In It to Win It

by Morgan Kearns

  “I heard that,” he said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for the funerals. It was during the season and I was on the road.”

  “I know,” she said. It had been the only way she’d been comfortable enough to come to the funerals.

  “Tell me more about them,” he prompted.

  They sat on the frost-covered ground and Jane told story after story of her grandparents. She laughed as she spoke. Her heart felt lighter, she felt lighter. They weren’t touching but Jane had never felt closer to a person in her life. She stood, surprising him, and took his hand.

  “Come on, I wanna show you the rest of my family tree.”

  She led him through the cemetery, telling him the stories she’d heard from the time she could walk the circuit of stones. “Grandma Annie was supposed to marry someone else, but she ran off and married Grandpa Caleb as soon as she turned sixteen. Can you imagine?” She turned to him, her hands planted on his chest. “I was so not ready for marriage at sixteen. I guess they did things differently back then. Anyways, Grandma Annie and Grandpa Caleb took his horse—which was about all he owned—and went to City Hall in Gunnison and got married. Their parents were pissed. In fact, hers disowned her.”

  “And his?”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t pretty. I do know that they weren’t exactly thrilled, but eventually they accepted the marriage and helped them. Caleb’s father gave him a corner of the family farm and told him that now he had a wife and needed to provide for her. They worked hard … and made it.”

  Grayson nodded, his eyes intense when he looked her full in the face. “Marriage is hard work.”

  “Yes, but it’s easier when you have the kind of love they had. My family is known for fighting for true love, Grayson. I come from a long line of happily-ever-after.”

  The corners of his lips lifted and he kissed her lightly. “I wouldn’t ask you to settle for anything else.”

  12

  WHEN JANE WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING all she could think of was the events of the last few days. She’d gone from hating Grayson—or pretending to hate him—to acknowledging that she’d never stopped loving him and never would. She was adult enough to admit her feelings to herself, but there was still too much water under the bridge to voice them to him. She still wasn’t sure she could trust him, especially with her heart.

  She stretched and sighed. She felt light as a feather. The smile on her face grew until her cheeks hurt. She peeled back the blankets and started to get ready for the day. All the while remembering…

  Last night after they’d come home from their adventures, they’d had a quick dinner and then settled into the recliners to watch some TV. She’d been surprised when he tossed her the remote.

  “Pay-per-view channels are in the one-hundreds. Pick out a movie.”

  “You’re pretty brave.”

  “Hey, I’m not such a guy that I can’t do a chick-flick once in a while.”

  But Grayson was a guy, a very, very handsome guy, who did very dangerous things to her heart. She flipped through her choices and clicked on a horror movie. She hated horror movies. They scared the bejeezus out of her. The movie started and her heart matched the thump, thump, thump of the theme music.

  Two minutes into the movie the scary dude jumped out with his chainsaw and Jane shrieked, jumped, and popcorn fell from the sky like snow.

  Grayson chuckled and reached over, pulling her into his arms, into his lap. “Come here, baby, I’ll protect you.”

  She didn’t doubt that he would protect her from monsters and things that went bump in the night, but could he protect her from … him?

  Another roar of the chainsaw and Jane opened her eyes to discover she was fully entwined in Grayson’s lap. Her fingers gripped his shirt. His arms held her firmly against the strength of his body. With her head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart was a comfort and her eyes drifted closed.

  She’d awoken to the gentle jostling as he stood. She shifted, expecting him to set her down. Instead he’d cradled her closer to him and murmured in her ear, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  Once her head was on the pillow, he pulled the covers up over her and kissed her softly, chastely on the mouth. “Good night, baby. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  It felt like they were a married couple, except that she still slept in the guest room. He didn’t offer to change that fact, and Jane wasn’t sure how she’d react if he did.

  Was that what his game was? To make sure she was so hot for him that when he offered to slake her need, she’d jump at the chance.

  Well, Jane would not jump. No matter how hot she was, she promised herself she would not make that jump.

  Not that she was delusional.

  Grayson would never let things get that far.

  She was just coming out of the shower when a knock on the door made her jump and cross her arms over her bare breasts. Thankfully the door stayed closed, but Grayson’s voice did come through it.

  “Dress warm, baby. We’re gonna be outside most of today.”

  “Okay,” she yelled back, allowing her arms to drop only when she heard his footsteps on the stairs.

  She dressed quickly—and warmly—and met Grayson in the kitchen. It was rich with the smell of breakfast. As she rounded the corner the kettle squealed. Freshly squeezed orange juice sat in a pitcher on the island, as did two bowls, two spoons and two glasses.

  Grayson smiled when he saw her. “Did you sleep well?”

  “I did. Did you?”

  Something flashed in his eyes; desire, regret? He nodded. He poured some water into a larger bowl and began to stir, slow at first, then quickly.

  “I did. Are you hungry?”

  He was on the other side of the island from her, wearing his ‘kiss the cook’ apron. She sat on a stool and put her feet on the footrest. He took her bowl and scooped some Cream of Wheat into it. She fought the cringe and smoothed out her expression when she felt her nose wrinkling. She hated Cream of Wheat. Her mother had made her choke it down when she’d been a kid. It was like eating paste.

  Yes, she had eaten paste in kindergarten. To be honest, the paste had more flavor.

  Grayson put one bowl in front of Jane and one in front of the stool next to her. He came around the counter and sat down. He started shoveling the food into his mouth. He paused, spoon midair.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, fine.” She braced herself and lifted her own spoon to her mouth. Her gag reflex was already preparing to purge the food from her system. She slipped the spoon between her lips, swallowed and … sighed in bliss. “What did you do to this?”

  His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s good. I mean, really good. What did you do to it?”

  He laughed and took a big bite. “A little butter … and sugar. Lots and lots of sugar.”

  After her first spoonful, Jane didn’t speak again until the spoon scraped the bottom of the empty bowl. “That was delicious.”

  “Thank you.” Grayson winked and pointed to his apron.

  She leaned across and kissed him on the cheek. “My compliments to the chef.”

  They made quick work of the dishes and she followed Grayson to the front door. Grayson put a vest over his long-sleeved flannel shirt and tucked a jacket under his arm. Jane put on her coat, but didn’t zip it up. They were both wearing winter boots and Grayson put a scarf around Jane’s neck, using it to pull her into a quick kiss.

  She liked the familiarity they’d developed. But it scared her to death.

  Before she could dwell on it for long, she was being led out the front door. Stepping outside caused Jane to pause. Instead of Grayson’s Jeep waiting to whisk her away to destinations unknown, an enormous gray Dodge Ram was attached to a horse trailer with matching paint job.

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise,” he told her. “And we have to do it today because a big storm is blowing in tonight.” It wasn’t the tone of his voice that
made her skeptical; it was the wide grin on his face. He hadn’t shaved this morning and the dark stubble along his jaw made his already breathtakingly handsome face heartbreakingly gorgeous. She wanted to feel the rough rasp of his whiskers against her hands, her lips … every inch of her body.

  She shook her head and climbed into the big truck. It had a bench seat. She imagined herself sliding over and sitting right next to Grayson, his arm behind her as they cruised through town.

  Maybe she was delusional.

  Neither of them said much—probably because Jane was too lost in her disturbing imagination—as they drove up Willow Crick Canyon. It’d been a long time since she’d heard creek pronounced crick, even longer since she’d been up the canyon. Grayson drove as far as the snow would allow, then unloaded the horses.

  Jane got on a chestnut colored mare. Grayson fixed some padded chaps around her legs. “There are warmers in these. You should be nice and toasty. Let me know if they get too hot.” He tugged at the one on the other side. “I have something up the canyon that I really want to show you. But you give the word and we’ll turn around, okay?”

  She nodded, even more curious than she was before. As Grayson got on his horse, Jane patted the neck on her own horse and asked, “What’s her name?”

  “Georgie,” he said with a shrug. “That was her name when I got her. She’s a good horse, really gentle.”

  “And his?” she asked, motioning toward the buckskin horse with his black mane and tail that carried Grayson.

  “This is Zeus. And he can be every bit as ornery as the dude he’s named after.” He patted Zeus on the neck and clucked, putting his heels into the horse’s flanks and headed out.

  Grayson was right; she was toasty warm with her padded chaps and parka. He’d given her a black hat that matched his. She wondered how many he had in his stash of winter clothing. She was just about to ask when he stopped. She’d been alone with her thoughts, asking a question here or there, for the most part of the ride. She hadn’t even realized that nearly an hour had passed.

  He dropped from his horse and walked over to help her. It had been a mild winter and the snow only came halfway up her calf. He tossed the reins over a branch and took Jane’s hand in his. He led her through a maze of trees. “It’s right over here.”

  She loved these trees; quakies, they were called by Utahans. Aspens, the rest of the world called them. They were known for their white trunks and vibrant green leaves that snapped with the breeze. She missed that sound now.

  In winter, the branches were bare, stretching toward the sky like skeletal claws. The trees were also used as a form of graffiti. Lovers ventured up the canyon to carve their initials in the white bark that turned black, making the words stand out.

  One held the mark “K.H. + S.K.R. ‘70”. Another said “Tim + Kris 4ever”.

  “This way.” His grip tightened on her hand. He was walking like he knew exactly where he was going. And in fact he did. “Close your eyes,” he said, stopping suddenly. She did and then his gloved hand covered them. “I’ve gotcha. Right this way.”

  He helped her as she shuffled around to where he wanted her, holding her up when she stumbled over something. She heard him take a deep breath and felt it, damp and warm, on the back of her neck as he exhaled.

  “This is it.”

  Whether he spoke to her or himself, she couldn’t be sure. His fingers dug into her arms through her coat. He took a step closer to her and his front met her back. She sensed his nervous tension; it almost crackled in the air around them. His anxiety made hers spike to a nearly nuclear level.

  His lips brushed her ear. “I’ve always wanted to be honest with you. The time has finally come to do just that.”

  She swallowed hard, but the knot in her throat made it hard to breathe. Did she really want the truth out of Grayson? She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear that he didn’t find her attractive. Or that he’d asked her to prom to humiliate her in front of their classmates.

  On second thought, she didn’t want to know.

  She was just about to explode when he took his hand away and whispered, “Open your eyes, baby.”

  She wanted to—and at the same time, she really didn’t.

  What if this was bad? She was good at the whole ostrich impression.

  Her fight-or-flight instinct raged. And right now, as she stood with Grayson at her back, she wanted to run. Run away from him. Away from this sick game he was playing. Away from the heartbreak that was going to devastate her at any moment.

  “It’s okay, Janie. I promise. It’s okay.”

  She wasn’t sure whether it was his heartbeat or her own that was erratically pounding away. Actually, as his arms reached around to pull her back to his front, she realized it was both of their hearts, thudding in worried unison.

  But why was he worried?

  She slowly, hesitantly opened one eye … then the other. She meant to look up at him in question, but couldn’t make her gaze move from the sight before her. There, on the tree in front of her, were words she couldn’t wrap her mind around.

  “Grayson loves Jane”

  Grayson loves Jane?

  Grayson loves Jane! Those three words were from a fantasy. This couldn’t be reality. She even reached up to pinch herself—and it hurt.

  She wondered where the punch-line was. Where was the audience who was going to, at any moment, jump out and point and laugh as Grayson reneged on this declaration?

  She wrenched herself out of his hold and glared up at him. His chocolate eyes studied her as her hands made their way to her hips and her feet parted to stand in defiance. She hoped she looked formidable, because inside she felt … broken.

  “I’m out of here!” She stalked passed him, making sure to ram her shoulder into him. It hurt—not that she’d give him the satisfaction of rubbing it—and hoped that it hurt him too. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re—”

  In a flash she was no longer walking. She was suddenly airborne, twisting and turning in midair. The flight instinct turned to fight in an instant. She squirmed and slapped and punched and…

  It wasn’t until Grayson kissed her that she stopped. She didn’t want to fight that. She wanted to get lost in him.

  Suddenly, he dropped her to her feet, still holding her close. She could feel every inch of him through the many layers of clothing that covered them both. He kissed her lips, her forehead, her eyes, her tear-streaked cheeks. Once again he led her to the tree—their tree.

  “Look, Jane.” From behind her, he reached out and traced the characters encased by a heart. “You keep accusing me of playing a game. I’m not playing, sweetheart. I’ve never been playing. Look at the letters.”

  She did look, with her eyes and with her fingers. She traced over the letters, noting how they were a dark black among the stark white. Every swipe of her fingers seemed to carve the letters into her heart. Her vision blurred and her nose began to run. She sniffed.

  “When…?” she asked.

  It hadn’t been recently. The tree couldn’t lie. New carvings were thin lines that grew wider and darker as time went by. The words Grayson loves Jane were almost an eighth of an inch wide and black as night.

  Her fingers trembled as she traced over the letters again. “When … did you…?” She turned to face him, wanting to see his face when he answered her next question. “Was this somebody’s idea of a joke?”

  He tugged his glove off and shoved it into his pocket. His fingers were warm as they stroked the side of her face from temple to chin.

  “No joke. Senior year, I carved this the week before prom. I planned on showing you then, but you cancelled and I…” His voice broke and he cleared his throat. “Why did you cancel on me, Janie?”

  His eyes were glossy and full of such unashamed honesty that caused her own to sting anew. She leaned into his gentle touch and decided on the truth. “I heard you, Grayson. I heard the real reason you asked me to prom.”

  His brows pinched and he
shook his head. “The real reason? I don’t understand. This—” He waved at the tree. “—is the real reason. I have been in love—”

  She stopped him by putting her fingers to his lips. “You lost a bet, Grayson. I heard you admit that you asked me … because you lost a bet.” Her voice wobbled and her cheeks turned into miniature riverbeds.

  “Jane, I don’t know what you heard.” When she opened her mouth to argue with him, he held up a hand to silence her and continued. “I don’t doubt that you heard what you think you heard. Nor do I doubt I was stupid enough to say something like that, not knowing that you were in earshot. I was too chicken to admit to anyone how much I loved you … because I didn’t know how you felt about me. But it’s true. I loved you then. I love you now. And I’ve loved you for all the years in between.”

  She took another look at the declaration carved for the world to see and turned to look at him, defiant. “Prove it.”

  Did he ever!

  He kissed her hard on the mouth. It was almost a punishment in its intensity. His arms shifted around her and pulled her tight against him. His hands moved down until they cupped her rear and fitted her against his groin. There was no mistaking his reaction to her and it seemed that that was the way he wanted it. He was proving his attraction to her. But love?

  “I love you,” he whispered, spreading kisses to the tender skin below her ear. “I love you,” he repeated, nudging her collar away from her neck with his cold nose. “I love you,” he shouted, sending critters scurrying for cover.

  She giggled, her entire body melting against him. There was nothing she wanted more right now than to feel those hot mind-bending kisses all over her body.

  “Let’s go home, love.” He shook his head and chuckled softly. “I have wanted to call you that for so long. Man! It feels good to know that you know how I feel about you.” He stopped abruptly and took hold of her upper arms, his hands firm even through the fluff of her coat. “Please tell me you feel something for me. If you don’t love me yet, I’m willing to help you see the light.”