by Carter Ashby
Inside the house, she was packing away the last of the romance novels and games into boxes. She'd already tidied the kitchen and re-covered the furniture. Earlier that morning they'd returned the mattress upstairs.
She looked up from where she knelt next to the box of books and smiled. "You got it out okay?"
"No problem," Travis said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for her.
"Great!" She folded the box closed and then hopped to her feet. She wiped her hands on her skirt, the same one she'd worn when he'd first picked her up, and beamed at him. "Are we ready, then?"
He nodded. She was so happy. So happy to be going home. Not at all sad that she wouldn't be sleeping next to him tonight.
She skipped to the front door and had her hand on the handle when Travis came up behind her and put his hand on the door above her head, holding it closed.
"I need to say something before we go back and go our separate ways," he said.
She turned to him and the smile died on her face. "I wish you wouldn't," she said. "I think we've got a great start to a wonderful friendship and I'm afraid you're just going to ruin it."
"That's fine with me," he said. "I don't need another friend. What I do need is you. For however long I can have you. Forever would be my preference."
Her jaw jutted out slightly, she folded her arms over her chest and looked away. One of her many spoiled princess poses.
"I love you, Arden," he said. And his heart rate sped up at the sound of the words coming out of his mouth. The commitment of them. The excitement and possibility of them. He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I love you," he said again.
She looked at him, her expression softening just a bit, although she was clearly trying with all her might to be hard. "Is that what you wanted to say?"
He swallowed down the ache in his chest. "Yeah. That's all. I just needed you to know."
She nodded. He dropped his hand and stepped back so she could open the door. He couldn't look at her. He waited, but she didn't open the door and so he had to look at her. Her hands fidgeted at her waist and she looked uncertain...a strange thing for her. "It's just...maybe if I was unhappy with my current arrangement with Nick...but I've got no reason to leave him."
Travis held his breath in and tried not to get excited. Maybe he could still sell this. "If you like me better, isn't that a good enough reason?"
She shook her head. "How would you feel if I promised to marry you and then found someone else I liked better and left you. That's not my idea of commitment. Nick and I have been together a very long time. Of course the passion has faded. It always does. So it would be wrong of me to drop a solid, promising relationship for the excitement of a new passion that will also fade someday."
"I understand, Arden. It makes sense. You're right in the hypothetical sense. But what's happened to you and Nick...it's not the same. If you loved him, there would still be passion. But you don't love him. It's wrong to stay with him when you don't love him."
"I don't like it when you tell me that I don't love him. I do. I always have. I'm staying with him and that's that. I'm not interested in you. You'd be fun for a few weeks and then I'd be bored."
Travis frowned, stung by the harshness of her words.
"I know you say you love me. But I don't love you. I think you're a great guy and I want to be friends. But that's it. Okay?"
He wanted to grab her and kiss her and make her love him. He watched her as she stood tall and cold and untouchable. She didn't want him. If she did she would touch him or show some sign of regret at refusing him or maybe even kiss him. But she put the whole world in between them and even though she was only an arm's length away, he couldn't have touched her if he tried.
He nodded. "Okay," he said, mentally cursing his weak voice. "If you change your mind..."
"I won't." She turned and opened the door and walked to the truck.
Travis followed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Arden still lived with her parents. Splitlog hosted several apartment complexes, but none suited her needs. There were two sets on the broken down part of town, furthest from the river. Small rooms, mold and flea infestations, and dodgy window AC units. Then there were the three-bedroom duplexes over on Sycamore street which were pretty nice...but not as nice as the entire second story of the Butler's mini mansion on The Hill, which Arden had entirely to herself.
It was to this destination that Arden was now headed. After five days, the snow and ice had finally melted enough for Travis to get the truck out of the ditch. Now she sat next to him on the slow drive home. She fidgeted with her hands in her lap and gnawed on her bottom lip.
"Relax," Travis growled.
She glanced up at him. "I'm worried about you."
He barked a laugh. "Right. Sure you are."
Arden shook her head and stared out the window. They were only three miles out of town but the going was a little slower than normal. She watched the trees in the wind as they rained down clumps of melting snow. "Maybe we could get together for lunch tomorrow."
She could sense his hands tightening on the steering wheel. "I don't want to be friends," he said, his voice low and menacing. It couldn't fool her, though. It had taken her all of an hour to realize that Travis was a sweetheart on the inside. He just didn't look the part. Especially now, his flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, the muscles in his forearms flexing. He had a short, shaggy beard flecked with gray. Arden smiled up at him. He looked like a mountain man. And not a friendly one.
"You've got gray in your beard," she said, laughing and reaching up to touch his face.
He jerked his head away like a little kid and shot her a glare. "I do not."
"Look in the mirror."
She watched as he reluctantly pulled down the visor and flipped up the mirror. Then he cursed, snapped the mirror closed and pushed the visor back up.
"Don't be grumpy. Gray hairs are sexy. They make you look older and more distinguished."
She finally got a grin out of him. She loved to make him smile. "Sexy, huh?" he said. But slowly his expression soured again. "A lot of good that'll do me."
She sighed, feeling her patience wan. "You're being unreasonable."
"I'm unreasonable because I have feelings?"
"You're unreasonable because you let your feelings dictate your actions. Me...I'm reasonable. I take into consideration my feelings but I don't let them control me."
Travis grunted.
"Just look at this situation with Duane," Arden went on. "You love him, so you do everything for him even though any one with eyes can see that he's a lost cause."
"You don't get to talk about my brother," Travis said. "That's none of your business. And you don't know him anyway. He's a good kid."
"No," Arden said. "You were a good kid. Duane is not."
Travis pounded a fist on the steering wheel. "Keep talking and you can walk home."
Arden shut up. She knew her limits. She also knew Travis and his reaction was extremely predictable, so much so that she wasn't even startled at his response. There was no other subject in the world that brought out his ire more than Duane. Arden ached to help him see, to reason with him that he would be so much better off if he could just let Duane go. But Travis was stubborn. And loyal. And too full of love for his own good. Not bad flaws to have, all-in-all.
They were in town now, only two minutes from home. The Christmas decorations were hanging from the lampposts, but they did little to cheer up the gloomy, soggy atmosphere that morning. Travis made a left turn down the street that led through the woods and up the hill to the wealthiest subdivision in Splitlog. He made another left turn up the driveway to the fanciest house in the county. He threw the truck into park, got out and came around to open Arden's door.
"Your highness," he said, bowing sarcastically.
Arden glared at him and slapped him on the arm. She started to walk on up to her door, but Travis caught her by the wrist. She turned and looked up at him,
slightly offended at being grabbed so harshly. He seemed to notice. He swallowed and let go of her arm.
"Um," he started and then cleared his throat. "I guess we could have lunch tomorrow."
Arden felt warmth in her cold, icy heart. "As friends?" she asked, beaming up at him.
He shrugged. "If that's all you're offering, I guess I'll take it."
She threw her arms around his neck and he lifted her off her feet in a big bear hug. She felt his strong hands splayed across her back and the pounding of his heart against her chest. His hug made her think of wine and firelight and soft music. She nuzzled her face into his neck and he squeezed her a little tighter.
And then suddenly she remembered that it wouldn't be that way. Not at all. Not with him. She pushed away and kicked her feet. Her right foot connected with his shin and he dropped her to the ground. She backed away, glaring up at him. "It wouldn't be wine and a fireplace and cello music. It would be beer and bonfires and loud, twangy Hank Williams Jr. I don't want that, Travis, and you're not going to make me feel like a bitch for wanting something better for myself!"
Travis gawked. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I don't want you! I want Nick. And that's that and you're not going to trick me into changing my mind." She turned on her heel and pounded pavement up to her door.
"So I guess lunch is off!" he shouted after her.
She answered by storming inside and slamming the door behind her. She looked around and was grateful her parents were nowhere in the immediate vicinity. She ran upstairs to her bathroom, stripped and climbed into a hot shower. With the water running down her face, she could pretend there weren't any tears.
Arden's parents were anxiously awaiting her in the living room when she finally decided to go downstairs. She'd postponed it with an extra long shower and a few minutes of reacquainting herself with her soft, king-sized bed and big, cushy pillows. But she'd decided it would be rude to nap without filling her parents in on the details of her little ordeal. So she looked in the mirror, lifted her brows and placed a prim little smile on her lips. Then she bounced down the steps with enough pep to offer her parents' some relief, but not so much that she seemed overly excited about anything.
Her mother had coffee set up in the living room. When Arden walked in, the aroma nearly lifted her off her feet, which made her think of Travis, which made her frown and thereby caused her mother to straighten in alarm. "Baby girl, I was so worried about you!" Laura Butler said, jumping to her feet and opening her arms.
Arden smiled and embraced her mother. They sat on the sofa and Laura poured her a cup of coffee. They could have been twins if not for the age difference. Laura was Arden, twenty-years later. Both were of average height with shoulder-length blond hair and light brown eyes. Both were slim with slight features. And both carried themselves with an indefinable air of superiority.
"I was perfectly safe, Mom," Arden said. She smiled at her father who sat on the other sofa across the coffee table from them.
"I hope you don't mind," Laura said, "but I went ahead and called Nick. He'll be over shortly. I know he was worried sick, especially not knowing anything about this mechanic."
"Travis. He's okay. Ask anyone around town. He has a good reputation." Arden sipped her coffee and leaned back against the cushions of the couch. She swore to herself that she would never again take for granted central heat.
"A good reputation," her father said, "if you don't count bar-fighting and womanizing. And if you overlook the fact that he comes from a family of deadbeats and criminals."
Laura placed a pale hand over her chest. "Oh dear," she gasped.
Arden groaned and sipped her coffee. "I got to know him quite well. He's a good man. And maybe he gets in a lot of fights, but he's not a womanizer." A flirt, yes. Deadly charming, for sure. But generally very respectful.
"You know what people will say when it gets out that you spent four nights alone with him," her father said.
"Yes, I know," she groaned again.
"I just want you to be prepared in your mind. And..."
She was startled that he hesitated. Mark Butler spoke his mind boldly. "What?" she asked.
"And...I wanted to make sure that Mr. Lanier treated you...um...respectfully...and not in any way...inappropriately."
Arden's jaw dropped. "I'm engaged! You think I would sleep with another man while I'm engaged? After knowing him only a few days? How could you think that of me?"
Mark squirmed and cleared his throat and looked away.
"Sweetheart," Laura said, "It isn't that we don't trust you...but you were in a stressful situation and sometimes in instances like that..."
Arden slammed her coffee mug on the table, spilling a little coffee out onto the newspaper beneath it. She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted out her jaw. It was one of many of her Princess Poses, as Travis liked to call them.
"Don't be offended, Arden," Mark said gently.
"I am offended. I have mountains of moral fortitude and you people, my own parents, seem to think me capable of crumbling at the mere hint of danger and a handsome rescuer."
"Honey, please," Laura said. "It's just that people will talk."
"And you want to be able to truthfully refute any rumors?" Arden asked. "Well rest assured, I did not sleep with Travis." Not that I didn't want to, she thought. And then she sat taller with pride at the self-discipline she had displayed. God knows he had begged often enough. Poor man.
There was an awkward silence which Arden enjoyed since her parents looked mildly ashamed of themselves. She reached for her coffee cup and then paused as she saw the folded up Splitlog Chronicle on the table. The front page carried the headline, "Lloyd Redding Found Dead, Suicide." Arden picked up the paper. "Did you guys see this?"
There were audible sighs of relief from both parents at the subject change. Mark shook his head and Laura said, "Tragic. Just tragic."
None of them knew Lloyd well. He was her parents' age but very far from sharing their circle of friends. He owned a few trailers that he rented out and was generally known about town as a heavy drinker. But reading about this death so close to her experience at the Raymer's sent chills throughout her body. She was about to share this with her parents, but Mark spoke up first. "Where was it you and this...Travis...ended up taking shelter?"
"At the Raymer house. We had to bust down the door because..."
"Why did you have to break in?" Laura interrupted, clearly shocked at the prospect. "Weren't the Raymers at home?"
Arden laughed sharply. It was a question with an odd and disturbing answer. "No. The bank seized the property a couple of weeks ago. The Raymers..."
"So you were there without food or water?" Laura's voice pitched higher, a mixture of concern and distaste in her expression.
"There was water. It was just really cold. No electricity. But Travis kept a fire going. And there was a lot of canned food in the pantry, so we made do."
Laura's mouth hung open in disgust. She couldn't fathom living in such primitive conditions. "My poor baby!" she cried.
Arden rolled her eyes. "Mom, please..."
"You've been through so much! Let me call Dr. Weston."
"I don't need therapy, Mom."
"For God's sake, Laura," Mark chimed in. "You're completely overreacting. She was basically just camping."
"Camping?" Laura, who had never spent the night out of doors in her life, shrieked. She looked even more appalled than before.
Arden suppressed a grin.
The doorbell chimed, then. Mark went to answer it and came back with Nick at his side.
Nick was a beautiful young man. Everyone in their circle of friends couldn't wait to see the babies that these two produced. Nick, like Arden, was blond, but a few shades darker. He was raised driving boats and swimming in the big, slow river that snaked along the border of Splitlog. As a result, even in the winter, he was always tan, lean and smelling vaguely of sunscreen. He smiled when he saw Arden and held
wide his arms.
Arden plastered on her best doting fiancée smile with just the right amount of adoration and went to him. They embraced briefly and then stepped apart.
"We'll just leave you kids alone," Laura said, taking her husband by the arm and leading him out of the sitting room.
Once they were gone, Nick lifted Arden off her feet and kissed her firmly on the lips. They drifted over to the sofa where Nick proceeded to kiss her passionately, moving from her lips to the side of her neck. Arden draped her arms over his shoulders and let him slobber all over her for the next few minutes. She glanced at her watch and suppressed a sigh. It was getting late.
She gently pushed him back and scooted a few inches away. "I think we should stop," she said.
"Why?" he asked, his voice groggy. His lips were wet and parted, his breathing shallow.
"I'm just really tired."
"Why don't you come spend the night with me?"
Arden shrugged. "I just got home. It was a really traumatic ordeal," she said, affecting a dramatic sigh and placing her hand to her throat like a corset-bound damsel with the vapors.
Nick smiled gently, but not bothering to mask his disappointment. "Alright. I'm just glad you're home safe. I can't say it didn't bother me knowing you were forced to spend four nights alone with that...that...grease monkey."
Arden pressed her lips together. The coffee service was still on the table between the two sofas. She leaned forward and poured herself another cup. "He's a good guy. Whatever happened to 'don't judge a book by its cover?'"
Nick scoffed. "Everyone knows all about the Lanier family history. His great-great granddad was a cattle thief. And that's practically a compliment compared to the rest of the descendants. You remember a few years back when his old man got sentenced to two life terms?"
"Of course I remember." She pulled her sleeves down over her hands and tucked her feet underneath her. Why couldn't he just go away. All she wanted right now was to crawl into her bed for the evening and read a good book. All of this being forced to defend Travis without betraying any emotions was wearing on her.