Someone Like You

by Victoria Bylin

  She gave a little laugh. “What did Ladybug do this time?”

  “Nothing. The problem involves Hunter Adams.” He told her about Hunter leaving the main trail, the snakebite, and the trauma to both Max and the horse. “Jed’s not out of the woods, but Dr. Cahill’s hopeful.”

  Ginger gasped. “That poor horse. And Max too. What a fright for everyone. How did this happen?”

  “According to Hunter, you gave him permission to ride alone with Max. Despite Chet’s instructions, he left the main trail. I don’t know what you told Chet when you gave your permission, but—”

  “Hold on, Zeke. This doesn’t add up. Hunter called this morning to confirm his uncle’s arrival. During that call, he said he was an experienced rider and asked if he could give Max a riding lesson. I know Max is underage. I admit I bent that particular rule. But I assumed they’d stay in the corral. Apparently Hunter had other ideas. I just didn’t realize it.”

  “And Chet got caught in the middle. When Adams insisted on taking Max out on the trail, Chet assumed you knew the plan.”

  “I can see how the mistake happened, but I did not give Hunter permission to go to those boulders.”

  “Understood. But that’s what he did, and he did it in spite of Chet’s instructions.”

  “Hunter’s a smart man, Zeke. I like him, and anyone can see how much he loves his son. Perhaps he just made a mistake.”

  “No,” Zeke replied. “It was deliberate. He said he wanted to take a picture of the resort for Applegate.”

  Ginger paused. “What are you suggesting?”

  “You can’t trust him.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “What?”

  “This is personal for you.”

  Zeke needed to tread carefully. “It’s true that I don’t care for Hunter’s personality.” Or his ethics. “But I’m speaking strictly as a professional. In my opinion, he deliberately misled you and then misconstrued Chet’s instructions.”

  “I don’t care for your tone.”

  “My tone? I’m not following you.”

  “You’ve been honest, Zeke, so I’ll return the favor. I have to wonder if you’re being unfair to Hunter because of your feelings for Julia.”

  Zeke answered with a clean conscience. “You don’t need to worry. The three of us have a history, but Julia’s a professional and so am I.”

  “I realize that. But I’m not blind. If the tension between the three of you impacts either this presentation to Maury Applegate or Tiff’s wedding, I’ll be extremely disappointed in both you and Julia. Regardless of Hunter’s activities—and I agree he behaved poorly today—I expect you to show him the utmost respect.”

  What a load of garbage. Even more galling, she sounded just like dear old Dad lecturing him to do more, try harder, and be better. He rocked forward in his throne of a chair. “I’ll do my best. You know that.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Somehow he set down the phone without slamming it. He’d just been ordered to kowtow to Hunter, and he didn’t know which infuriated him more—the lecture or the order itself. He shoved back from the desk, sending the chair skidding into the wall, and snatched his keys. He needed to see Julia now. He needed her touch, her calm ways, even a dose of her faith. Never mind the caution flag waving in his face.

  But halfway across the room, his common sense prevailed. If Ginger saw his car in Julia’s driveway, especially right now, she’d jump to conclusions that wouldn’t be entirely inaccurate. Sighing, he went back to his desk, dropped the jangling keys, and sat. At least he could still use the phone.

  “How are you?” he asked when Julia answered.

  “All right.” She sounded distant.

  “Is Hunter there?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  “He texted about Max after you made the report.” She heaved a sigh that rattled right through him. “I’m done with him for the night. Would you like to come over?”

  “Oh, man.” Zeke dragged his hand through his hair. “I wish I could, but Ginger’s watching us.” He told her about the call. “I don’t think it would be smart.”

  “No.”

  He heard running water and the clatter of dishes. “What are you doing?”

  “Rinsing a plate.” Her voice took on the mommy tone, a sign Max was listening. “We had mac and cheese for dinner.”

  Max piped up. “And chocolate milk.”

  Julia spoke over the rushing water to Zeke. “Hold on, okay?” She told Max she’d be in the living room, remained silent for a few seconds, then murmured into the phone, “How’s Jed?”

  “Better. But he could still go lame. It’ll be a while before we know.”

  “Max keeps asking about him.” Julia dropped her voice even lower. “I still can’t believe what Hunter did today. When I think about what could have happened—” Her voice cracked.

  Every nerve in Zeke’s body tensed. He loved this woman. Loved her enough to fight and die for her, but all he could do was sit in his office and twiddle his thumbs. More than anything he wanted to ride in on a white horse, play the superhero, and rescue her from Hunter, snakes, and all of life’s turmoil.

  And then it hit him. He couldn’t comfort Julia in person, but he could give her the same words she had already given to him. He might not to be free to fight for her, or to rescue her like Han Solo or the Ninja Turtles, but he did have a voice. “I love you, Jules. I loved you in Berkeley, and I love you now. I’d rather say this in person, but I need you to know how I feel. Right now, it’s all I have to give.”

  A soft sob filtered into his ears. “I love you too, but . . .” That last word dragged into a sigh.

  Zeke stared out the window, his brow furrowed. “But what?”

  “You have no idea how much I want to tell you to forget Ginger and come over right now. How much I want to just be with you. It would be the easiest thing in the world to lean on you, Zeke.” Her voice shook but didn’t break. “But I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” He wanted her to lean on him. For once today, he wanted to feel like a man and not a mouse.

  “We talked about this at the pool. My faith is still so new. I’m still learning how to lean on God instead of myself. You’re having problems too.”

  True or not, he bristled at the reminder. “My problems are my own. I’m working on them.”

  “I know you are.” She took another breath. “But we both need to find our way independent of each other before we can have the solid relationship I think we both want. We’d be fools to move too fast, especially with Hunter in the picture.”

  Catman again. Zeke threw back his shoulders. “I can handle him.”

  “I know you can.” The confidence in her voice gave him a lift. “You were great today, Zeke. I appreciate everything you did, especially how you worked it so I could leave alone with Max. But I’m not sure you understand what it’s like to deal with Hunter almost every day. He pushes for his own way all the time. He’ll pick fights with you. He’ll treat you like he did in Berkeley. He’ll make you mad and—”

  “I get it, Jules. He’s a jerk.”

  “He’s more than that. He’s a constant presence in my life. You can’t change that or fix it.”

  Great. The woman he loved didn’t think he could protect her.

  “It’s hard,” she continued. “The only thing holding me together is my faith. Without that foundation, I’m afraid Hunter will get to us both, and I don’t want to add to your problems. If you and I don’t see life the same way, we’ll fight like we did in Berkeley, and—”

  “Jules, stop.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t.” Her dire predictions smacked into him like stones, accused him of being weak, and reminded him that he really wasn’t the man she needed and deserved. The turquoise geode caught his eye and he stumbled back in time to Berkeley. “It’s a faith issue, isn’t it? I’m not the man I used to be.”

  “Oh, Zeke—”

  “I get it,
Jules. You want Mr. Perfect Christian.”

  “What?”

  “You know. The guy I used to be. The guy who does everything right.”

  Her voice cooled. “I don’t know what you mean. To me, a perfect Christian doesn’t exist.”

  He did not want to have this conversation. Not now. Not ever, because every time, the words flayed him alive. “I don’t want to argue with you about this, especially not after a day like this one.”

  “I don’t either. I love you, Zeke. I love you too much to settle for less than the kind of relationship I think we both want.”

  ’Til death do us part . . . Forever . . . A marriage built on a strong rock and not shifting sand. Promises a mere mortal couldn’t keep.

  “I have to be brutally clear,” she said. “I’ve been a Christian for such a short time. I don’t know very much about God, and frankly I’m a little bit scared by all the changes. But I know this. No matter how much I love you, there are two things I can’t compromise on—Max and my faith.”

  The tone of her voice scraped him raw. He started to respond, but she wasn’t finished with him.

  “That’s why you and I need to be just friends until you’re at peace and I’m stronger in my faith.”

  He didn’t move a muscle. There was nowhere to go, nothing to say, because deep in his soul, in the dark corner where he was still a child, he envied her conviction. Zeke wasn’t that certain anymore. He was an adult who knew how it felt to be beaten up by life. Then again, so did Julia. She wasn’t innocent or naïve in the least. She’d been beaten up too, but instead of spurning the message of the cross the way he did, she had run to it.

  His fingers tightened on the phone. Bile rose in his throat. Their future came down to one simple fact: he couldn’t be the man she deserved until he found his way back to God, and he needed to make that journey alone.

  “Look,” he said as gently as he could. “We’re not going to solve this tonight. You need to take care of Max, and I have some thinking to do.”

  “I suppose we both do.”

  They murmured quiet good-byes without saying I love you.

  Zeke tossed down the phone and stood. Hands on hips, he glowered at the wall of diplomas and awards, the books, even the geodes. Every degree, every accomplishment—what did all that hard work really mean? Apparently nothing. He had given Julia and Caliente Springs his personal best, everything in his heart and soul, and where was he now? Not good enough. Rejected by Julia in the past for being too Christian and now for not being Christian enough.

  He stood frozen in place, trapped and mentally shackled.

  Isolated.

  Helpless.

  Desperate enough to shout a cuss word he almost never used. With his fists knotted, he glowered at a bare spot on the wall. One punch. Just one powerful swing of his arm . . . but perfect men didn’t put their fists through walls. They didn’t crack and cry, or beg and plead. They stayed strong.

  Except Zeke wasn’t strong enough. He never had been, and he wasn’t now. He was sick of it—sick of failing, sick of trying. Sick of being angry and hiding it.

  Turning away from the blank wall, he glared at the geodes and imagined hurling one through the floor-to-ceiling window. Geodes were just ugly rocks until someone broke them open the way he’d cracked them with his dad. There were a lot of ways to do it, but a true collector used a hammer and chisel, tapping a line around the circumference until the rock was ready to give way. Then with a twist of his wrist, the expert opened the geode and discovered a marvel of God’s artistry.

  Tap . . . Tap . . . Tap.

  Every memory of every sin in his life stabbed into Zeke’s chest. He’d always been so sure of himself, especially back in Berkeley, so full of confidence in his ability to resist sexual temptation. Guilt over his choices had churned into ambivalence, and ambivalence had thickened into resentment. Over the years the resentment hardened into the lifeless stone now in his chest.

  Groaning, he dropped down on the couch, propped his elbows on his knees, and buried his head in his hands. He saw it now. With every personal failure, God had been chipping at his pride. Zeke was not now—and he never had been—the perfect person he believed he could be if only he tried hard enough.

  As a boy, he’d secretly resented every word out of his father’s mouth.

  Tap . . . Tap . . . Tap.

  As a college student, he’d given in to lust and love in spite of putting up the best fight he could.

  Tap . . . Tap . . . Tap.

  And here he was now, a guy with an MBA, insisting he could single-handedly pull Caliente Springs from the brink of disaster.

  Tap . . . Tap . . . Tap.

  Every one of Zeke’s failings was common to man. Nothing extraordinary. And yet the humiliation of accepting his own humanity tore the skin off his back. Knowing full well surrender meant repentance and trusting God fully, even to the point of death and failure, he handed over his heart of stone. “Finish it, Lord. Crack it open.”

  He felt nothing. No tears. No joy. But a pinprick of light illuminated the dark place where he had fallen. Suddenly he knew exactly what he needed to do. It was time to open the rest of the boxes in the garage.

  twenty-six

  After dinner Julia gave Max a bath and tucked him into bed with his favorite bear. He was exhausted and fell asleep instantly. But at two o’clock he woke up shrieking about a snake in his bed. She held him tight until he went back to sleep, her tears mixing with his. She’d been too churned up to even doze after that, so when she arrived at the office at eight o’clock she was worried about Max, furious at Hunter, and so full of love for Zeke that every breath she took whispered his name.

  Last night’s conversation had been painful and difficult but satisfying too. She could speak her mind and Zeke listened. There had been no manipulation, no twists and turns, no lashing out. They were two adults dealing with real life, and they were doing it with mutual respect. She loved him more than ever after that conversation, which made the outcome of today’s meeting with Maury deeply personal to her. Whatever happened this afternoon, she and Zeke would face it together.

  She set down her purse, woke up the computer, and glanced down the hall to his office. To her surprise, it was dark. There was no sign of him, so she checked her computer for messages.

  One from Zeke popped up with a time stamp of 4:42 a.m. I’m taking the morning off.

  “Today?” she said to the email. “With Maury coming?”

  Worried, she reached for her phone but stopped. She didn’t want to wake him if he was asleep. On the other hand, what if he had a stomach bug and needed Sprite and crackers? Just last week a twenty-four-hour virus had run through accounting. No matter the cause for his absence, she needed to know he was all right.

  Keys and phone in hand, she drove to his house. His SUV was in the driveway, so she knew he was there. Rather than risk waking him with a knock on the front door, she slipped through the back gate, crossed the patio, and tried the sliding glass door. When it opened with a whoosh, she stepped into the kitchen and saw a rectangular oak table surrounded by four chairs, the perfect size for a family.

  Her heart did a little flip, but she squashed it. This wasn’t the time to think about their relationship. All that mattered was helping Zeke with today’s presentation.

  A hallway led to the bedrooms. The door to the master was only slightly ajar, so she pushed it open another couple inches. Thick shades dimmed the morning sun to gray, but the bed was hotel-white with Zeke in the middle on his side, shirtless in pajama bottoms, tanned, muscular, and sleeping heavily with one arm hanging off the side of the bed. His hair fell on the pillow like a crooked halo.

  How on earth, or where in heaven, would she find the strength to be just a friend when she wanted so much more?

  He rolled onto his back, all muscle and man, flesh and bone. She needed to leave, but as she took a step, her phone meowed.

  Zeke stirred and she panicked. With one eye on his face, she kil
led the ringtone, but not before he opened his eyes and saw her. Ragged and scruffy, he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

  “Jules?”

  “Yes. It’s me.” She stuffed the phone back in her pocket. Hunter could wait all day for all she cared right now. “I saw your message, but I was still worried. I thought maybe you were sick.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You need your sleep. I’ll leave.”

  “Wait.” His voice came out husky and low. Blinking hard, he studied her as if she were a dream, then he rubbed his eyes with his fists.

  Wise or not, she drank in the sight of his handsome face, defined muscles, the hair on his chest, and every golden bristle on his jaw.

  He lumbered to his feet but stopped short of approaching. “I was up most of the night. If I don’t get some sleep, I’ll be worthless for the meeting with Applegate.”

  They stood facing each other, silent but with their feelings rattling between them. His eyes fastened on hers, his expression intense and adoring, yet controlled. Her breath synchronized with his in a moment so raw her cheeks burned.

  “You better go,” he said, his voice more gravelly than before.

  “Yes.” She stepped away, then stopped. She knew better than to ask the question on the tip of her tongue, but her heart got the better of her. “Why were you up all night?”

  “It’s a long story and I want to tell you everything. Maybe we can talk tonight.”

  “Sure.” She could see the bluish circles under his eyes, the gaunt look she recognized from all-nighters in Berkeley. “My mom will be home packing for George’s show, so she can watch Max. I’ll wait for you at the office.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Good. I’ll stay until you get there.”

  She turned to leave, but an invisible cord made her spin back around. In a flash she crossed the room, kissed his whisker-rough jaw, and shot out the door.

  Zeke crawled back into bed, mashed a pillow over his head, and fell back to sleep with Julia’s kiss warm on his cheek.

  When the alarm went off at one o’clock, he felt fortified in spite of unpacking boxes until four in the morning. The job was almost done. Several boxes of family treasures were waiting to be shipped to his sisters, anything worthless was in the trash, and the useable items were in more bags for charity. It felt good to have his garage back and even better to be rid of the boxes.