Every inch of my body coiled, and each step I took required more effort than the last. I'd left Austin to explore New York-well, the bagel shop at the corner-while I went to have a conversation with my best friend and boss. My stiletto-clad foot slipped on the marble floors in the lobby, and an older gentleman kindly prevented my fall. Heat rose in my cheeks, and embarrassment gripped what little hold I had on reality. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Happens to me all the time." He lifted his hand, and a nervous giggle passed my lips. Even at his age, he was spry, and I found humor in the cane he showed off with pride. I wondered if women found that attractive later in life, although I didn't ask. Instead, I patted his hand and thanked him. He then shooed off my apology. "A girl as pretty as you, the pleasure was all mine." Yeah, this guy definitely played the geriatric field. The man straightened his suit jacket, tipped his cane to the up arrow, and then pressed the button to ca
The four-day drive back to Mason Belle turned into seven. Austin and I used the time to catch up; although, not a lot had gone on in either of our lives. Our greatest sticking point had been my relationship with Eason. It took a FaceTime call to him and Garrett to get Austin to relax about the security of our friendships. By the time we'd hung up, Garrett had Austin howling with laughter and Eason shaking his head in the background. Austin and Eason would need to get to know each other, and that could happen over time. For now, they seemed to appreciate what the other brought to my life and left the mutual understanding at that.After stopping at the airport to pick up his truck, we arrived at Austin's house before lunch, and he'd insisted we go inside to eat before he went to Cross Acres. Unable to convince him that food and a nervous stomach didn't make a happy union, I gave in. It dawned on me that it wasn't his refrigerator he wanted to show off. Austin was proud of the two-story
There'd never been a day in all the years I'd been coming to Cross Acres that I'd dreaded it. Even when Randi had shown up unexpectedly, it was never the ranch I didn't want to be near. For years, this place had been my solace. Today, however, I had to have a conversation I wasn't keen on having with a man I'd respected my entire life. Not even the sound of the gravel under my tires soothed the ache in my chest.I'd debated on whether or not to go straight to the farmhouse or get the guys out working before I pulled Jack aside. I'd opted for the second. If there were a scene, no one needed to be around to witness it. I didn't care if Jack had deeded the ranch over to me; this was still his home, and these men respected him.It had taken me a little over an hour to get everyone out of earshot, and once I had, I climbed the steps to the front porch. At a little after six, there was no doubt in my mind Jack was awake-it was in his blood. He'd get up when the rooster crowed for the res
My phone rang for the fourth time since I'd left for work this morning. I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face seeing Randi's name flash across my screen. Her calls came at inconvenient times, but damn if it didn't make my day. I slid my hand from the glove I was wearing to swipe my finger across the screen. "Hey, sweetheart." "What are you doing?" The boredom in her voice was palpable, and it caused me to snicker when I responded."I'm working. The same thing I was doing the other three times you called.""Oh... I'm sorry. I'll let you go."I tucked the phone between my shoulder and my ear so I could talk to her and at least make it appear like I was working to anyone who might see me. "Everything okay?" "Yeah, I'm just bored."We'd had this conversation several times in the last few days. "Why don't you get out of the house? Go into town. If nothing else, go grocery shopping." She was afraid of the reactions she'd get without me, Sarah, or Jack at he
I threw the truck in park, glanced at the clock, and then jumped out, slamming the door behind me. It had been over an hour since I'd gotten the call, and I hadn't been able to reach Austin since. My feet refused to carry me as fast as I wanted them to move, and the second I made it inside the emergency room, I came to a halt. A flood of memories hit me, and they weren't the good kind.The last time I'd stood in this room, I was blind with rage. It was also the day Austin became a man, and I lost my little girl to the person who owned her heart. It took guts for him to step in front of her that day. Almost as much as it took for him to confront me when he got back from New York. I'd hoped that day would never come, but I prayed for it all the same. In order to atone for a sin, I had to confess it...and then deal with the punishment. Austin had made damn certain I understood that if I ever raised a hand to Randi again, there wouldn't be a hound in the world who'd sniff out my remains.
Hospitals do their best to be nice places. They keep the lobbies scrubbed, arrange leather furniture around fake hearths, and add little gardens to their walkways, but it is all still largely for the visitors. The cafés with their warm-coffee smells at the entrance, the small gift shops with fuzzy bears and big red hearts, and the fountains full of wishful pennies don't do anything for the people inside. Just like everyone else, I'd stopped to grab a snack before facing whatever lie upstairs. People latch onto anything that allows them to forget the pain and misery while paying their respect. Everyone wants a distraction. No one chooses to think about what is going on a few floors above their heads. The patients are the ones who have to live with the buzz of bright fluorescent lights, the sanitized and sterile smell, and the constant hum of electronics. That is why no one likes hospitals. When a patient is there for the long haul, they are left staring at a white wall with their
The idea of anyone trying to make her feel bad about what she was going through mortified me. This was one of the hardest times of her life; hell, she was lucky to be alive. If I were ever privy to anyone trying to tell her to suck it up, I'd give them a clear message regarding their behavior. I'd be damned if I didn't put them through a window. "You're not making a scene." I wasn't great with words and even worse at empathy, so I tried to keep my voice gentle. I tended to have a fairly deep timbre, and in this stark room, it reverberated rather forcefully. The last thing I wanted to do was come across as condescending. "You've been through a lot. I think you're entitled to show some emotion." I needed her to look at me, to give me an indication that she heard me, but I got nothing. "Most people would have cracked under the pressure. You are an incredibly strong woman." She shook her head, and her messy blond curls bounced with the movement. "I'm not." Her voice cracke
There was a beautiful blue butterfly on the porch railing. I wanted to capture it and put it in a glass jar, even though I shouldn't. Daddy always told me that rubbing the powder off a butterfly's wings made it impossible for them to fly. I didn't want to hurt the thing; I just wanted to look at it a little longer. And as soon as I walked up the porch, it would fly off, and I would never see it again. The butterfly flew away, as predicted, and I had only made it up the first step. With the slight distraction gone, I was free to focus on other things. I had a mission in mind now that Miranda was home. Through the screen door, I could hear her rustling around in the kitchen like a raccoon. Honestly, there were some days where she wasn't so bad. They were just buried underneath all of the other days where everything she did annoyed me. She had her face stuck behind the fridge door, and I waited-patiently-for her to pull her head out. I had no doubt she