by Angel Smits
“Hello, Dutch, Elizabeth.”
“Hey, sweetheart.” Dutch gave her a hug then sat down. “Elizabeth, it’s Addie.” He didn’t even bother to wait for Elizabeth to acknowledge her.
“Addie?” Elizabeth frowned as she looked at her.
Addie held her breath.
“Oh, yes. Addie. You’re Cal’s friend from school. I remember.”
Addie looked at Dutch and saw the strain on his face. He looked tired and worn out. “Are you okay?” she asked him softly.
“I’m fine.” He forced a smile. “Lots keeping me busy at the station these days.” His eyes went to Elizabeth, who was focusing on her brisket, eyes that were distant and yet focused at the same time. It hurt to watch.
“I have some friends visiting from Austin. I’d like you to meet them.” She waved to Marcus and Ryan. Dutch glanced over, then smiled up at her.
“Ah, hon. Looks like it might be more than a friend.” He gave her hand a squeeze.
“I—I hope so.” She put her hand on his shoulder and made the introductions.
* * *
MARCUS HAD WATCHED Addie in her natural habitat all afternoon. Surrounded by family, friends and traditions of time, she smiled and doled out hugs like she was related to everyone and hadn’t seen them in years.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She was beautiful and warm. The older couple he’d just met were obviously dear to her, and he wished he could ease the pain he saw in her eyes when she looked at them.
The woman, Elizabeth, was definitely suffering from the effects of dementia. The wear and tear of being her caregiver showed on her husband’s face. Marcus understood, remembering the long hours he’d spent at Carolyn’s side.
“Dad!” Ryan came running up to where he sat at a picnic table. He was obviously out of breath. Most of the kids in Addie’s family were much younger than Ryan, but some of the ranch hands’ kids were his age. They’d bonded over video games and, of all things, horses. Their knowledge and Ryan’s suddenly insatiable interest in the animals made them click.
The ranch kids were more than willing to share their knowledge, and Ryan sucked it up like a hungry sponge.
“What?” He smiled at Ryan’s flushed face.
“DJ and the ranch boss, Patrick, are taking us down to the corral. They said I could ride one of the horses. If it’s okay with you.”
Marcus paused, a shiver of apprehension making him pause.
“Please, Dad. I’ll be careful. Some of the kids are sleeping in the hayloft. Can I? Please?”
Addie’s brother had impressed him with his strength and knowledge before, plus his friendliness today. Ryan would be in good hands. He still paused before answering. “If DJ’s there, I’m okay with it.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Just don’t—”
“I know, Dad. I’ll be careful.” Ryan grinned, and with a lift of his hand, a gesture he’d seen the ranch hands use several times in the day, Ryan was heading toward the barn.
“That was nice of you, Dad,” Addie whispered in his ear. He hadn’t heard her return. She sat on the bench seat, her back against the tabletop. “He’ll have a blast. You’re getting better at letting go?”
“He’s fallen in love with horses. And yes, I’m trying.” Marcus watched Ryan run, enjoying his abandon. He hadn’t seen him this carefree since—well, since before Carolyn got sick. He looked at Addie. “Thanks for inviting us. He’s happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.”
“You’re welcome.” She leaned closer. “But I didn’t just invite him.” Was that a blush on her cheeks? “You’re here, too.”
Their gazes met and held. So much danced in the air between them. As if on cue, the band that had been playing quiet background music stepped up to the microphones. “Ladies and gents. It’s time to party!” The fiddle player stepped forward and launched into a fast riff. The crowd applauded and couples stood. Addie laughed and grabbed his hand.
“Oh, no. I don’t know how to do this.” He swallowed his panic.
“I’ll teach you. It’s easy. Come on.” She tugged his hand, and the laughter in her voice pulled him to her. He’d try just about anything to please her—even make a fool of himself. What’s the worst that could happen? It wasn’t like he’d ever see most of these people again anyway.
He let her lead him to the edge of the dance floor. Most of the couples gravitated toward the center, specifically the area right in front of the band. Good. He’d stay back here.
“Watch me.” She took his hands in hers, and that was pleasure enough.
Marcus looked at her feet that were moving way too fast. He shook his head and laughed.
She leaned closer, and, ignoring the beat of the music, she slowly demonstrated the individual steps. Then she made him repeat them, once, twice, then faster, then faster still. He laughed, and she took his hands and tugged him farther out onto the floor.
By the second song, he’d figured out those steps and could almost keep up with her.
Until she turned and looked at him again. He stumbled. Not because he didn’t know the dance. He was knocked over by her, her smile, her enthusiasm. By how much he wanted her.
“Come on.” She grabbed his hand again when the song ended. They headed toward the bar, and his heart sank.
When was the last time he’d been to a dance? These types of activities included alcohol. While he wasn’t tempted, and he didn’t need it—he knew about expectations.
Addie reached into a metal tub filled of ice. She yanked out two long-necked bottles and shoved them under the edge of the tub. “Handy can opener there,” he commented. She nodded.
“Whatever works.” She handed him the dark bottle and upended hers to her lips. He had to force himself to look away from the bottle, and her lips. He turned the label of his and smiled, chagrinned. He needed to trust her. The rich root beer tasted sweet and cool going down.
“I understand, Marcus.” She leaned against him and tilted her face to his. The world faded away fast, leaving him alone with her, with the scent of her hair, the root beer and the night. Nothing more.
She froze, looking up at him. She didn’t look away. She didn’t move.
The music was the only thing that broke through the haze that had hold of him. It slowed, mellow and sweet. He touched her soft cheek. Dear God, he wanted to kiss her. Right here. Right now. In front of everyone.
“Dance with me,” he said, softly.
Addie nodded, tossing their empty bottles into a barrel. Twining her fingers with his, she let him lead her to the dance floor. She moved in close, but not too close. She didn’t lay her head on his shoulder or against him. Instead, she put an arm on his shoulder and leaned back to look at him. She smiled. “So, how many people are staring at us?”
He didn’t look around to find out. “Probably plenty. Most certainly your brothers. Does Addie Hawkins ever bring anyone home?”
“Nope. Not in a long time.”
“Then there’s even more than I thought giving me the eye.”
She laughed and let him pull her close, his hand settling in the small of her back. This felt so good. Right.
“At least I won’t embarrass us. I can do this step without your instruction,” he said.
“Good, then maybe I’ll let you lead.” This time she leaned in closer, her cheek against his shoulder. Her breath skimmed against his neck, sending heat to every nerve ending in his body.
For the first time in years, he felt alive. Awake. Ready to take a chance.
The song ended, and the up-tempo beat of the next song startled them both. For an instant, they stood there, staring at each other.
“Come on,” she said, though he didn’t hear it. He saw her lips form the words. She tilted her head away from the dance floor. She didn’t let go of his hand.
Outside the circle o
f light, the night quickly fell dark. Overhead, he could see the increasing number of stars.
Addie seemed to know where she was going, leading him along a well-worn path. He followed without question. And while the music still filled the distance, he heard other sounds. Crickets. A soft breeze in the grass. Their muffled footsteps. A short distance more, voices came out of the dark.
A few minutes later, they topped a ridge and looked down at a wide sandy area. Flames from a bonfire danced in the darkness. He made out some of the faces he’d met earlier, as well as several others.
“This is my favorite part,” Addie told him as she halted and he came to stand beside her. “This is where we all retreat after the work is done.”
“Addie’s bringing company,” a woman’s voice came from the darkness around the fire circle.
“DJ’s gotta behave now,” another woman said.
“Since when?” DJ’s voice held laughter.
In the firelight, Marcus saw her siblings—and the whole couple thing that was going on. Wyatt sat with his arm around a slim brunette. A blonde sat on the ground in front of the lawn chair DJ sat in. Two other couples sat together on a group of tree stumps.
“Where’s Jason and Lauren?” the brunette asked, looking up the path they’d just come down.
“Jason’s probably still trying to explain to her where we all disappeared to.”
“Jason isn’t explaining anything,” another man’s voice came out of the darkness. Jason and a tiny woman emerged out of the shadows—not from the path. Where had they come from?
“Please tell me I don’t have to remember everyone’s name.” Marcus leaned close to Addie.
“Professor,” she teased, “you know there’s always the possibility of a pop quiz.”
“Wonder what subject they’re studying,” DJ said, which got him a smack on the arm from the woman beside him.
“Okay, people. Enough.” Addie stepped forward, using the voice he recognized from her dealings with the kids at school. “Fork over the marshmallows.”
The activity broke up the speculation as everyone loaded big, fat marshmallows on long wires. “Here.” She handed him one. He stared at it. He’d heard about marshmallow roasts.
Addie watched him. “You’ve never done this before.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice.
“Nope.” He took the metal wire—was that an old hanger?—and did as the others did. He could learn.
“I think the boy can figure it out,” Wyatt said. “Sit down, Addie.”
Surprisingly, she did as her brother instructed, and Marcus was struck by shock. “How’d you do that?” he asked Wyatt before thinking.
Laughter circled the fire ring. “Lots of practice,” Wyatt admitted to more laughter.
Addie jumped up then. “Careful.” She took the metal wire from Marcus and yanked his flaming marshmallow out of the fire. She puckered her lips and blew out the flames. He could only stare. She was beautiful, her lips in just the right position...
“Good thing she likes the burned ones,” DJ offered.
“You eat them burned?” Marcus asked.
She looked at him then, and grinned. Their gazes locked and she slowly nodded. Opening her mouth, she took the whole marshmallow in between those luscious lips, her tongue licking the last of the white goo from the wire. She grinned and licked her lips—never once breaking the path of their gazes. “Yep.”
The silence fell around them like a heavy blanket. Memories of the last time they’d been together rushed in. He broke out in a sweat that he prayed everyone assumed was because of his proximity to the fire.
Addie froze, then looked around, and he’d bet her cheeks were flaming. She’d obviously forgotten everyone was there. She hadn’t forgotten the events in her living room.
Neither had he.
His ego enjoyed the fact that she was as affected by what was going on between them as he was. He just wasn’t sure where they went next.
The woman he was used to seemed so different here. Not bad—not weak—but different. Curiosity pushed him to save her.
“My turn.” He took the wire and loaded another marshmallow that he held over the flames. He focused on cooking the thing this time. The simple, normal actions brought everyone—except him—back to earth. The conversations resumed, and Addie smiled her thanks.
“Don’t let it burn.” She leaned against him. “Or we’ll be in serious trouble.”
He laughed with her, and the easy camaraderie returned.
“That boy of yours is a natural with horses,” DJ said a short while later. “They really took to him.”
Marcus nodded. “He’s never been around them before. Though I think that’s about to change.”
“Yeah, he even volunteered to help the boys rub them down and put them into their stalls for the night.”
Marcus smiled, proud of his son. “Maybe that’s why he wanted to come to Texas so badly.”
DJ nodded. “Can’t say as I blame him. The boys’ll make sure he’s back when the festivities wind down.”
“Thanks.” Marcus appreciated the way everyone watched out for each other here. Maybe Texas was the place for him and Ryan.
“Where are you from?” Wyatt’s wife asked.
“Chicago, by way of half a dozen military bases. My dad was career military.” He didn’t want to think about his past. He didn’t want to think about the world beyond this time and place.
“What made you leave?” Wyatt’s wife asked.
The all-too-familiar grief shot through him. Silence, broken only by the fire’s popping crack, stretched out. He looked at Addie. What had she told them? What did she want them to know? He shook his head. Secrets weren’t his style. “My wife passed away a couple years ago. Ryan and I needed to start a new life.”
The round of “I’m sorry” was heartfelt, but he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want his past to be a part of this. Addie was a part of his new life, his new beginning.
He didn’t miss the glances that were aimed at her. What were they thinking? Worrying that she was getting involved with someone who had issues? He didn’t owe them any explanations, but he didn’t like the idea of his situation causing a rift between her and her family. They were obviously very important to her.
Suddenly, Addie stood and extended her hand. “Walk with me.” He looked at her, seeing the firelight, and something else, reflected in her eyes. Pity? Pain? What? She blinked and the emotion was gone.
He stood. “Sure.” He’d never turn down an invitation to be alone with her. He faced the crowd. “Thanks for the marshmallows.”
Addie walked quickly, and he had to race to keep up. What about those questions had upset her?
“Addie?” He hurried, finally catching her and grabbing her arm. She halted but didn’t look at him. Finally, he cupped her chin in his palm.
He shifted to stand in front of her, and with little more than starlight and the wash of the moon, he was surprised by the pain in her eyes.
“Ah, babe.” He swept her into his arms, and the way she held on, held on tight, made him think of suits of armor and thick heavy swords. He’d slay dragons for her. He’d do anything to protect her. “What’s the matter?”
Addie stood on tiptoe, her lips hovering near his for an instant of indecision. He made the decision for her, kissing her hard. She tasted of marshmallow and root beer—and sweet, powerful woman.
And he was lost.
Her cry wasn’t one of protest, but there was pain in it. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispered just before stepping away. She hurried down the narrow strip of sand.
He cursed. And followed her.
* * *
ADDIE DIDN’T SLOW her hurried steps until she topped the next rise. How had she gotten here? She bent over slightly, taking tiny st
eps, pacing the edge of the dune, trying to catch her breath. She stared across the moonlight-washed hills—at the river rushing through its newly carved banks.
Last spring’s flooding had altered the river’s path. The wildfire the year before had done its own sculpting of the land. White moonlight glistened on the waves that the current created as the water headed toward the sea.
Somehow, the difference was a comfort. Mother Nature’s hand erased the part of the past that hurt the most.
From here, Addie could make out the shadowed arms of the old cottonwood that reached out over the waters. What was left of it.
It stood out scorched black even against the dark night sky, the remnants of the rope that had hung from the biggest branch over the water. Frayed. Charred, just as stark against the sky.
She could almost hear the echoes of childish voices, laughter, screams and howls of joy and fear at letting go of the rope. The thrill of the air rushing over bare skin. Flying through the bright blue Texas sky until finally hitting the cool water on a hot summer day.
She hadn’t been out here in years. Too many years. She’d purposefully not come here.
Something hurt. Inside. Deep inside. She felt ready to shatter.
The bonfire had unhinged the door of her memory. The glances from everyone were a silent reminder of the past. Didn’t they realize she needed to leave all that behind? The sadness in Marcus’s eyes had echoed inside her loud and painful. Reminding her of his pain, his loss.
Of everything that still stood between them.
“Damn you,” she yelled at the river. At the place she’d first met Cal, first loved him—where he’d drowned. “Damn you,” she whispered.
“Addie?” Marcus’s deep voice called from down the path. “Addie?” he called again. He was getting closer.
She’d left the fire, needing to get away from everyone but him. When he’d kissed her, she’d wanted nothing but him. But that level of want, that need, scared her.
Her brothers and sisters knew not to follow her when she was in a mood.