by Liz Isaacson
“That’s great,” Dr. Richards said. “How do you feel about the at-risk program? The boys are tougher, more street-wise.” Dr. Richards drew Sterling away as they chattered, and Norah watched them go.
She retrieved her dress from the car and went into the bathroom to change. She texted Sterling that she’d meet him in the car whenever he was ready, and tied her trench coat around her dress.
She’d almost made it out the front door when another counselor came through it. Lori whistled at Norah’s red heels. “Where are you off to?”
“Nowhere,” Norah lied, clutching the coat tighter.
Lori raised one eyebrow, something Norah usually appreciated—when it was directed at someone else. “Looks like you have a date.”
Norah allowed herself to smile. “Maybe I do.”
“Norah!” Lori squealed and rushed her, batting away her hands and opening the coat so she could see the little black dress Norah had pulled from the back of her closet.
“Oh, honey, you look fantastic. Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Just some guy I met last week.” Norah heard the false tone in her voice. Sterling was anything but “some guy.”
“You must really like him. I’ve never known you to go out with anyone.”
And Lori would know, because her brother had been interested in Norah the previous summer, and Norah had turned him down over and over. And over. Guilt still needled her about that from time to time.
“He’s okay.” Norah shrugged. “It’s our first date.” She pulled her coat closed and buttoned it. “Please don’t make a big deal about it.”
Lori shook her blonde head. “Oh, it’s a big deal! Norah, when did you decide to date again?” Only concern rode in her friend’s voice, or Norah would’ve been annoyed.
“I haven’t, not really.”
Lori looked down at the three-inch red heels with the bow-embellished strap. “Um, this looks like you’ve decided to start dating again. I thought you didn’t want to get married.”
“I don’t.” And Norah didn’t feel bad for speaking that truth.
Lori appraised her, and Norah didn’t like the disbelief in her friend’s eyes. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
Lori brightened. “Promise?”
Norah giggled. “You have a boyfriend. I don’t know why you’re so interested in this.”
“We’ve been together too long,” Lori said. “I’m thinking about breaking up with him.”
“You are?” Norah stalled in her escape, one hand on the doorknob.
Tears shone in Lori’s eyes. “I’ll tell you about it later. Have fun on your date.” Lori moved away, and Norah pushed through the door just as her phone vibrated in her pocket.
Sterling had arrived at the car, wondering where she was. Instead of typing a response, she hurried into the parking lot, nearly going down on a patch of black ice.
“Sorry,” she said. “I saw a friend and we got talking.” She unlocked the car, but he didn’t get in.
He stared at her feet before his eyes traveled to hers. “What’s under the coat?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teased as she moved around the car and sank into the driver’s seat.
He got in and adjusted his injured leg. “Yes, I would.” He reached for the hem of her coat, but she gently batted his hand away.
“You’ll have to be patient.”
He chuckled, this time without a trace of nerves, and the sound made the hair on the back of Norah’s neck stand up in anticipation.
“You’ll have to tell me where Migliano’s is.”
He directed her there, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel with every turn that brought them closer to the restaurant. She parked behind the building, a historic marker in Gold Valley that had been restored a decade ago.
Sterling waved away her help this time, but as soon as he’d found his balance, she tucked her hand into his elbow as much for his benefit as for hers.
He held the door open for her and stepped to the hostess. “I’m Sterling Maughan. I called about a reservation.”
“Of course, Mister Maughan.” She collected two menus. “Right this way.”
Because she was trying to take everything in, Norah could hardly keep up with Sterling, and he moved at the speed of a snail. The ambiance of the restaurant screamed romance, from the low lamp light on each table, the cloth napkins, the tall champagne flutes. Saucy music played in the background, and the floor sported beige carpet with red roses woven through it.
If she’d had any doubts about this being a date, the décor of Migliano’s would’ve eradicated them.
“Here you are.” The hostess waited until both Norah and Sterling had sat, then she opened the menu for them.
“Thank you.” Sterling flashed her a blinding smile, and she walked away. He focused on Norah. “Oh, dang. You forgot to take off your coat.” His grin would’ve made the Cheshire Cat seem sane. He slid out of the booth. “Let me help you.”
Norah swallowed and stood, unbuttoning her coat with frozen fingers. She shrugged out of the coat, Sterling’s warm hands sliding over her shoulders as he took the jacket. His touch sent skitters down her back, and she shivered as attraction tiptoed through her.
Norah tugged on the bottom of the dress to get it to reach her knees, her skin as prickly as if she’d been doused with cold water.
But one look at Sterling’s face, and all ideas about the cold thawed under the heat in his gaze.
He stepped into her personal space, his arm sliding around her waist like he’d done it countless times. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he whispered, “Dang, Norah. You look great.”
“Thank you.” She gripped his elbows to keep herself upright as he lingered in the embrace.
“Okay.” He cleared his throat. “That was worth the wait.” Sterling released her, slid into the booth, and turned his attention to the menu.
Norah copied him, but not before she noticed the flush that had crawled up his neck and stained his cheeks. “What’s good here?” she asked.
“The better question is what isn’t good here?”
Norah set down her menu, embracing her daring side. The daring side of her that wore tight, black dresses with red heels. The daring side of her that went out with handsome men.
“Order something for me, then,” she said, enjoying the kick of his mouth as he smiled and tried to hide it.
“You want me to order for you?”
Norah leaned her elbows on the table. “I think it’d be fun, don’t you?”
6
Sterling ordered the crab cakes as an appetizer, studied Norah for a few seconds to enjoy the shape of her mouth as he fumbled for what she’d like to drink. He finally came up with, “Diet Coke for her. I’ll take Mountain Dew.”
Norah ducked her head, her curls bouncing. Sterling wanted to touch her hair, find out if it felt as soft as it looked. “Of course,” she murmured.
He focused on the waitress. “And I need a couple of minutes to order the rest.”
“No problem. I’ll get this appetizer in and bring your drinks.”
Sterling focused on the menu as she walked away, his fantasies about holding and kissing Norah eradicating the words in front of him. He liked her—liked the way she looked and smelled and acted. He appreciated her, from the way she took care of him to the confessions about her taking care of her family. He wondered what sacrifices she’d made to be there at dinner with him.
But what would she like to eat? Images of bland soup and flat bread floated through his mind. Probably not something spicy, though the Italian fare didn’t promise such things anyway.
Maybe lasagna. Chicken parmesan. Fettuccine Alfredo?
The waitress returned and Sterling still hadn’t decided.
“You ready to order?”
He slapped his menu closed and met Norah’s eye. She smirked at him, her hands folded over her already closed menu.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll take the beef and mush
room ravioli.” He glanced at Norah and swallowed. “And she’ll have the eggplant parmesan, with fettuccine Alfredo instead of spaghetti.”
“It’s a dollar extra to switch out the pasta.”
Sterling waved his hand. “No problem.”
Across from him, Norah stiffened, her intoxicating eyes dropping to the tabletop for a moment.
“Those crab cakes will be right out.” The waitress collected their menus and left, leaving Sterling alone with Norah. He’d dreamt of this dinner for two straight days, but somehow now, he couldn’t seem to get his voice to work.
“So you think you’ll like working at Silver Creek?” Norah lifted her soda to her lips.
Sterling watched, mesmerized. When she caught him staring, heat flashed up his neck and into his face. He needed to get himself together, and fast. “Yeah, I think so.” He absently rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m worried about riding though. I can’t even drive.” The back of his throat felt sticky and he reached for his drink.
“You have a while.” Norah smiled at him, her presence and attitude comforting. “The position doesn’t open up for six more weeks.”
“Yeah.” Sterling reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I’ll ask the doctor about it when I go next week.” He grinned at the blush staining her cheeks. She obviously liked him too. The feeling between them had been two-sided, Sterling was sure of that.
“So did I get your order right?”
She twisted her hand and slid her fingers into his. “Did you call my brother or something?”
Sterling chuckled. “No. I swear,” he added as her mouth hardened into a disbelieving line. “I didn’t. Call him right now and ask him.”
A smile softened her lips, and Sterling couldn’t tear his gaze from them. Could he kiss her tonight, after this date? He hated that she’d come to get him, that he couldn’t take her home and walk her to her front door. A rush of inadequacy flowed through him, and he almost removed his hand from hers.
“I always substitute spaghetti for Alfredo,” she said. “I mean, I’ve never been anywhere this nice.” She glanced around, and Sterling finally recognized the emotion streaming from her eyes. Insecurity.
Her words about caring for her family, going to school at night, and cleaning cabins on the weekends haunted him. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought her to the nicest restaurant in town. Why hadn’t he realized she wouldn’t be comfortable here?
Sterling glanced around, wondering how to escape this situation. He glanced at Norah, who’d erased the emotion from her eyes. Helplessness cascaded through his core. “But you like eggplant parmesan?”
A glint entered her eyes. “One of my favorites.”
Satisfaction sang through Sterling. “So you think I can be strong enough to ride in six weeks?”
“Ask the doctor,” Norah said as the waitress arrived with a steaming plate of crab cakes. “And you can come down and work with the horses until you’re ready to ride one.” She turned her attention to the food. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. This looks fantastic, and I don’t even like seafood.”
Sterling’s heart dropped and leapt at the same time. He wanted Norah to like the food. He wanted to spend time with her. At the same time, he realized that the woman across from him didn’t really fit his mother’s idea of a wife.
He pushed the thought away. He’d never been overly concerned about fitting into his mother’s mold, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now—especially when the beautiful creature across from him soothed his soul so completely.
“It’s not as strong as I would’ve hoped.” Dr. Henshaw made a note on Sterling’s chart while Rex thumbed through something on his phone. “You’ve been doing the physical therapy exercises I asked you to?”
Shame filled Sterling. “Well, I didn’t really start until about a week and a half ago.”
Dr. Henshaw exhaled as he set the folder down. “Well, that’s why. Your leg will only get better if you use it.”
Rex glanced up at the admonishing tone, his eyes sharp and probing.
Sterling looked at the scars on his leg. “Got it. I’ll do them, I promise.” The promise of riding at Silver Creek, of holding Norah’s hand and strolling down the street, filled his mind.
“You’re tolerating the pain okay?”
“It’s manageable, as long as I don’t miss my meds.”
“I don’t want you on such hard painkillers for much longer.” Dr. Henshaw reached for his prescription pad. “Let’s take you down to a high dose of ibuprofen and see if that’s enough.”
Sterling nodded, his stomach a tangled knot of nerves. He half-wished he hadn’t asked Rex to come in with him. Drive him, sure. But he could’ve waited out in the front.
“So I have a question.” Sterling barely squeezed the words out of his too-tight throat.
The doctor barely glanced up, finishing his signature with a flourish before focusing on Sterling.
“How long until I can do things? You know, climb the stairs, drive a car, ride a horse….”
Dr. Henshaw handed him the prescription, and Sterling almost crushed it in his fist. “You should be climbing stairs now. Get your leg back to its normal range of motion. Driving…let’s wait on that another few weeks. I want you back in here in three, and if you’re doing your therapy, I can probably clear you to drive then.”
Relief slashed through Sterling. Only three more weeks. If he’d known how much the physical therapy mattered, he might not have neglected it so thoroughly. Even as he thought so, he knew he was wrong. It wasn’t the physical pain that kept him from moving, from doing anything, from caring.
It was the mental anguish. The emotional turmoil.
He swallowed as Dr. Henshaw continued. “As for riding a horse, I suppose you can do that as long as the pain is tolerable. But I think it’ll be too painful for a while. Too much movement.”
“What about if it’s just in a riding circle?” Sterling had cued up a few YouTube videos over the past few days. Introduction to riding, that sort of thing. Most people started on a slow horse, in a small circle. It hadn’t looked too terribly difficult. Then again, Sterling was used to flying down mountains with a board strapped to both his feet.
“Do what feels right,” Dr. Henshaw said. “It’s your body. You need to listen to it. It’ll tell you if you shouldn’t be doing something.” He touched Sterling’s hip. “It’s the hip I’m worried about with a horse. It might not be able to rotate that way yet.”
The appointment concluded, and Sterling scheduled to come back in three weeks, his mind rotating around whether he should try riding right away, or just go to Silver Creek and learn general horse care, as Norah had suggested.
I’ll call Owen, he decided as he left the office. He hadn’t even buckled his seatbelt before Rex asked, “You want to ride a horse?”
Annoyance sang through Sterling. He didn’t want to explain anything to his brother, though he had driven three hours round-trip just to get to the doctor’s office. And he’d put in another three hours before he delivered Sterling at home and returned to his own house.
“Yeah,” Sterling said. “I’m thinking about taking a job at Silver Creek.” He wasn’t just thinking about it. In his mind, the job was a done deal. A smile chased a way all the previous annoyance.
“Silver Creek?” Rex’s disbelief screamed through the luxury car. “What’s at Silver Creek?”
Sterling managed to put him off with an answer about combining his law enforcement education with something less dangerous, but really, it wasn’t about what was at Silver Creek, but who.
Norah pulled into the garage at Six Sons Cabin, her nerves rioting against her. She wanted to be here. Wanted to take Sterling down to Silver Creek. Wanted to hold his hand, laugh with him, maybe kiss him at the conclusion of the afternoon.
She hadn’t gotten her kiss after dinner last week. She’d wanted it, and Sterling seemed like he did too, but the timing wasn’t right. Both of them had felt it, because
he’d told her to drop him off outside of the garage and he’d limped to the control panel to let himself in.
Norah had spent the next few hours lying in her dark bedroom, the feel of his hand in hers while the horror of bringing him home sliced through the fantasies of having a real relationship with him.
He hadn’t asked about coming to her house again. Nor had he mentioned needing her to take him to movies or entertain him. In fact, they’d only texted a few times. Once, a long string that lasted hours as he told her about the doctor’s visit. And again this morning as he asked her question after question about horseback riding.
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders as she moved through the house to the spiral staircase that led to the basement. A delightful scent of antiseptic tinted with flowers met her nose, and the tidiness in the living room testified that Sterling had spent time cleaning up his space.
Ignoring the pill bottles on the counter, Norah grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “Sterling? You ready?”
“Coming!” His voice sounded from behind his closed bedroom door. She’d downed half the bottle of water before he emerged, and she instantly wished she hadn’t.
The water sloshed against her stomach at the mere sight of him. Smelling like musky aftershave and minty toothpaste, he stood before her wearing a dark pair of jeans and a blue polo. A dark leather jacket covered most of that. His hair spiked in the front, glistening with gel or water, she wasn’t sure.
No matter what, he made her throat dry up and her legs feel like sinking to the ground.
“Hey.” He swept into her space, a joyous grin on his face. He put that strong arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her temple. “You are a sight for sore eyes.”
“How’s your leg?” Norah regretted the question. She should’ve giggled and flirted back. Maybe told him how amazing he looked, and smelled, and would probably taste. She swallowed. “I mean, thanks. You look great too.”
He chuckled, released her, and stepped toward the couch. “I just need my brace.”
“Are you really going to try to ride today?”
“The doctor said I could as long as the pain was tolerable.” He moved toward the kitchen. “Which reminds me….” He bypassed the orange bottles as he reached for a taller, white bottle. It still looked prescribed, and Sterling shook two pills into his palm before leaning over the kitchen faucet and swallowing them.