by Juanita Kees
“Grandad?” His eyebrows shot up making his forehead wrinkle. “You’re pushing your luck. There’s like … what? Five or six years between us?”
“Six years and a metal step.” Charlie took a step backward up the stairs which brought her almost eye level with his bewitchingly blue eyes. “What are we looking for up there?”
“Paperwork from the time my grandparents set the authorities on Dad to try and have us taken away from him. I thought it might prove helpful in your case as research.” His grimace said everything about the painful memories that would be released when he opened that box on the past.
She stopped, her hand on his chest, his heart beating under her palm, her teasing mood evaporating. She’d seen his struggle and come over to distract him, help him the way he was helping her, to face whatever stopped his progress into the past. “You’d do that for me?”
Chase nodded. “I know what it would have done to us as a family if we’d been split up. I don’t want that to happen to you, Charlie. We grew up without a mom. As much as we love Dad, and Molly stepped in to do what she could, it wasn’t the same. Trinity will never know the love of her mother. I’d hate for Zoe to grow up the same way.”
His words touched her in a way she’d never been touched before, slamming into her heart with a force that made it ache and swell at the same time. No one had ever cared for her the way Chase did. She’d never had anyone take her side this way. Certainly no one, not even her friends, had ever faced up to their own demons to help her out.
“You’re one of a kind, Chase Calhoun. I think they broke the mold when they made you. It’s incredibly sexy.”
His bright blue gaze, so perfectly matched with his polo shirt, captured hers and held. There was no point resisting when the only words she could find would be better off put into action. Charlie raised her arms around his neck, one hand in his hair, leaned into his chest and pressed her lips to his. His mouth opened in surprise and she took advantage of the moment to put her soul into the kiss—every ounce of gratitude, every grain of respect she held for him, and a piece of her heart she’d never given to anyone else.
In that kiss, it didn’t matter if he wanted forever or not, or if he was only offering friendship and support. It mattered that, with every action, every gesture, every kiss, she fell a little deeper, grew a little more. Loved him for lighting her path, for helping her make her future and Zoe’s achievable without controlling it for her.
His arms tightened around her, holding her closer still, until every surface of their bodies touched, melting into each other as his hands explored her back and hers kept him where she needed him most. Time, surroundings, ghosts, memories, and challenges faded. All she could see and feel, and inhale was Chase. All she knew was that, with him, she was complete. One whole new person. A dangerous, scary thought when everything could still come crashing down and her fairy tale could turn into a nightmare.
*
“Steady on, Pyro. He’s not a Lamborghini you can set alight, and the fire extinguisher is on the other side of the room. I’ll never get to it in time to put out the flames, for God’s sake.”
Mason, the voice of reason and his annoying middle brother, had Chase drawing back reluctantly from Charlie’s kiss. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her up those stairs, find the back seat of the Charger and lose himself in her sweet taste. But that would be irresponsible madness. He cast a glance Mason’s way. A can of beans in one hand and a spoon in the other, his brother returned his look with one that asked, “What are you waiting for?”
“Butt out, Mason.”
“Fine. Take it upstairs, kids. There’s a box of condoms in row A, on the top shelf next to the bucket of bolts.”
Chase sighed. “I don’t even want to know why that is, but maybe you should take your own advice sometime.”
Mason spooned some of the contents of the can into his mouth and chewed, one eyebrow pitched and a wicked gleam in his eye. If he didn’t know better, Chase would think his brother had finally gotten over Paige and moved on. Except he knew that the box of condoms hadn’t been touched since Paige left town and no girl other than Charlie had been back here in a long time. Not since the night of Mitch’s accident. And the teasing gleam in Mason’s eyes was a cover-up for the pain of guilt.
“And give up the freedom to do what I want? Oh, hell no.” But he looked into the rapidly emptying can instead of at Chase, which shouted that every word that passed his lips was a lie. He dropped the spoon into the can and raised it in a toast. “You kids go and have fun up there with the dust mites. Watch out for any stray fox squirrels. I hear fall is the perfect time for them to gather nuts.”
Charlie reached out and tugged hard at Mason’s hair. “Brat.”
He rubbed the spot and shot her an injured look. “Ow. What was that for?”
“You need me to make a list? Go help your dad. He’s trying to take that tailgate off your pickup by himself. You don’t want him getting hurt, do you?”
“No, ma’am.” Mason snapped a cheeky salute of compliance in her direction.
Chase shook his head. In a short space of time, Charlie had made a big difference in their lives. His father had a new spring in his step despite the disease beginning to restrict his movements. Mason had made progress Chase had never thought possible, and Molly—sweet some days, gruff the next—had been reduced to a cooing puddle of grandmotherly softness over the soft bundle of blankets that was Zoe. He didn’t want to think about the change she’d brought to him or how good she felt in his arms.
“Great,” Mason mumbled good-naturedly as he walked away. “Now I have two mothers telling me what to do.”
But the quirk of his smile took the heat out of Mason’s words. She’d changed all of them. In that moment, the memories in the attic no longer hurt, the guilt and blame of the accident Mason carried with him daily, dissipated. And the pain of eventually losing their father too seemed almost bearable. Brought about by a girl who’d thumbed her nose at the world. He couldn’t imagine Charlotte the rebel, when all he saw was Charlie, his green-eyed girl who’d crept into their lives and done more in a week for them than the whole town had tried to do for years. Mason turned and walked away. Charlie tugged on Chase’s shirt for attention and he gave it to her with a smile and touch to her cheek.
“Are you sure you’re not a witch?”
She laughed. “It is on the list of things I’ve been called.” Then she tugged on his hand. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”
This time there was no hesitation in his step, no memories swirling in his head making his feet heavy and his heart ache. Only Charlie, ahead of him, all curves, tight denim, and perfumed goodness, messing with his concentration and raising a different ache entirely.
At the top of the stairs, she turned to him. “Which way and what am I looking for?”
His gaze went to the top shelf of row A and the box next to the bucket of bolts. He looked back at her with a goofy grin that earned him a slap on the arm before he answered, “Two rows down, middle shelf, the box marked ‘legal bullshit’.” He held up his hands in defense. “Dad’s labeling skills, not mine. I guess that’s what he thought of the whole case.”
“What was she like, Chase? Your mom.”
He closed his eyes to picture her. “Sweet. Funny. Strict. She had to be with four boys and a girl so close together in age—me, Mason, then the twins, Grace and Carter, then Mitch. Only a few months after Mitch was born, she got pregnant again. Too soon, but she was so happy when she found out, it didn’t matter.”
“How come you lived here above the garage and not at the ranch like you all do now?”
“Dad was away a lot while he was still racing. This was all still a dream he was building. He figured it was easier for her to be closer to town with small children and a baby on the way. It was also more convenient when he came home so that he could spend time with the family while he worked on his custom builds without driving to and from the ranch.”
“Does it though?” He ran his hand along the rim of the cardboard box. “If we’d stayed at the ranch, she wouldn’t have fallen down the stairs, she wouldn’t have had the injuries she did, and we’d still have a mother.”
Charlie placed her hand over his to still the movement. “You don’t know that for sure, Chase. Accidents happen anywhere.”
He refused to look at her. “It was my fault she fell.”
“What do you mean?”
He leaned his forehead against the cool steel of the racks, his arm above his head. “She’d nagged us to tidy up that day. She wasn’t feeling well. The pregnancy made her tired, more so as she got near the end of it. She’d suffered morning sickness from start to finish. Her blood iron levels were too low, she was on vitamins and medication, lacked energy. When she went to lie down, I got distracted by the television and forgot all about cleaning up like she asked me to.” He raised his head. “She got up to go to the bathroom downstairs. She tripped over the toys at the top of the landing and fell. I heard her scream, found her at the bottom of the staircase, curled up in pain, battered by the metal steps, a gash in her head and blood and fluid pooling around her.” The memory of finding her that way flickered in his head, a horror movie frozen in that scene.
Charlie’s arms came around him, her body warming his back, her face pressed between his shoulder blades. “Oh, Chase!”
“I did what I could, but it was too late.” He turned and let her hug him closer, feeling the comfort of her warmth against him as ice chilled his blood. “The doctor said she was already in labor when she fell, not that it changed anything. She’d hit her head hard going down and fractured her skull. Epidural hematoma. Even if she’d lived, she’d have had no quality of life hooked up to life support. It was a miracle that Trinity survived.”
“That’s so sad. But just like what happened with Mitch, it was an accident. And I know hearing that won’t make you feel better, but, God, I hope that one day you’ll believe it and forgive yourself. How old were you?”
“I’d just turned ten.”
She hugged him harder, her cheek to his chest. “If only we could go back in time and change things. I don’t know how to fix you, Chase.”
He held her tight, her hair smelling like fresh apples as he pressed his lips to it and felt the goodness of Charlie steer the sad memories away. He had an uncanny feeling his mother was smiling. “I think you may already have.”
Chapter Twelve
Charlie eased out of Chase’s arms. She couldn’t stay there, no matter how much she wanted to. There was too much at stake to let herself get lost in him. At least she’d given him some small comfort. It had to be enough. She turned and made her way through the rows until she found the box they were looking for. She traced Marty’s strong writing with her finger.
“You’d raise old memories to help me? This wouldn’t have been a happy time for your family.”
“Even though I was too young to understand most of it, I knew we couldn’t let the authorities separate us. That would have finished Dad off for sure. Lucky we had Molly to help.” He smiled as he reached for the box. “Molly was a spirited being back then. She still is. And very protective of us. She’s fielded some nasty gossip from the locals over the years on our behalf.”
“She’s sweet. Zoe seems to like her.”
Chase lifted the box down. “Yeah, she’s a treasure. Come on, let’s see if there’s anything in here to help us.” He nodded toward the stairs. “Be careful going down, okay.”
Charlie smiled. “How about you go first? That way if I fall, I have something to land on.”
Chase laughed, the sound coming from deep in his chest as it wiped the sadness from his eyes. “Deal.”
She followed him into the office and watched as he lifted the lid on the past. She couldn’t begin to imagine the pain the memories would raise for Marty, and for Chase.
“Are you sure your dad is okay with this?” Charlie shifted on her feet.
“It was his idea.”
“Thank you. You have a unique family. Not many people would be prepared to help me out.”
“This is a different world, honey.” He pulled out a bundle of papers, yellowed around the edges. “You’re different too.”
Charlie smiled, her heart lifting a little. “I guess I have changed.”
“You only need to look around you to see the difference you’ve made here.” He pointed out the window into the garage. “There’s a sight I’d never thought I’d see again. That’s proof right there of how much you’ve changed.”
She looked up from the box to see Mason helping his father take the lining out of the back of the pickup. “He’s working on it.”
“Yeah. Before you showed him that sketch, Mason wouldn’t even look at the pickup unless it was to take the annual hammer to it. That night we went up the hill, something shifted for all of us. We all kinda took a step forward.”
“You can’t think a simple sketch could have changed anything for you?”
“You have a talent, Charlie. You capture more than you realize in your art. You interpret things through it that no one has ever achieved before. Mason recognized something in that design that resonated with him, that flicked a switch we haven’t been able to activate. You did that. The design you did for Carter? We’d tried a few artists and not one of them was able to capture the essence and spirit in the purpose of the ranch. Yet you took one look and created the perfect design. That’s a gift.”
“Thank you.” She reached up to kiss his cheek. “I wish my father could see it that way.”
“He will. Once word gets around you’re designing for us, we’ll have to fight to keep you. Everyone will want a Charlotte Jackson design.” He slipped his arm around her for a quick hug just as the laptop on the desk alerted him to a call coming in. “That’s Trinity. I bet she’ll want one too.”
Charlie shifted to move away as he clicked on the answer icon, but his hold on her tightened gently as if he wasn’t quite ready to let her go. Uncertainty snaked through her. If Chase’s sister recognized her and talked about it in track circles, her father would know exactly where she was rather than a location near the closest satellite tower. But the chances of recognition were slim when she looked a lot different now. She couldn’t hide forever. And if Trinity was coming home any time soon, her cover would be blown anyway.
“Hello, Mother.” Trinity’s grin filled the screen before she backed up, so they could see her face in full. “Oh, and hello pretty blonde girl. Chase Calhoun, have you been holding out on me? When did you find yourself a girlfriend?”
“Oh … we’re not … I’m not …” What was she to him exactly? A friend? An employee?
“Hey, brat. A bit more respect for my very talented design artist, thanks.”
Trinity snorted and pushed her racing suit down to her waist. “That’s why you’re hugging her?”
“If you could see her work, you’d hug her too. Trinity, meet Charlie. Charlie, this is my baby sister. She’s the one currently terrorizing NASCAR drivers nationwide.”
“And beating them too.” Trinity peered into the screen. “Wait a minute. You look familiar. Have we met before?”
“No.” Not exactly the truth, Charlotte. There had been that one time. At the same party where she’d set Ronan’s car alight. Charlie crossed her fingers and prayed.
“Oh. My. God.” Trinity’s eyes widened in recognition, excitement threading through her voice. “I almost didn’t recognize you without the purple hair, piercings, and black leather. Charlotte Jackson, do you know your father is looking everywhere for you? He has every police precinct on high alert, there’s a private detective out there somewhere trying to track you down, and a psychiatrist on standby to have you committed. Your father’s claiming you’ve had a complete mental breakdown and that you’re dangerous. The gossip’s all over the team refreshment tent.”
“Trinity, please tell
me you’re calling from somewhere private.” Chase’s hold on Charlie loosened, his forehead drawing down into a frown.
She held her breath, anger clutching at her chest, her mind unwilling to believe her father would go to such lengths to discredit her.
“My trailer. Paige is here though.” She peered into the screen again. “Wow, you don’t look crazy, Charlotte.”
“Trinity, I’m swearing you and Paige to secrecy. You can’t tell anyone where Charlie is, okay?”
“No way. Her brother is a sanctimonious asshole and her father is a rude, obnoxious pig.”
Charlie winced.
“Still, show a little respect, brat,” Chase scolded his sister. “We might not like what he’s doing, but he is still Charlie’s father.”
“You’re right. Sorry, Charlotte. It just irks me that he can say the things he’s saying, and people will believe it because it comes from the mouth of the great Tony Jackson. I’ve been issued a penalty in this heat because Ronan and Tony are claiming I made a false start. He says I was already rolling when the flag went up. They’re reviewing it now.”
“That doesn’t sound good.” Chase leaned forward, his hands on either side of the laptop, his hip brushing Charlie’s leg.
She should move away, but his warmth gave her comfort. Ronan wouldn’t hold back. He was a sore loser. “I’m sorry, Trinity.”
“Not your fault, honey. I’ll deal with him. Not quite in the same way you dealt with his Lamborghini, but, hey, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve to show him who is the better driver.” She laughed. “I’m really curious to know how you came to be hiding in my father’s garage, though.”
Charlie smiled at Chase. “Long story.”
Chase smiled back, his gaze holding hers, his hand at her back before he turned his face to the screen again. “One we’re not going to go into with you right now, brat.”
“Oh!” Trinity drew the word out. “It’s like that, is it? Ha.”