by T. L. Haddix
“Old man? Oh, I can’t let that one go,” he murmured, reaching down in a flash to tickle her ribs, making her shriek against the pillow.
As he tortured her in the best possible way, she forced herself to let go of the worry and live in the moment. She knew all too well the future wasn’t guaranteed, and she didn’t want to take a single instant for granted.
Chapter Three
After a somewhat tense first night home that had turned out pretty well, all things considered, Warren was up before the sun. When Brooke came into the kitchen, still in her robe, he was finishing his second cup of coffee. She ruffled his hair when she saw him at the table, then she proceeded to the coffeepot.
“Big day ahead,” she said after she’d taken a few sips of the hot brew.
“That’s what I hear. Caleb won’t tell me much.”
She smiled. “He’s nervous. He wants you to be happy and healthy again.”
Warren sent her a shrewd look. “And you?”
“I want you to be happy and healthy too.” She came over to the table and sat down with a sigh. “And I want you to believe there’s good in the world again.”
He shook his head. “I do believe there’s good. I just think it’s too easy to get the good ripped away.”
“That’s why we have to make the most of the good while we have it, and take happiness where we can find it.” She patted his hand.
Warren caught her fingers and wrapped his hand around hers. He didn’t say anything, just held on for a minute, then he let go and stood, tremendously relieved that a good bit of the tension between them seemed to be gone. “I’d best get cleaned up. I don’t guess you’ll give me a hint as to where this mysterious opportunity is, will you?”
She smiled prettily and wrinkled her nose. “It’s in God’s own country.”
He sighed and shook his head, but he was smiling back. “And that could be anywhere.”
Brooke loved nature, all of it, and she could find beauty in a muddy pit. He ruffled her hair gently as he passed, feeling a little lessening of the guilt that had been riding him about their relationship when she laughed.
An hour later, he and Caleb were on the road. The sun was trying to fight through the heavy clouds, battling also with the fog that laid in a thick blanket in every dip of the highway.
“I’m a little surprised you were able to find someone hereabouts who was willing to give me a chance,” Warren said.
Caleb grimaced. “About that…”
There was the shame again, and Warren’s face heated with it. “We’re not staying local, are we?”
“We aren’t going a terribly long distance,” his brother hedged.
“I’m almost afraid to ask. Just how bad is my reputation in town?” He watched Caleb closely, needing to know the stark truth.
“You’d have a hard time getting hired at a fast-food joint. I’m sorry.”
Warren shrugged and rubbed his jaw. “Like I said yesterday, not your fault. How far are we going?”
“Lexington.”
For the life of him, Warren couldn’t respond. Logistically speaking, the city wasn’t a far distance from London. An hour, ninety minutes tops, and an easy drive at that, given that it was a straight shot on the interstate. Shoot, Warren had even worked there on and off before he’d started drinking, making the trip easily every day of the week. But in his heart, it might as well have been a thousand miles away. As stupid as it sounded, he felt like he was being exiled. The conversation was stilted after that, and thankfully Caleb didn’t try to push the issue.
By the time they left the interstate a few exits past Lexington proper, Warren had a handle on his emotions. When they turned off the main road onto a secondary road, a flicker of memory stirred to life.
“I’ve been here,” he said as they stopped at a light. “We’ve been here, you and I. Cal, where are we going?” He was starting to get an idea, and he wasn’t sure if he was pleased or horrified. Ben and Ainsley Campbell, family through Caleb’s adoptive parents, had a large horse farm just outside Lexington. A large, somewhat fancy farm.
Caleb sent him a level look. “You know where. You need a second chance; they’re in the business. And they truly need someone like you, someone who understands horses. Flaco, the stable manager? He had a bad heart attack a few months ago, and Ben had to step in and start covering his duties. It caught everyone off guard. They’ve been playing catch-up ever since.”
Warren frowned, remembering the kind, soft-spoken gentleman he’d met when he was a teenager and he had accompanied Caleb on several horse-related trips to the farm. “How’s Flaco doing?”
“He’s all right now, but it was really touch-and-go for a while. He won’t be coming back to work. He and his wife are down in Florida, taking advantage of the warm weather. He still has a bit of a road to recovery before he’s fully on his feet again.”
“So they want me to what, be the manager? Cal, I’m not up to that.”
Caleb shook his head. “Ben’s managing the farm, and he’s planning to continue to do so for a while. But he needs help, someone reliable to help carry the load. And yeah, someone to take over eventually. Not right away though.”
“Where’s Ainsley? She’s a damned reliable partner, best I recall.”
“She is, but she already had a full plate with the horse rehab side of things. Plus, the family’s had some pretty heavy losses in recent years. You know about Eliza and Uncle Eli,” he said, referring to Ben’s grandmother and her husband, who’d both passed away while Warren was in jail. “Given that they came so close to losing Flaco too, they’re still reeling.”
Warren sighed and looked out the window at the black split-rail horse fence that ran alongside the road. “And you all think I’m the person to help fill that need?”
“I think it might be a good chance for you to get a fresh start, to figure out where you want to go. And given that you’d be working with horses, doing a lot of good, it might be a place you can heal too, get some perspective.” Caleb turned off the road and onto a wide, paved driveway. He slowed when they came to a wrought-iron gate, painted black, that had an emblem of a dragonfly welded in the center. “Welcome to Dragonfly Creek Farm, little brother.”
“I thought I was finished with rehab,” Warren said with no small amount of sardonic humor. “Looks like I’m just getting started.”
Chapter Four
“The plan sounds good on paper. What if it doesn’t work out?” Ben Campbell was concerned, not enough to be considered truly nervous but enough that he was pacing a little in the wide aisle of the main barn at Dragonfly Creek Farm, the rescue and retirement horse farm he and his wife, Ainsley, called home.
Ainsley, who was calmly grooming one of their oldest horses, smiled softly. “It will work out if it’s meant to. This isn’t our first rodeo, is it, Kody?” she asked the horse.
When he nickered as if answering her, Ben laughed. “I’m being a nervous papa, aren’t I? Even though he’s an adult, not a foster child.”
“Somewhat. Warren has a connection to the family, and I think that’s putting some extra pressure on you.” She laid down the curry comb and walked over to Ben, then slid her arms around his waist. “You’ll see for yourself soon if Walker was right about his brother, about him being ready to start over. And hopefully Warren will be the person we’re looking for, someone you can train within a year. If he’s not, we’ll keep looking.”
When Flaco was forced to retire, Ben stepped in to fill his shoes until they could find someone permanent. As Flaco was married to Byrdie, Ainsley’s adoptive mother, the loss had hit them hard personally as well as professionally.
Ben rested his forehead against hers, pushing a stray lock of blond hair away from her cheek. “I want him to work out. He’s just a baby still, only twenty-two, too young to throw his life away. It’s too easy for me to imagine being in hi
s shoes, and yeah, there’s that family connection. If I’d lost you the way he lost Jessie, if I’d lost Lily the way he lost his child? There wouldn’t be anything left of me to pick up.”
“I know. You know I feel the same way.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her face against his. “I feel so sorry for him, and I know I have to let go of that before they get here.”
“He has to be strong to have survived to this point, right?” Ben thought about Warren’s story, about how he’d rapidly spiraled down into depression and drinking after losing his wife and child three years earlier. The final blow had come about eighteen months back. During a drunken altercation in a bar, Warren had assaulted a man. Seeing the deed as a wake-up call, Caleb Walker and the rest of his family had used the charges Warren faced as an intervention of sorts. From all appearances, the intervention, as well as the jail time and subsequent rehab, had done the trick.
“Time will tell now that he’s out in the world again,” Ainsley said. She pulled back from Ben with a sigh. “Living outside the cushion of rehab is the hardest part sometimes, believe me. I was about his age when I got sober, and staying that way took everything in me for the first year or more.” A recovering addict, she knew all too well the battles Warren would be facing in upcoming weeks and months and more.
With a squeeze, Ben let her hands go. “Are you sure you don’t want to be here for the interview?”
“Positive. I’ll get all maternal on him despite my best intentions, and I don’t think that will help anyone. Not at the first meeting, anyhow.”
He pulled her close for a fast kiss. “I love you, you know.”
She touched his chest and smiled at him winsomely. “As much as I love you?”
“You know it.”
When she left the barn for the house a short time later, he walked to the door and watched her go.
Mickey, one of the stable hands, came up beside him. “They don’t make women like that anymore, you know?”
Ben smiled. “I know. There are some good ones out there, and I’m lucky to be related to a whole host of them. But there’s only one Ainsley.”
“I’m not so sure about that now.” Mickey grinned. “I think you did a pretty good job of cloning her with Lily.”
The thought of his daughter, who was sixteen and nearly the spitting image of her mother at that age in looks and in temperament, made Ben rub his chest. “She’s growing up so fast. She’ll be going away to college and leaving us far behind before we can blink, Mickey.”
“Nah, that little girl won’t ever leave you and the missus. Her heart’s planted here on this farm as surely as Miss Ainsley’s. She might go away for a while, but she’ll come back home. I just hope you like whoever she picks to spend the rest of her life with, because he’ll be coming along with her.”
Shaking his head, Ben cursed him lightly. “You’ve been listening to Byrdie too much. I don’t even want to think about that. No, no, no. Absolutely not. She’s still a little girl.” She really wasn’t, but like most doting fathers, Ben wasn’t ready to think about that.
Mickey laughed as he walked away. “Not so much anymore, she isn’t. She’ll get her license the next time she tries, you know, and then you’ll be in real trouble.”
“Don’t I know it?” Ben muttered with a sigh.
When he spied the truck coming up the driveway, he blew out a relieved breath and headed to meet them. He was looking forward to interviewing Warren for several reasons. That the process would serve as a distraction from the painful prospect of his daughter growing up too fast was only a bonus.
Chapter Five
Two hours after they’d arrived at the farm, Warren was trying to wrap his head around the proposal that had been presented to him. A starting salary that was more than fair, a small but clean room in a well-kept barn to use as temporary housing, a stall for a horse if he wanted or needed it, and a flexible work schedule. Plus, access to the farm’s vehicles if he needed them.
“Like I mentioned, there’s a small house here on the property that’s fallen into some disrepair. We just put a new roof on it this spring and fixed the foundation, and at some point we’ll redo the wiring and plumbing. When we do, if you’re still here and you want the manager’s position, the house comes with the job. It isn’t really habitable at the moment, but with some elbow grease, it’ll be a nice house for someone.” Ben was watching Warren closely, had been watching him closely since he’d walked through the barn door. “Is something wrong?”
Warren shrugged and crossed his arms. “This is an awfully generous thing you’re willing to do here.”
“It is. It’s also going to require a lot of work and effort on your part. The work isn’t easy. There’s a lot of it, even while we try to keep the load as light as possible, and some aspects of running a farm this size flat suck. Because of what we do with the rescues and the retirement, we lose more horses than some places do. Some people can’t handle that. It’s a tough gig. But we do a lot of good here. We give horses that have been abused, horses that would be destined for the glue factory or worse a second chance, a chance to live out what time they have left in peace, well-fed, and as happy as we can make them. Not everyone is cut out for that, and if you’re not, don’t be afraid to speak up. If you don’t want the job, tell me. There’s not a person here who’d hold that honesty against you.”
The two of them were alone in the pasture outside one of the barns, as Caleb had stopped inside to look at a horse who was recovering from an injury. Needing something to do with his hands, Warren walked toward an old horse that Ben had called Whiskers. He was grazing lazily nearby, for all the world acting as if he was eavesdropping on them. The horse, a muddy brown gelding with scars along his left flank, nickered a greeting and watched Warren’s approach with a wary gaze. Warren stopped a few feet away and held out his hand. After a minute, Whiskers ambled over to him.
“You know I grew up with horses, at least after I came to live with Cal,” Warren told Ben as he scratched the horse’s jaw and rubbed his neck. He kept his voice low, as he’d seen earlier that Whiskers didn’t like loud noises. “I’ll be honest with you and tell you that I like horses better than most people. I’ll also tell you that I’m broken. I always will be. You can’t fix that in me. I don’t know if I can fix it, or even if I want to. I’m here for Cal and Brooke and their kids. I promised myself I’d try to live for them because for some reason, they seem to want me to stick around this old planet.”
Whiskers nudged him, sniffing the pockets of his coat, and Warren felt a tiny smile form.
“Nothing wrong with your nose, is there?” He reached in and pulled out the quartered apple he’d picked up from inside the barn. “I don’t know how long I’ll stay, Ben, and you might not want someone who can’t make that promise to you. But if you’re willing to let me stick around as long as I can, I’ll do the work.”
“What about the drinking?” Ben’s voice was stern without being harsh. “We have a zero-tolerance policy here, no exceptions.”
“You’re familiar with addicts, you said earlier. I’m assuming you know about cravings then.”
“I do.”
Warren glanced at him. “I’d kill for a drink right now. I don’t even want it, and I’d kill for it. I’m still learning to deal with that. I’m more than twelve months sober, but that craving hasn’t changed. The people who’ve been in my shoes assure me it does get better at some point, but I’m not there yet. I can’t swear to you that I won’t fall off the wagon, but you have my word that I’ll do my best.”
Ben surprised him by clasping his shoulder. “That’s all you can do some days. I don’t want you to think I’m judging you for the alcoholism, Warren. That’s something else we try very hard to not do here on the farm—pass judgment. And there’ll be support here for you if you need it. I just had to hear it from you, to see your face. To read you. If you want the job, we’d li
ke to have you. I think we could all benefit from the relationship.”
Letting his head rest against the horse, Warren sighed. “When do I start?”
A sunny smile spread across Ben’s face. “You already have.”
Chapter Six
Present day
Late-spring sunshine illuminated the fluffy clouds painted onto a background of brilliant blue sky that greeted Lily Jane Campbell when she rolled over and opened her eyes. A complicated rush of emotions coursed through her as a gentle breeze lifted the sheer curtains away from the open windows. The mural meant she was finally home, back in her apartment at the farm, after months on the road with work. And being home meant being surrounded by her loving family, nosy friends, her horses… and Warren.
“Therein lies the complication,” she muttered around a yawn as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
She couldn’t think about him at the moment. She wouldn’t think about him. Over the last few months, Lily had gotten quite good at not thinking of him. At least that’s what she told herself.
She stood and stretched, wincing at the stiffness in her muscles. A lousy seat on the flight home from Tampa had put a kink in her back. They’d sat on the tarmac for four hours, waiting for storms to clear so they could take off, and the flight had been bumpier than usual. By the time she’d deplaned, she felt a bit like she’d been on a torture rack. Added to that, she’d slept much longer than she usually did, needing to catch up after weeks of long work days.
“You’re definitely going to need to book a massage, and soon,” she muttered as she headed for the shower.
She was feeling mostly human and surprisingly awake given that she’d not had any coffee by the time she was dressed. Absolutely starving, given that it was well after ten o’clock, she made her way to the house’s main kitchen. The sight that met her eyes made her stop in the doorway, a misty smile forming as memories rushed in to mix with the present.