Afire (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Grace Jameson

  A long cotton cloth covered the table and a small vase of flowers sat in the middle. A large serving tray was piled high with roast beef sandwiches. Several places were set with cutlery, cloth napkins, and his good crystal glasses filled with iced tea. Very nice. Very domestic. And totally not him. His mood blackened.

  “What the hell is all this?” he groused, waving at the table.

  Jenny started at his gruffness. “I just wanted to make the table look nice for you.”

  “Why the hell would I care about how a table looks? A fork, plate and food are all I need. All this is really for you, not me,” he accused.

  “I thought you’d like it,” she stammered. “Something to make it homier.”

  “My home,” he reminded her. He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Wow. You really like to pretend. Let me be clear. We are not playing house, and you are not the lady of the manor.”

  * * * *

  Jenny was so embarrassed she could barely move. He thought she was just a silly kid. How could she have misread him so badly? She struggled to hold his gaze for several long moments before passing him to clear off the table. She removed the vase and place settings, then refolded the tablecloth and returned it to a sideboard drawer. She reset the table with his everyday plates and cutlery, poured the iced tea into plastic cups, and put the paper napkin holder in its usual center spot. She felt his glower as she moved silently around the kitchen, returning it to its original appearance. Jenny desperately wanted to flee the situation and didn’t know much longer she could hold it together. He looked so angry. His words were killing her, but she was terrified he wasn’t done. She tried to keep her expression impassive, hoping that would mollify him. He extinguished her flicker of hope almost immediately.

  “Don’t give me the sad eyes. I didn’t ask you or want you to take over my house or my life. You’re staying here as a favor. You are a guest. It’s not your place to reorganize my life or house.”

  Her face twisted in bitterness. “Is being in your bed a favor, too?”

  Cal looked at her in exasperation. “This is just sex. A three week affair to scratch an itch. It’s been…fun…but that’s all it is. I thought you understood that.” He dug into the roast beef sandwiches, ending the conversation.

  She leaned against the counter for support and crossed her arms to hide her shaking hands. She pondered him for a moment then spoke so quietly he had to strain to hear her. “You’re not the man I thought you were. My mistake.”

  Jenny didn’t wait for an answer she knew wasn’t coming and left the house. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a dramatic exit, making sure the door closed without a sound. And just like that, she walked silently out his life.

  Jenny was grateful for something to distract her. She began to work her newest mare, Buckaroo, a skittish horse who’d never been saddled or ridden. Each exercise was designed to relax the animal and accept more and more of Jenny’s touches. Singing a silly song very quietly, she eased her way toward the mare’s head and saw the ears turn toward the sound. Leaning down, Jenny breathed into the mare’s nostril once, twice. She felt the mare begin to relax as the animal recognized the familiar manner horses greet each other. Jenny repeated this a few times, watching for signs the mare was becoming more comfortable. Allowing the horse to smell her hand, she eased a finger into the corner of the mare’s mouth and gently skimmed her tongue. The horse chuffed softly in pleasure and nudged Jenny’s hand for another caress. Eventually, Jenny moved her way to the back of the horse and slid two fingers under the tail. She gently rubbed a small area where the tail met skin and heard the mare chuff again and again. She worked her way slowly back to the horse’s head and scratched her forehead.

  Jenny was unaware of her masculine audience watching her work with the horse, caressing and massaging the mare into accepting greater proximity. Not caring to keep his voice down, Eddie nudged Cal and said, “If she touches you like she’s touching that horse, you are one lucky fucking bastard.”

  Cal watched Jenny intently but didn’t answer. He felt Eddie suddenly stiffen beside him and braced for his friend’s anger. His stomach fell when Eddie confirmed what he’d privately acknowledged. “You fucked it up, didn’t you? Well, I guess that just makes you a bastard, then.”

  * * * *

  Caliente had grown curious about this new pet of Jenny’s and nonchalantly moved towards her. She heard the firm clop of his hooves on the dirt but stayed focused on the mare. Caliente was a big baby and liked to be the center of her attention. Jenny felt his warm breath puff on her neck before he rested his heavy head on her shoulder. Despite herself, Jenny laughed at his obvious ploy for attention and scratched his nose. He lowered his head, and his fat velvety lips nibbled at her pants pockets in search of treats, but Jenny ignored him and turned back to Buckaroo.

  Suddenly, Napoleon darted across the corral and frightened the mare. She reared repeatedly, snorting and stomping the ground in agitation. Jenny’s hand slipped on the lead, accidentally bumping Caliente’s nose. Caliente bit Jenny’s hand reactively before bolting from the corral and racing through the field.

  Jenny tried to hold onto the panicked mare’s lead, wincing at the pain in her hand. The men were instantly there, shielding her from the agitated mare. Eddie’s hand grabbed Buckaroo’s halter, and he firmly moved the animal a good distance away from Jenny. Cal turned her from the horse and lifted her hand to his face. A large, dark bruise was already forming on her right hand, and the imprints of Caliente’s teeth were clearly visible. She reluctantly acknowledged to herself that it was a bad bite.

  “Fuck,” Jenny swore viciously. “He hasn’t done that in years.”

  “It’s deep. We need to wash it really well,” he said. She almost thought she heard tenderness in his voice, and then remembered his angry rejection a few hours earlier. The man had some fucking balls, she thought fuming.

  “Don’t touch me,” she hissed, wrenching away from him. “You don’t like touching me, remember?” She jerked her hand back and moved toward the stables. He tried not to recoil at the depth of her hurt. Hurt that he was solely responsible for.

  “Let me look at it,” he persisted tonelessly.

  “Oh, for the love of Christ,” she hurled bitterly. “I’m fine. It’s a bite. The second one today, only this one won’t bleed as badly.”

  “Jenny,” he started uncomfortably. “I...”

  “Oh, God, there’s more?” she cried in despair, “What could there possibly be left to say? Please. I get it. I’m just a fuck.”

  Jenny pulled away from him and led the calmed mare back into the barn.

  * * * *

  Jenny stripped down and stepped under the soothing warm water. Aiming the shower head lower, she washed her hand thoroughly before letting the water rinse the soap away. Satisfied the wound was clean, she scrubbed away the day’s grime and washed her hair. She reached for her razor then reminded herself there was no one to shave her legs for. Fuck it, Caliente wouldn’t care.

  She was almost in her room when she heard her cell phone ringing. She recognized Tim’s ringtone and debated not answering. No, then he’d call Cal. She answered the phone and heard her brother’s bubbly voice. She tried to respond lightheartedly, but Tim challenged her almost immediately.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked with obvious concern.

  Jenny tried to reassure him. “Nothing. Everything’s fine. How are Mom and Dad?”

  “They’re fine. What’s happened? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

  Jenny’s control crumpled, and she started to cry. “It’s ruined. It’s all ruined. He hates me.”

  “Cal? Jenny, Cal doesn’t hate you,” Tim tried to reassure her

  “He does. He hated the table and said it was an itch,” she hiccupped.

  “I don’t understand. Why is the table itchy?”

  Jenny was having trouble talking through her tears and said, “I have to go,” before shutting the cell phone. She buried her head under the p
illow and cried herself to sleep.

  Jenny didn’t know how long she slept, but the sky was streaked with ribbons of purple and pink when she woke. She rubbed her red, scratchy eyes and blew her nose before dressing for chores. She moved listlessly, finally making it to the kitchen to put on her boots. As she walked across the porch to the stairs, she heard booted footsteps behind her and turned to see Cal push away from the porch railing and move toward her.

  “Did you want dinner in about an hour? I think we have meatloaf,” he said, desperate to fill the silence.

  Jenny kept walking, heading down the steps. “Not tonight, thanks. I’m not hungry.”

  * * * *

  Cal tossed back another beer, drowning in the sharp regret of her absence. And to know he’d hurt her so deliberately. She’d looked so small as she’d headed to the refuge of her stables. His mind kept replaying what he’d said, the look on her face when he’d told her she was just a convenient bedmate, and his felt his stomach knot. Tears stung his eyes. He really was a bastard.

  His shoulders slumped and he felt a gnawing ache at her absence. She didn’t want to be near him emotionally or physically, and he felt the void acutely. Cal hated seeing his Jenny so sad. His plan to stem the pain of her leaving him had backfired, and now they were both hurt and upset. He’d done it to himself, and he absolutely deserved her censure. He reminded himself that this is what he wanted, but he couldn’t remember ever feeling emptier.

  * * * *

  Jenny was still in the barn when a truck sped up the lane. Tim hopped out and strode angrily toward Cal, fully prepared to give him shit for the way he’d upset Jenny. He liked Cal, he really did, but he wasn’t going to let him treat Jenny this way. He was in full fury by the time he’d reached the porch, then skidded to a surprised stop.

  Tim had seen Cal drink the odd beer, but the man weaving in front of him was surrounded by empty bottles. His confusion about Cal’s behavior flooded back. What the hell was going on? Jenny was crying over Cal, but Cal looked just as devastated. He’d seen the covert glances between them, the special attention Cal paid to Jenny at family gatherings and livestock events, and the pretty gifts he slipped to her on Christmas and her birthdays when he thought no one was watching. So if she meant so much to him, why was his sister sitting in a barn crying?

  “Cal.” Tim nodded perfunctorily.

  Cal raised his beer and looked at Tim through goggled eyes.

  “I talked to Jenny this afternoon, Cal. And I mean that I actually did the talking because she was crying. She said something about a table cloth and an itch. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but I figured you could fill me in. She thinks you hate her. She have any reason to think that, Cal?”

  Cal gave a low moan that Tim bet he was unaware of. “I don’t hate her. I could never hate her. She’s everything.”

  Tim rolled his eyes and struggled for patience. “Okay, let’s try this. Why were you angry about a table?”

  “It was too much. It was all too much. Plates and glass and flowers and stuff.”

  Tim tried to sort the pieces. “So, she took over?”

  “Yes!” Cal mumbled in agreement, sloshing his beer. “So many people.”

  Tim watched him for a moment. “You’re used to being alone, aren’t you Cal?”

  He saw Cal’s eyes glisten “Yeah.”

  “Good. Because that’s how you’re going to be if you keep this shit up,” Tim said abruptly.

  Cal looked up in surprise and narrowed his eyes. “She was going to leave anyway.”

  “Ah,” Tim said with sudden insight. “So, better to throw her away before she goes away.”

  Cal’s bravado deflated instantly, and he visibly teared up. “I don’t think I could take that,” he whispered. “I’m so old for her. One day, she’ll want to do things and she’ll just go.” He slouched down in the porch swing and took a deep swig.

  Tim closed his eyes in frustration but recognized they’d finally hit on the truth. Tim watched him thoughtfully and debated telling Cal something he knew Jenny hadn’t. “She was engaged when you two met. Did you know that?” Cal’s head shot up. “Jenny ended the engagement the week you met. That’s how sure she was that there was something between you. She’s already given up a lot, so she’s not going anywhere. Unless you make her.”

  He left Cal to stew, pet the lumbering Swiss Miss on the head, and watched as she dropped her enormous head in her master’s lap. One down, one to go…

  * * * *

  Tim went in search of his sister, worry weighing on him. Yeah, she lobbed fruit at his head for no particular reason, but at the end of the day, after all that, she was still his sister. She was loyal and loving, and he wanted to see her happy. He found Jenny in a stall, crooning nonsense to a restless dove-grey gelding as she groomed his flank. The sharp sting of a flicked tail in her face made Jenny swear under her breath. “Just like a man. Swatting the one who cares about you.” She left the stall in irritation, banging the door behind her, and turned right into her brother.

  He stood quietly, watching as her eyes first showed surprise, then welled with tears. He silently held his arms open, and she stepped into them. Her tenuous control broke at his comforting embrace. Tim held her gently, stroking her hair while she cried softly. After a few minutes, he felt her breathing calm and the hiccupping stop.

  “Okay?” he asked gently. Jenny suddenly felt ridiculous and wondered if he thought she was an adult drama queen. She swiped roughly at her tearstained cheeks in embarrassment and gave him a weak laugh. “Sorry about that. Must be PMS-ing.”

  He tilted his head quizzically and tugged her over to sit beside him on a stack of straw bales. Scratching distractedly at a mud stain on the knee of his pants, Tim voiced his concern. “I was worried about you this afternoon. I hated hearing you crying, and then you hung up. I wanted to see for myself that you’re okay. What happened with Cal?”

  “Hmm,” she laughed in self-derision, “I pushed too hard. I thought things were going really well. Thought we really had a shot. He seemed interested,” she said, shrugging, “but I guess I read it wrong. I don’t really have any right to be upset. He didn’t make any promises, but...”

  “You hoped,” he finished. She nodded, playing with her shirt to avoid looking at him. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Jenny. You never know if you don’t take a chance. It sounds like he gave you reason to think it might go beyond this.”

  She nodded again, a red tint flushing her cheeks.

  “Ah,” Tim read her blush accurately. Winking, he teased, “You guys are knocking boots. Hope he was more than a minute man.”

  She rubbed her palms against her eyes to block out his knowing smile. “Jesus, Tim. Moving right along from miserable to mortified.”

  “Good,” he said matter-of-factly. “Better embarrassed than upset.” Tim nudged her shoulder with his own. “Seriously, Jenny, do you want me to take you home tonight? I can get your stuff and have you at Aunt C’s before midnight. I can take care of the horses.”

  Jenny slowly shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m going to stay unless he asks me to leave.” She put her hand on his arm when he protested. “I’m not staying because I think I’ll change his mind. He was clear, and I have to accept his decision.” She glanced at him in hurt confusion. “I guess I just can’t believe how easily he ended it.”

  “I don’t think anything about this has been easy for him, Jenny.” He held his hand up when she threw him an incredulous glance. “If the door slamming and drinking is anything to go by, Cal’s not happy about this either. He’s fought this, fought you, a long time, Jen. You’ve always pushed pretty hard with him, but he’s resisted. This time though, he initiated it. He called us, dad didn’t call him. When he offered to board the horses, he knew it was you who’d be staying at the house.” She contemplated his words as he continued, “He’s never made a secret that your age difference makes him uneasy, and I think he’s right to at least think about it. Fifteen years when you’re twe
nty-four is a big difference. Cal would be over forty when your first kid was born. You haven’t finished university, and that would be put on the back burner while you focused on your family. Instant family. That’s a lot of changes in a short time. Especially for a guy who’s lived alone for a very long time.” Tim sighed. “I’m not saying he’s handled this well, and frankly I’d like to kick him in the ‘nads, but I understand what he’s worried about. In a fucked up way, forcing you to move on shows he loves you enough to let you go for good.”

  Jenny met his gaze, knowing her eyes filled. “I’ve loved him a long time, Tim. This isn’t a crush. I broke off the engagement with Justin because of him.”

  “I know,” Tim murmured. “If you change your mind about leaving, just give me a call, okay?”

  They walked silently back to his truck, cricket song ringing through the brisk night air. She gave him a quick hug and thanked him for checking on her.

  “I love you, even if you are a pain in the ass,” Tim said. “Call if you need me.”

  She nodded in promise and watched him drive away. The cottage chairs on the porch beckoned, and Jenny accepted their refuge. Curled into the deep wooden chair, she looked up at the dark blue night sky freckled with bright stars. Eventually, the cool air forced her indoors. She steeled herself for a tense confrontation and was surprised at the stillness as she unlaced her boots. She moved quietly, her thick socks silent against the hardwood floor.

  Then she saw him. Sprawled at an uncomfortable angle on the couch. He was asleep, one arm thrown out towards the table littered with empty beer bottles. She moved his arm onto the couch and tucked a navy wool throw over him. As she slipped from the room, she heard Cal mutter her name before falling back into a restless sleep.