He ran after her. “Here let me.”
“I can do it.”
“I know you can.” He pushed her aside and thankfully, she didn’t fight back. He dug a pitch fork into the hay and pulled it hurriedly into the stable while she collected tools that lay about outside the stable.
He looked up at the sky and the rain clouds were now massed more densely, and rumbling.
“Christy,” he tried again.
“I need that one inside too.” She pointed at a second bundle of hay.
He sighed and dug his pitch fork into it again. He watched her from the corner of his eyes as she busied herself outside. He dragged the bale into the stable, eager to get on with his discussion with her.
He threw it into a corner and rushed towards the door. It had begun to drizzle and he stood at the threshold shouting at her. “Christy, get in!”
“I need to clean this mess up,” she yelled back.
“It’s not important! Get in!”
“Yes, it is! It is important to me! And if you think this stable fork, this saddle stand and this pooper scooper is not important, then you can just go to hell! Better still, why don’t just go back to Philadelphia!”
“Is that what you want? Me to go back? Is that what this is all about?”
“What do you think, Ashton? You show up eleven years later and you expect me to simply waltz back into your life like the past never happened? Because suddenly you find me convenient?”
He stood now in the pouring rain, his hands on his hips, anger in his eyes and his clothes drenched to his bones.
“Convenient?” He rolled up his eyes. “The only person who finds anything convenient is you. I last recall you sleeping in my bed at your own free will! And you dare make me the bad guy here?”
She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped, deciding against it. She blinked at him through the rain clattering against her face, and then suddenly dropped the stable fork and manure scraper from her hands.
“I’ve had enough,” she said, walking away from him.
“So you’re gonna run, like you always do,” he said, following close behind her. “You can’t solve a problem, so you run.”
“I don’t have a problem. It’s you that is a problem. The trouble is how do I explain that to you?”
He pulled her around to face him. He didn’t care about the heavy downpour or the muddy puddles of water soaking into his expensive sneakers.
“Talk to me,” he pleaded. “What is it? Do you still resent me for marrying you?”
“Ashton.” She sighed tiredly.
“I’m here, aren’t I? I’m here now.”
“I thought you said you weren’t coming back for me. It would have been better if you hadn’t.”
“Yeah, well as you can see I can’t help it. I’ve been doing it for so long, it’s become a habit.”
“What do you want from me, Ashton?”
“I want you.”
She shook her head, sobbing quietly. “I can’t give you that. I’m sorry.”
“Why not?” he begged, holding onto her tightly.
“And what about Naomi?”
He stood quietly, not knowing what to say. What about her? What was he to do with his fiancée?
“I thought so,” she whispered and turned around to walk away, her lips quivering from her pain and the cold of the rain.
He rushed before her and blocked her pathway, his mind racing through his thoughts. He needed to tell her. He needed to let her know how he felt about her. It was his only chance. She could reject him, and yeah it would fucking hurt. But he didn’t care about rejection right now. “Christy, I love you.”
She pursed her trembling lips. “Perhaps, if I was seventeen again, I’d have fallen for that. But I am not seventeen. I have a child and I need stability in my life. I cannot commit to a man who can’t afford to give me and my son his time. It’s not enough, Ashton. It’s not enough for me. I want a man who I can wake up to each morning. I want someone I can run to when I’m hurt. To scream at when I’m angry or because I’m in the damned mood to. I want a man who I can call my own. Just mine alone- without having to worry about sharing him with another woman. ”
“It’s not easy, Christy. I’m still trying to sort things out myself.”
She nodded, her tears disguised in the pouring rain. “Fine. Once you’ve sorted them through, come back to me. But I can’t promise you I will be waiting for you when you’re done.”
“Christy,” he begged, cupping her face, leaning his brow against hers, his voice rasping against her face. “Don’t do this. I’m sorry for putting you through this. But give me some time.”
“And I’m sorry too, Ashton.” She wept. “I’m sorry that I can’t help being selfish about you. I just can’t share you. Please… don’t ask me to.”
*****
Two days of continuous torrential rain and two days of torturous silence. If it hadn’t been for JR, Ashton would have certainly lost his mind.
His Facebook page beeped again. It was his move on the scrabbles. He scratched his chin as he studied the word JR had last entered.
“Kamsin,” he read. “What the heck is a ‘kamsin’?”
It had to be valid if the Scrabbles site accepted it. He looked up the dictionary out of mere curiosity. A hot south-westerly wind in Egypt, coming from the Sahara.
He scrunched his mouth in deep thought. The boy had a knack with words. He would never have thought of something as creative as that. He glanced down at his miserable allotment of tiles. There was no way he could come up with something near as good as kamsin. He mouthed the word aloud as he frustratingly tried to construct a word that was not near as impressive. He was failing miserably.
“Dad?” JR called from the living room. “I’m done!”
“I saw that!” he shouted back from the family’s private study.
“Well then, hurry up!”
“I’m thinking!”
He heard his footsteps grow closer to the door. “We’re playing scrabbles, Dad. You’re meant to be a little faster with your tiles.”
“I know.”Ashton scratched his head. “But give me some time, would ya? Breathing down my neck isn’t going to help me speed it up.”
“I’m just asking if you’re going to be done anytime soon. We’ve got a week to play it, you know.”
“Ahh, alright.” He threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “I’ve got some work to catch-up to as well.”
“I’ll be at the lodge, then,” JR said, turning back to head out again.
“Hey, where did you learn to play scrabbles like that?”
“Mom,” JR put simply, before disappearing out the door.
Ashton stared after him, tapping the edges of his computer. She loved playing scrabbles. There was so much he had yet to learn about his wife.
He resumed his search on the web. After another argument over her computer in her office, Christy had reluctantly allowed him use to her study in the main house, thanks to the support of Margaret and JR. He had surreptitiously tackled the issue over dinner so he could win their support. He had inkling she would relent if Margaret and JR sided with him. Although, he had not expected that she would be a step ahead of him by relocating him to the study in the main house instead of letting him share the office with her like he had wanted to.
The distance she kept between them pained him. But she was hurt. More than that, she was right. He was so emotionally invested in possessing Christy, he wasn’t thinking straight. He needed to sort his problems out. He wasn’t even sure he was ready to end his engagement with Naomi. He’d spent the last three years of his life with Naomi. And until he had found Christy, he had become thoroughly convinced she was the one. How could he just call her up and tell her that he couldn’t marry her anymore because he’d found his wife again? How could he tell her that he had mistaken friendship for love? That he’d never feel for her the way he felt for Christy?
He opened yet another web link leading h
im to advice on running a successful bed and breakfast lodge. He scrolled down the page unenthusiastically. There was nothing there that he hadn’t read before, until his eyes fell on a small link.
He navigated to the recommended page, growing excited.
*****
He cleared his throat as he entered the living room.
JR was mindlessly surfing through the T.V. channels while Margaret and Christy engaged in their little gossip.
“Hey,” he announced as he ruffled JR’s hair, urging him to shift up slightly so he could sit next to him.
“How’s your day been?” Margaret asked. “You’ve been locked up in that study all day, I’d barely seen you.
“Well, I’ve been setting up a proper website for the lodge. Dougie, my web designer’s done a pretty impressive job. We just need to polish some little rough nuggets, but otherwise it’s coming along fine.”
“When can we see it?” Margaret asked excitedly.
“Soon.” He chuckled. “It’s going very well is all I can tell you for now.”
“As long as it brings in some business. That Rainier’s Lodge up the road isn’t doing much good for Lily Grove.”
“Anything little helps. The repairs and a little facelift to the front of the lodge will boost its image.”
“I don’t have the budget for a facelift,” Christy mumbled, trying desperately to focus on the book on her lap.
Ashton tensed, coughing slightly to ease his nerves. “I was thinking of paying for that.”
She snapped her eyes up sharply at him. “I thought I had made it clear you weren’t investing any of your money into the business. We owe you enough as it is.”
“It’s not a loan,” he said curtly.
“I don’t care.”
“If it helps, think of it as my appreciation for taking care of JR for the last ten years.”
“I don’t need your appreciation.”
“Oh come, now, Christy,” Margaret said. “We all know we can do with a little help.”
“But Margaret-” she protested.
“But nothing,” Margaret said determinedly. “I accept your offer, Ashton. Thank you.”
“There’s also one more thing,” he said, glancing at Christy unsurely. “There’s a seminar for small hoteliers in New York. This will be a great opportunity to expose Lily Grove to the world, not forgetting there will be immense information, advice and networking with others in the business.”
“We’re not interested,” Christy said flatly.
“Well, you should be,” he rebutted. “You can’t say Lily Grove isn’t getting enough guests when people don’t know where the heck it is. You’ve got to get the information out there so people know it exists.”
“We’ve been doing well so far.”
“You call the meager charge you make for each night ‘doing well’? There’s inflation to the economy every year. Your rate is already quite low as it is.”
“We love what we do. It’s not only about the money.”
“I hate to break it to you, Christy, but life doesn’t operate on love alone. You’ve got Margaret and JR to consider. This is your livelihood. If you don’t start treating it as such, you’re going to lose it.”
She scowled. “Going to New York means travel expenses and a ticket to the conference. I’m assuming it’s not cheap either.”
“They are investments- small expenses you make with the vision of getting a larger return in the near future.”
“Okay, I’ve heard enough,” Margaret declared. “Christy, you’re going. Put some money aside for the trip. Make it your priority. We can do without any extra linen for a while, because Ashton does have a point. It’s a new era. We can’t remain stuck in our little rut holes. We have to move along with the times. We have competition around the bend and we have to start waking up and face reality.”
Christy closed her book with a bang, throwing it on the coffee table. “Is there anything else, Mr Pryor?”
“I’m paying for the trip,” he replied.
“No, you’re not-”
“Oh, get off your high horse, Christy. If I left it to you, we’d miss the conference altogether. It’s in another two days. Do you think you’ll manage to arrange the funds by then?”
“I have money.”
“I know. And you have excuses too.” He rubbed his temples in frustration. Christy had a knack of making him work hard. It wasn’t ever easy with her. “It’s in the evening. I’ll do my best to get us on a flight tomorrow; otherwise we’ll have to make do with one the next day.”
“I can make my way, surely.” Her temper flared. “I see no reason why you have to go with me.”
“The reservation at the seminar is under my name and I have contacts there who may be able to give you a hand in your promotions. Without me, you’ll be just another unknown making her debut in the tourism industry. And trust me, you don’t want that.”
*****
A knock rapped on her door. She didn’t need to guess who it was. She sat at her dresser, massaging moisturizer into her hands.
“Christy,” Margaret called out before opening her door. “Are you okay?”
“I have to be,” she said curtly. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
Margaret sighed, sitting tiredly on the edge of her bed. “Ashton means well, Christy. And we do need his help.”
Christy bent her head, picking at the hems of her camisole. “I know. It’s just still hard for me to accept it.”
“I’m sorry for putting you through this, Christy. But don’t you think it’s time you forgive the man? He’s realized his errors and he’s doing his best to atone for them. He’s stuck around for two weeks and he’s worked every day of it, fixing up the property. And now, he’s even bothered to arrange for that conference. He didn’t need to, but he did. That does say something, you know?”
Christy nipped at her lower lip as she sat quietly, sifting through her thoughts and Margaret’s advice.
Margaret rose up and patted Christy tenderly on her head. “I still love you, honey. You’re always gonna be the child that we never had. And I know you’re strong. Because it takes plenty courage for a man to say he’s sorry and even more for a woman to forgive him.
“Margaret-” she began.
“I’m not only asking that you do it for Ashton. I want you to do it for yourself as well. Heal your heart, darling. Make peace with your pain and take this chance to walk into your future without the burdens you’ve been carrying all these years.”
Christy sniveled. She wrapped her arms around Margaret’s homely waist, sobbing against her. She wasn’t courageous. She was far from anything brave. She had forgiven Ashton, she cried silently. Not because she was suddenly okay with what he had done, but because she wanted him in her life. He’d broken her and then he shattered her. But if she took yet another chance on him, she was afraid she’d never have the strength to put herself back together again.
CHAPTER 17
He slid the key card into the lock.
“You can have this room, if you wish,” he said, wheeling their luggage into the hotel room. “I can have the one next door.”
“Thanks,” she muttered, throwing her bag tiredly into a chair. “It’s nice.”
He watched her amble through the room, checking it out. She had said relatively little through the entire trip. She hadn’t even bothered to argue over the traveling expenses anymore either, and he’d rather have that than the painful, agonizing silence she was punishing him with.
“I’ll be next door if you need anything,” he said.
She nodded quietly, proceeding to unzip her bag.
He stood at his spot, barely moving. He didn’t want her angry anymore. He wanted to hold her without the frustrations amassing between them.
“We still have some time before the seminar tonight.” He cleared his throat. “Do you want to do some shopping or take a walk?”
“No,” she answered. “You need money to shop. And I don’t
have that luxury.”
Her answer cut him in the inside. His pulse in his temples tensed. She never failed to continually remind him that they weren’t together on this trip.
“I thought I could get something for JR and Margaret.” He tried again. “I was wondering if you could help me out in finding something they’d like.”
She put her palm to her brow, rubbing it. “I’d just like to get some rest, Ashton, if you don’t mind. Seminars aren’t exactly my thing. And the trip didn’t help at all. Can we meet in the evening instead, when we’re ready to leave for the seminar?”
He nodded and moved out quietly. He needed to give her space to figure things out as well. She was just as much confused and vexed about their relationship as he was.
He closed the door behind him. How long was he going to drag her about him? How much longer before he truly realized that one of them would give up on them? And he feared that if she gave up on him first, he would lose her forever.
*****
She was dressed in an evening knee length black cocktail dress. Her long hair was wrapped up into an elegant French roll. She stood beside him, her stature tall and confident as she wore a beautiful smile on her face while she conversed with the other attendees of the seminar.
He couldn’t help wrapping a proud, possessive arm around her lower back. Was she happy? What did she think of the seminar? Did she think it had been worth it? It mattered to him that she liked it.
“It’s been such a pleasure knowing you, Christy,” said the man across her. He smiled broadly at her, his manner clearly evident of Ashton’s arm around the woman. Naturally, Ashton’s presence had curbed any major flirtations with her. “Ashton, great meeting you too. If either of you are ever in Atlanta, please don’t forget to call me. We must stay in touch.”
“Of course, Gary.” She beamed. “I’m glad we met too. I’d love to visit your B&B sometime.”
“Most definitely. Do you have any kids? Atlanta’s a great place for family vacations too.”
“Oh… er…” Christy hesitated.
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