Blood Ties a Broken Heart

by Cassandra Hawke

  The past continued to haunt her and her father made sure she never forgot it. She had been substitute mother to her eleven siblings when her mother had died in childbirth. It had been a struggle, the mothering. She had made mistakes, got tired, grumpy and resentful of the sacrifice asked of her. She had fought with her father day in and day out about his expectations and the brutal discipline he often dished out to both sons and daughters. One day after she had been up most of the night with the youngest, she had gotten the older ones off to school and thinking the two littlies were safe with the door shut, she had nodded off at the kitchen table. She had been woken by little Adana screaming hysterically. She had lifted her up and prepared a bottle, but it was only when the child had finally settled that she’d realized young Rohan was nowhere to be found. She’d searched the house, the sheds, the stables and yards, worried, but as it had begun to get dark, she’d panicked. With Adana on her hip, she’d run to find Mrs. Binchey in the next cottage. Her sons had been home already and within half an hour, a full search had been under way for the four year old. Her father had already known Rohan was missing before he’d reached the cottage, raging through the door in a furious temper. He’d grabbed her collar and dragged her inside to the pantry. Here he’d ripped her skirt up over her head bent her over the nearest chair and thrashed her with the wide leather belt that held his trousers up.

  “You careless, lazy, little bitch. Can’t even trust you to watch a tiny tot barely steady on his feet. You just let him walk out the door damn it?” he’d bellowed and with each word he’d hit.

  The pain had cut through her as the strap had laid welts and bloody lines in its path, cutting her knickers to ribbons and exposing her backside to the sharp edge of the leather. Her father had ignored her screams. On and on he’d gone. Rylee had shut much of the hateful tirade out. Consumed with guilt, Rylee was sure her father would have beaten her to death if the searchers had not returned so soon with the child’s limp body draped in a rug. Rohan, his youngest son, dead and it was her fault.

  He had never forgiven her. She had lived in the house, but no longer considered it her home. She had cared for the people she lived with, but she could no longer regard them as family. Rylee’s aunt, her mother’s sister Mary, had been her salvation and sanity, but no matter how much she pleaded with her brother-in-law, Fagan O’Shaughnessy had never softened his stance toward Rylee. He made it clear he would never forgive her for the carelessness that robbed him of his youngest son. To this day, she remained unforgiven by him and herself.

  She also knew about stepmothers. Hers had come on the scene some six years after her mother’s death and she had stepped in and mothered her new husband’s brood with love, humor and fairness. That fairness had remained even when she’d had three of her own, all boys. She’d advocated for Rylee, but her father would not be swayed, even though he now had five strapping sons. Rylee loved and admired her father’s second wife and didn’t believe for a moment she could even come near this amazing woman’s ability to love another women’s children.

  She hugged her perceived failures with her siblings close to her soul, each one huge in her memory and coated in guilt. Even though they didn’t hold it against her, she held it against herself. Roisin—a year older than Rohan and inseparable from her younger brother—agreed with their father’s stance as soon as she’d been old enough to understand and they hadn’t spoken civilly for years. It had been a huge burden for Rylee while she had hidden in Tassie. Being ostracized by her father and sister perpetuated her punishment and added to the tremendous burden of guilt she continued to carry inside at her failure to keep her brother safe. She never trusted herself again with the supervision of any children, but those she might have of her own, and even then she wasn’t sure she deserved to be a mother.

  The thought of being responsible for Ash’s child terrified her, but that didn’t mean she could withstand the insult and hurt Ash had inflicted by making it clear she was not a suitable stepmother for his child.

  * * * *

  The next morning she skipped the farewell breakfast—too vulnerable and too angry to face Ash right now. Suddenly the future appeared tarnished, there would be no romantic re-union with Ash and all she had left was the stables, and she wasn’t sure if this was enough. She’d dated in Tassie, but never found anyone that could ignite a spark in her heart. Now she knew that her heart wasn’t dead, as she had often suspected, but in cold storage for Ashford St. Clair. He was her one true soulmate and the handsome prince who could awaken the sleeping beauty.

  Chapter Four

  When the door opened, Ash looked up, expecting Rylee. He hoped that she had thought over his proposal and decided it would work for them. He had just a fleeting second to feel disappointed when he saw Arden before she charged across the room and slapped him about the head and shoulders.

  “So, have you got her out of your system now, big brother? A couple nights of hot sex should have soothed the itch.” She thumped him again and again with her clenched fists.

  He struggled from under her attack and moved to the other side of the bed. “Don’t be so disgusting, Arden. I just happen to love Rylee—regardless of the angst between you two.”

  “You’re a fool, Ash,” Arden shouted. “She’s no good for you. What about Lilli? You know Rylee is hopeless with kids. Can’t stand them. She would run a mile before she took on the stepmother role.”

  Ash stood straighter, his fists clenched at his sides. “She never said she couldn’t stand kids.”

  “All I heard when we were riding together was how much she resented giving up her life to be a substitute mother to all her eleven siblings. She doesn’t even want kids of her own. Too much like slavery, she used to say,” Arden sniped in a childlike voice.

  “Arden, seventeen year olds say things like that all the time. It doesn’t mean Rylee thinks that way today.”

  “Huh. Did you tell her you had a daughter?”

  “I did. I also told her, clearly, I didn’t need a stepmother for Lilli.”

  Arden frowned. “And how did she take it?”

  “Well, she didn’t seem happy and sent me packing.”

  Arden slapped her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the side. “See? I told you so. She will use the horses to excuse herself. She would never tell you she didn’t like kids. Then what would happen to Lilli if you marry her? Poor Lilli—you don’t want her to suffer like I did. Resented, every day. Tortured or ignored. Would you put Lilli through that?”

  Ash looked away for a moment. No, he would not put Lilli at risk of a nasty stepmother. Not that he could reconcile in his head the Rylee he knew and anything nasty. His aching need for Rylee was a constant mental and physical torment and the thought that she would not want to mother his daughter enhanced it, but Ash knew he would always put his daughter first.

  “Besides, Lilli does not need anyone else. She has me,” Arden crowed.

  Ash contemplated his sister. She wasn’t boasting, for Lilli idolized Arden. They did lots of mother-daughter things during the holidays, especially when Ash went away for work. The one thing that faded the rosy picture was Ash’s edict that Lilli did not ride and Arden’s resentment of his decision. Even though his marriage to his late wife Julie had been disappointing for both of them after the first surge of lust was exhausted he had been traumatized by her fatal horse riding accident and now feared for his beloved daughter’s safety around Arden’s horses. Not that the question came up often because Lilli boarded at St Wilhelmina’s School.

  “I know Lilli has you, but I want Rylee.”

  “Well, sometimes we can’t have what we want, big brother.”

  “Damn it. I have kept your secret and supported you for ten years. I want the woman I love.”

  “And you would destroy my future? Would you really? For some trumped up little affair and hot sex. I would never forgive you.”

  Ash sighed. “No, I won’t do anything to destroy your future, but I’ll have to convince Rylee
to forgive me.”

  “Forgive, ha! Give it up, brother.”

  Ash glared at his sister. “Bugger off and leave me to wallow, okay? Go play with your precious horses.”

  Arden stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

  Ash sank back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. His chances of a satisfactory solution to his relationship with Rylee were shrinking by the minute. Arden, Rylee and Lilli, the three people he loved—God damn it, how the hell he could reconcile this conflict was tearing him to pieces.

  He knew he would have to talk to Rylee—seriously—about Lilli, Arden and their future—if they had a future. She had made it clear she wouldn’t just be his part-time partner, and he thought he’d detected a desire for her own children. He was glad he had to go away for a couple of weeks. It would give him some head space to decide just what he wanted and how much he was prepared to compromise to work things out with Rylee. Despite Arden’s cynicism, he was determined not to let Rylee slip from his life. He loved her. If he didn’t they were going to shred his heart and his sanity.

  Arden had made great progress in the last few years and hoped to be chosen for the Olympic team if she completed the requirements for qualification. He couldn’t betray her as Rylee suggested, but he had no idea how to get her to accept his past actions when he had trouble accepting the connotations that came with his lie to save his sister’s future. He missed competing but there was nothing that would lure him back into eventing to face the gossips and innuendo that would undoubtedly fly around.

  And as for Lilli, he was confused. He thought by relieving Rylee of any real responsibility for his child, she would have been pleased, but instead she was furious and claimed to want her own children. Things had definitely changed in the ten years apart. It was complicated and he was perplexed and disorientated about the next move, scared stiff he would destroy everything.

  * * * *

  Rylee breathed in deeply as she stepped out of the taxi. The fresh cold air was overlain with the rustic earthy smells of wood smoke, horse, leather and hay to welcome her home.

  Regan appeared at the stable door. “Good to have you home, sis. Come here. We have an addition to the family.”

  She left her case and followed him into the warm, dim interior. In the third loose box stood her new mare, Sapphire Cloud. At her side, nuzzling at her teat, stood a dark gray foal—a filly.

  She leaned on the gate and stared at the baby. “Oh, Regan, she’s so beautiful. I gather everything went well.”

  “It did. So how was the conference?”

  She stared at the horses, unable to face her brother’s scrutiny.

  “Sis?” Regan urged

  “Ashford St. Clair was there,” she said dully.

  “And…?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing’s changed.”

  “You still love him then? We all know you have never stopped loving him all these years.”

  She looked up at her brother. “No, I have never stopped loving him and apparently he still loves me, but nothing’s changed. His sister is to remain innocent while he continues to carry the rap for her.”

  Now the tears welled up and rolled down her cheeks. “Oh, Regan, I’ve made such an idiot of myself.”

  Regan took her into his embrace. “You slept with him then?” he asked softly.

  She nodded against his shoulder. “I love him.”

  “Never mind. Maybe he just needs to think it through.”

  “No he’s never going to betray his sister. Now he has a daughter and he made it clear he does not want me to mother his child. Someone must have told him about Rohan. So where does it leave me?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, sis, but surely he can’t hold that against you?”

  She shrugged. “Why not? My father does.”

  “Yeah, but our father is different. He’s a hard man.”

  “He’s a parent. So is Ash,” she replied, as she left the stable and went to unpack. So you’ve done it now. You know what it’s like to be loved by Ash. Now get on with it, woman. Make these stables great. It’s all you’ve got. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes, but she blinked them back. There was no use crying. Maybe when he had time to think it through, to realize how much they meant to each other, he would change his mind.

  * * * *

  The days passed slowly. The phone hung heavy in the pocket of her workpants as Rylee mucked out, cleaned tack and prepared feeds. She expected him to call. Surely he would call. Her mind refused to process his proposal that she become his mistress. The idea scored painful slices across her heart and her pride. She had expected a complete retraction—if not immediately, by now. As each day passed and it didn’t come, Rylee began to slide into melancholy and she suspected this is how he intended to end their relationship. A great love ending with a brooding silence.

  Regan tried to jolly her out of her mood and for his sake, she tried to appear upbeat, but it was when she worked alone in the stables with only the horses for company that she allowed herself to indulge in a little self-pity. And horses were great listeners. Rylee had no regrets about consummating her love, but she wished she had gone into the situation with a more realistic view of the outcome. He hadn’t put her first ten years ago and with Arden on the verge of qualifying for selection on the Olympic team, why would he change his decision now?

  * * * *

  The next two weeks were madly busy. Some of Rylee’s marketing strategies came to fruition quite quickly with two schools coming in for a heavily discounted five-lesson course held over a week. Rylee loved having the groups in. Teaching them about horses, how to care for them, how to ride and be safe and how to love them. She had no concerns about these kids because they had two eagle-eyed teachers supervising them and Regan by her side.

  She had secured new customers from these groups, where the child leased a horse and took total responsibility for it on the proviso that an adult was there to supervise each time. Sometimes the parents bought them a horse and stabled it with Rylee.

  This was where Rylee intended to expand—with more stables and a second undercover riding arena. She had the money to achieve it with what her godmother Aileen had left her, in addition to the stables set on twenty acres of land. She had discussed the plans with her godmother before she’d passed away. It was really her dream, but she had got too old and too sick to achieve it. Rylee now had the chance to realize Aileen’s dream and her own, especially now that Regan had joined her. She did wish she had enough money to buy the place next door. She would have loved to set up a cross-country course and allow for endurance ride training and a stud. She had big dreams but to secure them, she had to keep away from Ash lest his reputation damage hers. She already knew that one could live with a broken heart and function adequately.

  * * * *

  The fire crackled merrily, making the room warm and cozy as Rylee sat across the desk from her brother, discussing the current financial position of the stables and how they could best afford the expansion. Rylee pulled out her notes from the conference and together they drew up a business plan. Rylee made some tentative projections, knowing full well she had to get more of her clients to enter into the horse shows, endurance rides and other events to raise the profile of her stables in the equestrian world. She had convinced two of her older clients to enter the junior section of a limited distance endurance ride through Kypo forest on the weekend. They had been training for weeks. The horses were fit and the girls, more than capable.

  The phone’s shrill ring shattered their quiet communication.

  “Rylee,” she said absently, still watching her brother doing calculations.

  “It’s Ash. Please don’t hang up.”

  “What do you want?” Her tone was brusque.

  “We need to talk. It can’t end like this. I need you.”

  “I don’t think there is anything to talk about. You made your stance pretty clear on just how much you need me,” she grumbled.

  “Please,
just have dinner with me. I’m sure we can work this out.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” she replied.

  She saw her brother shaking his head. “Go, Rylee. Give him a chance to redeem himself.”

  “Sorry. Am I interrupting you?” Ash asked.

  Rylee adjusted the phone, puzzled at her brother’s urging. “No, it was just my brother. For some strange reason, he appears to be on your side. So when do you want to have dinner?”

  “Tomorrow night,” Ash suggested.

  “Fine. I’ll meet you at Il Palatino at seven,” Rylee agreed.

  “I could come and pick you up,” Ash offered.

  “No. I’ll see you tomorrow night. Goodbye.” She disconnected and flopped back in her chair. “Good grief, Regan, now what have I done? Why the hell did you suggest I go?”

  “The right thing. You love him. Take a chance, sis. Maybe you can have both.”

  For the next twenty-four hours she fretted and questioned her decision. Here she was walking right into a storm of heart ache, but somehow it didn’t feel finished. Something more needed to be said.

  * * * *

  Ash was seated outside. He watched her walk across the road to the restaurant. There was hunger in his expression and tiredness around his eyes. So he’d missed her just as much as she had missed him these last couple of weeks. Her sympathy store was a little on the low side. He smiled as she arrived at the table, stood and pulled out her chair. He made no attempt to kiss her.

  With their order taken, Ash took her hand in his. “I’m sorry, Rylee. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Oh, I am sure you didn’t,” she responded with a sharp edge of sarcasm, fully expecting this conversation to lead to more emotional hurt.

  He shrugged. “But I did and I’m sorry. What I offered was demeaning and based on outdated assumptions. I should have asked you, talked it through with you, but… Well, I wanted to make love to you so badly that I didn’t think. But the thing is, Rylee… It’s not just me now.” He stilled and stared up at her, his expression full of guilt. “Lillian is eight years old. I was working on the idea you hated kids or at least would refuse to be a stepmother. I thought wrong, and I’m sorry.”