He leaned over with his elbows on his knees and looked straight ahead into the failing daylight, clasping his hands together. He wasn't convinced he'd held her hard enough to put those pieces together again but this didn't feel like the right place, especially with Sunny's memory so close at hand, and his motivations still unclear even to himself. They had a business relationship. She clearly had some sort of issue, and he was too fragile himself. And she'd be gone after they worked through her horse's problems. Back to Denver, to her job, and her family.
The quiet stretched out between them, disturbed only by the sound of the quiet breaths she took, until he heard her move and felt her hip bump against his. A second later, he felt her head on his shoulder.
*
Lily was hard pressed to keep her eyelids from drooping closed, especially once Finn got close. Those little 'episodes' she experienced from time to time drained her both physically and emotionally, and his big, warm body right there was hard to resist. It drew her like a magnet.
He didn't say a lot, but that was alright—how she preferred it, in fact. The slew of questions and concern that usually followed when someone witnessed her meltdowns, as she called them, was almost as exhausting as the event itself. No, she didn't know why she'd sweat and stutter and have flashbacks. She didn't know if she was okay. She couldn't articulate what someone could do to help her, even if she knew what it was she needed.
What Finn had done had helped, though. Somehow telling her she was alright instead of asking if she was had been reassurance, and when he'd closed his arms around her, she'd never felt safer.
She felt him shift under her cheek, and she thought, based on his hot-cold behavior since she'd arrived, this might be when he put her out. Instead, he shifted back, sliding his arm around her shoulders and arranging their bodies to draw her closer. She was aware of every part of him, from the warmth of his skin seeping through the rough denim fabric under her fingers, to the hard muscle of a man who worked long days, down to the faint smell of leather and horse that clung to him. It soothed her.
"Can you tell me what happened, Lily?"
For the first time since the round pen, she drew in a breath that felt like it filled her lungs, and let it out slowly. Her story came with it.
"We were prepping for a 50 mile race, but it had been so wet, all my woods trails were swamped, so we used the road." She felt his grip tighten around her. She could stop, if she wanted; that was the message she got. But she kept on—she owed him the truth. What had happened today with Encore proved it—he needed all the details if he was going to stay safe while working through the horse's issues. Already raw and vulnerable, it wouldn't hurt that much more. "I always wear high vis clothes so I can be seen, but the driver was texting. We were almost home. I checked behind me when I heard her and she was drifting toward the shoulder. We had nowhere to go.
"She saw us and had time to brake but she still hit us. I told you it pushed Encore out from under me and I landed on the bumper. The next thing I remember, I came to and they were strapping me to a stretcher."
She paused. When she stopped, Finn's hand made a slow trek up and down her bicep, soothing. She'd never gotten this far through the story; it usually stopped here, and picked up again at the hospital, where she could rehash the details with the same sorts of clinical terms the doctors had used. Finn's gentle touch was all the encouragement she needed. And he deserved to know why she'd insisted on staying, why she couldn't just give leave Encore and hope he came back a changed horse.
"There was blood all over the place, and he was in the ditch and couldn't get up. I wouldn't let them put me in the ambulance until Nate showed up with the vet, and I made him promise they would save my horse. I owe him everything for that."
The pain and fear were as close as they had been in the round pen, as close as they'd been on the day of the accident, but with his arm around her, they couldn't touch her.
"They cut the rigging on my saddle to get him out of the ditch. It was tangled in some alders—" She stopped, and straightened, looking up at Finn as it dawned on her. "Do you suppose that's why he went nuts today? He hasn't even been saddled since then."
Finn considered, tipping his head toward her. His features were soft, and sad, like the way he'd looked when he'd caught her looking at the photo of his wife.
"It's possible…" He cut his words off when the headlights of Noah's pick up slid over them. She half expected him to push her away. He straightened and let his arm slide down her arm, until he was no longer holding her, despite how close they still sat. She heard him draw in a breath he held for two beats, and then let out in one long, slow release. Though he'd been completely at ease just seconds before, this was clearly uncomfortable for him. He'd supported her through her discomfort, so she could do the same. Lily lifted her head, straightening and putting a bit of space between them. So it didn't look quite like what it had been. So Finn wouldn't have to answer to Noah and Emma's prying looks and questions.
The truck pulled into park between Finn's pick up and Emma's car and the couple climbed out. Tucker got up off the step to greet them, his stubby tail-wiggling spreading to his whole body.
"Hey!" Emma called out. "I thought you'd be in bed by now."
"Yeah, we were just talking about Encore, and the new plan of attack for working with him," Lily told her. Normally, she would be tucked in on the couch. Emma and Noah usually went to bed early, too, for the sake of getting up and getting work done in the morning. She would have been there now, if she hadn't gotten caught up in the warm embrace of this delicious-smelling man. She felt safe, and comfortable, for the first time in longer than she could remember.
"You get something figured out?"
"We'll keep working until we get it figured out," Finn said with a note of determination, then rose to his feet. Lily felt the loss of his body heat deeper than just at skin level. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned forward in much the same posture she'd been when Finn had found her. "I don't wanna keep you folks up; I'm going to head home."
He made no motion to leave, but stood at the bottom of the stairs.
"You guys go on, I'll be right in. Still settling my nerves." Lily offered Noah a reassuring smile, but his gaze had flickered between Finn and Lily a half dozen times. Emma might have missed it, but her husband had definitely seen Lily all tangled up in Finn when they pulled in.
"Have a good night," Noah said, looking hard again at his brother for a moment before he and Emma maneuvered past Lily on the stairs, then tapped his thigh for Tucker to follow them into the house.
She looked up at Finn when they were alone again. His tight jaw and furrowed brow were visible in the light from the windows of the cabin as Emma and Noah moved through it.
"You know my offer still stands."
She raised a brow, pressing her palms together between her knees until her fingers went numb. He tucked his hands in his pockets, and the quiet sank between them like a stone.
"I have a spare bedroom, and you have a need for it." He shrugged. "It's the least I can do after what I let happen to you."
—SIXTEEN—
Finn heard Noah's truck pull up in front of the cabin and took one last glance around the insides. He'd spent most of the night occupied with thoughts of what Lily might think of his home. For a long time, maybe too long, it had been his sanctuary, the place he could sit and think of his wife. Oh, he'd had company since Sunny's body had vacated—Noah, sleeping it off on the couch; Dane, during foaling season, so he didn't disturb Ren—but it wasn't quite the same. And while her body had vacated the home, he still shared it with every part of Sunny's spirit. She'd never been much for decorating, but there were a few things she'd put in place that he couldn't bring himself to move or get rid of. The rainbow colored decorative dish towels hanging over the handle of the oven door, for one. And that damn rooster tea kettle. He remembered the day she brought it home like it was yesterday. It was ugly, he'd protested, they'd settled it with a roun
d of long, slow love-making in the middle of the kitchen floor.
By the time he pulled himself out of the memories and out the door onto the porch, Noah was shouldering a duffle bag and Lily was climbing down out of the truck with a laptop case and her camera bag. He wiped his palms—sweaty, like a teenager on his first date—on the thighs of his jeans and tried to strike a nonchalant pose against one of the supporting beams of the covered porch.
A sweet smile broke over Lily's features when their eyes met and Finn's doubts disappeared. She had resisted on this, hard, but he could tell she was relieved. Between the riding, which he'd promised himself they wouldn't try again until she was feeling better physically, and the episode with Encore the day before, she could use a little bit of relaxation. And his place was quiet, because that's how he liked it—lots of opportunity for her to edit photos, and sleep in without being woken by what she'd dubbed the 'Tucker Tongue Alarm.'
It was a stretch for him to invite another woman into his home. Especially one he cared even a little about—nix that, this was the first time he'd cared enough for it to hit his radar; even if he had no business caring about her. She'd come here for a business relationship. Sure, she'd been aggressive about having a cordial working relationship, but that didn't mean she was going to climb out of her bed and into his in the night.
That thought stopped him in his tracks. Maybe his mother had been right, maybe he should have started pursuing relationships before he'd been a widower for nearly half a decade. He cleared his throat, shifting as Lily and Noah made their way up the three steps onto the porch with him. He pushed the door open and held it for them.
"Come on in," he said, watching Lily's reaction. He'd never felt self-conscious about the little house before, but suddenly, he felt like he was under a microscope. Could she see how much sorrow he'd wallowed in here? Would she be able to tell it had only been eighteen months ago he'd started sleeping through the nights? "It's not fancy, but here it is."
"It's the Ritz compared to our place," Noah insisted just as his phone ringer started to go off. He pulled a face and handed the duffle bag to Finn. "This is Mama, we've got an inventory shipment. You'll be alright?" He made eye contact and dipped his chin in Lily's direction and she nodded back. As quickly as he'd showed up, Noah left, the screen door falling shut behind him. And then they were alone. It was terrifying and thrilling all at once.
"I appreciate it, fancy or not," Lily said as she took in her surroundings. He tried to imagine what she was seeing, what she was thinking, as her eyes passed over the inside of the cabin.
It was a small spot; he'd always intended to expand on it when they had the time and money, but now he didn't have the need. The front part was open concept; living room to the left, with a love seat, a recliner, and the television. To the immediate right, the small eat-in kitchen with appliances lined up against the walls. The decor was sparse and rustic, exposed beam and barn board. The back half of the cabin housed the bedrooms, a short hall, and a small bathroom. A larger master bedroom that wasn't terribly spacious once you considered the queen bed and the dresser, and then the smaller room.
It had been intended as a nursery. It had been converted into an at-home hospice room when they'd told them there was nothing else they could do for Sunny but make her comfortable. She wasn't comfortable, and neither was he; sleeping in a separate room had been itchy and strange and he'd ended up sitting up in a chair beside her bed most nights. Sometimes in the bed with her. Eventually, she'd insisted he go back to the bedroom, but he slept light as a feather, waking every time he heard her shift or sigh in her sleep.
He crossed the main house with a few strides and pushed open the guest room door for her. "This is the spare room."
After they'd removed the rented hospital bed, Ella and Caine had furnished it with a small double bed, a dresser, and a desk, erasing any notion of what it had been intended to be or what it had been in its lifetime, and that was exactly how it stood now.
"Oh, this is great," Lily said, brushing past him so close he could smell her shampoo when she went. She deposited her laptop and camera on the desk and turned back to him for the duffle bag.
"Make yourself at home," he said, even though she'd clearly already started to. "You want a coffee?"
*
"Sure," Lily said, tucking her hands in her back pockets as she let her eyes wander over the interior of the room. It wasn't decorated like anything; maybe it had been a guest room all along. She drew in a big breath and then let it go. She could hardly wait to sprawl out on her stomach on the bed, and she was grateful Finn had insisted. It had become so second nature to refuse help and try to do things on her own she'd forgotten what it felt like to let someone else care.
It took her all of five minutes to unpack her bag of clothes and shove them into the drawer, and Finn was just pouring coffee into a pair of mugs on the table when she poked her head out the door.
It didn't take her long to cross the cabin into the kitchen; the place was tiny, not unlike Emma and Noah's. Finn moved through the small space of the kitchen, ferrying a sugar bowl and a carton of coffee cream between the counter and the table.
She paused at the stove, her eyes immediately drawn to the brightly colored tea towels and a chipped enameled tea kettle. It was white with a bright red spray of molded feathers for a handle and the spout was the open mouthed head of a rooster, as if he was crowing. Reaching out, she ran her fingertips over it, a small smile manifesting as she thought about Finn using it.
She noticed first that he'd stopped moving, and when her eyes flicked from the rooster to the man, he was standing almost next to her, looking at her like she had two heads.
"I didn't peg you as the rooster tea kettle sort," she said, filling the loaded silence between them with an attempt at humor.
He cleared his throat, taking some time to draw his eyes away from her. "It was my wife's."
Self-conscious, she jerked her hand back and crossed it over her midsection. "Sorry."
"No reason to be sorry," Finn said, his tone unreadable as he nodded toward the table where the coffee was waiting. "Truth is, I don't know why I keep that old thing around. I never use it. And it's a lousy decoration."
"No, it's cute," she insisted, taking a seat at the table. She stirred a couple of spoonsful of sugar and a dollop of cream into her coffee, noting Finn took his black.
"Do I look like the kind of man who keeps stuff around because it's cute?"
She couldn't tell if he was teasing or not, but she still smiled. "Well, your niece and nephew are pretty darn cute and you keep them around. Aaaand you haven't given me walking papers yet, even though I thought you might at the beginning. So yes. Yes, Finn Baylor, you seem like the kind of guy who keeps stuff around 'because it's cute' and there's nothing wrong with that."
Though it looked like he tried to stop it, a slow smile curled one corner of his lips. It made Lily's heart quicken and she tried to mask it by taking a sip of her coffee. He'd put a great deal of effort into the gruff exterior she'd seen, right up until they'd made peace. And even now, he tended to the tougher side. But the glimpses of his softness melted any hard feelings she might have harbored for the way he'd treated her earlier.
"Shit, you're right about those kids." His smile grew stronger. "And the last bit might be true, too."
Raising a brow at him, she buried her smile in her coffee. She'd just been teasing, and she hadn't come here expecting anything like this, but the flirtation was fun, and it took her mind off the fact that her horse had just about tried to knock her head off yesterday. She hadn't attended this morning's session; hadn't even asked about it, in fact. She'd spent the morning breaking the news to her friends that she intended to move out. When Noah had raised a dubious brow at her words, Emma had swatted him and told Lily it was a good idea.
She wasn't sure it was a good idea yet, but she couldn't say it was a bad one so far, that was for certain.
Finn shifted, pushing his chair back from the
table rather abruptly, interrupting Lily's warm fuzzies. Draining his coffee cup, he stood, setting the empty mug down.
"Well, like I said; make yourself at home. I got a couple of colts to ride yet today, and I'm sure you've got some photo work to do."
She made a move to protest; they could enjoy the quiet moment between the two of them for another little bit, but he was already heading for the door.
—SEVENTEEN—
The smell of cooking food hit Finn's nose at the door of his cabin. Despite himself, he stopped a moment before stepping inside. His afternoon rides had gone well; as well as they could with half his mind on the girl who not only was a pain in his side just being on the ranch, but had now taken up residence in his home. You invited her in, he reminded himself, and shook his head. It had been an act of kindness, a way to apologize for how he'd been cold to her when she first arrived, but now he felt like it was self-sabotage. She was sweet as homegrown honey and there was no way in hell he could treat her the way she deserved. After a sizable pep talk, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Lily was wiggling her hips to some country song with a jaunty beat on the radio while she tended a pot on the stove. At least she'd taken his advice to make herself at home.
He hung his hat and his coat inside the door, his nose leading him across the room to the stove where she was stirring something in a pot. Unable to resist, he leaned over her shoulder and took a whiff, his stomach grumbling in response. It might have been the spicy meat sauce she was stirring but it could have just as well been the delectable coconut smell that came off her; it had to be her shampoo. He'd find out soon enough, he imagined; it was a womanly rite of passage to fill shower stalls with as many shampoos and body washes as possible.
"Ten minutes 'til it's ready, I think."
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