Waiting On The Rain (The Walker Brothers Book 3)

by Claudia Connor

  She felt around for her cane, desperate to get away.

  “Ava, come on. That was my fault. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You didn’t scare me, Luke.”

  “I startled you. I—”

  “Just stop. Please.”

  They both knew that’s not what happened. She’d misread the situation. Not the first time. And she was afraid if she didn’t get away from him now she was going to cry in front of him.

  She pushed past him, found her cane, then holding one hand out for extra protection, she walked out of the tack room. And right into Hannah.

  “Ava.”

  “Hi. Hey.”

  “Your sister-in-law is here. I was just coming to tell you.”

  “Great. Thanks. I’m ready.”

  As she was leaving, Ava could just barely hear Hannah ask Luke, “Something going on you want to tell me about?”

  She didn’t catch Luke’s reply.

  “Ryan got held up,” Connie said, explaining why she was there instead of Ava’s brother. “And I’d say that’s a lucky break for you.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Because,” Connie said, when they were both in her car. “I walk in a barn to get you and you come tearing out like your ass is on fire.” She tapped her finger on the steering wheel. “Interesting.”

  “I was in a hurry,” she said, fastening her seat belt. “And why is that interesting?”

  “That’s not. The man who came out behind you looking like he’d just stolen the last cookie from the cookie jar… That was interesting.”

  It was embarrassing and it jerked her back to a time with so much uncertainty she sometimes wondered if she would ever completely shake it. The humiliation, the feelings of betrayal. Luke hadn’t betrayed her, but he’d… What? Rejected her?

  No, not really. But wanting Luke to kiss her made the wound of Blake’s rejection fresh and raw. And it infuriated her.

  Connie drove slowly up the gravel drive. “I’m looking at you and I don’t see any hay in your hair.”

  “Why would I have hay in my hair? I was cleaning tack.”

  “Uh huh. Looked like more was going on than wiping saddles.”

  Ava could hear the grin in her sister-in-law’s voice.

  “Want to share?” Connie asked, pausing before turning onto the main rode.

  “No,” Ava said, knowing she was pouting.

  “Well, can I just say, wow?”

  Ava turned her hot face to the window. “You can.”

  “Hey.” Connie reached over. “Did something happen? Do we need Ryan to kick someone’s ass?”

  “No. Nothing happened. I thought… Never mind.”

  “What? Just tell me already!”

  “I thought something was about to happen, but I was wrong. He was just getting something off my face. My mistake.”

  “Mmm. Well, men are stupid. Want me to tell you what he looks like? Just for kicks?”

  She really did. And some of the embarrassment was replaced by curiosity. “If you must.”

  “I must. Okay… Tall, for starts.”

  “I know that much.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah. I danced with him at that wedding thing.”

  “Ooooh. Danced with him.”

  “Jeez. Stop making me sound like I’m in middle school.”

  “Hey, I’m just describing the man. You’re doing the rest.”

  “Right.” And Connie had known her a long time. She’d been with her brother the past ten years, married for the past eight.

  “Okay, where was I? Tall, hair a little on the long side. Not enough for a man bun. More like he’s missed a few haircuts. Doesn’t look like he has a typical office job.”

  “He’s military. Or he was.”

  “Mmm. Well, big, built. And hot. I can say that as a happily married woman. Your brother is civilized handsome. This guy is wild, rugged cowboy, ex-military hot.”

  “A cowboy,” Ava muttered under her breath.

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing.” She didn’t know looks, but she knew in terms of comparison. The same as so and so, or different than. She knew tall or short. Big or skinny. Messy or grungy or neat.

  They’d had dolls, she remembered, in preschool or therapy. Some with beards to feel. Other with curly hair and straight hair. There were different shaped eyes she could run her fingers over. Color never mattered except in comparison—same as hers, different than mine. “Thanks for picking me up.”

  “No problem. I don’t mind. Gives us a chance to catch up.”

  “I know, but I could have called a cab or Uber. I hate that Ryan’s the stubborn one and you got stuck with chauffeur duty.”

  “I know you do. Get over it. Ryan wants to have a baby.”

  “What? Talk about change of subject.”

  “I told you I wanted us to catch up.”

  “Well… wow. What do you want?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I thought you two had decided not to have children. I know you don’t want to give up your practice.” Connie was a prosecuting attorney and loved it.

  Connie’s cell phone rang through the car. “Shit. I need to take this. I’m sorry.”

  “No problem.” She didn’t mind being left to her thoughts. Her brother with a baby. Ava smiled. She’d be an aunt. There’d been a time, a very short time, when she’d thought she might get the chance to be a mom herself.

  11

  “Sorry for staring,” Blake said to the waitress.

  Ava could hear the smile and fun in his voice.

  “I just had an eye transplant, so I’m seeing everything for the first time.”

  He told almost everyone they met. She got it. Of course it was exciting. Of course he was staring at everything new. Oh, my God, Ava, you should see the skyline tonight. You should see the river. I wish you could see…

  Didn’t matter what. It was everything.

  It had made her smile at first. Eight months later it was getting… tiresome. And more and more Blake sounded agitated when she didn’t respond with the same level of awe.

  You just can’t understand how beautiful it is, he’d say, giving up his description. It’s not at all like I’d pictured. The people, the buildings.

  And on and on it went. He wanted to go to movies and art galleries and she was more than happy to go. But he almost seemed disappointed in her somehow.

  “Oh, wow,” the waitress exclaimed. She had a young sultry kind of voice that Ava imagined went with an attractive face. “That’s amazing. Then you’ve got someone else’s eyes?”

  “Well, they’re mine now,” he said, and Ava suddenly hated the waitress because she knew Blake and she knew he struggled with that aspect of the surgery. The fact that the only reason he could see was because someone else had died.

  “You have really interesting hair,” Blake went on, not sounding bothered by the waitress’s comment at all. From there her husband and the amazed waitress with the interesting hair talked on and Blake’s tone gradually changed from innocent to something else.

  Twisting in the sheets, Ava came awake in her childhood bed. A dream. But a very real one. She checked the time on her phone. Too early to get up so she turned over, wiling herself to go back to sleep. It wasn’t happening.

  She replayed that scene with Blake again. And the part before the waitress had come over. When Blake had quietly admonished her for touching her steak. “Babe. Don’t.” It was something they always did, a double check to make sure they didn’t fork up something they’d want to spit in their napkin.

  That’s why it was so easy to be with Blake. But not anymore. Now she was an embarrassment.

  She tried to go to sleep, but the scene with Luke in the barn came to mind. She wouldn’t have minded kissing Luke. Lord he’d smelled good and she hadn’t forgotten those shoulders from their dance the reception. It was funny really, a funny miscommunication. Unfortunate she couldn’t work up a laugh.

  F
irst on Luke’s list for the day, after coffee, was to walk the wooded route that Hannah was thinking to use as the campers’ path to and from the barn and the cabins. He wanted to get a feel for the distance and the terrain. He’d come back with an odometer later. After he bought one.

  He made his way through the wooded area, bypassing the back pastures. It didn’t add much distance if any and it was shaded which would be important in the summer. To the left and up the hill was Hannah’s house and to the right and down a little way was the front of the barn. If she decided on this route, it’d save some work since they’d be using a portion of Hannah’s gravel drive. But then maybe having kids anywhere near a road used by cars wasn’t a good idea.

  Maybe he’d just go tell Hannah what he thought now. And if he happened to score some breakfast, that’d be a bonus. He made the left turn that would take him up the shaded gravel drive. Tall pines interspersed with dogwood and maple lined either side keeping it in perpetual shade.

  He climbed the porch steps, rapped his hand on the door once then walked in. And was nearly blinded.

  “Shit!” His hand flew up to cover his face but not fast enough to save him from seeing his sister straddling the kitchen chair her husband was currently sitting in.

  “Jeez,” Hannah said. “Knock much?”

  “I did knock! And I’m leaving now.” With his hand still firmly over his eyes, he turned to find his way back out the way he’d come, had a flash of Ava trying to find her way, and heard his sister laughing behind him.

  “Oh, good grief. It’s not like we’re naked.”

  “Well, we almost were,” Stephen grumbled.

  Luke heard a chair scrape on the floor and lowered his hand to take a peek. His brother-in-law was leaning back against the counter, scowling, a mug of coffee in his hand.

  “Sorry,” Hannah said, walking to the sink. “We’ve both told you you’re welcome anytime. And you are.”

  “Any time is a stretch.”

  Hannah shot her husband a look. “Want coffee?” Hannah offered, walking over and giving her husband a hip bump out of the way.

  “It’s the least you could do.”

  “What brings you by unannounced and uninvited?” Stephen asked.

  “Behave yourself,” Hannah said, and handed Luke a mug.

  “I don’t even remember. I’m wiping out the last ten minutes. My eyes are burned.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes and laid pieces of bacon in a pan. “You do know how you got your nephew right?”

  For the first time he noticed his nephew sitting in a high chair poking in Cheerios. “You sure you should be doing that in front of the kid?”

  Hannah smiled and took a swig of coffee. “You take the moments when you can. You’ll understand one day.”

  “Bite your tongue,” Luke told her.

  “You two watch the bacon while I get myself dressed.” She pressed a kiss to her husband’s lips and left the men to tend to breakfast.

  They stood a few seconds not speaking. Stephen at the counter flipping the sizzling bacon. Him sipping his coffee. Mitchell eating Cheerios like it was the last food on earth. It reminded him he’d wanted breakfast. “Put in a few extra pieces, will ya?”

  Stephen grumbled about him being a mooch but did it.

  “Hey, I’m the one doing all the building that I was supposed to be helping you with.”

  “True. And I appreciate it. Things have gotten busy at work. I’m closing on houses as fast as Matt can flip them.”

  “Toast?” Luke asked, as he dropped in a piece for himself.

  “Sure. Hannah mentioned she interrupted something the other day.” He turned, with what was his standard grin. “Between you and one of her riders?”

  He’d been half trying to forget it and half trying to figure out what to do about it. “What did she think she was interrupting?”

  “She didn’t know but she also said Ava—that’s her name right? — Well that she didn’t look happy and you looked like you’d just been kicked in the teeth. Not her exact words.”

  “Excuse me!” Hannah came in, narrowed her eyes at her husband. “I told you that in confidence.”

  Stephen lifted a shoulder. “Just making conversation, babe. Being friendly.”

  “Right.”

  Now it was Luke’s turn to grin. He picked up an egg from a black wire basket on the counter and held it out. “Blue eggs? What kind of chickens lay blue eggs?”

  “Different kinds that lay brown or white eggs, I suppose,” Hannah said and strode to the counter, topped off her coffee. “I got them from a lady who sells them at a little farmer’s market stand. Her property actually backs up to ours.”

  “Huh.” Luke turned it in his hand and put it back.

  “I told her about the camp and all. She didn’t seem too happy about it.”

  Luke opened a drawer for a butter knife, found spatulas and whisked and moved on to another. “Maybe she’s old, doesn’t like kids.”

  “No, not old. But I did get that feeling on the kids. Whatever. I’m still hoping to work out something with her for fresh fruit and vegetables for camp.” Hannah opened a drawer, handed her brother a knife. “Have you remembered what you came here for?”

  “It’s coming back to me. I walked the route from the cabins to the barn, taking a cut through the woods.”

  “Okay. What’d you think?”

  “I think it had possibilities. And I won’t know for sure until I get an exact measurement, but I don’t think it’ll be that much more expensive. It’d give nice side cover in the summer, add some natural walk interest.”

  “I love that.”

  Luke grabbed his toast and went to the fridge for butter. “I need to walk it with an odometer.”

  “I can get my hands on that,” Stephen said. “I’ll drop it by later today.”

  “That works. As soon as I know I can work up some materials prices for you.”

  “You know,” Hannah said. “Speaking of prices, I got a generous check in the mail from the man who donated Newman.”

  Luke took a swallow of coffee. “Nice.”

  “It was. And interestingly enough, that check came wrapped in a sheet of paper with a note.” Hannah eyed him over the rim of her mug and he didn’t miss the gleam in her eye.

  After taking a long slow drink of her coffee, she turned, opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet of pale pink paper. She held it up to read.

  “For Luke— in swirly handwriting. And there’s a phone number.” She sniffed the paper, clearly enjoying herself then held it out to him. “You know if her father and I hadn’t been there, I think she might have jumped you right in the barn. She was cute.”

  “Cute my ass. More like a tiger and she looked at me like I was a piece of meat.” He looked at the paper and thought of the horse donor’s daughter. She looked to be in her twenties, sharply dressed in a white blouse tucked into tight, dark jeans and little brown boots with mile high heels. She was a looker for sure and no doubt she knew it.

  “Not interested?” Hannah asked. “Wouldn’t hurt you to go out on a date.”

  “No, thanks. Not my type.”

  “Oh? What is your type? Could it be blonde? Blue eyed, maybe?”

  “I’m leaving now. I don’t know why I even help you.”

  He strode to the door, taking his toast and bacon with him. And possibly a grin on his face.

  12

  “That’s enough,” Ava’s dad said, and grunted as he dropped back into the chair.

  “Nope. Three more,” she told him, touching his calf gently. “Come on, you can do it. Raise your foot. Come on, Dad, really raise it.”

  He groaned. “Fine. It’s up.”

  “Okay. Hold,” she counted to five the way she’d heard the therapist do it. “Are you holding it or trying to pull one over on me?”

  Her mom rushed in—she always seemed to be in a rush. She gathered the dishes beside her dad’s recliner, took them to the kitchen and came back to pick up and stack magazi
nes on the end table. “I’d never get him to do these exercises. He’d be sniping at me the whole time.”

  “Dad never snipes,” Ava said, smiling at her dad.

  “Hah.” She wrapped an arm around Ava’s shoulder. “We love having you here. I hope you know we appreciate it.”

  “I do, and you’re welcome.”

  “Do you really have to go back? I know it’s a great job, but—”

  “No, Mom. I’m sorry, but this is only temporary, and…”

  “And what?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What’s this nothing? You can’t just say nothing.”

  “Oh, God.” She nearly smacked her palm to her forehead. Why had she said anything?

  “Ava?” Her mom was waiting.

  “I may be getting a new job. I’ve applied for one anyway.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s not here, or close,” she said quickly before her mom could get her hopes any higher. “It’s actually in—” She braced herself “— Italy.”

  “What? Ava Lane! Italy? What in the world could you possibly have to do in Italy?”

  She was an adult. She would remain calm. “I would have a job there, if I get it. I don’t even know if I will which is why I shouldn’t have said anything.” This didn’t need to mirror the battle of wills of her childhood. She made herself smile. “It’d be great really. You and dad could visit.”

  “Ava.” Her mother’s tone wasn’t just shocked now, but disappointed. A hundred times worse. “Isn’t New York far enough away from us?”

  “I’m not getting away from you, Mom. That’s not why I live in New York.”

  “She’s an adult, Nance. Leave her alone.”

  “I am leaving her alone. I’m just asking questions for heaven’s sake. I’m sure there are places around here that need translators. Just the other day my friend Carol said how she’d seen a translator at the airport.”

  Her mother sighed again and Ava heard her sink onto the couch. She didn’t bother explaining the difference in translator and interpreter, but went to her, touched her shoulder. “Please don’t worry. I probably won’t even get it.”