Once Burned

by Suzie O'Connell

  “Yep, you definitely don’t get that in a car. Or quite the sense of scale, either.”

  “Indeed not.” She set her sandwich down and leaned forward on her elbows. “So, what’s the story behind the bike? I know it has a story.”

  “Not much of one. I bought it when I graduated from high school from an old guy down in Devyn for cheap. It needed a little love, so I used it as a project in college. Had it ever since.”

  “College,” Lindsay murmured wistfully. “I can’t tell you how often I’ve wondered what I missed by not going right after high school.”

  “You could still go, you know.”

  “Maybe, but if I do, it won’t be the same experience I would’ve had going straight out of high school. I lost that wide-eyed wonder of new independence a long time ago.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “My parents used to tell me that the experiences of discovering themselves, making friends, and testing their independence were even more valuable than the degrees they earned. I already know how I am, and maybe I struggle a lot, but I’ve proven that I can be independent. Do you think they’re right?”

  Henry thought back over his four years at the university in Devyn, and with one appalling exception, which he didn’t feel comfortable divulging without Nick’s and Beth’s permission, he very much agreed with Lindsay’s parents. “I’d say yes, definitely. I had a great time, and while I don’t know if I discovered who I am at college, I certainly made great friends and learned a lot about being independent… even if I did go to school less than an hour’s drive from home.”

  “Skye and Evie agree, too.”

  There was a touch—just a hint—of bitterness in her voice, and when she grimaced, he suspected she was both envious of her friends and

  “Were you supposed to go to school with them?”

  She nodded. “But I had a brand-new baby to take care of.”

  “I’m sorry, Lindsay. I really am.”

  She glanced sharply at him. “I’m not. Maybe things haven’t been all sunshine and roses for me, and maybe I often wish things had happened differently, but I love my son, and I will never regret having him. That beautiful little boy is worth every dream and luxury I’ve given up and then some.”

  Henry held his hands up. “I was just trying to say I’m sorry for everything you must have been through and that you had to give up so much for your son.”

  When her scowl deepened, he swore under his breath. Obviously, he was not communicating his thoughts very well, and undoubtedly, she’d had to defend herself and her son in similar conversations against people far more judgmental than Henry.

  “I’m not sorry you had your son,” Henry said gently. “I admire your strength. What I’m trying to say is that I wish you hadn’t needed to sacrifice what you want. I wish you could’ve had your son and your dreams.”

  “Life doesn’t work that way for young, single mothers.”

  Lindsay’s tone wasn’t any less defensive, so Henry replied, “Unfortunately not. Which is probably why I didn’t question Melanie too closely when she told me I was going to be a father.” He hoped that he could salvage the conversation by redirecting it back to his mistakes because her circumstances were apparently too tender a subject for Lindsay. “I’m not sure she could do what you have. In fact, I know she can’t. She can’t even make the payments on the loan I gave her and her friend Tamlyn to open up their own salon. Tam had no problem paying me back, but I have yet to see enough from Mel to cover two full payments.”

  Lindsay stared at him with blatant disbelief. He offered her a self-mocking smile and nodded.

  “Yeah, I was that stupid. I sold almost half my cows to do it, too, and it’s taken me the two years since to rebuild my herd, but I don’t regret it because Tam has busted her ass to make that salon into something lucrative, and she deserves all the success she’s seeing.” He reached across the table and took Lindsay’s hand, skimming his thumb over her knuckles for a moment before he pressed his lips to them and gazed up at her with one corner of his mouth lifted. “I suppose that’s why I appreciate that you got mad at me for paying for your candy and tickets when we went to Virginia City on Monday.”

  “And for the pictures. Which I love, by the way.”

  “I might have kept pushing because you’re pretty cute when you’re indignant.”

  “Uh-huh,” Lindsay said with a quirk of her lips. Then her brows dipped in a frown. “Is she pretty? Mel, I mean. Not Tam.”

  “They’re both beautiful,” he replied. “But not in the same way you are. Their looks are deliberate and styled like you might expect from professional beauticians—not natural like yours. And since I get the feeling you don’t hear it enough from people other than your parents and friends and assholes like those two in Virginia City who are too stupid to really see you….” He took her by the chin and lightly kissed her lips. “You are a very beautiful woman, Lindsay. Inside and out.”

  Her shy smile was confirmation of his suspicion as was the way she focused her attention on smoothing out the wrinkled corner of her sandwich wrapper. After a moment, she met his gaze again, but when she spoke, her voice was quiet.

  “I’m sorry, Henry. I didn’t mean to get so defensive. Habit.”

  I’m sorry that it is a habit, but I understand. People can be pretty judgmental.”

  “It’s getting better as I get older, but at first, yeah, I heard some pretty nasty things from people I knew… and from complete strangers.”

  “As if you didn’t already have enough to deal with.”

  “It is what it is.” She sighed. “I guess I’m a little edgy right now, too, because as much as I miss my son and can’t wait to see him again, I’m not ready to go home. Mostly, I’m not ready to get home, find no check in my mailbox, and have to call Max again.”

  “Why would you have to call him? Isn’t child support handled through the state?”

  “Yes, but he wasn’t making any money then, so it’s barely enough to buy a few days’ worth of groceries. I have to call him on occasion to ask for more when things like Peewee football come up.”

  “Can’t you petition for more child support?”

  “It’s not worth getting embroiled in that kind of battle with him. He turns everything into a fight as it is, but me asking him for a little extra help makes him feel powerful, and so he complies.”

  “I’m not sure I’d call that complying.”

  She shrugged again. “It’s better than what he’d do if I tried to go after him for more child support. Besides, we’re doing all right.” She glanced at her sandwich but continued to ignore it. “Honestly, I’d rather struggle on my own without any help at all from him because Noah comes back a total brat every time he goes to see his father. He had just returned from Max’s when he decided—at the last minute—that he didn’t want to come to Montana with me.”

  “Do you think Max does that on purpose?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “What an asshole.”

  Lindsay snorted. “There is one thing I would change, if I could. I would go back and leave him before Noah was born instead of trying to hold on to him.”

  “Why didn’t you? It doesn’t sound like there was much love between you.”

  “Back then I thought there was. And I was young, stupid, and scared, and I thought we needed him. Now I know all to well that we’d be much better off without him.”

  “Sounds like it.” The bitterness was beginning to creep back into her voice, so Henry abruptly changed the subject. “You gonna finish that sandwich or let the flies have it?”

  She regarded him with lifted brows. “Getting tired of listening to my sob story?”

  “Not at all, but I brought you out today to have a good time, not to reopen old wounds.”

  “Fair enough,” she remarked and picked up her sandwich again.

  He watched her while she ate, perhaps more disturbed by her sudden distance than he should be. He
had no claim on her beyond this week, and what claim she allowed him didn’t mean it was his place to soothe her or to try to make amends for what her ex continued to do, no matter how much he wanted to. Lindsay was a strong and fiercely independent woman—of that he was absolutely certain—and he wondered if maybe he had gone too far with the doting boyfriend role. Just because she’d said she wanted to feel like someone’s woman for a while didn’t mean she was actually looking for a man. If that was the case, was it because she enjoyed her independence too much or because she was so used to heartbreak that she had given up on relationships?

  Shaking his head, he gathered their trash in the brown paper sack their lunch had come in and stuffed it in his saddlebags as there were no garbage cans. When she climbed on the bike behind him, he said, “If you want me to stop at any time, all you have to do is ask.”

  “I appreciate that,” she replied with a little more of her usual spunk. “But I’m kinda enjoying the excuse to hold on to you. If we stop, I’d have to let go.”

  “In that case… I could take the long way home and ride down through the Big Hole Valley. It’s beautiful, too.”

  “I’m beginning to believe everything here is beautiful.”

  The way she said it and the way she rested her cheek briefly against the back of his neck for a moment before she sat up to put her helmet on made him wonder if she include him in her statement. He reached back to playfully squeeze her leg, and she laughed and again tucked her body against his with her arms snuggly around his waist. Unexpectedly, she returned his caress with one of her own, and shivers trailed from his head to his heels as she raked her teeth over his neck.

  “There’s my Lindsay,” he murmured too quietly for her to hear as he started the bike.

  * * *

  Lindsay tried for hours to reconcile her conflicting thoughts regarding Henry with limited success. What he made her feel scared her because their arrangement wouldn’t last, and she wasn’t sure she wanted it to even if he was open to it; every time she had felt remotely like this, it hadn’t ended so well.

  Her reaction to Henry’s innocent expression of sympathy on their ride had baffled her all the way through the Big Hole Valley to the turn off that brought them back to Northstar, at which point she had realized she was attempting to keep herself from getting too attached. She had known full well that his apology was a statement of sympathy and not regret that she’d had her son, but she was so used to being rejected that it was becoming a habit to shield herself in preparation for it when she could. Since what she and Henry had was make believe, she was guaranteed to get her heart broken again if she forgot that.

  She was painfully aware of her precarious situation, but she was also mindful that the part of her that hadn’t been destroyed first by Max and later by Logan wanted this thing with Henry to be real. Their easy banter, the playful caresses, the easy intimacy—it all felt so wonderful and right. And now that it was Friday and the football game was tomorrow, she found herself wanting to spend every last second she could with him. So even though she needed to pack, when he’d invited her, Vince, Evie, and Skye to his house for a fire in his backyard, she hadn’t been able to say no. Nor had she been able to say no, once he’d gotten the fire going, to curling up on the chaise lounge with him, which was why she was now enjoying the warmth of the fire with her head resting on his chest and his arms tucked comfortably around her.

  “Too bad Aaron had to work tonight, eh, Skye?” Evie asked.

  “It is too bad,” Henry remarked. “I haven’t seen him smile like he did last weekend, so, I’m quite interested to see what tomorrow will bring.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up, Henry,” Skye said. “I don’t know that I’ll be much company for a while yet.”

  “Bullshit,” Lindsay said. “You’re always good company.”

  “To you, maybe, but we’ve been best friends most of our lives, and you’d put up with me no matter what.”

  “Yes, I would, but not just because we’re best friends. Because you’re worth it. Darren on the other hand…. Well, he and Max really are two peas in the same rotten pod. So, quit feeling sorry for yourself and enjoy the attention of your sweet, sexy Hammond twin.”

  “Like you are?” Skye asked with laughter thick in her voice.

  “Yep. Just like I am.”

  “You’re starting to sound like someone else I know,” Skye remarked, turning her gaze pointedly on Evie. “What have you done to her, Evie?”

  “I haven’t done anything. That’s all Henry.”

  “Hey, I haven’t done anything, either. This was her idea.”

  “Uh-huh,” Lindsay said flatly. “You haven’t exactly been an unwilling participant in this little charade, either, mister.”

  “What can I say?” he asked with a chuckle. “I’m a sucker for beautiful, stubborn, strong women, and you can blame that on my amazing mother.”

  “She is amazing,” Lindsay agreed. “I never felt as welcome or wanted by Max’s mother as I do by her. And she hardly knows me.”

  “Take that as a compliment because she never did warm up to Mel, even after Dylan was born.”

  “Believe me, Henry, I do.”

  She stopped short of saying she’d felt almost immediately a deeper connection with Tracie Hammond than she’d ever had with Max’s mother, who hadn’t seen or called Noah once in the five years since she and her husband had moved to Virginia to help Max’s sister during her battle with aggressive breast cancer. She couldn’t fault the Ulrichs for that move, but Noah was their family, too, and she knew they’d been back to Washington at least twice to check on their house, which they had decided to rent out rather than sell. And it took little effort to pick up a phone or send a birthday card.

  Thank God he doesn’t remember him.

  “Whatever you’re thinking about,” Henry whispered close to her ear, “stop.”

  Her eyes widened. How had he known? Because, the way she sat, he couldn’t see her face or the scowl plastered to it.

  “You tensed,” he murmured before she could ask. “So I’m guessing it had something to do with Max.”

  “His parents,” she confirmed, “who seem to have forgotten they have a grandson. Given the choice, I think they would have preferred to ignore Noah from the get-go.”

  “I guess that explains where Max gets it. What made you think of them?”

  “Comparing them to your mom. Both your parents, really. They’re such warm-hearted people, and I’m glad I got to meet them while I was here.”

  “They’re certainly fond of you.”

  The others were talking about Vince and Evie’s plans for their Hawaiian honeymoon, so Lindsay and Henry let go of their conversation to focus on happier things. She let the solid warmth of the man holding her soothe away her irritation with people who no longer had any right to hurt her, sighing contentedly when she was able to push those feelings aside with ease. She wasn’t ready for this thing with Henry to end, and she wasn’t ready to leave him or the incredible peace and beauty of Northstar. He’d definitely upheld his end of their deal—perhaps too well. She curled her hand against his chest, then flexed her fingers and smoothed a wrinkle from the soft fabric of his navy-blue T-shirt.

  She turned her gaze skyward and took in the stunning peach-colored sunset that had ignited the sky while she was preoccupied. She didn’t often see that sharpness of color back home where the marine air usually softened the tones. She was going to miss that, too, and methodically, she committed every detail from the exact shades of orange and lavender in the sky to the dancing flames in the fire pit to the laughter of her friends to the comforting weight of Henry’s arms around her to memory.

  “Comfortable?”

  Lindsay jerked her attention to Evie, frowning in annoyance. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Obviously. Vince is heading inside to get drinks, and he asked what you wanted.” Evie shifted her gaze to Lindsay’s six-foot, not-so-squishy pillow. “Maybe we should’ve let you ask, Henry. Sh
e might’ve heard you.”

  “How ‘bout I make it up to you, Evie, by getting the drinks myself. Lindsay, what can I get you?”

  “Do you have any of that Belgian White beer you had me try the other day?”

  “You mean the Harvest Moon Beltian White? Sure do. I’ll bring you one.”

  “You’re a true gentleman, Henry,” Evie remarked. “Isn’t he, Linds?”

  She only nodded and eyed her friend.

  “Well, my mama did try to raise me right.”

  Lindsay stood so Henry could get up, then sat in the chaise lounge and watched him walk up to the back deck of his house. She kept watching until he disappeared inside.

  “Babe, would you mind fetching some more firewood?” Evie asked her husband. “We’re getting low.”

  “Sure thing, sweets.”

  Not a very subtle orchestration, Evie. Glowering at her companion, Lindsay sighed. “Get whatever you feel you need to say out so I can go back to enjoying my evening.”

  In true Evie fashion, she didn’t miss a beat. “Do you honestly think you can just walk away from him without looking back like none of this happened?”

  “Yes, I do because that’s what has to happen. That was the deal.”

  “Why, Linds? I’ve never seen you as comfortable with anyone as you are with him.”

  “It’s all part of—”

  “Part of the deal. So you’ve said. Repeatedly. But I know what I’m seeing.”

  “You want to know why it’s so easy to be with Henry, Evie? It’s temporary. No strings attached, no fear of things going wrong, and no expectations beyond distraction. It’s freeing, and Henry is a very considerate companion.”

  “Then why—”

  “Give it a rest, Evie!” Lindsay snapped. “I don’t have time for a relationship, and I’m not looking for one, anyhow. And Henry’s definitely not ready for one. Neither of us needs any more complications.”

  Evie pointed a finger at her. “I call BS. Everyone has baggage, Linds, but there’s something happening here, and I firmly believe that Henry may be the man to help you unpack.”

  “I thought that about Logan, too, remember? I thought he wanted to be that man, but he had no plans to be and ended up tossing another suitcase on top of my gargantuan pile of baggage.”