Bound to the Past (Starville Series Book 1)

by Lauryn Michaels

Martha let out a fake sigh of relief, then turned toward a laughing Nicky. “Sorry, dear. I didnʼt mean to neglect you.”

  “It was quite fun to watch, actually,” Nicky assured her, still smiling. “How are you, Martha?”

  “Very well, thank you. Iʼm glad you came.”

  “Whereʼs Dad?” Brent chimed in.

  “On the patio, painting—as always. I swear heʼs been so absorbed in his canvas lately that Iʼm lucky if I get to see him for lunch and dinner.”

  “Come on, letʼs go bother the old man a little.” Brent winked at Nicky, a hint of mischief playing across his eyes as he grabbed her arm and dragged her to the back of the house.

  Richard Hayden didnʼt seem at all bothered by their arrival. On the contrary, he walked toward them with an enthusiastic smile. “Now, this is a good surprise,” he said, hugging both. “Happy birthday, son.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Itʼs good to see you again, Nicky.” Richard turned back to Brent and gave him a powerful pat on the back. “Guess what? Iʼm even happy to see you!”

  “Imagine that,” he joked. “So, what is it youʼre attempting to paint this time?”

  His father shrugged. “Oh, a little of this, a little of that.”

  Nicky walked curiously to the canvas the man had been working on, and her mouth dropped open at the sight of the beautiful landscape before her eyes. “My! Itʼs gorgeous!”

  He gave her a satisfied look, then jabbed an elbow into Brentʼs ribs. “You need to bring this lovely lady over more often, son.”

  “Iʼll do my best, Dad.”

  The sound of a car approaching and the loud screeching of brakes that followed broke the joyful atmosphere. Martha frowned. “Do you think it might be Sara?”

  “Doesnʼt sound like it, but I havenʼt invited anybody else.” Brent started walking back to the front of the house but stopped midway when he saw Jack getting out of the driverʼs seat, a smug grin on his face. “I should have known it was you, Turner.”

  “Iʼm begging you, Brent, please, take the keys away from him,” Sara complained as she got out of the car. “One more mile, and I swear Iʼd be dead. Am I still alive, by the way?” she added, feeling for her arms and legs.

  “Ha ha.” Jack pushed her against the car door and leaned over to kiss her.

  Brent cleared his throat. “You do remember youʼre not alone, yes?”

  “At least now I know Iʼm alive,” Sara joked with a shaky smile, then took a step forward to hug Brent. “Happy birthday, handsome.”

  “Thank you, beautiful.”

  Jackʼs retort was interrupted by the arrival of Martha Hayden, who strode toward them with a big smile. “Sara! I’m happy you made it.”

  She smiled as the woman hugged her. “Thank you, Martha. Iʼd like to introduce you to someone.”

  At her cue, Jack reluctantly moved forward. “Mrs. Hayden,” he started as the older woman raised her curious gaze to him. “Iʼm Jack Turner, a friend of—”

  “I know who you are.” She studied him from head to toe. “And I have to say, youʼre even more handsome than I remembered.”

  Brent chuckled at the bewildered expression on his face. “Donʼt traumatize him too much, Mom, heʼs still recovering.”

  “Nah, Iʼm just messing with him a little,” she joked, patting his arm.

  Sara laughed, then turned around at the sound of footsteps behind her. “Hello, Richard.”

  “This must be my lucky day. Look how many beautiful girls came to see me!” The manʼs lighthearted smirk slipped the instant he noticed Jack standing beside his wife. Saraʼs heart sank as she followed his sharp gaze.

  “Richard, Iʼm sure you remember Jack?” she asked cautiously.

  He nodded, his eyes fixed on Jack. “I didnʼt know you were coming.”

  “Of course not. You never know what happens in this house anymore,” Martha grumbled.

  Jack didnʼt reply, but his jaw tightened as Richard took a step forward and stood in front of him. This man was one of J.T.ʼs best friends, he reminded himself patiently as Brentʼs father scrutinized him in silence. Of course he wouldnʼt be happy to have his friendʼs suspected murderer in his home. Jack couldnʼt blame him for that. Which was why, when the manʼs arm rose upward, he narrowed his eyes and waited for the inevitable blow.

  And the blow came.

  Richardʼs powerful hand whacked him on the shoulder, making his eyes widen in shock.

  “Holy smokes, Turner!” the man exclaimed with a laugh. “If I didnʼt know itʼs impossible, Iʼd swear youʼre really J.T.ʼs son. Martha, isnʼt he a copy of J.T.?”

  “He looks just like him, yes,” his wife nodded from behind him.

  “I remember when you were a kid, only a few years older than my Brent. He was always at your heels, but you kept snubbing him.” He turned around briefly to glance at his son, then shook his head. “And look at the two of you now, together on my sonʼs birthday. J.T. would be proud of you both.”

  Unsure of what to reply to that, Jack slanted an embarrassed glance at Sara. As if sensing his discomfort, she quietly slid a hand into his.

  “If youʼre done bothering my guests, Richard, Iʼd like to start this party,” Marthaʼs cheerful voice interjected. Nodding, her husband put an arm around her shoulders, and the couple led the way to the back.

  Sara couldnʼt help chuckling at the astonished expression on Jackʼs face as he looked around in awe. Not that she could blame him. The Haydensʼ ranch was the most incredible place sheʼd ever seen. The backyard—if it could even be called that—was slightly elevated, thus overlooking the entire property. There was a huge, sparkling pool in the middle of a shaded patio, and white, fluffy loungers sat on the tiled area all around it.

  “Do you like it?” she asked Jack.

  “Are you kidding me? Iʼve never seen anything quite like it.”

  “This place is always impressive when you see it for the first time.”

  “And the second, and the third, and the fourth,” Nicky pointed out with a smirk.

  Richard and Martha exchanged a silent look. “Letʼs have a drink by the pool while we wait for our lunch to be ready, shall we?” he suggested. At his cue, one of the waiters hovering around immediately handed full glasses of colorful drinks to everyone.

  “Your place is amazing, Mr. Hayden.”

  The man swept his words away with his hand. “Call me Richard, for Godʼs sake. I feel old when you youngsters call me Mr. Hayden. Take a seat.”

  Sara did and took a sip from her glass, while Jack ignored the invitation and kept walking around. “How many head do you have, if you donʼt mind me asking?”

  Richard cleared his throat before answering. “Not as many as we used to, Iʼm afraid. Our crop is our main source of income at the moment,” he said, pointing at the field clearly visible in the distance.

  “You should see the corn maze later, Jack,” Brent chimed in. “Dad usually opens it to the public in the fall, until Thanksgiving. Itʼs pretty cool.”

  “I would love to.”

  Richard cleared his throat again, then turned to his son. “Brent, I forgot to tell you that I saw your Layla the other day. Sheʼs such a darling, and as gorgeous as always. How come you didnʼt bring her over today?”

  This time it was Nickyʼs turn to cough as she choked on the little sip sheʼd just taken. Sara slanted her a quiet, worried look as Brent shrugged at his father. “I didnʼt think sheʼd be in the mood for partying. Sheʼs been pretty down lately, you know? Charleneʼs death has really hit her hard.”

  “Poor girl, I can imagine. The two of them were such good friends.” Martha shook her head, then turned to Jack. “Come sit with us, dear.”

  He obeyed and sat reluctantly beside Sara but kept looking around with fascination. “Whatʼs on the other side of the creek?”

  “Itʼs, uh, our neighborsʼ property.” Richard buried his face into his glass and took a large swig from it. “Hey, looks like our food is ready. Letʼs go eat!”

 
Jack frowned as he watched the older man spring up from his chair, but didnʼt comment. After taking Saraʼs hand, they followed everybody to the big table set up in one corner of the patio, where the waiters had placed an enormous number of plates and drinks. The rest of the day went by all too fast, with everybody enjoying the exquisite food, then relaxing by the pool all afternoon. It was dark outside by the time Richard announced they were going to retire for the night.

  “You guys stay as long as you want, though,” Martha quickly added. “In fact, why donʼt yʼall just spend the night? We have so many rooms and not nearly enough visitors.”

  Sara raised a brow. “Are you sure?”

  Richard nodded. “Absolutely. Our bedroom is on the other side of the house, so we wonʼt hear a peep. You kids make yourselves at home.”

  “Just, please, donʼt let our son destroy the house too much,” Martha interjected with a chuckle.

  Brent winked at his friends. “Letʼs wait for the elders to go to bed, then weʼll start our wild party.”

  His father smacked the back of his head. “I heard that.”

  “So I hoped.”

  Jack tried to keep a straight face, but Sara and Nicky burst out laughing.

  A couple of hours later, everyone had gone to bed except for Jack and Sara, who were walking hand in hand along the side of the pool, still reluctant to put an end to the beautiful night. He stared absently at the water sparkling in the moonlight, then suddenly turned back to Sara. “Can I ask you something?”

  She frowned at his serious tone. “Of course.”

  “Am I losing my mind, or did you notice that the Haydens looked embarrassed every time I mentioned the ranch?”

  Her amusement faded instantly. “You didnʼt get it, did you?”

  “Get what?”

  “Jack, the property on the other side of the creek…itʼs J.T.ʼs.”

  Besides the almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw, he didnʼt flinch. “How do you know?”

  “Brent told me once that Richard and J.T. were neighbors, so I put two and two together,” she explained contritely. “Iʼm sorry. I thought you knew.”

  He shrugged. “Itʼs all right. Itʼs a strange feeling, though, you know. I donʼt even remember the ranch, yet―”

  “Yet youʼve been staring at the creek separating the two properties all night,” she finished for him.

  Jack gave her a faint smile. “I did, didnʼt I?”

  “Yes. Iʼm sorry. I canʼt imagine―”

  He placed his fingers on her lips to stop her. “Donʼt, sweetheart. Itʼs not your fault.”

  “Yeah, well, Iʼm sorry anyway. What happened to you is terribly unfair!”

  “Itʼs life. And life is unfair sometimes.”

  His calm words, combined with the detached, matter-of-fact way heʼd spoken them, made Sara want to scream. Or stomp her feet…something. “Do you ever get mad, Jack? I mean, seriously, do you ever lose control?”

  “Whatʼs that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that life has been incredibly harsh to you, yet you donʼt seem to care!” she blurted, exasperated. “Itʼs like nothing ever fazes you!”

  He shrugged. “Iʼm not the only man whoʼs had a tough life, Sara.”

  “Really,” she said, fighting the urge to shake him. “Letʼs see, you grew up on the street—God knows how or why—and when you finally found a loving home, it was brutally taken away from you,” she started listing, without even bothering to hide the irritation in her voice.

  “Sara…”

  “Iʼm not done! You were unjustly accused of murdering your father, spent three years in jail for absolutely no reason, and everything that rightly belonged to you was ripped out of your hands. Everybodyʼs always treated you like crap, and―oh, yeah, they still do! Not to mention that you left this town ten years ago and still somebody tried to kill you the very night of your return.” She sighed. “Jack, youʼve been hit more times in two weeks than anybody I know has in an entire lifetime. I saw you earlier. I know you were expecting Richard to hit you, like you deserved it or something! How can this possibly not drive you insane?”

  “You donʼt know if Iʼm innocent.”

  “Bullshit. The truth is, life has been awful to you, and I donʼt understand how the hell you manage to keep your darn cool.”

  “And what am I supposed to do, Sara? Huh? Slam my head against the wall, screaming that everythingʼs unfair?” Jack said, his voice deceptively calm. “Things are what they are. I canʼt change them. The past is the past, the present is the present.”

  “Amen.” Sara rolled her eyes. “For Godʼs sake, Jack, are you even human? If you want to slam your head against that wall, then do it! Scream, curse, do whatever you have to do―but do something. Youʼre always so freakinʼ cold and detached from everything that sometimes I wonder if youʼre a robot. Do you not feel any emotions at all?” she burst out in exasperation. And she regretted it a split second later—as soon as she noticed his handsome face hardening, his jaw clenching, and his eyes turning icy cold.

  “You done?”

  Guilt gnawed at her, and she reached for him. “Honey, Iʼm sorry. I didnʼt mean―”

  Jack stepped back with a firm shake of his head. “Youʼre right, Iʼm nothing but a cold, detached, emotionless robot. Ainʼt that what everybody says, anyway?”

  “Jack.” She took a frantic step toward him, but he moved out of reach again.

  “Iʼm going to bed.”

  “Jack!”

  “Good night, Sara.”

  She stomped after him and grabbed his arm to stop him. “See? Youʼre doing it again!”

  He didnʼt answer. As he slowly turned around to face her, however, she saw the anger flashing in his eyes, making them sparkle in the moonlight. “What the hell do you want from me?”

  “I want you to stop running from your emotions.” She tugged slightly at his arm. “If youʼre mad at me, tell me. Talk to me, fight with me. Heck, yell at me if you have to, but please, donʼt turn your back to me,” she said with a desperate edge. She sighed, disheartened, as he just kept staring at her unwaveringly. “Would you say something, please?”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “Tell me…what youʼre feeling.”

  Jack scoffed a cold laugh. “I feel that Iʼm about to strangle you. Happy?”

  The sharpness in his voice made her flinch, and she took an instinctive step back. “There. See? I knew you were mad,” she tried to joke with a weak, shaky smile.

  He wasnʼt amused. “Iʼm in no mood to play games, Sara. Say whatever it is you have to say, then Iʼm going to turn my back to you and go to sleep, whether you like it or not.”

  Once again, Sara felt the irresistible urge to stomp her feet. With a sigh, she raised her arms in surrender. “Dammit, canʼt we even have a decent fight?”

  “Iʼm afraid not, since Iʼm just a cold and detached robot.”

  “You forgot emotionless,” she mumbled, half hoping to make him smile but knowing that sheʼd fail—and the hostile, irritated way he kept looking at her confirmed it. In truth, the whole situation was so petty and ridiculous that she didnʼt even know whether to laugh or cry at this point. Though she did feel on the verge of tears. Why in the world were they even fighting, anyway? She didnʼt want to fight with him. All she wanted was…

  Sara gasped with shock as the sudden realization of what was really going on hit her. She had done it on purpose. She had unconsciously tried to shake Jack up. Sheʼd wanted to get a reaction out of him, a sign that he actually cared about his life. That he cared about her and their relationship.

  Evidently interpreting her silence as the end of their conversation, Jack turned around abruptly and started walking away.

  “Where are you going? We need to talk!”

  “You talk. Iʼm going to sleep,” he grumbled without turning around.

  This time she stomped her feet for real as, for the second time in a few minutes, she found herself running after him. “Jack,
Iʼm warning you, come back, or―”

  He raised a hand. “Whatever youʼre about to say, remember Iʼm too cold, indifferent, and emotionless to care.” He stopped, standing at the edge of the pool, and turned around to give her an icy look. “Now, if you donʼt mind, Iʼd like to go to bed.”

  Enough was enough.

  Sara slammed her palms against his chest with a hiss of outrage and shoved him hard. Too stunned to react, Jack gaped at her as he reeled backward. An instant later, he fell straight into the water behind him with a loud splash.

  She gasped in dismay, slapping a hand to her mouth as she watched him go underwater, then slowly come back to the surface. Without a word, he shook his head hard to get the water off his hair, then leaned against the edge of the pool. When he finally raised his gaze up to her, his eyes were so dangerously dark that she got defensive.

  “Are you all right?” she asked. Her heart was hammering so painfully against her ribs that her voice shook.

  Jack shrugged, running a hand through his wet hair. “Aside from my pride, yes.”

  Sara stared at him, mortified. She wanted to apologize, but the way he kept glaring at her, as if wishing to strike her dead, she wasnʼt sure heʼd even appreciate her apology right now. “Arenʼt you…going to get out of there?” she asked instead, kneeling down to the edge in a desperate attempt to make peace.

  He shrugged again.

  Not sure what to make of his dark gaze and his silence, she murmured a guilty, “Then I guess I-Iʼll leave you alone now.”

  “Not so fast, sweetheart.”

  Before her panic-stricken mind could register what was happening, Jack jumped out of the water and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her into the pool with him. Sara barely had time to screech in surprise before she crashed into the water. As frantic and panicky as she was, she sank down like a rock and would have probably drowned if he hadnʼt helped her right back up.

  “You okay?” he asked with a chuckle, patting her back as she coughed and sputtered.

  Sara wished looks could really kill. Chest heaving, she took a few big gulps of air, but her eyes were still flashing with fury when he tried to hug her. “Get away from me, you monster!”

  “Oh, cʼmon!”