by Natalie Dean
“Maybe,” Keiko admitted. “Do you have any really nice horses that don’t mind an inexperienced rider? I thought it’d be nice to just trot through a field or something like that.”
“You know what? I think I have a horse in mind. It’s the one that Bradley used with Sophia. I think he’s up in his office. I’m just gonna grab him and go check.”
Keiko flushed at that. As much as she enjoyed helping others, she loathed feeling like a burden. She was so used to being independent that way.
“Oh, you don’t have to. I would hate to be a bother.”
Missy leveled her with a look that Keiko had seen stop Bart right in his tracks when he was about to go into a manic rant. “Please girl, you are family here. It’ll only take a second, and we can both see if Ma made up some fresh lemonade.”
“I… all right. If you insist.”
“Funny story, I just about insist on everything.”
Keiko chuckled at that. Missy’s strong nature was almost as notorious as Dani’s, but she admired both of the women for that. It had taken her so long to stand up for herself, but that just seemed to come to both women naturally.
“So I’ve noticed.”
They headed inside where there indeed was a fresh pitcher of lemonade. Keiko busied herself with pouring a glass for her and Missy each—she was familiar enough with the Miller kitchen to help herself—and waited for the blond to go all the way up to Bradley’s office.
Keiko realized she had never been up in that room. Probably because it seemed like Sophia and Bradley’s little haven where they both escaped from everything to just be together.
Once more, she felt a strange sort of shift in her belly, a sort of longing for that, but she quickly dismissed it.
And she dismissed it just in time, as both Sophia and Missy came stampeding down the stairs, with Bradley in tow.
“I hear you want to go out on a ride?”
Keiko nodded. “I thought it might be nice. I feel like I’ve been cooped up for too long.”
“You know, the weather is beautiful today. I think we could all use an outing.” Bradley said, crossing to the fridge and grabbing a water bottle.
“Oh, really?” That surprised Keiko. As far as she knew, the only thing that could usually tear Bradley away from his work was Sophia herself. Interesting. Maybe they both were growing. “You have the time?”
“I’ll make it. What’s the point of living if you don’t enjoy it? Right?”
He had a point there, and that was how she found herself up and on a very tall horse, trotting through hay fields and around the many trails of the Miller farm.
It really was peaceful. Watching the butterflies and dragonflies all buzzing about, and the ducks and swans in the water. Workers waved to them as they passed, and they stopped for a good half hour to explore and harvest from Ma’s garden that was bigger than most people’s back yards.
But the real fun part was when they were going around a field where the milk cows were all grazing. Since the Millers were all about humane treatment, they didn’t keep their cows continuously pregnant or take their babies away, so it really was something else to see all the growing calves running around and acting like young ones should be able to act—unrestricted and carefree.
If Keiko didn’t know better, she would think that cows were just very large, vegetarian dogs.
“Hey, I want you to meet my favorite,” Missy said, stopping her horse and swinging herself down. The whole movement was impressive to Keiko considering that the blond’s horse was even bigger and taller than her. Then again, Missy was somewhere around six-foot tall, so it made sense that she needed a mount that reached her.
Keiko followed suit, and they walked between the grazing cows, Missy clearly on the lookout for something in particular. Keiko reached out every so often, stroking at different cows as she went along. She was always surprised by how warm and soft they were. It almost made her want to cuddle up with one on a starry night, which wasn’t like her. She wasn’t the most… touchy of people. She liked her personal space.
“Francesca!” Missy let out a sharp whistle and there was a loud bleat in response—or whatever sound it was that young cows made—and suddenly a happy creature came bounding over to them.
Oh, wow, she was adorable. Dappled with roan and white, the calf that ran up to Missy had the most ridiculously long lashes that Keiko had ever seen, complete with dainty hooves and what almost looked like freckles below her chocolate eyes.
“Hey there, my little girl. This is my friend Keiko! I don’t think you two have met, have you?”
“No, we haven’t,” Keiko said, crouching down in front of the animal only to receive a lick up the side of her entire face.
Aw, that was sweet… but also really gross.
Keiko felt a familiar twist in her stomach, and the urge to scrub her face was almost overwhelming. Quickly she stood, hands scrambling for the sanitizer that she always kept in her pocket.
“Whoops, sorry about that.” Missy laughed.
But Keiko’s mind was already taking off. She could feel germs burrowing into her skin—and she needed to scrub. She needed to be clean.
She got the sanitizer onto her hands and slapped it right on her face, rubbing vigorously. She could feel her adrenaline spiking, and she had to remember her breathing.
In through her nose, out through her mouth.
In through her nose, out through her mouth.
Calm. Calm.
Germs didn’t move in real-time like that. She was fine. She was okay. Discomfort was not lethal.
“Uh, Keiko, are you okay?”
She felt like she had a white-knuckle grip on her own consciousness, and it took all of her energy to remain calm as she answered.
“I didn’t realize how much time had passed. I have a prayer session I need to get to church for.”
“Oh, yeah, let’s get you back.”
“Sophia and I are going to keep riding, if you don’t mind,” Bradley said. “Missy, can you take her back?”
“Sure, that’s no problem. See you around dinner!”
And that was that. No one asked any questions which was a relief. While Keiko had been relatively open about her mental illness with them, she supposed none of them really understood what it was like to struggle with OCD. So many people used the term flippantly, but they didn’t understand the rituals, the impossible-to-ignore urges. At the moment, her entire insides were crawling, demanding that she wash her hands. That she touch a knob one time. Two times. Three times. Turn it off. Turn it on.
Except there was no knob in front of her. There was no bathroom. She was on a horse and having to hold still as she rode back towards the Miller house.
It seemed to take an eternity to get there, and when she did, she about ran from the barn to her car, grabbing her wipes from her glove compartment and practically scrubbing the skin of her face off.
She needed to be clean. She had to be clean.
She needed to breathe. To calm down.
In through her nose. Out through her mouth. In through her nose. Hold it in her belly. Out through her mouth. She was fine. Discomfort was not lethal. It was okay to be upset. It was okay to be grossed out and to have her skin crawl. None of those things would kill her.
But she needed to get to the church. She was losing control like she hadn’t in a very long time, and nothing quite centered her like the quiet in the church sanctuary. The presence she felt. Like there was something more. That there was a purpose for everything, and she wasn’t alone.
She went much faster than she should have, but thankfully the few cops in their town seemed to be occupied, because she made it to the parking lot without being stopped. She practically sprinted out of her car and went straight for the women’s bathroom.
She burst through the door but skidded to a stop to close it all the way. Before she could think about it, her hand tapped on the handle three times and she flicked the light.
No. That was bad. Sh
e wasn’t supposed to give in to the rituals. It was a slippery slope and once she started sliding, it was oh so difficult to stop.
Cutting herself off, she rushed to the sink and turned the water on full blast. She allowed herself a moment to be proud that she didn’t fiddle with the faucets beyond that, and stuck her hands in.
She spent a good five minutes there, just washing and washing and washing until both her hands and face started to hurt. Breathing deeply, she stood and reached for the paper towels that weren’t exactly soft.
She was in the middle of drying herself off when the door opened again, and she recognized the pastor’s wife coming in.
“Oh, Keiko, my dear! I didn’t expect to see you. You normally take today off. Are you joining us for our prayer circle?”
Prayer circle? Now that sounded like something she could use. Keiko nodded, and the pastor’s wife smiled warmly at her. “Well, what a treat. I do have to say, I don’t know what we’d do without you sometimes. You make such a difference here. I don’t think I’ve ever met a young one who was so obviously in touch with the Lord.”
“You really think that?” Keiko murmured, feeling far shakier than she had in a long time. If she was really one with the Lord, why was her mind still flashing to Bryant standing in her living room with no shirt? Why did she wonder what it would be like to taste the sinful apple he was extending to her? Those feelings didn’t seem like something a woman who was secure in her faith was supposed to feel.
“Of course, dear. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. We’re in the fellowship room, why don’t you run along and I’ll catch up?”
Keiko nodded and guided herself out. Surprisingly, the woman’s words seemed to have worked as a sort of salve, bolstering her so she felt less like she was teetering on the edge. She was able to find the room and settled into a chair, calmly greeting the other women present.
It didn’t take long for Mrs. Faltstaff to join them, and soon all of their heads were bowed. It was Mrs. Csapo who said the opening prayer, that took quite a few minutes, but then it was time for everyone to silently go through their own conversations with God.
Keiko was well aware that to outside people, it probably looked silly, but she didn’t care. She reached down inside of her, tugging on that connection that burned so brightly in the still and peace of the church.
She asked for strength. She asked for guidance. She prayed for his grace that she wasn’t doing wrong and overstepping her bounds. She prayed for wisdom.
And most of all she prayed for Bryant.
Because no matter what ended up happening, the fact of the matter was that he was in pain and unhappy. If there was anyone who could fix that, it was the big man himself.
By the time the whole thing wrapped up, she was feeling much better. Solid and secure and ready to face so many of the challenges that came with life. She said her goodbyes and readied to head back to her apartment, when her forgotten phone rang in her pocket.
It was a short buzz, singular and strong, which meant it was a text. Good. That was something she could ignore. But then it buzzed again. And then again.
While Keiko wasn’t attached to her phone like some were, she couldn’t ignore that, so she reached in and pulled it out. When she saw Bryant’s name across the top, she felt her good mood falter.
Can we talk?
9
Bryant
If someone had asked Bryant a week ago if he would ever allow himself to be stuck on a single woman, he would have laughed right in their face. But that was exactly what had happened to him. In the days after his hasty retreat from Keiko’s house, he had found himself thinking about her nonstop.
He guessed that maybe it was because he wasn’t used to people resisting his charms. Well, ignoring his charisma like it didn’t exist, without acting like they outright hated him. Somehow, Keiko treated him with respect as a fellow adult while also telling him that she didn’t entirely agree with how he conducted himself, which was such an alien experience that his mind wouldn’t let him shake it.
To be completely honest, he hadn’t expected her to answer his texts. And if she hadn’t, he would have let it be. He wasn’t going to be one of those creepy guys who didn’t get the hint and harassed a woman for not bowing to his whims. But to his great astonishment, she did indeed answer, and that was how he ended up waiting for her in the middle of a Bistro in the city.
And the reason he was waiting for her was because she had turned down his offer of picking her up and insisted that she drive herself. He guessed that it took a certain amount of trust to get into a car with a strange man, and he had lost what trust he had before with his stunt in her apartment.
He had just taken off his shirt, something he did every time he went to the beach. But he definitely found himself wishing that he had thought that part through more thoroughly.
He supposed that Keiko could change her mind and not show up, but that didn’t seem like her. If she didn’t want to come, she wouldn’t have agreed to it.
Or at least he hoped so, but as the minutes ticked by, he began to worry more and more.
Ugh. Since when did he worry about being stood up? His entire world had been flipped upside down, and he resented it. He had worked hard to make his life exactly how he wanted it. It wasn’t right for her to just swing right in and break all his rules.
“You look like you’re thinking entirely too hard.”
He looked up from the table, surprised to see Keiko there, smiling politely at him. “That’s not something I’m often accused of.”
“Huh, I wonder why.”
To his great relief, she set her purse down and sat, picking up a menu to look it over. “I’ve heard your brothers talk about this place, but I’ve never actually had a chance to come here.”
“Well, I’m glad to be the one to treat you then.”
“Oh, you’re treating me? So I should order the most expensive thing on the menu then?”
“If that’s what you want,” he said, sagging internally as the tension drained from him. If Keiko was bantering with him, that had to mean that he hadn’t completely exiled himself from her grace. “I figure that’s a good first step towards an apology.”
“Oh?” she murmured, keeping her voice remarkably still. “You need to apologize?”
“Yeah, I would have thought that part was obvious.”
“It is, but that doesn’t mean I expected it.”
“Well, allow me to raise your expectations.”
Bryant found it so bizarre how whenever he tried to be smooth with Keiko, it always blew up in his face. But when he just talked to her like a normal conversation, it flowed with an ease that was almost second nature. To him, he felt like the air was crackling all around him with attraction and curiosity, but Keiko always seemed cool as a cucumber with only ever a polite amount of interest in the conversation.
It didn’t make sense, none of it made sense, especially not the way he swallowed hard when she affixed him with a soft, genuine grin.
“In that case, I am glad you reached out. It takes maturity to be proactive about an apology.”
Huh. There was another compliment. She was being strangely nice to him considering he’d made her freak so much she’d kicked him out of her house. Her reaction was entirely different from what he was expecting. Whenever he ticked off his family, a solid three months would pass where no one would let it go, bringing it up over and over again any chance they got.
“Do you have any recommendations?”
“Well, I’m a fan of their smoky brisket. The barbeque sauce on it is delicious, and there’s about four different sorts of cheese.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like things that will make my hands messy.”
“Oh, all right. So, knife and fork, fair enough.” Bryant quickly ran through everything he usually ate there, and he never realized how much he often ate with his hands. “Um… I think… their pumpkin ravioli is pretty good.”
She nodded but conti
nued to study the menu.
It felt surprisingly natural to sit there quietly, just in each other’s presence as they decided what they wanted to eat. When the server came to take their order, it almost startled Bryant, he had been so at peace and calm. That was unusual for him. It always felt like his head was spinning off in some direction, thinking about either work, or his next expansion, or where he was going to get his next thrill.
Strange.
In the end, he ordered what was basically a fancy version of an appetizer sampler and the rib platter for himself, while Keiko went with a chicken breast dish. It was the first boring thing she had done.
He also noticed that she didn’t order any alcohol. He got himself a single stout, but she just got water.
Not soda.
Water.
Interesting.
And by interesting, he meant not at all.
He’d taken plenty of women out to a lot of amazing places, and there was a certain trend he was familiar with that Keiko was beginning to present.
Some women, mostly because of society’s stupid obsession with thinness, didn’t like to eat anything substantial in front of a man they were trying to impress. It was something he found kind of annoying, and he was beginning to think that maybe Keiko was doing all that.
The good thing was that meant that she was actively trying to impress him. The bad thing was that it was annoying, trite, and predictable. Maybe he’d overestimated her?
Or maybe he was just overthinking everything. Maybe he was trying to find a fault in her so she felt more on his level.
“I can see you thinking again,” she said, tilting her head and looking him over.
Bryant had been given the elevator eyes plenty of times in his life, but it usually carried a much different connotation. With Keiko, it felt like she was looking inside of him, into all the little cracks and cervices he had inside that were hidden by his carefully curated and polished veneer.