Country Nights

by Winter Renshaw

  “I still love you.”

  Wrapping her in my arms, I carry her to the house, kissing her neck as her hands rake through my hair. Taking her up the stairs, her body slides down when we reach the top, and I press her against the hall wall, ripping at her shirt until it’s tossed aside and pulling at her shorts until they’re lying at her feet.

  Lowering myself to my knees, I slide her panties down her thighs and press my mouth against her sweet mound. She tastes like heaven and she’s all mine. Dragging my tongue along her seam, I circle her clit before sliding a finger inside.

  Leighton moans, her hands splaying flat against the walls as she widens her legs and begs for more.

  Devouring her, I show her no mercy, bringing her to the edge until she fists my hair and forces me away.

  “I want the rest of you,” she says, breathless, our lust-filled gazes fastening.

  Slowly rising, I tower over her, lowering my mouth to hers and leaving the taste of her sweet arousal on her tongue as she works my belt and shoves my jeans down. With my hand sliding along her outer thighs, I lift them against my sides, positioning her slick pussy right where it belongs. Gripping my throbbing cock, I slide into her, pushing deeper, harder, feeling the clench of her body followed by the sweet release and the look in her eyes that tells me she’s giving herself to me completely.

  My hips jut, back and forth, my cock pistoning deeper inside of her with each thrust, unsatisfied unless I’m feeling every inch of her sliding down every inch of me.

  “I missed you so much,” she breathes, her lips passing over mine and stealing another taste. “I’m never going to leave you again.”

  “I love you, Leighton.” My lips move from her jaw to her ear to her neck before settling on her collarbone. “Never leave me again.”

  “I promise.” She kisses my forehead, and I carry her to my bedroom, our bodies still connected.

  It’s been years since another person has set foot in here, but tonight, I’m ready.

  I’m ready to finally move forward.

  I’m done treading the same old dark waters.

  I want to love her. And I want to feel her love.

  And more importantly, I want to feel worthy of her love because at the end of the day, you can’t give love fully if you can’t accept it in return.

  Placing her in the center of my bed, I climb over her, creating a temple with our bodies … just the two of us.

  Nothing else exists … no one else exists.

  There is no world outside our door, nothing—and no one—to steal this moment from us.

  The moment we finish, I roll to the side, pulling her over top of me and holding her. Since the moment she left, all I wanted to do was hold her, feel her skin on mine and let our hearts do the talking.

  Kissing her forehead, I close my eyes, wanting to stay awake to bask in this moment a bit longer, but too tired to fight it.

  But when the dog barks outside, I sit up, suddenly awake.

  “What is it?” she asks, brushing her hair from her eyes and pulling a bed sheet around her swollen breasts.

  Moving to the window, I spot a shiny black truck.

  “Seth,” I say, my jaw clenched. “Stay here.”

  “River, don’t.” She scrambles after me, tugging at my arms as I find my jeans in the hallway and try to tug them on. “Just ignore him.”

  Ignoring her, I head outside, flinging the screen door against the house and charging at him with clenched fists.

  “What the fuck, River?” he says, arms wide. “Fucking Brandt Hallifax? Buddy of mine at the sheriff’s office let me know you guys are running some kind of gambit against me, trying to get me to go down for your crime. Not going to happen. I’m not taking the fall for that. You left that man for dead, not me.”

  “It’s over,” I say. “I know the truth. I know what you did that night.”

  “You don’t know shit.” Spittle flies from his mouth when he talks. His voice may be calm, but the rest of him is shaking, filled with a cocktail of rage and fear. “You were nothing without us. Just some poor foster kid with dirty hair that nobody wanted. We took you in, gave you a family.”

  “What family? You convinced Mom and Dad that I was some outcast monster before they died, telling them I’d done horrible things,” I say. “All so you could keep the inheritance to yourself like a fucking pathetic moron who couldn’t get off the tit long enough to support himself.”

  Seth charges at me, his fist pulled back, but I dodge him, and he falls forward, landing on his hands and knees.

  He’s been drinking, the stench of liquor wafting off his uncoordinated body.

  Standing behind him, I watch as he steadies himself on his knees, but I can’t resist the urge to kick him when he’s down.

  So I do.

  And it feels fucking incredible.

  He flies forward, landing on his face.

  “What the fuck?!” he screams.

  When I kick his side, he rolls to his back, and I stand over him, placing my boot on his sternum.

  “I’m giving you one goddamn chance to come clean, or I’m going to kick in those pretty little teeth of yours,” I growl.

  “Fuck you.” He tries to spit at me, only it lands on his shirt.

  Pressing my boot into his chest, I apply enough pressure to make him cough and choke for air.

  “One fucking chance. Take it or leave it.”

  “Nobody would’ve believed it was me anyway,” he said. “You were the damaged one. You were the troubled kid that nobody wanted. You had no future. I did.”

  It takes everything I have not to grind my heel into his windpipe.

  “You were always trying to show me up,” he said. “You were better at farming than me. You got better grades in school. Didn’t matter how friendly I was, people still gravitated toward you. And I fucking hated you for it.”

  I step off of him, letting the sad sack of shit scramble to a standing position.

  He sways, adjusting his disheveled clothes and leering at me with unfocused eyes like some goddamned lunatic.

  “No one’s going to believe you assholes,” he says, pointing. “Brandt was drunk and you were passed out. The evidence is gone. Nobody has proof that I moved you into the driver’s seat.”

  “So you admit it.”

  “Of course I fucking admit it. I did what I had to do, and I don’t regret it.” He snickers. “Keeping you under my thumb for the last decade, letting everyone treat you like the reject you are, best fucking thing I ever did.”

  A flash of red and blue comes over the hill.

  Leighton must have called the police.

  “The fuck.” Seth spots the deputy’s car and makes a beeline for his truck, but I grab his arm and twist it behind his back.

  “Stay put, jackass.”

  The deputy cruises to a quick halt before jumping out and assessing the scene. “We got a report of a drunk driver, possible domestic disturbance.”

  Leighton steps out from behind the front door, her phone in hand. “Yes, Officer. I’m the one who called. This man showed up at our house, drunk and disorderly. He also confessed to a homicide, and I have it all on video.”

  Sweet Jesus.

  I love this woman.

  Chapter Fifty

  Leighton

  “…and now we turn to a story about a recent development in a decade-old hit-and-run investigation,” the local report plays in the background as River and I finish breakfast Sunday morning. “Seth McCray of Bonesteel Creek has been arrested and charged with the death of then-thirty-seven-year-old Rodney Hart, also of Bonesteel Creek …”

  “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear someone say those words,” I tell River.

  He takes my hand in his, kissing the top. “I can imagine.”

  “You ready to take Ms. Ada Flowers to church?” I ask.

  “Today would’ve been a perfect day for staying in bed,” he groans, standing and adjusting his tie.

  “We’ve got
all day to catch up on sleep.”

  “Who said anything about sleep?” He takes my hand, pulling me up and wrapping his arms around me. His face buries into the bend of my neck and he nips my flesh between his perfect teeth before soothing it with a kiss. “I can’t wait to have you again.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to. Church starts in thirty minutes.”

  I help Ada out of River’s truck, standing back as she trots across the parking lot, waving at her friends like a schoolgirl running toward a playground. I hope to be half as spunky as she is in my old age.

  The church bells ring, and I take a look around.

  “You going inside today?” I ask.

  “Nah. Not today.”

  Following his gaze to a little field across the street, I’m taken aback. I’m not sure how I missed it before, but across the street is Resting Hills Cemetery. River’s glancing that way, and I realize now that all those times he stayed back while Ada went into church, he was probably visiting his family.

  “Mind if I join you today?” I ask. “I don’t want to intrude or anything, but I’d really like to meet them, pay my respects.”

  Our eyes intersect and he shifts in his place for a second. I hope I didn’t make him uncomfortable or cross a line that wasn’t ready to be crossed yet.

  “Yeah,” he says after giving it some thought. “That’d be nice.”

  Coming around the back of the truck, he takes my hand and leads me across the road, and along the way, I stop and pluck a handful of wildflowers from the ditch.

  Walking a stone path that leads to a shady maple, we approach a granite headstone with McCray etched across it and the names Allison, Emma, and Cannon beneath.

  “If it’s okay with you, I’d like a moment alone?” I ask.

  He scratches above his ear, pulling in a long breath before taking a few steps back and sliding his hands in his pockets.

  I take a seat on the plush grass that covers their final resting place, tucking my knees beneath me and gathering my thoughts. Turning around, I make sure River is out of earshot. I’ve never spoken to a headstone before—Dad was cremated—and it feels a little silly, but there are some things I need to say to Allison, and this seems like the best way to do it.

  “Hi, Allison. I’m Leighton.” This feels ridiculous, but I continue. “I just wanted to let you know that River’s in good hands.” I clear my throat, pulling at the tall grass between my fingers. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to spend your life with him like the two of you planned, but I want you to know that I’m going to personally see to it that he’s happy and loved and cared for, the way you would’ve wanted.” My love of him brings a bittersweet smile to my face. “He’s a good man, and I know you know that. I just want you to know I know it too. He’s got a big heart. Even if he doesn’t always want to admit it, which I’m sure you also know. Anyway, I know I haven’t known him that long, but I’ve known him long enough to know he’s special. And I’ve known him long enough to know that I love his heart. And his soul. And everything about him. I also know he likes his eggs over easy. He goes to the Old Home Diner at least twice a week. And his favorite color is navy blue. I also know that he’s a great dancer, and he’s good with his hands. He can fix just about anything. My dad would’ve loved him. Anyway, I just wanted you to know I’m pretty crazy about him, and I’m going to love all those random things about him just as much as you once did.”

  A barn swallow sings a cheerful warble in the tree above, swooping down before landing on top of her headstone.

  “I can never be you,” I continue. “And we can never have what you two had. But I believe there’s room for two great loves in this man’s life, and I think that makes him pretty lucky.”

  Rising, I inhale the sweet scent of the country wildflowers before placing them along the top of the gravestone.

  “Allison … Emma … Cannon …” I say, tracing my hand across their names. “Until next time.”

  Turning back to River, a flood of peace and warmth washes over me and warm sunlight kisses the top of my head.

  Taking my hand in his, he kisses me. “How’d it go? You say what you wanted to say?”

  My smiling lips graze his. “Yeah. I did.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  River

  “You look good on that horse.” I ride behind Leighton Wednesday evening after dinner. “You’re a real natural.”

  “Stop checking out my ass,” she calls out, her shiny riding boots resting in the stirrups of her palomino’s saddle.

  “Nothing wrong with enjoying the view.”

  She pulls her horse, Soraya, to a stop, waiting for me to catch up, and the dog trails behind us, sniffing rocks and cow pies every so often.

  “Where are we headed anyway? I’m not familiar with this trail.” She peers around the wide-open space. My property spans from horizon to horizon.

  “We can go anywhere you want,” I say. “We don’t have to stick to the trail. Everything you see from here is mine. Go wherever you want. I’ll be right beside you.”

  “What about that butte over there.” She points, shielding her eyes with her other hand. “Do you own that butte?”

  “I do.”

  She loosens Soraya’s reins and gives her a gentle kick, and we head toward one of the biggest buttes in Bonesteel County. Ten minutes later, we stop the horses at the bottom and dismount, hiking the rest of the way to the top.

  “This view is everything,” she says, slipping her hand around my lower back. “I could never get tired of this.”

  “Same.”

  Peering up at me, a mischievous grin claims her face. “Have you named this one yet?”

  “Leighton, it’s a giant rock, not a damn dog.” I chuckle, shaking my head.

  “People name mountains. Why is it so odd for a butte to have a name?” She elbows me. “If this guy is nameless, I’d love to have the honors.”

  “Be my guest.”

  “We should call it Tibbs Butte.”

  “As in … Casey Tibbs?”

  “Yeah.” She laughs. “The guy who rented out your house online. I mean, not the real Casey Tibbs, but you know what I mean.”

  “Tibbs Butte it is.”

  For a second, I find myself imagining her dressed in white, standing here on top of Tibbs Butte, flowers in her hair and love in her gleaming eyes.

  I’m going to marry this woman.

  I’m going to marry her right here, on top of this butte, overlooking our land and the life we’ll build together as we embrace the second chance at happiness we were so generously given.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Leighton

  “Molly and Guy just pulled up,” I tell River Saturday afternoon. I was putting groceries away when he came in with a cut on his hand.

  Cleaning him up, I inspect my work before letting him go.

  “Wonder what they need?” he asks, heading outside to talk to Guy.

  A moment later, Molly walks in. “Hey, lady. Guy just needed to borrow a tool from River. We won’t be in your hair very long.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Stay as long as you want.” I move toward the cupboard. “You want something to drink?”

  “No, no. I’m fine. We’ll be leaving here in a few minutes. I just wanted to stop in and say hi.” Her hooded eyes glint and her lips fight a smirk. “Also … I had a dream last night that you were pregnant.”

  “Molly.” I slam the cupboard door. “Don’t scare me like that.”

  “You’re not pregnant now,” she says, waving her hand. “At least I don’t think you are. But in my dream, you were having twins. A boy and a girl.”

  “I like the idea of twins, but I’m guessing the reality is …”

  “If you have a girl, you have to share her with me. I’d kill for ribbons and bows,” she says. “You’ll share her with me, right?”

  I laugh. “Of course.”

  Molly hooks her muscled arm over my shoulder. “Let’s check on the men, shall we? Guy�
��s probably chatting River’s ear off. He read this article about pesticides the other day and it’s all he can talk about right now.”

  Guy and River stand in the middle of the front yard, and Molly and I take the rocking chairs. A warm breeze kisses my face, and River turns, meeting my gaze with a smile that makes me feel like it’s only the two of us.

  He does that, looks at me like I’m his whole world, and it makes me melt from the inside out.

  The second Guy and Molly leave, I’m going to be all over that man, loving on him, kissing on him.

  One of the Fasthorse boys climbs out of the back of the Suburban. “Mom! We have soccer tonight.”

  “Oh, shoot.” Molly springs up. “Totally forgot. Guy, we gotta go. Cooper has soccer. Leighton, I’ll catch you later?”

  River comes to my side, and I wave, watching as they drive away a minute later. My heart is filled with so much bliss it’s on the verge of exploding. Being here, on my family’s farm, with River McCray, makes everything feel like it’s finally come full circle.

  I could stay here forever, on this little piece of heaven, and never get tired of the view. Or the company.

  For the first time in over a decade, home feels like home again.

  And this time, I’m never leaving.

  Epilogue

  River

  Two years later …

  My wife cradles our newborn infants in her tired arms, rocking them to sleep in the nursery they share. She hasn’t taken her eyes off of them since the moment they were placed in her arms. Asher Cannon has her dark hair and pointy chin, and Autumn Emma has my nose and ears.

  A year ago we exchanged vows on top of Tibbs Butte, surrounded by her family and my friends. It was a small, intimate ceremony with handwritten vows. When it was over, we released two white doves while our loved ones cheered with happy tears in their eyes. Grandma Joyce cried the most and cheered the loudest, and while she’s no longer with us, I know she’s resting peacefully with her beloved John, looking down on her favorite grandchild and knowing she’s happy and loved, her dying wish granted.