Your Hand in Mine: A Heartwood Novel

by Brea Viragh

  Then I caught a glimpse of Fenton behind the bar with a martini shaker in his hand and realized I didn’t need the light. He zeroed in on me immediately. His movement stilled. If I hadn’t been paying close attention I might have missed the hitch in his left eyebrow before he resumed shaking.

  Good. The dress worked. I was pleased.

  The boys chose a long wooden table in the center of the room. I picked the seat to the left, giving the bar and the barkeep an excellent view of my right-side profile. Then proceeded to drop my purse on the floor when my fingers missed the side of the chair.

  Maybe I wasn’t as steady as I thought.

  “This is gonna be fun.” Harv ran his hands together in anticipation. “First rounds on me. Buttery nipples for everyone.”

  I’d forgotten about the buttery nipples. The whole reason we were here. I more than suspected that the guys wanted to test my mettle against their own. I’d made plenty of boasts in the past about my ability to drink them all under the table. It was time to put my money where it didn’t belong. In my mouth.

  “So, what are the rules?” I asked, settling into my chair.

  “One,” Bud said on a low grumble. “There aren’t any.”

  Harv returned minutes later with a wicked grin and a tray balanced on his weathered palm. “Look at these beauties,” he called out in a voice like sand rubbing on a chalkboard. “Boss man made sure to fill them up to the top.”

  “He better,” Bud retorted.

  We each reached forward and grabbed a glass.

  I fingered the shot before downing it. This wasn’t my first rodeo. It was, however, the first time I’d commandeered a table near the bar, more concerned about being eye candy than having fun. This isn’t about eye candy, I reminded myself sternly. This was about acting normal. This was a test to see how well I could handle my stuff in public, where it mattered. Acting like I hadn’t been affected by the long, long weekend at Myrtle Beach and the foolish consequences of my actions.

  The thought brought on a flash of mad. Not only my actions, I thought with a mental shake. Fenton’s actions, too. It wasn’t like I had to force him into my bed. I didn’t have a gun to hold to his head.

  He’d made the first move with me. Not the other way around.

  “Have another,” Ray demanded when I’d stayed quiet for too long. “We’re getting started.”

  “Well then, someone is going to have to order a plate of onion rings. I need some grease to offset the liquor. Then the race is on.”

  “Deal.”

  They were nice men. Good men, who believed in putting in a decent day’s work to earn their paycheck. Which is why I enjoyed working at the bed and breakfast with them. They were my crew, rowdy and bawdy and kind-hearted. I didn’t mind when they dragged me out for a night of fun and paid for drinks.

  Hell, I could use a stiff one.

  “Stop with the long face, toots. This is supposed to be a good time. You look like you got back from a funeral. Except for the dress.”

  I schooled my face into a semblance of a smile and tossed my hair over my shoulder. “You need your prescription adjusted, Harv. There’s something wrong with your eyes! I think you meant to say you haven’t seen a more beautiful woman, and one with such great fashion sense.” I gestured toward the cinched bodice. “Am I right?”

  “I don’t know nothing about lady’s dresses.”

  “I’ll take the compliment, then.”

  Savages. They had no idea the effort that had gone in into my look tonight. Which, I guess, was the whole point.

  “Make the next round tequila,” I said when Bud hoisted himself out of his chair. “If we’re going to play, then we need to make it count.”

  “What? You didn’t enjoy the buttery nipple? Come on.”

  “It was good, and there’s always time for that later. I’m keeping my options open.”

  Ray chugged the rest of the beer he’d ordered and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You look concerned, Shar. Don’t worry. Boss man might be watching but he knows the drill. He won’t rag on us for getting a little drunk. It’s about time we all went out and had a little fun.”

  I so wasn’t worried about being a little tipsy in front of Fenton. Been there, done that. Look how it turned out. I remembered the last time I’d been coerced into having a little fun. Or what had he called it? Getting silly.

  Maybe I needed to stop saying yes to situations I knew would get me into trouble.

  “I’m concerned about having to carry you lot out of here,” I told Ray. “I haven’t been doing my arm exercises. I’m not sure I could handle the weight.”

  I got an elbow in my side for the sassy remark. “You are so full of shit.”

  It was nice to be a part of the crew. A knot began to loosen in my stomach. This wasn’t so hard. I needed to focus on the guys, on the liquor burning its way down my throat, and forget the rest of the room.

  It was easy. It wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as I’d thought. I was actually enjoying myself.

  Then a hand clamped down on my shoulder and I started at the contact, wanting to jump out of my skin.

  “Boys, what are you doing here?” the deep voice called out. “You do know it’s a Thursday, right? I’m not gonna go easy on you at work in the morning.”

  I not-so-subtly shifted away from the hand when goosebumps rose on my skin. Fenton thought it was okay to come over here and touch me? I was determined to act like nothing had happened, but he was really going to the extra mile. I was getting a workout in.

  “There’s a girl here, too, in case you couldn’t see,” I grumbled under my breath.

  “We’re testing this lady’s mettle,” Bud replied, setting Fenton with a level stare. “So far I’m not impressed.”

  “You can joke all you want, but at the end of the night, when you’re slobbering into your buttery nipple, I’m going to be the one laughing.” I insisted, pointing my finger at my chest.

  Fenton shifted back behind the counter after a few short words to his crew. Better, I thought. Better for him to watch me and feel the misery, my dear.

  Harv brought over a round of shots, shooting me a heavy-lidded grin. I took one in my hand and slugged it back. Tequila burned its way down through my esophagus and into my gut.

  “Great choice,” I gargled out, handing the empty glass back. “I’ve always found lighter fluid to do a body good.”

  The men shared a rough laugh and finished their own drinks.

  The liquor went straight to my stomach and settled into a low simmer. At least I could say my sinuses were now one hundred percent clear.

  “So,” Bud began, “how long do you plan on cozying up to the boss man?”

  I coughed on my own spit, and I’m not proud to admit it. Hacking amidst the concerned back slaps from the men, I tried to formulate a real, honest, non-shame-inducing answer.

  “Is that what I’ve been doing?” I croaked. “How nice of you to call me out.”

  “Sorry, toots, it’s just…we’ve been noticing a few things and thought—”

  “Thought you’d call me out on it,” I repeated, and rubbed my index fingers into my temples.

  “Thought you should know we’re there for you, whatever you need. He’s a tough nut to crack. Of course, we known him since he first started tending bar. And if you didn’t want people knowing your business then you need to move out of Heartwood and into a large city.”

  “Oh, so it’s my fault that I like living in a small town and find a nice, hardworking man attractive?” I forced a laugh. “To be clear, I wasn’t cozying. I was actively flirting. There’s a big difference between the two. Cozying implies a lack of intent.”

  “Not from what we saw,” Ray said. He coughed behind his palm for good measure and sent me a bleary-eyed wink.

  I wished I’d never asked for a spotlight. Now I could feel it on me, feel the eyes of the people in the room on my shoulders. I refused to turn around to see if I was right.

  Some
how, in the span of a week, the life I’d made after gathering up the broken pieces had fallen out of my hands again. Now I felt like I was on my hands and knee trying to gather up the pieces again.

  Beyond the obvious hurt, I felt okay with the upset, knowing I would eventually get things together again. Before, I’d had no room for any foolishness. I could roll with the punches, sure, but I dreaded the next upset.

  Now…my eyes fastened on my lap. I wasn’t going to look at him.

  “Either way, handle the guy with the kid gloves.” In a single, non-rehearsed movement, all three men moved in close for a huddle. “Don’t want him to hear me talking smack,” Bud whispered.

  “You guys talk gossip better than a group of old biddies,” I replied in an equally soft tone, willing them to spill the beans with nothing but my eyes.

  “Sixty-something-year-old men got to have something to keep them busy, young lady. But this ain’t about us. You want to be careful with boss man, is what we’re saying. Careful but consistent. He’s been through a lot in the past couple of years. Got himself dumped. Got a lot of gossip going around about him. You can’t see it normally, but it got his head a little loopy.”

  “Who hasn’t been dumped in their life?” Still, a little ping beneath my clavicle took me by surprise. Jealousy? I hoped not. Was this the same girl he’d started to tell me about over dinner? I wondered. What were the chances of it being someone different?

  “Got himself dumped because of his brother.”

  I drew back in my seat. That was news to me. Bud, Ray, and Harv’s faces now held varying expressions of concern. They genuinely cared about Fenton and wanted me to know the whole story before proceeding. They were either doing this to warn me slash scare me away or give me a fighting chance.

  I couldn’t tell which.

  “Care to spill more than the barest minimum, gentlemen? If not, I’ll be forced to use my overactive imagination and we all know how well that goes.” My mind buzzed with questions. Questions about his past, about his experiences and what he wanted at the present moment. Things he obviously did not want to answer, while I was trying to gain a better understanding.

  “If you’re interested, then you need to know the history. I’m not calling myself an expert,” Bud stated, “but we’ve all heard the stories. Some woman came to town, they were involved. It got serious. She found out about his brother and decided he wasn’t worth the risk anymore.” He held up his hands. “I don’t know the details.”

  “You sure know enough.” Who was I kidding here? I was interested in Fenton. I wanted to know the whole story, the history, the gritty details. And at my age, considering where I’ve been in my life and what I’d seen with my own family, I recognized the consequences of going forward with a man.

  No, tonight wasn’t supposed to be Fenton-centric. In fact, I needed to think about something else. I’d wasted too much time on this distraction, although I had no regrets. There was nothing gained in looking over my shoulder wishing I could do something differently. Not that it kept me from reflecting plenty of hours over the last week.

  “What about his brother?”

  The three men shared a look. “You don’t know?”

  I shrugged. “Guess not if I have to resort to asking you.”

  “His brother has a…problem,” Ray began. “Something no doctor’s been able to fix. Seems to me he likes the rut he’s stuck in, as he doesn’t much care to get himself out. Rather rely on the kindness of others to help him along.”

  “Anything else you want to tell me while you’re being vague?” Clearly, they thought I was out of the loop, and this was something better left for Fenton to explain. Although I wanted to muscle my way into the gory meat of the story, I slapped my hands down on my lap and sighed. “Okay, I guess I’ll have to ask him, then. I’m done being nosy now. Let’s get some more drinks and start this party off the right way.”

  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I dragged myself out of the laughter and raunchy conversation and took stock of the room. There were several people I knew, even a couple who warranted a wave and a smile. Then my eyes settled on an adjacent booth, the man and woman sitting there, and a back.

  A very familiar back.

  My happy mood melted into a solid block of fury within seconds. Someone had some explaining to do.

  “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me. I have some urgent business across the room.” I rose from my seat and did my best to be quiet. At least, until I got close enough to blast her.

  I slapped my hand down on her shoulder and forced a smile on my face. Things were about to get a lot more complicated.

  “Kaylen Vest, what the hell are you doing here?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Aunt Shari!” Her eyes rounded and her hand snuck to her lap. Not fast enough for me to miss the beer she clutched.

  It would have been effortless to reach out and strangle her. Luckily, I was able to keep my composure.

  “Are you…seriously…” I grabbed the bottle from her, testing the weight. She was about halfway through. “You’re seriously drinking! I can’t believe you have the nerve to show up in a public place and do this. People know you here. People know me here! Who in their right mind would let you have a beer?” I set her companion with a stare that would have melted granite. “You are in big trouble. I’m not sure I can tell you how big.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kaylen pleaded. She stared up at me with a blink. Two more blinks. Like the more she blinked the easier it would be to sway me. Too bad for her I wasn’t budging. “Please don’t tell my mom. Please! She’ll kill me if she finds out I was here.”

  There were some instances where a little well-placed manipulation worked on me. This was not one of those nights. As I stared into her familiar heart-shaped face, I vowed to harden my heart.

  “You really think pleading is going to work? Right, like I’m going to listen to you. What do you think you’re doing?” I spared another glance at the boy on the other side of the table.

  Boy, sure, he must have been about eighteen. An eighteen-year-old with my fifteen-year-old niece. This was not going to end well for either one of them. My internal temperature rose until I felt like I could breathe fire. Was there smoke coming out of my ears?

  “Why can’t you get someone else to buy you booze and sneak off somewhere like a normal teenager? The back of a truck or a spot in the woods was always good enough for me. My god.” I handed the bottle off to one of the guys and took hold of Kaylen’s wrist. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what kind of trouble you’re in. When your mom finds out about this—”

  “It’s not a big deal, Aunt Shar,” she insisted. She rolled her eyes, although I notice her skin had paled. “All the kids do it. It’s a drink.”

  I had to admire her ability to jump from one end of the spectrum to the other with such fluid ease, going from worry over telling her mom to excuses in a single bound. “You can’t have an adult buy you a six pack like any other high school student? You have to get what I’m going to assume is a fake ID and come to a bar where everyone knows your name? Are you stupid?” I couldn’t help ramming the point home. Maybe then she’d get it through her thick head.

  She made to jump up and I pushed her down still holding of her arm. “Hey, I’m not stupid!” Her voice rose. “I told you all the kids are doing it.”

  “I won’t bother telling you about all the other kids and a bridge,” I muttered. “Apparently you wouldn’t understand the reference.”

  Fenton spared me a look from the other side of the room. I saw the concern on his face. The confusion. Then his brows shifted together and I recognized the moment he took stock of the situation.

  Good boy. By now I’m sure he knew. Kaylen wasn’t the only one on the hook tonight.

  The glare I sent him in return was glorious to behold. Glower was putting it mildly. I would do well in prison with a look like that. It was his job to make sure no underage children were served alcohol on the pre
mises. So why the hell was I the first one to see my niece drinking a beer?

  I kept a hold of her wrist when she tried to pull away. “Give me your cell phone. Immediately.”

  “Are you crazy? You’re going to call mom. I’m not giving you my phone.” Only a teenager could make the word phone sound like a sailor’s swear. “Go get your own.”

  I leaned into her. “You’re damn right I am. Then I’m going to call the six o’clock news and broadcast your shame to the county. It’s the least I can do for you, after you’ve put me in this position.”

  “Aunt Shar—”

  “Do not Aunt Shar me. This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen,” I lowered my tone to a whisper. “I’ve seen a lot of ridiculous things, kid. Right now, you in this bar with a beer in your hand is at the top of the list. You should already know it’s bad.”

  It was icing on the cake to use Kaylen’s own phone to call her mother. A few tense words and Jackie was on her way. It was no skin off my back to keep hold of Kaylen while we waited. She had enough sense to keep silent after the call. There was no way for her to spin this around. Not when I’d caught her in the act.

  Ten minutes later, my extremely harried sister burst through the door of The Tooth like a bat out of hell. A literal bat. Her hair had been artfully styled to flare out on both sides of her head like great brown wings. I wonder where she’d gone and if they had a return policy.

  “I already yelled,” I warned when she stalked toward the table. “But feel free to continue. I don’t think I’ve embarrassed her enough.”

  “I thought she was at Megan’s house. She told me it was a sleepover.” Jackie did her best to keep it together. Her eyes darted from her daughter to the table top, across the room to the bar, and back again. They weren’t sure where to land.

  I gave her props. Her knuckles were white on her purse strap but she didn’t look like she was going to Hulk out on me.

  “Ever seen that kid before?” I jerked my nose toward the boy trying to slink toward the back exit, taking advantage of the confusion. A single glance toward Bud and the boys had them moving to intercept him. The kid wasn’t leaving until he called home and had someone come to get him.