by Mara Jacobs
Chapter Twenty-Two
√ Call Margo
√ Get new boots, jacket, mittens
Call Sybil
The blustery January wind whipped at Finn as he wheeled Annie up the ramp and into the farmhouse. Stevie had already shoveled and sanded so the push wasn’t as strenuous as it might have been. He made a mental note to thank Stevie for doing the shoveling while he and Annie had been at her physical therapy session.
It seemed like he was doing much more of that lately - thanking and praising Stevie - than he ever had before. He and his son had definitely turned a corner. No more breaking curfew or any other bullshit. He’d like to think it was all that quality time he’d spent with Stevie since the end of the summer, and that was surely part of it, but Finn knew that the threat of being grounded, and therefore not seeing Heather, was the real reason behind Stevie’s turnaround.
“How’d it go?” Finn’s grandmother asked as they entered the kitchen.
Finn wheeled Annie to the large throw rug just inside the door where the snow from the wheels of her chair could melt. He began the task of ridding his daughter of her many layers of winter clothing. “Pretty good. Tell her, Annie.”
Annie’s eyes lit up, matching the pink glow of her cold cheeks. “Five minutes today, Gran.”
“Five minutes? Oh, honey that’s wonderful. That calls for some hot chocolate,” she said and turned to the refrigerator to get out the milk.
Annie’s progress was now being measured in the amount of minutes she could stand up with her full weight on her legs. She hadn’t taken any steps yet, the therapist wanted to wait until she got to ten minutes before they attempted that, but she was adding nearly a minute each session so it wouldn’t be long before they tried.
Five minutes felt like five hours when Finn had to watch his baby girl standing there, grimace on her face, gritting her teeth, determined not to grab on to the support bars at her side. A couple of times the therapist had asked him to leave the room during the exercise because he seemed to be in so much pain watching his daughter that Annie had gotten upset. He soon got a hold of himself and now passively sat watching Annie and her therapist while inside his heart pounded and his palms itched to jump to her aid. Sitting on his hands seemed to help.
“Stevie home?” Finn asked.
“Yes, he’s up in his room. Don’t forget you’ve got that man with the horse coming in an hour.”
How could he forget? He’d been totally taken by surprise when Margo had called him out of the blue last week and said she knew someone who had recently bought a horse and was looking for a place to board it. She asked if she could give them Finn’s name and number. He’d started to say no, that he wasn’t prepared to board a horse, but stopped himself. The barn was fit enough. He had plenty of hay. All he needed to do was clean out some of the stalls and get some feed. He’d told Margo to go ahead and give the guy his number.
A man called a few days later and discussed arrangements and fees with Finn. He was dropping the horse off this evening.
It wasn’t the same as having his own horses, but it was a start. He’d plowed the snow out of the corrals so he’d have a place to exercise the horse. He and Stevie had put snowshoes on last Sunday and made a trail past the strawberry fields and a ways into the woods. The kids seemed as excited about the prospect of having a horse in their barn as Finn was.
With cautious optimism, he’d dusted off the business plan he’d written years ago for his horse boarding and training operation. Yeah, it was a start.
Finn was in Stevie’s room an hour later, going over his son’s homework with him, when he heard a vehicle pull into the driveway. He quickly made his way downstairs to get his winter gear on.
The doorbell rang as he was sitting in a kitchen chair pulling his boots on. When he called for his visitor to come in, the door opened and a cold burst of air brushed through the room and right to Finn’s face, which was already frozen...with disbelief.
“Liz?” his voice cracked and he tried again. “Liz? What are you doing here?”
“I came to see a man about a horse,” she said with a small shrug. At Finn’s look of incomprehension, she continued, “I’m E.H. Beach.”
“You’re...you’re...?”
“Yes, I’m the person who’s horse you’re going to board.”
“But, I talked to a man?” Finn sputtered.
Lizzie nodded. “A co-worker, making a call on my behalf.”
“Why the code name?”
“Would you have agreed to board my horse if you’d known it was me?” she asked.
Realizing he wouldn’t have, and why he wouldn't have - mainly that he was pissed as hell at her - reminded Finn that he shouldn’t be so damn happy to see Elizabeth Hampton standing in his doorway. Scowling, he said, “E.H. Beach, eh? E.H., Elizabeth Hampton.”
She smiled. “I threw in Beach for old time’s sake.”
He snorted as he rose from the chair, his boots tied tight. He swung his jacket on and grabbed his gloves. “No, I don’t suppose I would have agreed to this if I’d known it was you.” He was standing in front of her, both of them at the doorway. Damn, if she wasn’t adorable in her little white parka with a fuzzy fleece collar, white Nanook boots with her jeans tucked in. Her knit mittens were striped with white and light blue and matched the hat she had on, pulled low over her ears.
“Okay then, let’s see this fine piece of horseflesh an experienced buyer like you picked out.” He opened the door for her, but she was looking past him, toward the living room.
“Are the kids here, can I say a quick hello?” She made to move around him, but he grabbed her elbow, spun her and started her out the door.
“No, you can’t. I don’t want you seeing the kids, Liz. This is business deal. Let’s get your horse unloaded and into the barn, then you can take off.”
What the hell was she up to? Why was she even in town?
He didn’t believe for a second that she’d suddenly become interested in owning a horse. He was thinking that there might not even be a horse at all, that the whole thing was just a way to see him, but then he saw the horse trailer attached to her Navigator. Why would she want to see him, anyway? She was all set back in Detroit with her douche bag new boyfriend. One that cooked for her, no less. Hah, there was a kind of sweet irony that Liz would end up with a guy that loved to cook. Maybe she’d get fat again.
But Finn found that he couldn’t wish for anything bad for her. He wanted her to be happy, he really did. It just stabbed him like a knife that her idea of happiness did not include him and the kids.
So, why was she here? Could it really be as simple as buying a horse and needing some place to board it? Why him? Didn’t she realize how badly it would hurt him to have to deal with her on any kind of regular basis? That he ached without her? That since seeing that Davis character at her place, only the ongoing care of his children could keep him from pulling one of Gran’s quilts over his head and staying in bed until spring.
He ignored the hurt look on her face from his refusal to let her see the kids, and made his way to the back of the trailer. He unbolted the door, took out the ramp and led the horse out of the trailer. He felt the blood rush from his head as he got a clear look at the animal.
“Pegasus!” He turned to Liz. “How?”
“Eino said she was your favorite one,” she said, as if that alone was explanation enough for why one of his horses, indeed his most treasured horse, was back on Robbins property.
“She is, but how did you even know about Eino?” he asked. He ran his hands along the beautiful animal. God, how he loved her. It took Finn a second to clarify to himself which female he was currently with merited the sentiment. “Peg,” he said, as if declaring a winner.
“When I decided I wanted to buy a horse, I asked Margo if she knew anyone who wanted to sell. She gave me Eino’s number.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Asked her if she knew anyone who was selling? Or did you ask her who I sold
my horses to?”
She shrugged. “I’m not really sure how I phrased the question.”
“What are you up to, Liz?”
“What? Can’t I buy a horse if I want to? Where else am I going to keep him?”
He turned away from her and started leading Peg to the barn. “You forget, Liz, I happen to know how much you like hidden agendas.”
This was not going well at all, Lizzie thought as she followed Finn into the barn. She hadn’t expected him to fall into her arms begging her to take him back when he answered the door, but she’d hoped it’d go a little better than this.
Here she stood, no lists, no tablets. For the first time in her life, she didn’t have a plan. Oh, buying Finn’s favorite horse was kind of a plan, but, beyond getting Finn to board the beast, she didn’t have a clue. She’d just have to wing it.
Finn was already at the far end of the barn, putting Pegasus into a stall, when she joined him. She sat on a bale of hay across from him and watched as he began brushing her new horse. Neither of them said anything for a while, Lizzie settled in, taking off her mittens and hat.
“You cut your hair,” Finn said.
“Mmmm, about a month ago,” she answered as she brushed her hand through her new short cut.
“Why?” he asked.
She didn’t know if she could explain her decision, one of many she’d made in the last two and a half months, so she only said, “I didn’t need it anymore.”
He looked at her, as if finally seeing her for the first time since she walked into his kitchen door, and nodded his understanding. “It’s cute short. It suits you.”
“Thank you,” she said.
He brushed a few more strokes, then stopped. “You know, I think that’s the first time you’ve ever taken a compliment from me.”
“What do you mean?”
He put the brush down and picked up some other grooming tool, one that Lizzie didn’t know the name of or even what it did. Oh yeah, she was going to make a great horse owner.
“I’ve never heard you just say ‘thank you’ to a compliment. You always crack a joke, or do a ‘get out of here’ kind of thing.”
A silence fell over them as she thought on that. She watched as he worked, his love for the animal obvious. His hands swept across the quivering horse, along its flanks. He ran his hands down its leg, lifting its calf to check the condition of her shoes. She was reminded of the night at the beach when he had done the same to her and she told him the movement always made her think of him with a horse. Apparently Finn had the same thought because as he dropped the horse’s leg he looked at Lizzie with a hunger in his eyes that made her think that maybe, just maybe, all was not lost.
“I never lied to you, you know,” she said quietly.
He dropped his gaze from hers and turned his attention back to Peg. “You didn’t tell me the whole truth though, either.”
“No,” she whispered, “I didn’t.”
When he didn’t respond, but kept on with Peg, Lizzie turned her attention elsewhere. He had done a lot of work in here, she mused to herself. She held her breath as she looked at the wall where the patched holes were, not knowing what she hoped she’d find. The entire wall was now repaired and good as new. She didn’t know what to make of that.
Finn followed her gaze and knew what she was thinking about. He placed a blanket over Peg and put a bucket of feed within her reach, made sure she had plenty of water, then stepped out of the stall, closing the door behind him.
He came to the bale of hay and stood in front of Lizzie. “How are things in Detroit?” he asked. He couldn’t bear to ask her about Cummings. Were they still together? He stole a look at her hand and saw no engagement ring, then chastised himself for looking. The guy would have to work pretty fast to have a ring on Liz’s finger in only a few months. Of course, Finn had wanted to put one on her last October. He didn’t let himself think about that. That was different, he told himself, though couldn’t expound on why that may be true.
“Last time I was there, everything was fine,” she said.
Puzzled, he asked, “What do you mean?”
“I haven’t been in Detroit since before Christmas.”
Visions of Liz and Davis cavorting on white sand beaches almost stopped Finn from asking, but he was curious. “Where have you been?”
“Here. Well, to be exact, at three twelve Lighthouse Drive.”
Finn knew that Lighthouse Drive was a street on the water in Hancock. He waited for Liz to go on.
“My new home,” she said.
“What about your business?” he asked.
Her hazel eyes looked up at him. “Hampton and Associates is doing fine. I work from an office at my new place, and so far have only needed to leave the Copper Country once, to meet a prospective new client. I took on partners to free myself up more. And so I could move back here.”
Finn caught his breath. God, she wouldn’t tease him like this, would she? Would she purposely seek him out and tell him she’d moved back to town when she had no intention of ever being a part of his life? The woman who could devise a plan to sleep with a man a few times to gear up for a real romance could do something like this. In fact, it would be right up her alley.
Suddenly Finn knew that Liz was not that woman. Had never been that woman. Not the Elizabeth Hampton he knew. And loved. Whatever her original intention had been last summer - and he’d be the first to admit it was pretty fucked up – she’d fallen in love with him and wanted to be with him.
Finn. Not Davis Cummings.
With a new sense of assurance, he raised his leg, resting it on the hay bale next to her hip.
“Tell me about Davis,” he said, leaning toward her. He rested his arm on his knee and placed his face level to hers, daring her to meet his gaze.
Meeting him head on, as he knew she would, she said, “Nothing to tell. The first time I saw Davis since the night at the rec center was the night of Annie’s operation.”
He knew it. No way could good girl Liz Hampton sleep with a man she wasn’t in love with. He could kick himself for not sticking around that night at her place and finding out the truth of the situation. His damned pride. He vowed to never let it get in his way with her again.
“I won’t lie to you, Finn, and I won’t omit anything this time. He called quite a bit once I was back in Detroit. I kept putting him off. What you walked in on that night was him making me dinner and me planning on telling him there could never be anything between us. I’ve always liked Davis, and thought at one time that he’d be the perfect guy for me. But we are – always were, really – just friends.”
“Why? Why be just friends if he’s the perfect guy for you?” He knew he was skating on thin ice. He couldn’t be sure she wanted him back, and he was opening himself up to potential heartbreak by taking this route, but he had to know. Had to hear her say it.
“Because he’s not the perfect guy for me, not really. You’re the perfect guy for me, Finn, you always were.”
He realized just how much Liz was opening herself up by being here, by coming to him after he’d walked out on her. Twice. Three times if you count what happened eighteen years ago. Her courage and strength humbled him.
“Finn,” she said, “about that tablet…that list…”
He put his hand up, cutting her off. He turned around and walked out of the barn.
Lizzie watched as Finn left the barn. What now? Did she chase after him? Did she wait? Was he coming back? Should she sit here until spring if that’s what it took?
The hay was cold under her butt and she was just about to give up when he returned.
He held a tablet, not a steno like the ones she used to carry, but a legal-sized pad. He thrust it in her face.
“You’re not the only one with plans, Liz. Here’s my list.”
“Finn, wait, I said…” He pushed the tablet under her nose, stopping her.
Her hand trembled as she took the tablet. The light in the barn was dim, but she
was able to read Finn’s list.
Annie starts walking. It was checked off. Lizzie looked up at Finn, tears stinging her eyes. “Oh Finn, is she…”
“She’s close,” he said, “any day now.” He motioned her back to the paper. “Keep reading.”
The next item was also completed. Get Stevie something for making the honor roll.
She smiled. “I’m not surprised. He’s one sharp kid.” Finn nodded, she returned to the next item. Start horse boarding business. Check.
“I’m your first client,” she said, looking up at him.
“That you are,” he answered. He nodded toward the tablet. “There’s one more item on my list.”
She looked back down at the yellow paper. Marry Elizabeth Hampton. Her head tilted back to see him. His blue eyes – eyes she saw every night when she’d lie awake in bed – stared down at her.
“It’s not checked off,” he said. The words she’d spoken at the rec center echoed in her ear.
She smiled, and pulled the pen from his hand. She slashed it across the paper. “It is now.”
“Elizabeth,” he whispered. She was in his arms the next instant. His mouth sought hers and was ecstatic to feel it open beneath his. She tasted wonderful, like winter and mint, fresh, clean. She tasted like the woman he loved.
“You feel so good,” she sighed, catching the breath that he had robbed from her in his desire to taste her. She was clinging to him, tearing at his jacket, trying to find the zipper.
He did the same, unzipping her jacket, putting his hands on her sweater, needing to feel her body, the only body he’d ever desire. His hands brushed under her sweater, going right to her breasts. She let out a squeal as his freezing cold hands touched her warm skin. He instantly released her, but she pressed herself against him, not wanting to lose contact.
“I forgot how hard it was to makeout in the wintertime. Cold hands, too many layers. Just one of the many things about the U.P. I’ll have to get used to again.” She laughed the boisterous laugh that he loved so much, the laugh he’d been aching to hear these past months.