Brazing (Forged in Fire #2)

by Lila Felix

  “We should get going. Thank you for the meal, Cami.”

  Everyone hugged and Preacher Wife insisted they come over for dinner the next week. West, Tate, and I would be back to school by then.

  “You wanna stay a little longer? I’ll bring you home.” I whispered to Tate.

  I heard West whisper. “Mmmhmm, he’ll bring you all the way home.”

  Pervert.

  “I think you need your rest, don’t you dear?” I’d never seen Preacher Wife so micro-managy. Usually she was a bit of a live and let live kind of person.

  Cami paled at her grandmother’s suggestion.

  “I’ll be fine, Grammy. Bridger won’t bring me home too late.”

  “Before midnight, I promise.”

  Midnight was protocol, right?

  “That will be fine.” Preacher patted his wife on the shoulder giving her a private signal. As soon as they left, I grabbed Tate’s hand and tugged her out the back door. I thought about sitting under the lights, but I knew that spot was now Stockton and Cami’s spot and no one wants to make-out in the same spot where their brother had.

  “Where are you taking me?” She sounded a little out of breath and I realized that maybe I was walking a bit fast for her.

  “Out to my spot.”

  She giggled and I smiled in response. “Your spot where you take all the girls?”

  As much as I hated to admit it, the twang of jealousy in her voice kind of pumped me up. She didn’t want me anywhere with other girls as much as I didn’t want that Austin kid to touch her with a twenty foot pole.

  I knew that the Bible said love wasn’t jealous, but I liked Tate a little jealous.

  Sue me.

  “There haven’t been other girls in a long time, Tate. Actually, I’m not sure there ever was any other girl.”

  A jerk of my hand stopped me to find Tate with her arms crossed over her chest.

  “Really? I seem to recall a girl named Jesse occupying a lot of your time.”

  Looking out at the mountains in the distance, I knew she was right. Jesse had been a big part of my life. But it wasn’t until Tate came along that I realized that it was nothing more than just that—an occupation of my time and a decent outlet for my very teen, very male hormones. Then again, I wasn’t the only outlet Jesse plugged into.

  Not being able to stop myself, I drew Tate to me. I didn’t expect her to react right away, but she did, looping her arms around my neck and stepping in willingly. “There’s a big difference in between spending time with someone and really caring about them.”

  She tilted her head upward and looked back and forth from one eye to the other. “Bridger, are you saying you care about me? Don’t get sappy on me now.”

  “Tate, you make me wanna be sappy.”

  I couldn’t believe I just said that.

  “No, what I mean is, you can’t get sappy on me when you haven’t taken me far enough out for me to kiss you. I can still hear your brother and his nonsense. Don’t tell me that right here in the middle of your backyard is your spot.”

  “Come on. I don’t even think Stockton knows about this. Well, he has to, but he doesn’t go there.”

  I led her North, into the woods that we basically left to themselves. When we were kids, it was always assumed that Stockton would inherit the house, whether he wanted it or not. One day when I was a kid, I asked my dad why Stockton got to live on the family land and I didn’t. I thought that I really offended him. It sounded ungrateful and demanding. I was completely ashamed of myself afterwards. But my dad, never missing a beat, told me to pick a spot and it would be mine for building a house when I got older. I knew it by heart. It was the spot of the property, the only place on the property, where black walnut trees grew. Even as a child, I knew that black walnuts and their oil would be money in the bank.

  “This is it.” I pointed to the expanse of land that I’d chosen.

  “It’s just trees, babe.”

  That did things to me.

  “It’s a lot more than that. Come step right here in the middle.” My hands on her hips, I made her stand in the center of where I’d always imagined my home. I didn’t know why I was showing her this now, but I trusted her with this part of me. She was breathing heavily still and I was too. The weight of what I was about to share pushed down on my chest.

  And I hadn’t trusted anyone in a long, long time.

  “This part of the property is in Stockton’s name until I get married. After that, it becomes mine.”

  Tate turned around in a circle, taking her very own tour of the place. Her hand was over her mouth and I couldn’t tell whether I’d given away too much.

  Oh well, I was about to give it all away.

  “There’s some things buried on this land.”

  She squealed a little and jumped up to balance on her tip toes.

  “No, not bodies. Jeez. Like, I buried some stuff here.”

  Reaching her hand out to me, her posture changed like she needed something to hold onto. “What is it?”

  I barely heard her. My heart was pounding so loudly in my chest that I could feel it in my earlobes. This was why it never felt right with Jesse. I could blame it on the cheating or the mistrust. But really, she just wasn’t for me. I knew it. I’d known it since I was a bratty kid that this wild, breathtaking woman in front of me was the only one who would ever fit.

  “My mom used to keep old, empty wine bottles. She was a bit of a hoarder. Anyway, I used to take those bottles, write notes and put them in the bottles, and then bury them here, under my piece of land.”

  Tate’s entire face brightened with a smile I’d never seen. The apples of her cheeks blushed pink as if she already knew what secret I was about to reveal.

  “What did they say?”

  Lord, please, let her not be freaked out.

  I should’ve brought a shovel.

  “Here. I’ll let you read it.” The first one was buried under a tree and I’d marked it with my initials. Feeling like a complete idiot, I dug into the earth with my bare hands. I’d only been ten the first time I wrote one, so the hole was shallow and a few seconds into moving dirt, I’d found the bottle.

  After shaking the bottle, the note came to the top and I finagled it out.

  I unraveled it before handing it to her, making sure of what I already knew. Ten-year-old Bridger was already very much in love with Tate. He was just unsure and too caught up in being a boy to know what to do with such a huge honor.

  That’s what it would be to love Tate Halloway. It would be an honor and a privilege. A girl—now a woman with that much life to share and that much will to keep me on my toes.

  Younger Bridger was a fool.

  Older Bridger wasn’t that much smarter.

  Thank God there was time to change my ways.

  I handed it over and then quickly took it back.

  “Come on Bridger. How bad can it be?”

  It could be Tate running away from me like I was an axe murderer, bad.

  She snatched it from my hand and I couldn’t even look at her face while she read it. That note was the bold, raw truth that only a child could deliver. Thrusting my hands into my pockets to keep myself from grabbing the note and burning it, I paced around the place. I finally stopped a ways out where she would feel safe in the event that she realized what a freak I was.

  I hung my head. In all my efforts, I’d fallen again.

  It was too much too soon.

  We’d just kissed for the first time the day before.

  Just when I’d given up hope, her arms wrapped around my middle and she pressed against my back. I could feel her breaths between my shoulder blades. Her hands were trembling, one fisted in my shirt and the other clinging to the letter for dear life.

  “Are there more?” She asked, her voice muffled in my shirt.

  I hesitated, but then realized the feeling of freedom that came with vulnerability of telling Tate everything.

  “There has to be hundreds.”
I pulled her shaking hand up to my mouth and kissed her palm and then pulled her arms around me tighter, not quite ready to face her. My hands still had dirt on them, but I didn’t care.

  “Why did you bury them here?”

  Her questions were so pointed, it was like she knew the answers beforehand.

  “Because even stupid little Bridger knew that one day our house would be built here.”

  Gathering my courage, I finally faced her. In the distance, I could see that someone had turned off the twinkly lights behind the house. Tears rivered down her face. My hands were dirty, so I pulled off my shirt and dried them. Tate moved her hands to splay over my stomach and we both gasped at the feeling. Walking her fingers upward, I lost my breath.

  Feeling absolutely foolish but unabashedly brazen at the same time, I wrapped my t-shirt around her back, not wanting to get dirt on her, and used the edges to close the distance between us.

  “You don’t know what tomorrow will hold, Bridger. Don’t plan your life around me.”

  “I know what the future holds for me. But right now, all I’m worried about is holding you.”

  I didn’t let her protest any longer. Dirt be damned, I framed her face with my hands and leaned down to show her. Our mouths moved with a built up fury. I couldn’t get close enough to her. My hands flattened against her back making sure that air couldn’t even flow between her body and mine. Her lips were colder than I’d expected but soon enough were in balance with mine, warm and needy. She pulled away a lot faster than I’d hoped.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Something had to be wrong for her to want to stop that heaven.

  Her knees buckled and I caught her just before she faltered. “I’m just tired all of a sudden.”

  Though it was cold outside, Tate’s brow was laced with sweat and she looked like she might pass out at any time.

  “Let’s get you back to the house.”

  I hunched over and picked her up. She let me and as much as I enjoyed carrying her around, it worried me that she hadn’t rebelled against it. Tate Halloway felt light in my arms and while I should’ve been grateful, the fact distressed me. Someone her height shouldn’t be this light. On the way back to the house, she closed her eyes and grew limp in my arms. I took a shortcut through the woods. Something inside fueled me on, making me walk faster than I ever had.

  Something was wrong with my girl. I had to fix it.

  “Stock!” I called, arriving at the house. Cami came out instead and immediately ripped me a new one for getting my handprints on the back of Tate’s shirt.

  “You can’t leave evidence like this, Bridger. What’s wrong with her?”

  “I don’t know. She said she was really sleepy and then just passed out on my way here.”

  Tate moaned while we moved into the house.

  “Get her on the couch. We’ll call Preacher.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tate

  I blinked up at the ceiling to Bridger’s family’s house and decided right this second would be a very convenient time to die.

  I wanted to die. For real.

  I’d rather die than face Bridger and explain what happened. Or Cami and confess that I hadn’t been able to stomach a single bite of her… of her whatever it was she’d served for dinner.

  Cami’s blonde head came into view first and I sucked in a sharp breath, deciding this was better of the two options.

  “Are you okay?” she asked in a low voice.

  My head spun, hot chills raced over my body and my stomach threatened to heave any second. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine,” she pointed out.

  “But I am. I just… I’m really tired and I didn’t eat much today.”

  “You’re tired and hungry? So you passed out in the woods with my brother-in-law?” Her blue eyes narrowed sharply on me.

  Oh, geez. Did I look sketchy? Did she think I was trying to play Bridger?

  I might not have been completely honest with him about… about my sickness, but I was so not trying to trap him by being all damsel-in-distress-y.

  In fact, I was trying to do the opposite. I didn’t want him to feel stuck with me just because I was ill. But how to convey that to Cami without asking her to lie for me?

  I threw that thought out immediately. I would never ask her to lie for me. My grandparents covered up for me, but because they were as weary about spreading the news as I was. Not because they didn’t want other people to know, but because I felt stressed out about other people knowing and they didn’t want to add anything to my recovery.

  If you could call this recovery.

  “I am… I’m… What I’m trying to say is that…”

  “Is this about your food allergy again?” Bridger came into view sporting clean hands and a new t-shirt. The lines of his face were pinched and his eyes hard and protective with concern.

  Momentarily, I felt a little distracted by his glorious, possessive, I-am-all-that-is-man face. “My food allergy?” I asked in a small voice.

  “Gluten or whatever.”

  I gasped. “Yes!” This was a two birds with one stone kind of lie. “Yes, my allergy! I’m gluten intolerant. I have Celiacs.”

  Cami’s eyebrows scrunched down over her cute nose. “Celiacs?”

  “I, er, can’t eat gluten-based foods. Your pot pie, the crust, I mean, is a gluten-based food. Sorry, I didn’t eat much of it. I’m just hungry and really tired.”

  Those two reasons weren’t even lies. I was hungry and I was more than exhausted. I should have gone home with Grams like she’d wanted. She could probably see the impending breakdown written all over my face.

  “Oh, my gosh!” Cami squealed. “I had no idea! And Bridger didn’t say anything!” She used the back of her hand to hit him across the chest. He didn’t even flinch.

  He did politely push her out of the way though and sit down on the couch next to me. His large body pushed hotly into my side and he settled his hand over my waist.

  I wanted to melt.

  But I was afraid I was going to throw up first.

  “Can I get you something?” he asked gently.

  “A can of coke, if you have it? Pretty please?”

  “What kind?” he asked in all his southern-adorableness.

  “Coke,” I clarified. “I really need Coke. The um, calories and carbonation will help.” Down South, all pop was referred to as Coke and then you had to clarify from there. It was rather inconvenient if you wanted an actual Coke. I’d had similar conversations to this one ever since I moved back down here for school.

  He turned pleading eyes on Cami and she disappeared into the kitchen. I could hear her moving around and opening cupboards before she returned a minute later with a Coke over ice and a straw to make sipping easy.

  She might not be able to cook worth anything, but she could sure deliver the fizzy beverages like a boss.

  “Thank you.” I took the glass from her and struggled to sit up. Bridger helped me until I was at a good angle. I sipped slowly and tried to avoid both of their worried stares. Every once in a while, Cami would turn her concerned gaze on Bridger and it made my heart squeeze.

  “I’ll take you home when you’re up for it,” Bridger offered. He hadn’t moved from his place by me. I loved the feeling of him next to me. I savored these sweet moments that he’d given me completely.

  I had been afraid to tell Bridger I was sick before, but now I was downright terrified. I hadn’t wanted to make him feel an obligation before. And now that I knew he didn’t, the lies I’d been feeding him settled in my stomach like bitter rocks. I felt heavy and dirty from them.

  But I couldn’t tell him.

  I couldn’t.

  Admitting to Bridger that I was sick, felt like damning whatever future I hoped to have with him. Which might have sounded silly and probably backwards. But Bridger had been weighed down with something himself when we’d first reconnected. I’d watched a heaviness lift from his shoulders over the last
couple weeks and it physically hurt me to imagine chaining him to something else.

  I didn’t know if his pain came from the loss of his parents or something else, but I had seen clearly that he hurt from something.

  I didn’t want to make him hurt anymore.

  I wanted to keep him from pain for the rest of his life.

  If things took a turn for the worse for me, I promised myself I would open up to him. But this round of treatment was almost through and if my Dr. Masters was right with her estimation, I would be cancer free and healthy by the New Year.

  I could wait that long. I could hide it from Bridger for just a little longer.

  I just needed to get through the holiday season.

  And it wasn’t like we were serious or anything. We’d shared two kisses. That was it.

  Granted, they were rather earth-shattering, soul-shaking, life-altering kind of kisses. But there had only been two of them. He hadn’t even asked me to be his girlfriend yet.

  Did guys still do that? Especially in college?

  I didn’t know. I hadn’t dated anyone since I’d gotten sick the first time. That left my experience with this sort of thing seriously lacking.

  Bridger leaned down and gave me a kiss on the forehead.

  It was decided. Between this moment right here and the note that he’d shared from his childhood, I was well on my way to loving this man.

  There was no turning back now.

  Holy hell.

  Bridger Wright, what have you done to me?

  “Ready to go home?” he asked in a gentle voice.

  I found it hard to speak through my new revelation, so I simply nodded and mumbled some kind of positive sound.

  Bridger didn’t hesitate to scoop me up and wrap a blanket around me. I clung to his neck and marveled at how tiny I felt in his arms.

  He waited for Cami to open the door for us before walking with a purpose down to his truck.

  “Thank you for dinner, Cami!” I called out to her. “Sorry, I blacked out on you! I’m not usually this boring.”

  She cracked a smile and some of the suspicion in her pretty blue eyes diffused. “Not a problem! You’ll just have to come back and try again. I’ll cook something, er, gluten-free this time. Do you like sushi?”