“Anniversary.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. He put a big bow on it. And when Cara’s mommy was gone to get her and her brothers from school, he brought it to their house. When they arrived home, she saw it. Cara’s mommy cried.”
“Did they do all of that in front of you?” I remember my mom looking so pissed, and I was scared that I’d said something wrong.
“No. Cara just told me about it. It happened a few days before me.”
“They’ve always been such show-offs. Good god, she probably told Cara to tell you the story just so I’d hear about it. She’s always bragging.”
I was never allowed to go over to Cara’s after that, and eventually Cara stopped being my friend. I shook my head to try to shake away the sad memory. Was I like that? Was I jealous of what other people had? Yes, I was. I was jealous of my own sister. I mean, what kind of person couldn’t even be happy for her own sister? Would I start to resent her and the baby? Oh my god, what if I resented my own kids?
Our mom had named us after places she loved, places she dreamed about, but somewhere along the way we had become a constant reminder of what she didn’t have: a life of adventure and travels.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
I blinked and looked away from the baby, who had been smacking her tiny pink lips in her sleep, only to find that both London and Holland were looking at me with curiosity.
Had I missed something?
Braden cleared his throat and held the camera up a bit.
Oh, right.
“Crap. You all are waiting on me, sorry.” I curled up next to London, one arm draped over the top of her head and the other placed carefully on Tera, and I smiled as Braden snapped the photo of the next generation of Kelly women. When I stood, London held on to my arm.
“What’s on your mind?”
I couldn’t discuss this with her. I couldn’t tell her that I was jealous of her and worried that I might be more like Cora than any of us would like to admit. So, I went with the obvious. “I’m just thinking about how much I miss Dad. I wish he could have been here. He’d have been the world’s greatest Gramps.”
“Holy cow, our little Tera would want for nothing if Daddy were still around.” Holland held on to the baby’s hand.
“I think Braden’s dad is going to help fill that void.” London smiled up at her husband.
“Oh crap.” I jumped up and moved toward Braden. “Give me that camera, let me get some pictures of the three of you.” I waited for Braden as he placed his palm over London’s, and together they held Tera’s tiny fist in their joined hands, a sign of unity and protection, and then I snapped the photo.
Braden moved to lay alongside London, one strong arm across her as he looked down at his wife and daughter.
“Look at the little family,” Holland said as Braden bent to kiss London’s forehead. “Y’all are so perfect.” Did she know she was crushing my heart? “Tera, you have the world’s greatest mom.” Each comment sliced through what felt like already open flesh, but I hid it all behind the snapping of the camera’s shutter.
A few dozen pictures later, I handed the camera to Holland and mustered up a small smile. “I’m going to text Asher and Marcus, I’m sure they’re dying for news. Then I’ll have some food ready soon.” I strolled out of the room and pulled out my phone. Finding Asher’s name, I sent a message to him and his brother, Marcus.
* * *
Me: Mom and baby are fine. Tera Kelly was born at 4:32
I slid the phone back into my pocket and headed to the kitchen, wanting nothing more than to get lost in the act of cooking.
The kitchen had always been my safe haven, and the cool yellow tones on the walls with tiny strawberries painted along the top gave it a homey feel. Well, it always made me feel at home, my sisters not so much. They’d rather be anywhere but in the kitchen unless, of course, I was calling them to eat.
“Shit.” The oatmeal chocolate chip cookie flew across the kitchen as I flung the spatula in the air, scared to death. I turned to see who or what had just poked me, but no one was there, so I spun the other way.
Asher.
The man had a cookie in his mouth and three in his hand already.
“Busted. Put those down, mister. No cookies for you.” I waved the spatula and barked the command, similar to the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld. “How in the hell am I going to make enough if people keep snagging them?”
“It’s totally your fault. You told me I was welcome to help myself. Besides, you make the best damn cookies.” Asher finished the first cookie completely unrepentantly. “You and I both know that, if I search this kitchen, I would find another jar of cookies hidden. You keep this one out because you want everyone to come by. But you would never want to run out, since your sisters love them, and you are a people pleaser. I know you too well, Paris Jean Kelly. Admit it, you have another jar hidden, don’t you?”
I locked eyes with Asher; his blue eyes were so light, I used to think I could look straight into his head and see exactly what he was thinking. That was, of course, until I learned I was wrong, it wasn’t his eyes that gave him away—it was his mouth. He couldn’t control his smile. The slight quiver meant he was making fun of me.
“No, I do not.” I was happy to prove him wrong.
“You don’t?” Asher’s smile fell.
“Nope. See, you don’t know everything, Asher Kinkaide.” I turned my head and placed a hand over my mouth to cover my smile. “I have two hidden.”
“Ahh, you brat.”
I giggled. Asher always could make me smile, even when I was seriously beating myself up.
He reached behind me and grabbed another cookie. “How’s Braden holding up?”
“As well as we could hope after having to watch London in labor for so long. Every time one of his girls makes a noise, he freaks. He doesn’t want London to strain herself, he’s flipping through every how-to book for new fathers, and he’s checking Tera every five minutes just to make sure she’s breathing.”
“Besides how-to books, is there anything else they need?”
“No, Braden has been planning for this day forever. He has put every childproof cover on everything and locks on every damn cabinet. I swear to god, I’m going to murder him. I can’t even figure out some of these damn contraptions.”
“What about London?”
“Oh, don’t worry about her. Braden is waiting on her hand and foot. I’m surprised he isn’t following her to the bathroom to wipe her ass.”
“Gross.” Asher shook his head. “How about the baby? Do they need anything for her? My mom made her several blankets; you know how she still loves to knit. I’ll bring them over later.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Tell her thank you. But remember, this is Braden, the man with his own library of parenting magazines, you realize that, right? He had wanted London for a long time, and now that he’s finally got his dream woman, believe me, having a baby with her only made him that much more whipped. There is nothing they need. He’s been buying constantly, I think as a way to prove he is worthy or something, I don’t know. Anyway, for the last nine months boxes have been arriving from Children’s Place, Amazon, Babies R Us, you name it. I asked him if he was saving all of the packing peanuts as well.”
“Why?”
“So he could wrap the baby in them. He was acting so protective over London while she was pregnant that I could only imagine how he’d be with Tera.”
“He isn’t going to allow her to date until she’s forty, is he?”
I smiled at that thought. My dad used to say we couldn’t date until we were forty either. “Really? You think he’ll let her date then?”
Asher bumped my shoulder. “How about you? How you holding up?”
“Right as rain. You know me.”
“Yep, and that’s why I’m asking. You are my soft soul.” Asher wrapped one arm around me and squeezed.
God, I loved when he did it, because I felt so safe and protect
ed. Asher and I had been friends since . . . well, since we came home from the hospital. Our friendship was the most valuable thing I owned. I’d do anything to protect it. Often times, I wondered if I’d ever find this same feeling with a guy who I burned passionately for, someone other than my best friend, someone who loved me and wanted to have a family with me.
I may be starting to think I was like her, but at least I could learn from her mistake and not mix love and friendship. Though, if I were ever going to do it, I would cross that line with Asher.
“I wish Daddy were here. He probably wouldn’t be shocked to know it was a girl, since it seems the Kelly ranch is destined to be all girls.”
“I miss him too, but he’s here, he sees her, I’m sure.” Asher pulled me in a little tighter. “You know, he was always good to Marcus and me. And after my dad died, he’d call and check in on us to see if we had ‘guy stuff’ to discuss.”
I fought back my laugh. I loved how Asher could bring me out of my pity party. “Yeah, London and I overheard him and Wally talking one day. London threatened to tell Daddy I had tried cigarettes if I ever told you I overheard what they talked to you about. Even though he smoked like a chimney, I knew he’d bust my ass, since we were not allowed to hang around the corral area. I guess that’s where all of them went to talk about things not appropriate for little ears.” The memory warmed me inside.
“What did you overhear?” Asher leaned back, mirth crinkling in the corners of his eyes.
“He and Wally were talking about how old you and Marcus were. It was right when Marcus started driving. He figured that someone needed to talk to you boys about sex. London had to explain to me what that was.”
Asher cracked up laughing. “I remember that conversation. I’m not sure if your dad was more uncomfortable or if I was. But he took Marcus and I out fishing and handed us each a beer.” Asher’s eyes were brighter than I’d seen in a long time as he remembered the event.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, but they were those non-alcoholic ones, and they tasted like piss water. Anyway, he stuttered so many times before Marcus finally came clean and explained that he’d already had the talk with me. I think your dad was relieved.”
I smiled. Asher is probably talking about the same look my dad had on his face when he explained periods to London and me. He never liked discussing personal stuff, so when it came time to tell Holland, London and I took pity on him and did it for him.
Asher and I were silent for a few minutes before he placed a quick kiss on the top of my head. “What else is on your mind?” His words were warm against my scalp.
“Nothing.”
“Something is, I can see it written all across your face. Don’t worry about me, you know you can talk to me about anything. I’m always here for you.”
“I know. You’re my best friend, and I appreciate you.” I let out a forced laugh. “Just do me a favor, okay?”
“Anything.”
“Whenever you find the one, please make sure she lets us still be friends.”
“Yeah, okay.” Asher’s words were curt as he pulled his arm back. It wasn’t exactly the response I expected, but I let it slide as I watched him retreat out the back door.
I was still staring after him, wondering what I’d said, when the buzzer on the oven went off, and then I was back to work, pulling out more fresh cookies.
Asher
Paris lifted the curry brush high above her head, and my mind was instantly in the gutter. Like I’d fantasized a million times since I was a teenager and had seen my first B-rated porno, I expected her to thrash her hair around, and then the brush to miraculously turn into a sponge. At which point, she’d then rub it over the front of her body and allow the water to trickle down the front of her shirt, giving me a good view of her breasts. Because let’s face it, if I was dreaming, I was going the whole way, the hot car wash, sunshine cascading down.
“Asher, you’re here.”
Fuck. Trying to get my mind anywhere other than where it had just been, I paused to give my erection a few seconds to go down. “Yep. Sorry it’s so early.”
“I’m just grateful you came. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
I opened the door to the stall and moved next to Ursula. The smooth palomino coat of the mare felt like velvet as I ran my fingers along her back hock. I had a special bond with Ursula, after all, she was Paris’s horse, and as soon as she’d told me that Ursula was limping, she became a priority.
“What do you think?” Paris held her arms tight around her body, rocking with worry.
“It’s swollen but doesn’t feel as if she’s dislocated anything. I’m going to take an X-ray just to be sure.” I stopped next to Paris and stared into her gorgeous eyes. I’d been hypnotized by them for most of my life. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry. You know that I’ll do whatever I can for Ursula.”
“That’s because you’re a good doctor.”
“That’s because she’s your horse and you love her.” I headed off to my truck without saying another word and grabbed my portable X-ray unit. The thing was old, and I knew there were more compact versions that weren’t so cumbersome, but this one was paid for. And as a new veterinarian who had his eye on starting a family, I was watching my finances.
When I returned to the stables, Paris was cooing to her horse, and Ursula was leaning into her, soaking up the peace and love that Paris offered. I was frozen, mesmerized by this woman who I was in love with; she was everything I’d ever wanted. I just needed to take that step forward and tell her.
Paris held Ursula while I quickly positioned the machine and snapped the photo. We waited while the film developed and were pleased with the results. As I had expected, it was a sprain. After carefully wrapping the joint, I reloaded my truck and then sat on the tailgate.
“How’s everything in the house going? Tera keeping you awake?”
“No, she’s a really good baby.” Paris came over and hopped up next to me.
It was just after seven in the morning, and already the air felt like a sauna. It was heavy and humid. Paris reached up to wipe her brow and then leaned over and rested her head on my shoulder.
“I’m going to hate when they move back to their house. Everything seems so alive right now, someone is always coming or going. When it’s just Holland and me, the place felt like a mortuary. Everything reminds me of my dad. Besides, Holland is never here, she sleeps and eats in the house, but that’s about it.”
“You could always start your own family.” The words slid out of my mouth, and before I could take them back, the rightness of them seemed to take hold, so I left them there, just floating in the air. But Paris didn’t even acknowledge me.
She swung her legs, her head resting on my shoulder. Reaching up, I cupped her face in my hand and held her there in the crook of my shoulder. Everything felt so right about this moment.
“After Dad died, people kept saying, ‘Give it time. Time heals all wounds,’ but you know what?”
“What?” My voice was more of a whisper.
“They were wrong. Time doesn’t heal. It only changes how you feel. I still miss him every day, but instead of hurting because he’s gone, I’m filled with memories of happy times. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, total sense.” She had no clue how apropos her statement truly was, time changed how we felt. For me, it intensified my love for her.
Paris swayed to the rhythm of her legs swinging back and forth. "Do you remember when we’d stay up late and watch old Elvis Presley movies with your mom?”
“Yeah.” I chuckled, just thinking about the memories and how I thought Elvis was so stupid, wasting time with girls instead of surfing in Hawaii.
My heart skipped when she sang the first few notes of a song that she used to sing when we were kids. It had been from one of the movies.
“Which movie was that from?”
Paris sat up and fei
gned offense. “How dare you forget. It’s from Bye Bye Birdie, the movie based on Elvis getting drafted into the Army… I love you, Asher, oh yes I dooooo.” Her words were soft, but each one warmed me and reminded me that this was us, this comfort. We’d been like this since we were toddlers…comfortable with each other. “I love you, Asher, and I’ll be true. When I’m not with you, I’m blue. Oh Asher, I love you.” She finished the original part of the ditty, and just like always, being a boy and not wanting to end on mushiness, I added my line.
“Cha cha cha.” It was the same line my dad used to say.
“Don’t ever leave me, Asher. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Not going anywhere, kitten.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. Well . . .”
“See? You’re already being fickle.” Paris had a hint of mischief in her voice.
“I have to get to work. I swung by here before the start of my day, but I need to make money if you expect me to stay around and take care of you.”
“Oh, well, when you say it that way, I guess you can leave for a little while.”
I jumped down, then helped Paris off the tailgate before closing up. Leaning forward, I placed a kiss on the top of her head and watched as she headed toward the house. Then, getting into my truck, I headed to my official first appointment of the day.
By late afternoon, I was at the home of my second dog of the day, Captain, a thirteen-year-old Great Pyrenees that weighed almost one hundred forty pounds. I knelt in the barn and examined him. He was clearly in pain because of the moderate hip dysplasia, which wasn’t all that uncommon in dogs his size. Truth be told, thirteen years old was ancient for his breed.
But he was all the owner had, so I did what I could and gave him a shot of an anti-inflammatory into his hips and piggybacked it with painkillers.
“Thank you so much for coming out, Asher.” Mr. Howard extended a hand, which I shook.
“Here’s some Rimadyl. Remember, it’s easier to maintain the pain than to play catch-up. So, set a timer on your phone if you have to, but try to give this to him every six hours. If he’s still having problems, you know you can call me anytime, no matter the hour.”
Slow Burn: Iron Horse Series Page 2
