Rugged Hearts

by Amanda McIntyre

  “I’ve been at the ranch since I was about twelve.” He answered Aimee’s question despite his discomfiture with the crowded room.

  “I heard you don’t get into town much.” She sent him a shy smile and raised the cup to her lips. “Where’d you live the first twelve years?”

  Wyatt toyed with the handle of his coffee mug, wondering where she’d heard talk about him. “A lot of places. We moved around a number of times before we came here.”

  “Yeah?” She took a sip. A long stretch of silence followed.

  His hat and coat hung on an iron hook set up between the booths. He now wished he’d left it on. It would have made leaving so much easier. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, curious to know what other gossip she might have heard. “So why don’t you tell me what you’ve heard about me, first, and we’ll go from there.” He crossed his arms and leaned forward on the table, pinning her with a steady gaze. God almighty, she had beautiful eyes. He should probably feel more guilty thinking about a grade-school teacher like this, but he didn’t. He was curious though, to know if she felt the same sizzle. That kiss alone was inspiration enough for his overactive imagination.

  She looked out the window to avoid his question, he guessed, but then she faced him squarely. For having only met her twice, he found her expressions so easy to read. Like now, when she was nervous, a flash of uncertainty grazed her eyes.

  “I heard it’s been hard on you since your dad died. I’m sorry for your loss. There aren’t too many places in this town you can go and not hear a story about him. He was well-loved by this community.”

  Wyatt sat back and tried to relax. He picked up the mug and held it, giving his hands something to do. “Thank you. He was a good man. I do miss him…. A lot of folks around here do, I guess.”

  “It certainly seems as though he enjoyed being involved.”

  The slow, familiar buzz of guilt started in the middle of his gut. It happened every time someone tried to compare him to Jed. “Yeah, that’s very true.”

  “I only mention it because I’m involved this year with organizing the toy-and-food drive. I understand he was instrumental in starting that.”

  “Giving back was always important to him. Never a better time than at Christmas.” Wyatt caught Betty’s eye and lifted his cup for a refill.

  “It sounds like you don’t share that philosophy.”

  Ah yes, there it was. He scratched the back of his neck and searched for a polite way to tell her to mind her own business. He shrugged. “I have different ideas about it, is all.” She stared at him as though waiting to hear him list them one by one. “And I prefer to leave it at that.”

  An awkward silence slid by as Betty refilled both their cups.

  Aimee cleared her throat. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t try talking you into helping with the drive.”

  “Nope.” He took a long swallow of coffee and hoped one of them would change the topic—the sooner, the better.

  “Even if I said pretty please?”

  He should have listened to his gut and declined her invitation from the start. Wyatt placed his cup on the table. “Did you ask me to coffee to get me involved in your fundraising event?” The expression she wore was a mix of pity and curiosity. Clearly, he’d taken her by surprise. “Sorry, but if that’s the case. I’m not your guy.”

  “I-I….” Her cheeks shaded pink, and she stared at the cup in her hands. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Wyatt looked around, aware others had been listening to the conversation. “Look, it’s complicated.” His disdain for the holiday was tiresome to have to explain. Most folks in town had given up counting on his involvement and no longer questioned his reasons. Aimee, being new, didn’t realize experiences in his life had shaped his choices. “Listen. I respect those who volunteer and the events are well worth it, I agree. But all the goodwill-toward-men stuff is your choice, your belief, not mine.” The more he thought about trying to explain, the worse the whole idea sounded in his head. “Look, Aimee, it’s not you, it’s me. I just don’t get into the holidays like some. Maybe…maybe, I just don’t like Christmas.” He tossed a nondescript smile at her before swallowing the last of his coffee.

  She studied him as though dissecting his persona, trying to evaluate his soul to see where the abnormality was. He’d seen the look on too many other occasions. His brothers just teased him about it now.

  Her expression held a look of wonder. “I don’t think in all my life I’ve ever met anyone who didn’t like Christmas, most especially in this town. I just assumed, given Mr. Kinnison’s involvement, you’d feel the same.”

  He rubbed his hand over his heart. Damn, was the furnace set on high in this place? He stood, needing to get out.

  She looked down at her cup. “I guess for me, it’s a good way to meet people.”

  Her lips continued to move, but he didn’t listen as he fished out a ten-dollar bill and dropped it on the table. Only then did she look up, surprised to see him slipping into his coat. He gave a brief nod to Betty, who looked up at him from across the room.

  “Wait, where are you going?” Aimee looked genuinely confused. That made two of them.

  “Sorry to disappoint you. Thanks for the coffee and let me get this. I need to get on with my day. Good luck with everything and try not to get lost.” He tossed her a grin he hoped would smooth over his exit and planted his hat on his head.

  Her gaze, along with a number of others in near proximity, was a look of blatant shock. He felt like a man walking on hot coals as he left the café and strode to his truck. Only once did he dare to glance at the window and found both Betty and Aimee staring at him like he’d turned an odd shade of green. Maybe his heart really was two sizes too small. His gut clenched tight as he drove home, remembering why it was he didn’t venture out much this time of year and why he should have turned her down for coffee.

  Memories of the last woman he’d risked his heart for flooded his mind. She didn’t like the way he was, either; it had just taken him longer to recognize the signals. He’d tried to give Jessie what she wanted, but it wasn’t enough and she’d finally left him for another guy, just like his mom had left Jed. This episode with Aimee reminded him why he preferred a horseback ride or sitting on the deck counting the stars, instead of going to Dusty’s on a Saturday night with Dalton and Rein. His homebody tendencies had become an ongoing battle between his brothers and him. Wyatt understood that Dalt’s drinking was how he dealt with the crap he held deep inside him. How could he sit in judgment of his brother, though, when it took everything inside Wyatt to deal with the ghosts of his past? Fortunately for him, the ranch, and his responsibility to it, had turned out to be the most beautiful thing in his life: a rock, his salvation, a haven from all the pain of his past and he loved it with a passion unmatched.

  Until the day Aimee Worth knocked on his door.

  ***

  Aimee watched him drive away, dazed by his sudden departure and left to wonder whether she would ever taste those lips again. For a few moments, at least, it seemed the conversation was going well.

  “Took off, didn’t he?”

  She looked up to see Betty standing beside her. “Was that weird, or is it just me that thinks getting up in the middle of a conversation and leaving is strange?”

  “I’m taking a break, Jerry,” Betty called to her husband. She slid into the booth across from Aimee and set the coffeepot between them. Betty’s hand touch hers. She met the woman’s kind gaze.

  “Try not to let it disillusion you, honey. He’s been that way ever since Jed died.” Betty held up the pot, silently offering Aimee a refill. She was still trying to determine what had just happened.

  “No thanks. I don’t understand. Was it something I said?” First he plants a mind-boggling kiss on me, and then he up and leaves without explanation. It was certainly enough to knock the wind out of a girl’s sails.

  “Sweetie, let me tell you a bit about Wyatt. He’s got a lot going on inside of him
, if the rumors are true. But if you’re really interested in him, then I feel you should be aware of a couple of things.

  Aimee chuckled. “Does it matter whether or not I’m interested? Did you see the way he hightailed it out of here?”

  “Yep, I sure did. My guess is that you brought up Jed. Wyatt idolized him. All those boys did, but Wyatt especially. He tried so hard to be like him, but it was the strangest thing around Christmas—the poor boy would just shut down, like he was in a bubble.”

  Aimee frowned. “What happened?”

  Betty glanced away then leaned forward, lowering her voice to a whisper. Her eyes welled before she spoke. “It’s the most heartbreaking story, but if you were to ask me, it happened after that mother of theirs abandoned them.”

  She froze. Her hands gripped her cup. “You’re joking, right?”

  Betty shook her head. “Wyatt was, I don’t know, maybe eleven, Dalton two years younger, but both old enough to understand their mama didn’t seem to want them.”

  Aimee couldn’t imagine such a thing. “Maybe she couldn’t take care of them? Do you think she thought they’d be better off here?”

  Betty shrugged. “I suppose. I’d like to think she thought long and hard before she made her decision. But from what I understand, she moved those poor boys around a lot even before she met Jed. And the way I understand it, when she left here, it wasn’t alone.”

  “Oh my God.” She’d dealt with students whose parents were separated, others deceased or divorced, but never had she dealt with an abandoned child. Her heart ached for Wyatt.

  “Jed used to worry most about Wyatt. He said being the oldest, he took his mom’s departure the worst. Like any firstborn, Jed said he was constantly trying to make his mama happy. He said once it was like Wyatt had gone from being a kid to being an adult, overnight.”

  “Those poor boys.” Aimee thought about losing her sister, how sudden and horrible it had been, but there’d never been any doubt of the love they felt for one another as a family. They clung to each other in the aftermath, as they always had in difficult times. However, to be a child dealing with not only loss, but also the notion that you didn’t mean anything to the one person who mattered most in your life would be devastating.

  “In the long run, leaving those boys with Jed was a smart thing, but it was a monumental challenge. Not only did he have two young boys to bring up, he and their mom had only been married a little over a year. Just long enough to start settling into the idea of being a real family. He used to brag about how pretty she was and bring those boys in here nearly every Saturday morning after chores for my chocolate-sprinkled doughnuts.” Betty shook her head, dug a Kleenex from her pocket, and swiped her nose. “No, not being able to care for them I could have understood, but leaving a note in your boy’s robe pocket? I can’t understand, to this day, how a mother could do such a thing.”

  “A note? The woman left her children a note?” Could this tale get any worse?

  “In Wyatt’s robe pocket on Christmas morning.” Betty tapped her finger on the table. “What mother in her right mind would do something so cruel?”

  Aimee’s hand flew to her mouth. Though it was difficult to imagine rugged-looking Wyatt Kinnison as a boy, she thought of how innocent her second-grade boys were, how hard it must have been on him. Aimee realized that desperate people sometimes did things one wouldn’t normally think to do, but this was far beyond anything she’d ever heard of.

  Betty continued, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I think the reason Jed became so deeply involved in the holidays around here was to get those boys distracted from the painful memory and try to make new ones. He always believed hard work was a great healer. He made the ranch what it is, pretty much on a wing and a prayer. But he also he taught those boys everything he knew. I remember proud he was of them, like they were his own flesh and blood.” She paused, searching Aimee’s eyes. “You okay, darlin’?”

  Aimee nodded, trying to process this information.

  “Wyatt and those boys have done a wonderful job of running that ranch. But as far as being involved in the community, especially at Christmas,” she shook her head, “that’s where the similarities to Jed, more so with Wyatt anyway, end.”

  “You can hardly blame him, can you?” Aimee felt like a heel for pushing the holiday volunteer topic. “Is there anything else I should know about the Kinnison clan so I don’t stick my foot in my mouth again?”

  Betty tipped her head. “So you’re interested? More than a passing-acquaintance type thing?” A smile tipped the corner of her mouth.

  Aimee frowned. “Well, of course, I’m interested. Just don’t tell me he’s keeping ten wives out there on the ranch. Are Rein and Dalton married, then?”

  The sweet-faced woman straightened, and her eyes glittered with greater interest. “I don’t recall mentioning his brothers’ names.”

  Caught, Aimee chewed at the corner of her lip. It was probably better to admit her quick visit to the pub the other night. Chances were good it’d get around town eventually. “Okay, so maybe I asked around a little bit, out of curiosity.”

  “And what would prompt you to do that?” Betty leaned her cheek on her hand, waiting for her explanation. “You’ve been a busy young lady.” She raised a quizzical brow.

  Aimee sighed and leaned forward, hoping this wouldn’t backfire on her. She was still learning that in a small town, news, especially of the gossip variety, spread like wildfire. “I got lost the other night coming home from the city and I might have stumbled on the ranch.” She watched as Betty leaned back and waited for more. Visions of her confession splayed across the front page of the End Times Daily emerged in her head. “I saw the lights on at this house and took my chances someone was awake and able to give me directions. That’s all.” She took a sip of her now tepid coffee and grimaced. Aimee eyed the pot, but refused the idea of more caffeine.

  “Well, then that makes more sense,” Betty responded

  “What?”

  “Why he came in here with you after all this time.”

  Aimee eyed her friend. “You mean he hasn’t been in here since he was with Jed?

  “Not in roughly ten years, I think it is.” Jed died when Wyatt was twenty-one, maybe twenty-two. Now you can understand why the two of you together were getting so many odd looks.

  Aimee gave her a puzzled look. “I didn’t notice.”

  Betty patted her hand. “That’s because you didn’t take your eyes off him for a single second. But I’m guessing from the way he bolted out of here, he was very much aware of how folks were staring.”

  Aimee closed her eyes. Her cheeks burned with the memory of the surprise kiss, even more at the unexpected reaction of her body to it. Betty glanced around the nearly empty room. “I’ve got to go help with dishes and get ready for the supper crowd, honey.” She stood and picked up the coffeepot. “I don’t know what designs you might have on Wyatt Kinnison, but I can tell you this, he’s complicated. Probably worth it, but definitely complicated.” She leaned toward her. “Aside from being drop-dead gorgeous,” she whispered. “But you breathe a word to Jerry and I’ll deny it, you hear?” She grinned.

  Aimee lifted her mug in a salutary pledge. “My lips are sealed.”

  “Good luck, honey, and be careful.”

  “Promise.” She nodded.

  Later that evening, as she sat cross-legged on the couch preparing for her online poetry class, Aimee pondered the information she’d learned about the handsome savior in the storm—in particular, Betty’s parting caution to be careful. Before Sarah’s accident, those words had rarely entered into her vocabulary. Throughout her youth, Aimee had been the reckless one, and the one who probably was cause for the silvery-gray hair on her parent’s heads. Sarah was the one who’d done things by the book, the perfect child who studied hard and never gave anyone trouble. Aimee lost count of the number of times she’d questioned why it was Sarah in the accident and not her that night. Now and again, the gui
lt surfaced, though over time it happened less often. It was the reason she began to keep journals, needing the outlet to write down the swirl of emotions inside her. The earlier entries were apologies to Sarah, to her parents, and riddled with heartache. Those evolved into promises to change her life, to carry on what Sarah could not. In taking this journey, she had come to discover how much she loved to teach, in some ways that much closer she felt to Sarah now. However, as friendly as was the community, there were times when the loneliness was so overwhelming she wanted to bust loose and do something reckless.

  And everything about Wyatt Kinnison screamed reckless.

  Chapter Five

  Wyatt flipped on his favorite CD of American classic songs featuring Tony Bennett and Friends. He found music helpful in unwinding, particularly after a stressful day. It was habit, he guessed, from his observations of Jed doing the same as he read or did his paperwork. Wyatt paused to stir the fire. Today, however, every song seemed to paint another image of Aimee in his mind. From her smile, the way her blue eyes drank him in as they talked, and the way she looked, and how she’d recovered from that off-the-charts kiss they’d shared.

  The lyrics of the song, about how a woman bewitched her potential lover, seemed tailor-made for Wyatt’s current dilemma. Her name was Aimee Worth.

  “Sorry, Tony.” He flipped off the music, switched to the radio, and found a basketball game broadcast by a local station. The sound of squeaky tennis shoes on the court and the occasional whistle blow of a ref was better suited to averting how his body reacted when he thought of the kiss. Given the look on both her face, and Betty’s as he made his hasty exit, he’d likely have only his memories to appease him. Hell, maybe it was for the best. He and Aimee Worth couldn’t be any more opposite if they tried. Like most women, she was looking for her knight in shining armor. He wasn’t that guy. If she had been willing, he might have been tempted to have a little fun, but nothing more. After the way he’d left her today, anything at all with her was probably a moot point.