Brokenhearted Beauty [Divine Creek Ranch 19] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Heather Rainier

  Some people might find that to be a fun little adventure, but for her it was unsettling. She liked having navigation, knowing how many miles and how many minutes were between her and her destination. Even now, well outside of Divine, she was still giving herself a pep talk.

  “It’s an adventure. Yeah. Yahoo. You’re pathetic, girl. It’s a day trip, not an odyssey.”

  She pulled up to a four-way stop sign intersection and looked at the directional signs.

  “Time to make a choice, girl.”

  She fiddled with the satellite radio on her car, finding a good station. Bruno Mars’s “When I Was Your Man” fit her mood perfectly. There was no one besides her in the intersection but she still felt foolish for sitting there. The directional compass in her car’s information system caught her gaze. The road before her pointed in a Northeastern direction. If she kept the car pointed north for the rest of the trip, and kept off of the major highways as she’d already decided to do, she could meander in the general direction of Abilene and not waste too much gas.

  “You’re too practical, girl. Just go.”

  She had a full tank and the road before her. She fought the urge to reach for the map in her glove box. First thing in the morning would be soon enough to get navigation directions for the store in Abilene.

  As the miles passed, she kept finding herself clutching the steering wheel in a death grip. She’d shake out her tingling hands, give herself another pep talk and then repeat the process fifteen minutes later. She began to wonder if she was just a hopeless case, not cut out for taking chances, even little ones. She liked playing it safe and sticking with what was familiar.

  She chuckled at the thought, wondering where last night fit on the “risk-taking adventurer” scale. Spending the whole night hadn’t been her intention but by the time they’d finished, exhaustion, endorphins, and intense satisfaction had rendered her insensible.

  Vincent and James had far surpassed any sexy dream they’d ever starred in. But her painful reality had returned in a big way that morning. The lingering nightmare had been intensely vivid and made those first waking moments even more confusing. Next came the inevitable realization that it wasn’t a dream. It’d really happened. No matter how many times she begged Patterson to not go, he still died, and her heart broke all over again. To make matters worse, she’d upset Vincent without meaning to and James had been forced to mediate between them again. But even getting to the bottom of the misunderstanding hadn’t really smoothed the situation over, at least not with Vincent. She’d stood by her guns anyway.

  “Okay, so maybe I was also letting him know I’m not a pushover. Shoot me.”

  She needed to take this decision seriously. She was a woman of the new millennium, able to support herself and make her own choices without help, thank you very much.

  Despite his pushy jerk-facedness, she still smiled when she thought of Vincent and his brother.

  “At least they know what they want.”

  She pulled over in a tiny town and ate a late lunch at the Sonic Drive-In on their main thoroughfare, watching as big ranch trucks drove through town, hauling livestock and horses. Moms driving minivans full of kids pulled in to the shady drive-in for ice cream or other treats, and working people inhaled their food as quickly as possible and hurried along. Looking down at her sandwich, she realized she was doing the exact same thing. She took a deep, calming breath and tried to slow down.

  Colorful flags flapped in the stiff breeze and drew her eyes to an antique mall located across the highway. She hadn’t been antiquing since before her mom had passed away several years before. She missed her mom. They’d always had a good time together, no matter what they did.

  Mom had always admonished her to take time to slow down, to not always be so busy or the days would get away from her. She tapped her straw into the crushed ice in her cherry root beer and spied the maraschino cherry. With a smile and a bittersweet burst of nostalgia, she plucked it from the cup by its stem and pulled the cherry free with her teeth. The juicy fruit burst with sweetness and a hint of the soda as she ate it, recalling all the times her mother had allowed her to eat the cherries from her sodas and her sundaes.

  What would her mom think of her if she could see her today?

  She wouldn’t come out and say she was disappointed. She’d just shake her head and smile at me.

  With lunch finished, she backed from her parking spot at the Sonic and pulled across the highway. This was as good a place as any to mark time on her decision-making adventure.

  There was a lit sign in the front window, declaring the antique mall was open but there were only a couple of cars in the parking lot. Further inspection of the sign told her they would be open for several hours yet so she rubbed her hands together and set to browsing.

  The mall was actually a conglomeration of old farmhouses that had been purchased and pieced together in a seemingly random way so that a shopper could meander from one to the next. She giggled as she got herself lost several times. She’d never had a great sense of direction.

  Mom would love this place.

  Room after room was packed full of antique furniture, implements, decorations, glassware, china, dolls, and every other imaginable object. Nothing really jumped out at her for the longest time. She mainly just relived old memories of antiquing with her mom, recalling and recognizing items her mom would’ve liked. Then she spotted something on a shelf and was transported back many years.

  Her grandmother had given her mother a set of crystal serving dishes when Leah was very young. They probably hadn’t been all that expensive back then but they were pretty. A set of large serving bowls, platters, place settings, and a fancy candy dish with a fitted lid.

  Leah had loved that set of dishes, just as much as her mom had, and just as much as Presley Ann had. As with anything back when they were young, if Leah showed an interest in it, then Presley Ann had to have equal rights to it, too. Her mom had refereed many arguments over possessions and those dishes were no exception. Leah was certain Presley Ann would break them when she had one of her stupid tea parties and hated that her mom let her play with something so old and precious.

  They’d fought one day over the covered candy dish. Leah had wrestled it away from Presley Ann and in the process it slipped from her own hands and wound up shattered on the kitchen floor. She’d been furious with Presley Ann. If only she’d left them alone, it wouldn’t have happened. Shame nudged her because she’d been just as responsible for the breakage.

  Her mother had been saddened by the loss and over the years they’d looked and looked in antique stores, hoping to find that elusive covered candy dish. All the other pieces of crystal had survived but they’d never been able to replace the candy dish. When her mom had passed away, she’d received the entire set as part of her inheritance, with a note from her mom to persist, that the missing pieces were out there somewhere just waiting to be found.

  That same covered candy dish sat on a shelf in a corner of the antique store. Leah lifted the lid and checked it for chips and then examined the bottom half. Pristine condition. She giggled when she saw the price tag.

  And they don’t want an arm and a leg for it.

  She put it together carefully and held it to her, her eyes suddenly open to the possibilities. Maybe it had mates nearby. A nearby shopper looked up and smiled when she squealed with glee as she spotted an oblong platter in the same pattern that she hadn’t even known existed.

  Content with her finds, she went to the counter and the elderly lady behind the counter greeted her. Handling Leah’s purchases with great care, she wrapped them in layers of newspaper as she said, “Do you know…I think I saw a matching sugar bowl in this pattern. Would you care to see it? I think the vendor marked it down.”

  Feeling like her mom was smiling down at her and saying, “Now you’ve got the hang of it, sweetie,” Leah followed the proprietress to another room she hadn’t had time to explore.

  With a soft fingertip
weathered by time, the woman touched the lidded sugar dish. “My mother loved this pattern. It’d be a shame for you to get on your way without it, don’t you think?”

  Leah nodded and asked her to wrap it up, too.

  “Are you from this area?”

  “No, I’m headed north, to Abilene on business in the morning. May possibly be moving there. I haven’t decided yet. I’m just taking some time to relax in the area today.” Putting the thought into words revived that unsettled feeling from earlier.

  The lady nodded and smiled. “Well, I hope all the pieces come together for you, much like these missing pieces have found their way to you and your collection.” When Leah asked her about the little town and the surrounding area, she suggested a small park with a lovely overlook that was just a few miles off the main road and mentioned a bed-and-breakfast that was likely to have a vacancy that a friend of hers owned in the next town up the road.

  As she exited the store, carrying the box which was lined and stuffed with newspaper to cushion the pieces, Leah considered the matching set she had at home. It was all packed safely in bubble wrap and stored in a closet. Her mom’s antique china cabinet was in storage because she didn’t have room for it so she’d simply left the crystal packed up for some time in the undetermined future when she’d be able to display them. It struck her as a little sad that they were packed away, not being enjoyed. She could practically hear her mom chuckling and the thought made her smile.

  “I know, Mom, there’s a metaphor about my life there somewhere. Gotcha.” With a nod, she put the box in the trunk and murmured, “I was just waiting for the missing pieces.” Maybe if she rearranged her furniture she might have room in her apartment for that china cabinet. Then she sighed. It would be better to wait on that until she made a decision about moving. No point in displaying the crystal only to have to pack it up and move it. The idea was almost distasteful, even though she knew that wasn’t looking at the situation fairly.

  No matter how much she missed her mom, she couldn’t let her imaginings of her mother trying to communicate some deep truth to her from beyond the grave, nor could she allow furniture or possessions to influence her decision. It was silly. Of course her mom would want what was best for her.

  After starting the car, she turned up the air-conditioning and pulled out onto the two-lane road and continued on her way north, looking for the turnoff to the park the lady from the antique store had mentioned.

  She switched the satellite radio to a different channel and country music played softly in the car. Her thoughts gradually drifted to the night before and the way James and Vincent had touched her, and spoken to her. The way they’d made love to her. At times they’d been tender, and at other times rougher and more animalistic.

  Fucking. The word still made her blush, to think she’d used it the night before. They’d aroused her so much, not only with their sexual skills, but also with the way they’d spoken to her. She’d never been turned on by dirty talk before, had in fact found it laughable on the few occasions her past lovers had tried it. She wondered if she could become comfortable using such language and realized that she didn’t only wonder. There was also a kernel of hope mixed in with her speculation.

  James’s huskily spoken words came to mind. You’re perfect, honey. I’ve wanted to taste your sweet pussy for so long. Don’t deny me now.

  When they’d described how much they enjoyed looking at her body, how much they liked the way she tasted, it’d made her feel sexy, desirable, and powerful. Even when they used terms she’d always viewed as insults. “Pussy” hadn’t bothered her as much, but when Vincent had referred to that part of her as her cunt, she’d nearly reacted as if insulted, until she understood his use of the word was much like his use of the word fuck. He wasn’t being insulting. It was an intimate thing between just the three of them.

  Her thoughts then turned to her destination. It was unfair to arrive at a decision before she’d even seen the store she was considering taking over. She was putting the cart before the horse.

  Only two cars passed her the entire time she was on the park road, looking for a likely place to pull over and enjoy the view. She found a wide spot with a gentle slope that looked out over the vast Hill Country, with a lake in the distance.

  “Perfect.”

  She grabbed the thick wool blanket from her trunk and her cell phone and then locked her car and ventured into the trees, looking for a smooth spot where she could sit and relax for a bit. The tightness in her shoulders told her the relaxing part was going to be a challenge.

  After folding it to provide a comfortable cushion, she laid the blanket on the ground under the shade of an oak tree, and she sat, staring off at the hills. Under the partly cloudy sky the colors of the landscape changed constantly as the clouds flew by.

  A brief check of her cell phone told her that she didn’t have even a hint of a signal so she put it aside and lay back on the blanket. A caracara wheeled slowly overhead and she watched its lazy path until it was out of sight. Closing her eyes, she breathed deep hoping to quiet her mind as she whispered a prayer.

  She wondered if James had ever gotten her message and if Vincent was still hurt by her decision to go. An unsettled feeling entered her gut as she imagined his reaction if she decided to move.

  The tranquility of the area wasn’t helping much. All she saw every time she breathed deep and tried to get into a Zen frame of mind was the vulnerability in Vincent’s eyes when he’d said please come back right before he’d walked out of the kitchen. His eyes told her he wanted her to not only stay in Divine, he wanted her there with him and his brother.

  Letting out a frustrated breath, she muttered, “Well, one thing I can say. Depression has taken a back seat to confusion.”

  She gathered up her blanket and phone and got underway to the little bed-and-breakfast. The knots in her shoulders told her that her lame attempt at wanderlust had been a bust.

  * * * *

  Vincent tossed his sunglasses and keys on the table by the door, frustration burning his gut as James followed him in the front door, helping him carry in groceries. He’d had hell keeping his mind occupied during his day off, and the news James had just given him did nothing to improve his mood.

  He dropped the bag of dog food by the back door and set the bag containing the produce down on the counter a little harder than necessary. “Damn it. So much for fixing steaks and inviting her over.”

  James sighed, took the bag from him, and looked inside. “You trying to make spaghetti sauce out of those tomatoes? What’d they ever do to you? She needed time alone to think, Vince. It happens. If you have any hope of being in a relationship with her, coming to terms with that and reining in these impulses isn’t optional. Give her a little time and space.”

  James had always been the soft touch in their family. He seemed to understand Leah’s moods best of all of them…even when Patterson was still around. That thought led to another and he rounded on his brother. “You’ve talked to her since then, haven’t you?”

  James began removing items from the bags and putting them in the cabinets and the refrigerator. “Not the way you’re thinking. She phoned me this morning while I was on a dispatch call and left a message on voice mail. That’s how I knew her plans. I called and left a reply message for her since she’s not in a good cell coverage area.”

  “Figures she’d call you.”

  James rounded on him with the package of fresh steaks in his hand. “Maybe if you weren’t so damned bossy she’d have called you, too. Did you ever think of that?” He let out a long breath and then added. “She just needs space, Vince. You keep pushing and you’re liable to push her away. You manage to do that and you’re going to have a problem with me as well.”

  Vincent’s response was a deep growl as he slung the forty-pound bag of dog food on his shoulder and stomped out onto the back porch. He ripped the top tab off the bag and dumped it in the sealed container they kept the dog’s food in and then h
ollered, “Blue!”

  A distance bark sounded from the barn and then he heard the sound of Blue making double time as he scooped out food into his big bowl for him. Blue’s loping steps vibrated on the floorboards seconds before he crashed into Vincent.

  “Thought you’d have to go hunting, didn’t you, buddy?” Vincent asked as he gave Blue’s head a vigorous rub. Blue wiggled back and forth from head to toe as he gave him a good thorough back scratch and then he let him alone so he could eat.

  Blue woofed happily and started in on his bowl. The dog had too many breeds mixed in him to be certain but seemed to have quite a bit of Labrador and mastiff in him, with a bit of bloodhound mixed in, for good measure. Whatever he was, he’d adopted them as a stray puppy the year before and at well over one hundred pounds, he was rapidly eating them out of house and home.

  He looked out over the large backyard that sloped gradually to the river. He knew there was something to what James was telling him but it didn’t make the absence or the distance any easier to bear. He wanted her there. In their home. End of story.

  James came out and dumped charcoal into the grill and lit it to heat for the steaks. “You okay?”

  He jumped when cold hit his shoulder and saw the ice-cold bottle of beer, dripping with condensation that James held out to him before taking a seat in the porch swing. He took a deep drink and sighed as it created a cold path down his throat.

  “Yeah. Just disappointed.”

  “I know.”

  He stared at the deep-gold-colored liquid in the bottle and murmured, “This isn’t some little thing going on the last few months that I’m ready to have resolved. It’s been nearly three years. I’m ready to be thrown a fucking bone already.”

  James’s deep sigh drew his eyes and he knew he stuck his foot in his mouth yet again. “That’s what thinking with your dick will do for you, asshole. If that’s all you want, then I guess you got your bone last night. I want the whole feast.”