Lawful Heart

by Amity Lassiter

  Norah turned in his arms, looping hers around his neck with the spatula still in hand. It lifted the shirt up a bit and he slid a hand down past her hip to find a bare cheek. Without thinking twice, he gave her a little swat, which elicited a yelp out of her as she jumped forward, a little closer into his arms, her belly pressing against him. He turned her a quarter turn away from the stove and bent her back to lay a sound kiss on her lips. He could take her right here in the kitchen. He wasn’t normally any kind of wanton risk taker but she brought something out in him. It was a little bit frightening, but in the good way, the adrenaline kind of way. He’d never been an adrenaline junkie but he could see himself chasing the thrill of the thought of her without panties on for a good long while.

  She made a noise against his mouth and smacked his shoulder with the spatula, producing a satisfying slapping noise.

  “Breakfast is going to burn,” she hissed, telling him that would be the worst thing that could happen to her day.

  “All right all right,” he said, releasing her, but not before pressing a quick peck to her cheek. “I’m sorry, I can’t help myself. Can I do anything to help you?”

  She giggled, turning back to the stove to turn off the burners. “You can start some toast, if you want toast. Grab a couple plates. Coffee’s just about done.”

  She’d already set cutlery and glasses with orange juice at the island bar, right next to one another. This arrangement would work until they had Jellybean, then they’d need a proper table, family style. She’d need to stay with him. He distracted himself from the thought of her, in his kitchen, with no panties, available anytime, by popping two pieces of bread into the toaster and pouring two mugs full of coffee. He put two plates down on the counter beside the stove and hovered nearby as she dished the food out.

  “Don’t you have something better to do?” she asked, focused on the food, but he could hear the smile in her voice. She started splitting the bacon up between the two plates, evenly, until there was one extra piece left. Without thinking twice, she popped it into her mouth, then smiled up at him.

  “Not a damn thing,” he said, swooping in for one smoky kiss before he picked up the plates and delivered them to the island.

  “Seriously, though,” she said, as she settled into one of the chairs. “Don’t your horses need fed or something?”

  He climbed onto the stool next to her. “I texted Kerri last night, she’s got things under control.”

  “It must be hard to be tied down like that.”

  “Well, I haven’t left the property for a vacation in a while, I can say that much,” he replied, tucking into the perfectly crisp bacon. Eggs were good, but bacon was where it was at. “This is good.”

  “Something tells me you like it that way.”

  “With bacon? Yes.”

  “Being a homebody,” she said.

  “Well, that too. I bought the place when I was twenty two. I put a lot of work into it. Built the barn with my own two hands. It took every bit of savings I had scrimped and squirreled away from working every odd job I could get my hands on until I got elected. And this is the first night I’ve spent away from it in years for any reason other than work, if I’m honest. But who needs to leave when you’ve built it to be your oasis?”

  She smiled thoughtfully, chewing a mouthful of egg before she spoke.

  “I don’t know what that’s like. I feel like people here in Three Rivers have roots. A real motivation to stay where they are. But I don’t know how that feels. We moved around so much after we left here. As soon as I moved out, I did—there’s no homestead that’s been in the family for generations—and I’ve had four or five different apartments. The last couple years, Rob and I moved every time the lease was up.”

  Banks couldn’t stop himself from bristling at the mention of Rob. He couldn’t wipe the man out of her life but it certainly would have made him happier if he could. Without even being here, he’d taken her away from him—only for a few days—but it was enough to know it could happen, and those days had been miserable.

  He wanted to tell her to just move her things into his place now, he’d retire on the ranch, it would be in their family forever. He didn’t. Things had been on a quick path since she’d arrived, but the reminder of what had happened when he’d inserted himself just too hard with Rob slowed him down…as much as he could be slowed down, anyway.

  “So that’s how you found your feet so quickly.”

  “You get resourceful when you’re always on the move,” she said with a nod. “But thanks to your family, I think I can find some permanence here in Three Rivers. Or I want to, anyway. Honestly, it just makes sense to have Jellybean where I have family, and I feel closest to Aunt Gloria of anybody I’m related to by blood.”

  “She’ll be so glad you’re here for this, then.”

  She wouldn’t be the only one.

  —THIRTY-ONE—

  Norah seated herself at one of the stools by the counter in Hinkley’s.

  “Hey Norah,” Rosie said, filling two glasses with ice water. “Your order shouldn’t be long. I’ll just drop these off, then can I get you anything while you’re waiting?”

  Her stomach growling, Norah eyeballed a glass display of muffins, and then nodded toward it. They’d been cooped up in the office all morning working on inventory and this was the first break she’d taken. Banks had insisted he would work through and had called in and ordered lunch for her to pick up and bring back to the office.

  Rosie returned, opening the display, and took out a muffin, setting it on a plate in front of Norah. She rang up the total for the lunches and Norah used Banks’ credit card to pay. Finally, Rosie left her in peace with her muffin. Unable to control herself, and telling herself it was something to do with blood sugar, she split the muffin open and devoured the bottom half in two big bites.

  When Rosie returned with the takeout trays all tied up in plastic carry bags and Norah’s mouth was full of half the muffin top, the waitress’s brow shot up.

  “Well you do move quick.”

  Norah blushed, swallowing back the muffin.

  “On that muffin and on Banks Montgomery.”

  The baking she’d already eaten sank to the bottom of Norah’s stomach like a lead weight. She hated confrontation, but she hated this rumor mill even more. She cleared her throat, setting the remaining piece of muffin onto the plate.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Everybody in a small town knows the best way to lock a man down is to get pregnant, darling. I’m not knocking it. I admire your initiative. Nobody’s been able to pin that man down yet.”

  Every part of Norah was numb with some combination of embarrassment and rage. She knew people speculated about her pregnancy but this was the first time someone had done it to her damn face. She let out a long breath, trying to decide how to go, but a big flame of anger licked up in her belly and she stood up, gathering her bags.

  “First of all, Rosie. I don’t know you and you don’t know me, so this is none of your damn business. But if you must know, I was pregnant when I got here, if you couldn’t tell by how enormous I am compared to how long I’ve been here. And I sure as hell didn’t stay because I wanted to—I was left here. Second of all, Banks Montgomery is a tremendous man, but he is not the father of my baby. My piece of shit ex who dumped me here is. And if I had known you people would run with every tiny salacious bit of gossip they came across, I’d have started walking back to Denver the second I realized it.”

  She straightened her spine, which felt extra strong and shiny, and took her flushed cheeks and pregnancy waddle straight to the door. She might have floated back to the office because she didn’t remember any of the walk, and when she finally stepped into the building and the door fell shut behind her, hot tears overflowed and spilled down her cheeks. She took deep, gasping breaths and pressed her back against the wall, trying her best to stay silent and willing Banks not to emerge from his office.

  Not his office, instead f
rom the washroom down the hall. She heard his voice behind her. “Norah?” Then his feet moving faster.

  “Are you all right? Is everything okay?”

  His hand closed over her shoulder, and he turned her away from the wall to face him. His dark eyes sought contact with hers and she took a big sniffle, trying to rein herself in. It felt silly and indulgent after everything else that had happened since Rob pulled off the highway exit to give in to the big emotions she was feeling right now, but she couldn’t help herself.

  Banks held the eye contact, his hand moving from her shoulder to her cheek as he gently brushed tears away with his thumb.

  “Tell me.”

  His voice was soft but compelling. This wasn’t lip service.

  She drew a deep breath and let a few long, shaky exhales.

  “I just ran into the rumor mill. But it’s okay. I’m fine.”

  “This is not fine,” Banks said, his mouth a firm line. “Was it Rosie? I told her to leave this alone.”

  Norah shook her head quickly, then wiped her eyes, swinging back toward strong, a stiff spine.

  “I did, too. I just feel bad that you’re getting dragged into this.”

  “Hey, don’t feel bad. I can handle myself.”

  “But you shouldn’t have to. This is my fault.”

  “This is not your fault. Like I told you, this is a side effect of small town living. All the goodness with a little bit of bad.”

  He drew her into his arms, cradling her against his chest and her erratic breathing evened out and slowed as the warmth of his embrace washed over her. Though they’d grown so close, they were careful not to get too intimate in the office. This was a special circumstance, and she appreciated him throwing caution into the wind.

  “Why don’t you come over tonight? I’ll cook you some dinner, you can play with Sailor. Relax a little, and take your mind off today.”

  She nodded against his chest, gave him a squeeze and then released him, wiping at her tear-streaked cheeks.

  “That sounds good. I feel silly. It’s probably hormones…and hunger.”

  “Well, let’s look after the one thing we can look after, then.” Banks said, taking up the bags of takeout and gesturing toward his office.

  *

  “I just can’t handle how much you two love each other,” Banks said, shaking his head as he loaded a flake of hay into the feeder in Dixie’s stall. Norah sat on a bucket in the corner, scratching Sailor’s neck and talking silly to her. Over the course of the few weeks the foal had been earthside, the pair had struck up a friendship he had no business interrupting. The filly contentedly allowed Banks to do things to and with her, but she really seemed to genuinely enjoy Norah’s company in a way she didn’t express with Banks.

  He stood in the door and watched them for a moment, Dixie happily munching away in the corner while Norah scratched Sailor and she stretched to give her access to the places she hadn’t gotten yet. This moment was perfect. All the things he loved most all in one place.

  “Dixie trusts you, you know.”

  “I suspect she’s just thankful I’m distracting Sailor while she eats her supper in peace.”

  Banks laughed. Perceptive.

  “That too, but she definitely has shown her protective mama side when it comes to anyone else messing with her baby. But you…she remembers you from the delivery, I think. Horses are funny like that. You can’t walk in and command respect and trust. But if you show them you won’t let them get hurt, they give you that trust without question. You did a great job with her when she was foaling, and now she knows you wouldn’t intentionally let anything bad happen to her.”

  He laid the words out carefully, hoping she’d draw the parallel between what she was to Dixie and what he wanted to be to her. He could tell her until he was blue in the face that he’d never let anything hurt her, but until something actually did, could she believe that?

  She looked up at him, then, her eyes filled with the question he’d been hoping she’d arrive at. He nodded, barely a movement, and she copied the gesture. He held his hand out to her.

  “Come on, let’s go in and I’ll show you the magic I have hiding up my sleeve.”

  She put her hand in his and let him help her up, tugging her to him quick for a kiss, before releasing her and pushing the stall door open for her.

  “I could get used to having you around to help with chores,” he admitted as they headed toward the house.

  “I barely helped.”

  “Oh it’s nice just to have company sometimes. Talk to somebody who can answer back in words,” he teased, bumping her shoulder lightly. Crash charged on ahead of them, wiggling with anticipation in front of the door. “I swear he doesn’t do that when it’s just me coming in.”

  “You are clearly neglecting his ear scratching needs, then,” she said, climbing the stairs ahead of him and letting herself into the house. He followed, toeing out of his boots, and they stood side by side at the kitchen sink washing their hands. Banks couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to do that at the end of every round of evening chores together.

  “All right,” he said, gesturing to the chair at the head of the table. “Let me impress you. But first…sweet tea?”

  She nodded and he poured her a generous glass of tea, dropping a few ice cubes into the liquid.

  “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do to help?” she asked, but the way she drew the glass to her and settled into the chair told him she was just as happy to relax.

  “I’m sure. This won’t take long.”

  “What are you making anyway?” she asked, stretching to peer at what he had laid out on the counter.

  “My signature dish.”

  “Which is?”

  “Spaghetti carbonara and garlic bread.”

  He glanced over his shoulder to catch her expression—a little smile with a brow raised. Impressed, just like he’d hoped she’d be.

  “Really?”

  “Didn’t expect that, did you?”

  She laughed.

  “Honestly? No. I mean, Nan feeds you almost every night of the week.”

  “That’s because that’s Nan, not because I can’t feed myself. Do you honestly think Nan would have raised me and not taught me to be totally self-sufficient?”

  Norah thought about that for a moment, spinning her glass on the table top.

  “You’re right. She wouldn’t.”

  “Besides, every book says a man needs to know how to cook one thing to impress a lady.”

  “Look, you said the magic words: pasta and bacon. What else could a pregnant lady ask for?”

  He chuckled and got to work.

  She didn’t stay sitting for long, either. He watched from the corner of his eye as she wandered across the kitchen to what he called his ‘trophy wall’, glass in hand. Since he wasn’t actually a competitor, there weren’t any real trophies, but he kept framed photos and win pictures of the foals he’d bred that went on to be successful.

  He wasn’t surprised when she paused by a photo of MW; Mister Whiz. The stallion was the full sibling to Sailor, and it was obvious. Despite her young age, the filly mirrored that catty, confident air that shone through in every picture of MW. The two of them had a real presence about them, and he joked that was half the battle when it came to reining. To date, MW was the highest earning foal that had ever come out of his breeding program, and Banks was so fiercely proud, he’d traveled to Denver to watch him show at the National Finals last year. It had been a bright point after he’d lost Dixie’s foal.

  The photo had been taken there, in the winner’s ring, with all of the horse’s connections standing by proudly, and the owners had invited Banks to step into the frame. Compared to the slick big money trainer and rider in the photo, Banks had felt like a real hillbilly but he’d never been prouder.

  Norah traced her fingers over the engraved brass nameplate on the bottom of the photo frame.

  “Mister Whiz. What a name,�
�� she said with a soft chuckle.

  Banks checked a piece of pasta, satisfied it was done, then drained it and added a bit of oil to keep the noodles from sticking while he finished up his sauce.

  “That’s Sailor’s full brother.”

  “Big shoes to fill.”

  “MW won fifteen thousand dollars that night.”

  “Wow,” she said, and when he glanced back he could tell she couldn’t imagine a world where a horse could earn that much. “So that’s in Sailor’s blood?”

  “Hopefully,” Banks said with a shrug. While it made sense on the business end of things, he could understand how it made no sense to her how that soft, fuzzy little foal could someday earn that much money in a two minute reining performance. “With the right buyer, trainer, and schedule. But he’s got the foundation for all that stuff. It’s one of my favorite things to do; study bloodlines and match them up to see what will produce a winning combination.”

  “That’s impressive.”

  She was quiet as she made her way back to her seat. Banks added the pasta to the sauce and covered it to simmer for a bit while he got a couple of wide bowls and set up a place setting in front of her and then one adjacent to her for himself. Once he’d laid it out, he dished the pasta into a serving dish and pulled the garlic bread out of the oven and put it on the table.

  “Help yourself,” he said, gesturing to the food, because her eyes were wide as saucers when she took it in.

  “This…this smells amazing,” she said, leaning across the table. She started dishing out pasta into her bowl while he took a spot beside her.

  “I aim to please.”

  *

  Her belly full, Norah curled into Banks’ side. He shifted to make her more comfortable, sliding his arm along the back of the suspended swing on his porch and she nestled in, resting her hand on his knee. The light of the day had dissipated and she could hear frogs singing in the little pond across the driveway. She loved the little apartment at Nan’s but she loved this place just as much. Banks’ hand dropped to run his fingertips lightly over her exposed arm and she sighed contentedly. Her interaction with Rosie this afternoon seemed a million miles away.