suddenly chilled her. “We should go back.”

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and the little pinto danced away.

  “Cut it out!” She frowned at him, pretending to be irritated. “I don’t even make out in cars!”

  “I wouldn’t know.” He grinned. “Every time I get you in a car you’re unconscious or covered in dirt and blood from saving the world.”

  He straightened in his saddle and looked around, suddenly recognizing where they were. “I didn’t think we’d ridden so long—isn’t this Clark’s place?”

  She nodded grimly. “Yeah. And I really hadn’t thought about it, but if you kept on down this road and took the cut-off with a cattle guard—you’d find Ross Thurmond’s place.”

  He reined his horse around. “Thanks, but no thanks. No need to find him.”

  “Nope, none at all,” she agreed. “Wanna race?”

  He laughed. “I’d throw something at you, but I don’t have anything handy. This horse couldn’t outrun his shadow.”

  • • •

  Chloe didn’t have school on Valentine’s Day. She shared the news with a great deal of jubilation while helping Luz decorate sugar cookies to take to school.

  “We have the party tomorrow, but it’s really Friday,” she complained. “They shouldn’t change holidays, right?”

  “Well, we can complain about the party,” her father offered, swiping a cookie and getting swatted by Luz and Chloe at the same time. “Maybe we can make the school cancel any party that isn’t on the actual holiday.”

  “No, it’s okay.” Chloe poured red sprinkles on a heart and frowned at the window. The weather had turned blustery, and she hadn’t been allowed to ride. “But this weather sucks.”

  “Chloe!”

  “What?” She turned innocent eyes on her dad. “What did I say?”

  “Don’t sweat the small stuff,” Luz suggested with a grin. “The good news is your daughter has a party tomorrow and then she’ll be home on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday!”

  “True,” Aaron agreed. “And she’ll probably be here all three days riding in freezing rain.”

  “Luz—”

  “Yes, Chloe?”

  Chloe licked her lips, apparently worried about something.

  “Do you still miss Princess?” she asked softly. “Do you remember her?”

  Luz set the pan of finished cookies down and went around the table to hug Chloe. “Yes, I do miss her. And I won’t ever forget her.”

  “You didn’t have her very long.”

  “No.” She searched for the right words, sensing Chloe wasn’t just wondering about Princess. “Love doesn’t take very long, if it’s real.”

  Across the table, Aaron’s eyes were unreadable.

  Chloe nodded. “I guess.” She moved some of the sprinkles around, finally choosing a bottle of blue. “Do you think she’s still alive?” she asked so softly that her words could hardly be heard.

  “I hope she is,” Luz answered truthfully. “I tell myself that she is.”

  “Even if you never see her?”

  “Even if.”

  Chloe sighed, and picked up a cookie. “Can I eat this blue one? It’s broken.”

  The cookie looked fine, but Chloe’s face still looked troubled, and Aaron’s face had settled into the old lines of hurt.

  “Sure, we have plenty.” Luz gathered a couple of cookies together, put them on a plate, and handed them to Chloe. “Go take a cookie break,” she suggested. I need to bake this batch before we decorate any more.”

  Chloe nodded and left without comment.

  “You’re good with kids,” Aaron murmured.

  “I don’t feel good with her—or you.” She rounded the table and hugged him. “I feel that you all deserve to be free of the pain.”

  “We’re better.”

  She rested her forehead against his arm for a moment. “I hope so. Aaron, don’t you think we should talk to Chloe about us?

  “She knows, sort of. I mean, I told her that you and I were dating, and that I’m pretty much always here until she gets out of school.” He shot her a teasing grin. “I don’t give her a lot of details about all of our hard work, though.”

  She returned his smile, but straightened abruptly, as an idea occurred. “Spring break is only a few weeks away! You know what you should do?”

  “I’m afraid to ask,” he grumbled, pressing a kiss on her forehead as if she were as childish as Chloe.

  “Take Chloe to see the wildflowers! Drive north and through the Hill Country…”

  He blanched. “Never mention spring flowers—wildflowers—to me. Never!”

  “But—”

  He shot a glance at the door, and then looked down at her. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. But the last thing I remember from that day was blood on the daffodils. I—I can’t—I’ll be back.”

  He stalked out of the room, and she heard him talking softly to Chloe in the living room.

  Feeling their pain in her soul, she went back to baking cookies.

  • • •

  Luz turned her idea over in her head again. She loved the idea, but would she be forcing Aaron’s hand?

  He came in from the living room, and looked at the trays of cookies.

  “Those things are good,” he hinted, and she waved. “I need twenty-four, plus some for the teachers and staff. As long as you don’t go crazy, dig in.” She looked at the door to the living room.

  “Where’s Chloe?”

  “She drifted off.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. “Is she okay?”

  “Just tired. Someone had her baking cookies all afternoon.” He cocked his head as a hard rattling sound began.

  “Sleet?”

  “Or hail. Either way, it’s really blasting us.”

  He grinned. “So…how do you feel about a sleepover?”

  “Does Chloe need a blanket or pillow?”

  “You think I don’t remember where they were when we needed them?”

  The memory of the bath sheet he’d worn while he was waiting for his jeans made her smile.

  He laughed. “You were hoping it would fall off, weren’t you?”

  She chuckled, too. “Desperately.” She gave in to temptation and picked up one of the cookies. “Aaron, I had an idea, but…”

  “About?”

  “A Valentine present for Chloe.”

  “Figured I’d go into San Antonio tomorrow while she’s at school,” he said, finishing another cookie and resolutely moving away from the table. “I hope she’ll be able to go tomorro
w and not miss her party. Why?”

  “Would you like Rumbles to be her present from both of us?” She held her breath after she asked, still afraid he’d think her offer was somehow too much, too binding.

  “Wow!” he said softly. “That would sure beat a stuffed bear. But—”

  “No strings. No promises,” Luz added. “If you ever leave, you’d be free to take her.”

  “A pony, though? You’ve put so much time and money into your Mom’s horses.”

  “It really wouldn’t be different than it is now. She’d come ride, but she could call Rumbles hers.”

  He walked over and kissed her. “You know, leaving sounds harder all the time.” He kissed her again before retreating to lean against the counter. “You look worried. About the leaving part, or the sleepover?”

  “Both,” she admitted, and he chuckled.

  “Smart girl!”

  • • •

  Aaron had given her flowers for Valentine’s Day. Luz smiled as she fingered one of the roses mixed in with spring flowers. There were no daffodils, no yellow flowers at all, but the fact that he’d given her flowers must mean he was able to deal better with his memories of that awful day. The irises in the arrangement were almost the color of the bluebonnets that would soon take over fields, yielding eventually to paintbrush, changing the Texas landscape from vibrant blue to flaming red. Maybe by the height of the wildflower season, he’d be willing to take Chloe to see all the spectacular color.

  The bouquet was holding up spectacularly. It had been almost two weeks, and not a seriously wilted flower in the bunch. She wondered if the flowers would start to fade now that the weather had finally climbed out of the sixties, unseasonably cool for this part of Texas going into March.

  Residents in Rose Creek were fond of going around mumbling, “Febrero loco y marzo otro poco,” whether or not they spoke Spanish. The saying was, loosely, “February’s crazy and March is crazier.” She knew it was true—she’d seen the drastic changes within a single day for much of her life.

  Now the only change seemed to be the emptiness in the house. In spite of the bright sunshine pouring in, Aaron and Chloe had gone into San Antonio yesterday and wouldn’t be back until Friday. After deciding definitively that he’d never allow Esmeralda to counsel his daughter again, Aaron had unexpectedly gotten an appointment with a new counselor he thought might help Chloe.