My Heart Lingers (A Hearts of Misty Mesa Story): BWWM Interracial Romance

by Brandi Boddie

  Cole opened his eyes and remembered he had the refrigerator door hanging wide open. He pushed it closed. “Kyra’s in Misty Mesa? I thought she left town years ago.”

  Ron shrugged. “So did I, but she’s back. We didn’t talk much. She had another store to go to and I had to head to the ranch before the ice cream melted.”

  Cole helped him put the buckets of rocky road and Neapolitan in the freezer. While his hands worked to put up the groceries, his mind was busy thinking about the girl he fell in love with in high school. She wasn’t a girl anymore. She was twenty-eight, three months younger than him. He remembered that little fact because he never forgot anything about her. Not the sound of her voice, the way she glided into a room, or the way her wavy ebony hair passed through his fingers.

  Maybe he ought to start trying to forget. She did hurt him, after all. It started right after high school graduation, when she abruptly and inexplicably became distant, making excuses to not be around him and “forgetting” to return his calls. She let him get on a plane and fly thousands of miles away before word got out that she was pregnant with their child. And once he did find out in an email from one of Kyra’s former classmates about the life she carried, Kyra had skipped town. Rumor had it she was no longer pregnant.

  Cole released a ragged sigh. He spent years trying to track her down, attempting to get answers, but he never could find her contact information on the internet or through their mutual high school friends. She didn’t tell anyone her whereabouts. He wondered how Kyra could keep her pregnancy a secret from him. What had she been thinking?

  So now Kyra was back in town. Curiosity made him ponder why she decided to return to Misty Mesa after being away for a decade. Her parents moved to Florida right after her father retired four years ago. Most of the friends she grew up with either left town or settled down with their own families. What reason could she possibly have for returning?

  Cole shook his head. It wasn’t any of his business. He didn’t need to go sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. Hadn’t Kyra made it very clear years ago that she didn’t want him in her life?

  “Look, I know you and Kyra had a really bad breakup after high school,” Ron voiced in a hesitant tone, after they finished putting the groceries away. “I just thought you should know why I was late getting back to the ranch.”

  “No, problem, Ron. Thanks for telling me.”

  Ron nodded. His hand passed uneasily behind his other ear this time. “So are you going to ride in the rodeo this Sunday?”

  “I haven’t decided. I need to train my new horse, get him used to being around crowds. I might ride him into town tomorrow morning.”

  “Tomorrow’s Saturday. You have up until the rodeo starts to register.”

  “I might enter the roping contest. Who knows? I could use a break from sitting behind a desk all week.” Cole decided then and there to do his best to put the matter of Kyra to rest. He had a lifestyle he enjoyed. He had a ranch and a youth center to take care of. Those things were in his power to love and protect. Kyra threw away everything he had to give her a long time ago.

  ***

  The next morning, Kyra got off the phone with her mother and started cleaning the house. Last night she picked up around the living room, but a professional cleaner was going to have to get the stale food smell out of the carpet. She scheduled for one to come early next week.

  Today she concentrated on the kitchen. She scrubbed hard to get the dried mud shoeprints from the floor. As she put elbow grease to the last one, her cell phone rang. It was the top senior partner from the firm in Chicago.

  “Kyra,” he said, “I have some bad news. I didn’t want to do this over the phone. I wanted to wait until you got back to tell you, but it looks like the firm has to restructure. As one of our junior associates, we have to let you go.”

  Kyra let the mop fall from her hands. It clattered against the kitchen sink before it fell to the floor. “You’re firing me? But why? I don’t understand.”

  The senior partner tried to sound calm and collected, but she could hear the strain in his voice on the other end. “You’re not being fired. That’s the wrong word. This was a decision the senior partners came to overnight. Our accountants went through the books and found that George spent the last several years committing tax fraud.”

  Kyra was shocked to hear the news. She and several other young attorneys worked beneath him as part of his legal team. “I had no idea.”

  “We know you didn’t. He hid everything, even from the rest of the senior partners.”

  “If you know I had nothing to do with it, then why are you letting me go?” She could hear the attorney sigh on the other end. She wanted to scream.

  “We’re a prestigious firm, and we want this to be handled swiftly and discreetly before news reaches the media. We hired a public relations specialist and an independent legal investigation team. They advised us that the best course of action is to disband George’s list of clients and reintegrate them among the senior partners.”

  Kyra cut through all the public relations spiel and political correctness to get to the heart of the matter. “What about those of us who worked on cases with him?”

  “You’re not the only one being released from the firm. I met with the other associates on your team this morning. They have twenty-four hours to clear their office space. All of you will receive severance pay and your contributions to the firm’s retirement fund will be returned with five percent interest. It’s the least we can do for your hard work.”

  The least they could do, indeed. The top senior partner talked like he was doing her a favor. Kyra felt like she was going to be sick. Just yesterday morning, she was at the law firm and everything seemed to be fine. Now her world had been yanked out from under her.

  “Are you still there, Kyra?”

  “I’m here,” she answered her boss in a hoarse voice. “You know I’m in Texas. I can see about getting a flight to Chicago today, but I don’t know if I’ll make the deadline.”

  “We had a moving service come in and clear your office space. Your belongings are being shipped to your home address as we speak. Good luck to you, Kyra.”

  She stood with the phone at her ear even though he ended the call. The firm already had her office supplies prepared to be sent to her apartment before they notified her. It was a clear, decisive, and cold action. They treated her and the other associates like criminals, although they weren’t the ones who committed tax fraud.

  Kyra was unable to think. She put the phone on the kitchen counter and picked up the mop. Her arm movements were jerky and awkward as she swept it across the floor. She gave up and dropped the mop into the water bucket. She couldn’t simply return to doing housework as though her last call had been a pesky telemarketer or a wrong number. She needed to get out of the house and clear her head. Maybe then she could figure out her next step.

  She went into her old bedroom where her suitcases were and unpacked her running shoes.

  ***

  Kyra never ran so far and so fast in her life. She started by jogging around her neighborhood. Then she switched to sprints. The asphalt road and concrete sidewalks soon gave way to the rural section of Misty Mesa. Kyra’s feet pounded in the dirt as she took off.

  Her initial shock at learning she had been fired turned into anger. She used it as fuel to power her legs and feet. Noon approached. The late morning sun was already threatening to bore a hole through her thin t-shirt and shorts, but she ignored the heat and kept running. The mesa landscape was quiet and rugged. All she heard was the sound of her own feet pounding the ground and her breath coming from her lungs in hard, rhythmic puffs.

  She shot past another runner and a bicyclist out for a leisurely ride. Next to the road, someone rode a horse across the flat expanse of land, but she didn’t pay horse and rider any mind. All she wanted to do was burn through her anger. She worked hard to get where she was in life. It was cruel how one measly phone call on a Saturday morning
could take it all away.

  What was up ahead on the road? Kyra lifted the brim of her baseball cap and spotted an adolescent boy walking a golden retriever. Though large, the dog looked like it was still a juvenile, unable to walk in a straight line as it pulled on its leash. The boy didn’t have a firm hold. The retriever tugged suddenly, and the leash flew from the boy’s hand. The dog bounded towards Kyra.

  She was in mid-sprint as the dog met her. Not wanting to get in the road, she turned abruptly on her left foot to avoid colliding into the canine. A sharp twinge of pain shot up her ankle. Her right foot upended a loose rock in the gravel. Kyra went tumbling to the ground.

  She heard the boy call to his dog. She didn’t know where it went. The force and angle of the fall made her momentarily dizzy. She closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, the horse and rider she saw earlier were coming towards her.

  As they got closer, she recognized the rider. It was Cole.

  Chapter 3

  Kyra moved to sit up as Cole approached her on his horse. Her baseball cap became displaced and fell over the top half of her face.

  “Don’t move, ma’am. You took a nasty fall.” She recognized the strong, calm tone of Cole’s voice. The years had matured it to a deep baritone.

  He called her ma’am. He didn’t recognize her beneath her cap. Kyra’s heart, already racing from her run and subsequent fall, beat even faster as she lifted her cap and watched Cole dismount from his mahogany horse. Dressed in a plaid shirt, jeans, cowboy boots, and hat, he hurried to her side. “My ankle hurts a bit, but I think I’m okay,” she told him.

  His paused before he crouched down beside her. “Kyra?” He lifted the brim of his gray Stetson to gaze at her with his deep blue eyes. She thought she’d never stare into them so closely again. Like his voice, the years matured his face. His handsome features possessed the strong angles of manhood. The faint shadow of stubble lined his jaw and chin.

  “It’s me,” she answered. “How are you, Cole?” Her greeting felt stilted and strange, considering she was sitting on the ground beside a dirt road after taking a tumble.

  “Which ankle is it?” He focused on her injury instead of her question.

  “My left.” She moved it without too much pain. Thank God it wasn’t broken. Now that she was booted out of the law firm, her health insurance was probably scrapped, too. “I might be able to stand on it.”

  “You’re not going to. I’m taking you to the ER.”

  At that moment, the boy returned with the golden retriever. He had the dog’s leash wrapped securely around his wrist this time. “I’m really sorry about my dog. Is she alright?”

  Kyra nodded, even though he addressed Cole, whose long, lean-muscled frame made him appear to be the authority figure to the adolescent. “I tweaked my ankle when I turned to get out of the way, but I’ll be fine.”

  Cole cast a doubtful glance at her after the boy continued on his way. “You don’t know if your ankle is fine.” He reached down and gently made contact with the area using three fingers. His touch was careful and only examining, but Kyra felt a sudden heat rush into her skin. She held her breath until he withdrew.

  “I’ve sprained my ankle running before.” She managed to get the words out between her lips. “This is very minor in comparison. All I need to do is go home and put a little ice on it.”

  He supported her back with his arm while his other arm slipped beneath her legs. He stood up with her in a smooth, careful motion. “Where are you staying in town?”

  “At my old place. Do you remember where my parents and I used to live?”

  “It’s about six miles from here. I’ll drive you. My truck’s farther up the road.”

  Kyra looped her arm around his neck as he carried her to his horse, which patiently grazed on a patch of grass while waiting for his master. “We’re riding the horse to get to your truck?”

  A small laugh rumbled in his throat. “My truck is parked two miles from here. Why not use the good old-fashioned transportation at our disposal?”

  Kyra hadn’t been on a horse since she was in high school. Cole had given her an initial horseback riding lesson when she first visited his family’s ranch. She remembered the uncertain looks on his parents’ faces as they watched him help her mount a young mare. She was apprehensive then, and felt that way again now as he helped her in the saddle. Then he climbed up behind her, reaching around her waist to grab the reins with both hands.

  Kyra sat straight as a board. Cole was so close to her. His body heat transferred from his torso through her thin t-shirt. There was no way she could avoid their bodies touching while they shared a saddle. The horse moved forward, and the motion caused her to fall back against Cole. The solid muscles of his stomach tensed at the contact.

  “What were you doing running on a rural road?” he asked. “There are sidewalks, the high school track, and a park with a jogging trail downtown.”

  “I needed some physical activity after this morning. I didn’t know I would get this far.”

  “You must’ve really wanted to run,” he remarked. His mouth was close to her ear. The proximity and his relaxed Texan drawl brought back memories of a simpler time in her life, of young love and innocence. She had the odd urge to turn her head and tilt her lips to his for a kiss. She resisted the urge and remained with her face forward.

  “You might say I needed to clear my head. I had a rough morning.” Maybe the bad news of losing her job made her want to act impulsively. Yes, that must be it.

  Cole didn’t say more. He tugged the horse’s reins to make the animal turn right once they reached a four-way stop. The dirt road was empty. The bicyclist, jogger, and the adolescent with the rambunctious golden retriever moved on.

  They soon came to a Ford pickup with attached horse trailer parked in a half-filled lot next to a trailhead. Kyra was surprised to see the paved parking lot. “This wasn’t here last time I was in town.”

  Cole made the horse stop within several feet of the truck. “Misty Mesa’s rebuilding its economy. Throughout the year, the town hosts small clusters of tourists eager to get outdoors and hike, bike, or horseback ride through the nature trails.”

  “That explains why I saw more shops and restaurants on Main Street when I drove in yesterday. It’s good to see local business thriving again.”

  “Yeah, though I can’t say the same for all of them.” Cole dismounted and assisted Kyra from the saddle. She held onto him as he carried her to the passenger side of the truck. She didn’t think it was necessary. Her ankle hurt a little bit, but it wasn’t red or swollen.

  “Like what businesses?” she asked once he set her down on the seat.

  “A couple of shady law firms hung out their shingles in the past three years. They’ve been taking advantage of people. I’ll be right back after I get my horse in the trailer.” Cole turned the AC on for her before he left to tend to the animal.

  Kyra leaned her head back while the cool air washed over her flushed body. She was hot from a dual combination of sources: working out in the midday heat and being propped against Cole for the entire horseback ride. She knew it was the latter that affected her the most.

  She looked around the truck. The truck was a combination of both class and ruggedness. Even though the vehicle was made for utilitarian purposes, it came equipped with subtle luxuries. The seats could be heated and cooled. The dash had an LCD screen for the GPS navigation system and mobile office. She spotted a charging dock between the seats for cell phones and laptops.

  She heard the door to the horse trailer close. Cole then opened the door to the truck and climbed in seconds later. “Cyclone’s secured. I rode him downtown this morning so he could get used to crowds. I hope to ride him in the rodeo in the near future.”

  “If I’d known the horse’s name, I really would have insisted you help me hobble along to your truck.”

  Cole flashed a white smile, causing Kyra to become warm again. “Don’t let his name scare you. He’s o
nly high-spirited and skittish when he gets around a big group of people.” He fastened his seatbelt and put the truck in reverse. “Let’s get you home and off that ankle.”

  Ten minutes later, the truck pulled up to the driveway of Kyra’s old house. Cole got out and went to open the passenger door for Kyra. This time, she stopped him from lifting her in his arms. “I can walk inside. Just help me balance my weight.”

  He grudgingly allowed her to hobble up the driveway and to the front door, supporting her by the waist. He viewed the porch swing dangling lopsided by its chain. “What happened here?”

  “My parents have been leasing the house since they retired to Florida. The last tenants weren’t exactly the best with housekeeping and maintenance.” Kyra reached into her sock for the key. “Consider it your warning before you see the inside. I haven’t had a chance to clean it all yet.”

  She opened the front door. At least this time, she came into a better-smelling abode. The cinnamon apple scent of the plug-in air freshener she put in before she left kicked in big time. She hardly detected the food smells in the living room. “I’d offer you a cushiony seat, but all I have is a metal folding chair I found in the hall closet.”

  “Where are you sleeping? It’s better for you to stretch out and keep your leg elevated for a while.”

  “In the room at the end of the hall, on the right.” She pointed to the hall leading to the set of three bedrooms. One was the master bedroom, the middle room was where her father once kept his home office, and the last one was her old room. Out of habit, she decided to sleep in her childhood bedroom the night before. She purchased an air mattress at the hardware store yesterday.

  Cole led her to the full-size air mattress. The sheets and blanket were still rumpled from where she got up in the morning and didn’t make the bed. She smiled apologetically to him as he settled her onto the mattress. “Don’t mind the mess. It isn’t nearly as bad as what the tenants left for me to clean.”