Pride in what she’d done over the past year filled in the hole that doubt had created. This was it.
Standing before her, Eric was validating everything she was doing. There hadn’t been a morning in the past few years where she hadn’t awakened feeling as though she’d lost track of who she was and where she was going. But now, just with his few simple words, she realized she had become who she’d sought out to be. She was independent. She was successful. And now with Eric standing before her with his hands on her hips and limp tulips in her hand, she knew she’d moved on from the failure she thought she was.
If she was to ever fall in love again, he was the man worth falling in love with. There was simply no more doubt. Though doubt still resided in her. Saying she’d love him was something she’d need to evaluate much further. After all, she’d only met him, but it just felt so right.
Susan raised her arms around his neck and plunged them both into a kiss that had them clinging to each other as if every breath after that depended on that moment. The friction between them heated her throughout. Every moment his lips pressed to hers was another moment that she tumbled into a bliss she never thought she’d have again.
When they parted breathless, Eric pressed his forehead to hers. “We’d better go get breakfast. My mind is spinning in directions I hadn’t planned on going yet and I still have a full day ahead of me.”
Susan laughed a deep throaty laugh. “Me too. I have a very important meeting today and class tonight. But…” She looked up into his eyes. “If your mind is spinning where mine is, I think that’s something we’d better think about.”
The dimple in his cheek was back. “Thank God you’re not some prude. I’m a man after all. Being a full fledged gentleman might kill me.”
Susan cupped his cheek in her hand. “I don’t want that to be on my conscience.”
Chapter Fourteen
Breakfast had been simple at a diner she’d been to once or twice. Eric was the kind of man who enjoyed his breakfast meats and had them all on one plate. She preferred a lighter fare.
He was also a man, she quickly realized, who didn’t like being in public. There was a comfort with him in his house or hers, but when faced with scrutinizing eyes he seemed to become quiet and reserved.
It didn’t take a genius to realize that a man who lived away from town liked it that way. She’d seen him yesterday morning moving in to take care of his horses. There was peace with him. Over breakfast, however, he’d looked as if he were the cattle being sent to slaughter.
As soon as he could, he paid the check and they left the diner. He didn’t mention that anything was wrong and Susan didn’t ask, but she studied him. The closer they got to her house, the softer his tense shoulders became. And when he kissed her goodbye with her back pressed against the front door, she knew there wasn’t anything wrong with that man that twisted her insides. But there was a story there, she decided as she watched him drive away. Perhaps he’d share it with her in time. After all, he’d seemed to be the one talking relationships. Maybe it was his way of telling her he trusted her with whatever was in his soul.
Susan looked down at her watch. She had her phone meeting with Lydia Morgan in an hour. As she walked toward her desk, her mind switched from the giddy, tingly feeling that new romance offered to the solid-minded businesswoman that had been the core of who she was for so long. After having met Lydia Morgan last night, Susan was sure that this could be a very big account to have. It would be best if she kept her mind about her.
An hour later, with the phone ringing in her hand, Susan took a deep breath and waited for Lydia Morgan to answer. On the fifth ring she finally did.
“Good morning, Ms. Hayes,” Lydia’s voice was steady and sure on the other end of the line. “Thank you for calling.”
Susan, a bit dismayed by not having a simple hello, put a smile on her lips with hopes that it would convey through the phone.
“Ms. Morgan,” she coolly offered the salutation. “My pleasure. I have sent you an email with my options and prices on them. Did you receive that?”
“Just now. Thank you. I will show this to my grandfather and let him decide.” There was a moment of silence before Lydia spoke again. “Ms. Hayes…”
“Please call me Susan,” she said still managing that smile that was supposed to resonate in her voice.
“My grandfather would not approve of that, Ms. Hayes,” she began again, “my grandfather asks that our working together be held in the strictest of confidence. He would like your word that you will not mention the job or whom it is for.”
Susan’s shoulders dropped. This was beginning to sound like a bad Craig’s List ad.
“That’s not a problem, Ms. Morgan. I understand confidentiality.”
“Good. He also asks that you not bring your new server, Ms. Waterbury.”
The smile faded quickly. “May I ask why? She’s very personable and extremely efficient.”
“Yes, I met her last night and I agree. Those are his wishes.”
She didn’t like this one bit. The Morgans were going to have to spend a hefty amount of money if she wasn’t to use her staff member or talk about them using her services.
“Understood. Do you have a date in mind for the event?”
“February sixteenth. Seven p.m. sharp.”
Susan bit down on her lip. That was a night she’d have class. She wasn’t going to turn the job away yet. There was something intriguing about the secretive way Lydia approached everything. She’d let the money talk for her. If the payday was going to be worth it, she’d miss class and leave Bethany behind. If they argued price, she’d pass on the job.
“I will put that on the calendar. Ms. Morgan, I’d like to follow up with you on Monday and discuss your menu choices and the cost of the event.”
“That will be fine.”
They set up a time, said their goodbyes, and Susan rested back in her chair.
Lydia Morgan wasn’t as old as she’d sounded on the phone. She did come across as a bit dry in her personality, but Susan didn’t buy into it. When she thought about it a bit more, she could see a lot of herself in Lydia. When Susan was married, she simply wasn’t the person she was now. She watched her words and her mannerisms as if she were afraid to show herself. Her husband had his expectations of how his wife should act and she’d fallen right into the role.
It wasn’t fair really to pin it all on Bret, her ex-husband. She’d allowed herself to be what he wanted her to be. She just hadn’t realized, until ten years later, that it was killing her inside.
Was that Lydia’s story too? Did her grandfather expect her to behave and present herself in such a dormant way?
Susan tapped her pen to her chin. She was going to friend Lydia Morgan.
The smile formed back on her lips, this time honestly.
The mystery intrigued her now. Who was Lydia Morgan under all the manners?
~*~
Eric gripped the steering wheel of his truck tightly as he bounced down the dirt road leading to his house. A bead of sweat trickled down his neck and he wiped it away with the palm of his hand.
What was he doing starting something up with some woman? He had a lot on his plate. Right now wasn’t the time to lose focus by mixing in some boyish crush with the thought he might get sex. But he knew it was more than that. If he’d only wanted to be physical with someone, he had options. This was deeper. Susan was different.
Eric rolled his shoulders back and tried to ease the pinch between them. The conversation he’d had with his father yesterday over his uncle’s gambling addiction pressed its way into his mind as his house came into view. They all sought to lose if Elias Morgan took over the property. He wondered how his cousins Jake, Todd, Pearl, and Audrey felt about their father’s betrayal. Poor Bethany was so disconnected to all of it he wondered why she’d even stayed the few days she had. But then he realized she and Susan were kindred souls. They were both looking for something new and they’d found that in th
e strangest of places—his grandfather’s funeral.
Regardless of what happened to his home, this was a turning point for his family. Eric vowed at that moment, to himself, that he’d take care of Bethany. It was obvious her father wasn’t going to make her part of the family. A wave of disappointment washed over him when he realized that her brothers and sisters didn’t seem to be making advances there either.
He still had a good mind to talk to Elias Morgan, with or without Smith and Wesson. However, he’d give it a few days and let his father and his lawyers continue to work on it a bit. Then he’d move in.
Eric knew he could build a house somewhere else. Georgia was big enough. Hell, if things worked out, he could move in with Susan—though the thought of city life left a vile taste in his mouth. But there were options. The one thing he wasn’t going to let happen was the dismantling of his family.
It hadn’t gone unnoticed to him that his father was looking worn down and weak. His brothers seemed to be on edge and he’d be damned if they ever moved his mother from the cemetery in which she rested. The Walkers were not going to be torn apart just because Byron was an idiot.
As Eric pulled up to his house, he had a sense of rejuvenation. The Walkers weren’t going down without a fight.
Eric stepped out of the truck just as Dane ran around the side of the house from the barn.
“Whisky River,” was all he said on a raspy breath from running.
Nothing more needed to be said. Eric ran toward the barn as quickly as he could with a panicked jolt running through his chest.
When they arrived, Whiskey River was lying still, on his side. His breathing was labored.
“What happened to him?” Eric knelt down next to him, brushing his coat with his hand.
“I don’t know. I came out here looking for you and I found him this way. He looks really sick.”
“No, shit!” Eric ran his hand over the horse’s body looking for traces of a bite or a cut. “Get on the phone. Call Dr. Parks. Tell him it’s an emergency.”
Dane nodded and ran for the office.
Eric sat down next to Whisky River’s head and ran his hand down his nose. “C’mon, ole man. Hold on there. We’ll get you fixed.”
He pressed his head to the horse’s and a tear fell from his eye. Nothing had been as precious to him over the years as the horse, which lay next to him, struggling to breathe. How sad was he to have only had a relationship with a horse? But that’s what it was. They’d built his business together, he and his trusty horse. He couldn’t lose him now.
Eric was aware of the other horses in the barn. There was restlessness among them. Something had set them off, he thought. Was it more than Whiskey River falling sick?
He gave the horse another pat and stood to survey the stalls. Each horse was there, but they neighed and moved between their walls as if they had something to say.
There was a huge responsibility to him to keep the other horses calm and safe. They were his business.
Dane ran out of the office. “He’s on his way.”
“Check out that mare on the end. Raven Wing. Make sure she’s calm.”
Dane gave him a nod and ran toward the horse, which reared up on her hind legs just as Dane reached her. Her front hooves caught him on the jaw knocking him back into the wall of the barn.
Eric ran toward the horse, grabbing a rope off the wall as he passed. The horse spun circles in her stall as Eric approached. Her eyes were wild and a moment later she too collapsed onto her side.
“What the hell?” Eric moved in, dropped the rope, and touched the horse. She too labored at her breathing.
The groan behind him reminded him that his brother was hurt. He turned to see Dane on his hands and knees, blood pouring from his chin.
“Christ, you need a doctor.”
“You think?” Dane stayed on all fours as if he too couldn’t move. “Damn horse. I don’t think she broke my jaw, but I’m going to need stitches,” he said as he turned to sit on the ground.
Dane pulled his outer shirt off and pressed it to his jaw.
“You’re going to have one hell of a black eye too.”
“What happened to them? This isn’t normal.”
Eric continued to pet the mare as she fought to breathe. “I don’t know. I don’t see any bite marks or cuts.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket and called Ben. They needed help and Dane needed a hospital.
Within ten minutes, Ben and Russell had both arrived. Russell, the brother with the queasiest of stomachs, helped Dane to his truck and headed toward the hospital.
Ben moved through the stalls and checked the other horses. “They all seem fine.”
“Whiskey River?”
“He’s fighting,” Ben said as Dr. Parks’s truck pulled through the large door to the barn.
Eric moved toward him swiftly. “I have two horses down. No bite marks, no earlier signs of sickness.”
Dr. Parks nodded. “Were they together?”
“No. The mare on the end is a boarded horse. Her owner usually works her out every day.”
“What symptoms?” he asked as he knelt down next to Whiskey River with his medical bag.
“This is how he was when I got here. Dane found him like this. Raven Wing was agitated and then she completely freaked out. She kicked Dane in the face and then she collapsed.”
Dr. Parks looked up at him. “Dane? Is he okay?”
“Russell just took him into town to get stitches. He’s going to look nasty for a few weeks.”
With a nod, Dr. Parks went about his assessment. Eric stood and looked around the barn. The horses seemed to have settled down. Ben sat with Raven Wing, but the look on his face when he made eye contact with Eric, wasn’t promising.
What had gotten to his horses? It was obvious his lack of focus toward his animals and his business had caused this in some way.
Regret buried into his gut. He was responsible for this.
Chapter Fifteen
Eric brushed his hand over the top of his head and slid his hat back on, low over his brow. He, Ben, and Russell had taken turns staying up with the horses all night and he was exhausted.
This was the life he’d chosen—the animals, the land, the responsibility to others to keep their animals safe. He’d failed.
Raven Wing had succumbed around one in the morning. Her owners had been with her at the end, but Eric still had to face them.
Whiskey River hung on and Eric still wasn’t sure he’d pull through.
The truck was there to collect the fallen horse. In the corner a young girl, Emily, cried. Her parents stood huddled with Dr. Parks as Eric approached them.
“Eric, I’m glad you’re here,” Dr. Parks watched him approach with weary eyes.
Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, Raven Wing’s owners, shifted their hard glances to him as he joined them.
“Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, I’m so sorry for your loss. We’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise you,” Eric offered, hoping to give them comfort.
“I think we might have,” Dr. Parks said. “I drew blood from both horses last night. They weren’t bitten by anything and it wasn’t an illness that took down the horses. These horses were poisoned.”
Eric felt his heart stop in his chest. “Someone did this to my animals?”
Dr. Parks nodded. “Do you have surveillance here?”
Eric winced. “No. I’ve never needed it.”
“You should have,” Mrs. Wilson snapped. “You should know who comes and goes from here. Someone killed our daughter’s horse and now she’s heartbroken. You can’t fix that, Mr. Walker.”
Eric turned and looked toward Whiskey River’s stall where his brother sat with the horse. He understood their pain. No, he couldn’t fix that.
Three hours later Eric had talked to the police. The other horses, which he’d boarded, were relocated and Whiskey River clung to life.
Russell walked up behind him as he watched Dr. Parks evaluate Whiskey River.
“Dad just called,” Russell said resting his hand on Eric’s shoulder. “There are three cows down in the west field.”
Eric closed his eyes and let his shoulders drop.
“Elias has gone too far this time.”
“You don’t know it’s him.”
Eric turned toward his brother. Heat seared in his veins. “You’re going to stand there and tell me it’s not him? We’re contesting him getting this land. It’s just like him to do something like this. Just like he turned his own flesh and blood away when she chose to love a man he didn’t approve of.”
“You’re making this all about you. Maybe it’s not.”
He gave Russell a shove. “Get out of my face. I’m going over there and I will knock the first man that tries to stop me on his ass .”
Russell stepped aside as Eric hurried toward his truck.
Dirt kicked up as he sped away from the barn and headed toward the Morgan’s house for the very first time in his entire life.
A mere ten miles from his front door, he crested the hill and the grand house came into view.
Son-of-a-bitch he thought as he looked at the house. Someone who could afford such a place needed more space? He needed to destroy the very existence of the Walkers?
The speedometer on the old truck bounced between 75 and 80. Eric simply couldn’t get there fast enough.
At the turn, Eric skidded his truck through the arched, iron gateway. Some people were full of themselves. How was it that his mother had come from this family? It was no surprise that she had left.
The circle drive in front of the house was filled with cars. It was no surprise to find his uncle’s car there, but to find his father’s—that threw him into a state that he couldn’t even wrap his head around.
Eric slammed on his brakes and stopped just inches from his uncle’s back bumper. He could have cared less about destroying the man’s car, but it would have been a shame to put a dent in the truck.
Walker Pride (The Walker Family Book 1) Page 10