by Stacey Keith
Matthew hated it when women cried. He took one look at April, jumped out of the chair and edged out of the room.
Brandon didn’t want her seeing him like this. He didn’t want her pity or her let me take care of you bullshit. He knew it was coming. A woman like April? She couldn’t help it.
“They said you won’t take any pain meds,” she said, her soft feminine voice clogged with tears. “Also that you’re a terrible patient.”
Why did women get all weepy and sentimental when they saw someone in a hospital bed? Brandon found it annoying, but he didn’t say anything.
Her gaze swept over him again, a little more cautiously this time.
“Ryan doesn’t think your bike is totaled,” she said. “Oh, and those other bikes in your garage, the ones you’ve been working on? They’re fine. Good thing the garage is so far away from the house, right?”
“Oh, that’s great news,” he snapped. “Hey, at least the garage is still there. Maybe Matthew and I can go sleep on a fucking tarp. Do you even hear yourself?”
April retracted her hand like a five-year-old who’d touched something she had been warned not to. “I don’t know what to say to you,” she whispered, more tears threatening to spill. “I don’t know how to make this better.”
“Nothing you say, nothing you do, is going to make any of this better.”
“Ryan said that he’s not going to press charges,” she said hopefully. “You know, with the warrant and Long Jon being on your property and all. Oh, and if Long Jon agrees to turn state’s witness, Ryan said he would do everything he could to help him get a reduced sentence.”
“Don’t you two seem chummy,” Brandon said. Now that the fury was loose inside him, he didn’t know how to stop it. “This morning it was ‘April, you’re such a whore,’ and now we’re back to ‘Ryan says’ again.”
She looked like one of those aquarium fish with the big eyes and the fins going crazy and her mouth open. April really didn’t get it, did she? She actually thought he was going to just hang around while she got her kicks playing nursemaid.
Right, like he was that stupid.
He knew the score. She needed a real man, a real man, not some brokedick. He had no money, no house, no job, no friends, nothing but his body to offer her, and since that wasn’t working right now, why would she stay? And as soon as she realized he had nothing, she’d be off and running. Better to just give her a head start.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he told her, ignoring the searing pain in his head. “I’m out of fucks to give on this whole ‘Ryan says’ shit. As soon as I can put this fucking town in my rearview mirror, I’m outta here.”
April’s chin trembled. Oh, Christ, here come the waterworks. Brandon looked away so he wouldn’t have to watch.
“You’re just upset,” she said, trying to look brave and failing. “Who wouldn’t be?”
“I’m not upset, April. I’m just over it.”
She stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m saying it was nice while it lasted, but come on. A girl like you. A guy like me. When was that ever gonna work?”
He heard her gasp. Something that felt like guilt crawled out of the hole he kept it in. He ruthlessly squashed it.
Her face was mottled red, the way it got when she cried. “You said you loved me. Were you lying?”
“Oh, I did love you,” he said. “Just not enough to stick around, I guess.”
There. That should do it. She could go back to making pies and cinnamon rolls and he could find himself some welcoming backroads and open thighs.
As Long Jon used to say, life is too short for traffic.
She was sobbing openly now. Only a monster let her cry like that. But then, what was he if not a monster?
“You break my heart,” April said, dashing tears away with both hands. “I don’t even know who you are right now.”
“I’m just the guy who got there first,” Brandon said. “You can tell your buddy Ryan that.”
Chapter 22
The Banderas Men’s Correctional Facility was never going to win any beauty awards, but at least it wasn’t getting any uglier. Brandon had spent some formative years of his youth there. The two scraggly oak trees that lined the walkway were greener and leafier now that it was nearing September. As he jogged up the steps and opened the door, that gym socks and tomato soup smell brought back memories. But there’d never been any tomato soup here.
He usually visited Long Jon with Matthew in tow, but Matthew didn’t want to go today. He was back at their extended stay motel with the ratty-looking, plaster-chipped pool. There was a girl who sunbathed there that Matthew had a huge crush on, so Brandon figured that was where the little shit was probably spending his time.
The procedure for all visitors was the same, but guys like him always got a little more scrutiny. He went through the pat-down, the drug-sniffing dogs, the metal detector, the emptying of the pockets, the removal of his boots and socks, the rolling up of his pant legs, the squalling infants and the blaring daytime television in the waiting room for one reason and one reason only: Long Jon. One of the strongest motivations for working his ass off in the Harley repair shop at Thunder Twins was to earn enough money to top up Long Jon’s commissary card.
Long Jon had nine months to go. He wouldn’t turn state’s witness, but he had wrangled a plea deal. Hopefully, Brandon could keep him out of trouble.
The first thing Brandon did when he came to visit was raid the vending machines that lined the far wall. Long Jon liked Junior Mints, Snickers bars and peanut M&Ms. Brandon bought as many as he could and set them in front of him on the table so the guards wouldn’t get upset and think it was contraband. Out of old habit, Brandon always kept his hands where they could see them.
After about ten minutes, Long Jon was finally released into the visitors’ area. He sat down across from Brandon. “Too bad they won’t let you bring in an Artie’s Burger. I’m gonna eat about five of them sombitches when I get out of here. With fries.”
He always said that. The food in prison was pitiful and Brandon remembered dreaming about the same thing. “How’s life treating you?” he asked.
Long Jon slung one elbow over the back of his chair and then shrugged. “TV’s busted, same as ever. When it does work, it’s still that home improvement channel you used to bitch about. I go to the prison library. Tryin’ to learn Spanish.”
“Why don’t you try learning English first?” Brandon teased him.
“You like it up there at Thunder Twins?” Long Jon reached across the table for a pack of peanut M&Ms, raised it up so the guard could see what it was and then proceeded to down half the bag.
“Having all those tools and equipment helps. I got my bike back together. Yours, too.”
Brandon let that hang there because he knew what a special moment it was in the life of every biker when his bike was fixed. It meant a return to freedom. “As soon as you get out of here, we’re going to have ourselves one helluva ride,” Brandon promised him. “Arizona. Montana. Wyoming. Wherever you want, we’re going.”
“You won’t guess who came to visit me last week,” Long Jon said. “April. Ain’t the first time either. She’s been up here…oh, about five, six times, I guess. Always wants to keep it hush-hush though.”
Brandon pretended that the bottom of his stomach hadn’t just fallen out. He crossed his arms before remembering that wasn’t allowed, which meant he had to put his hands back on the table again. “So what?”
“Boy, don’t you go acting like she means nothin’ to you. It’s me you’re talkin’ to. I know better.”
Fucking Long Jon. “Pretty sure I burned that bridge right down to the ground. Hell, I meant to do it. April is better off without me.”
“Jesus. Says who?”
“Says the guy who can barely keep a roof over his h
ead. Or stop some other guy from burning it down for him. She’s happy. I’m happy. Everybody’s happy.”
“What a load of bullshit.” Long Jon rattled the candy bag over his mouth and sat chewing. “That girl’s still in love with you. And if I’m not mistaken, you’re still crazy about her. Call me a liar if I’m wrong.”
For just a moment, Brandon let himself imagine having April in his life again. The sound of her voice. How sexy she looked in her librarian glasses. He stared down at his boots. “April deserves better.”
“Well, you ain’t wrong about that. But you know women. Once they get to hankerin’ after a fella, that’s it. And it’s not like you’re out there lady slayin’ again.”
“How do you know?” Brandon said defensively.
“Matthew told me.”
As much as Brandon hated to admit it, what Matthew said was true. In the four months since he’d last seen April, Brandon had slept with zero women. Zero. Every time he met one that looked interesting, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d try, but in the end he just couldn’t go through with it. They weren’t April.
She haunted him. The things he’d said to her…he lay awake at night in that glorified motel room and actually sweated when he thought about them. But it had seemed like the only right thing to do at the time: break up with her and make her hate him.
After the fire, after almost losing Matthew, the only thing Brandon had left to give her was freedom. The freedom to go out and make a better choice.
“She’s got a new job, by the way,” Long Jon said. “Some kind of at-risk kids’ program involving horses. I guess she and her sisters were raised up around critters. And her brother-in-law has a ranch and she goes there to do these after school wingdings. Seems real happy with it, too.”
He hadn’t known about the ranch or the horses or the at-risk kids. Brandon pictured her outside with the sun on her hair, that beautiful smile. A feeling of remembered happiness welled up inside him.
A guard came to the table and tapped it, signaling the two-minute wrap-up.
“How do you know she still cares?” Brandon asked Long Jon. “Does she ask about me?”
Long Jon smiled the way he did when he thought he knew something that no one else knew. “Not even once. That’s why I know. April don’t say much, but that girl wears her whole heart on her sleeve. And that heart’s got your name on it.”
* * * *
September had always been April’s favorite month, even though she’d been named after a different one. She loved the wide-open pastures at Cassidy and Mason’s ranch, and the smell of the mesquite branches her family gathered as firewood for the smoky-flavored Texas barbecue they’d have later. She loved the way autumn brown was just starting to edge out the green along its winding creeks. The fragrance of horses, pine trees and saddle soap were instant mood lifters, even on those days when her heart ached.
Since today was her niece, Lexie’s, twelfth birthday, the whole family had come down from Dallas to celebrate: Cassidy and Mason, of course, even though football season had just started. Maggie and Jake, who’d been exploring the canals of Venice and left early to get here. April’s mom and dad, who were bickering about where to put the beer coolers—and now Jacey and Ryan, who April had to admit seemed pretty perfect for each other.
After numerous heartfelt apologies for his behavior, Ryan had mostly redeemed himself in April’s eyes. Jacey was there to make sure he didn’t say anything that was—in her words—twelve kinds of stupid.
They’d spent all morning decorating the pavilion for Lexie’s party. Lexie’s Cuervo friends were due to arrive in a couple of hours, but she had a few Dallas friends coming, too. April was happy to see how well she’d adjusted to life in the big city, even though Lexie was growing up without her.
Lexie gave April a hug as she was setting the outdoor picnic tables. “I’m almost as tall as you now,” she said proudly.
“I’m not setting the bar very high,” April admitted. “Even your mom has an inch on me.”
“When I’m as tall as Mom, I’m going to say no when she tells me to go to bed.”
April smiled while she folded a red napkin and placed a fork on top. “Good luck with that. With an NFL quarterback on her team, I think you overestimate your chances.”
She glanced up at Mason and Cassidy, who were laughing as they forked hay out of the barn for the kids to play in.
Yeah, Cassidy definitely had Mason on her team.
In fact, everyone was part of a couple here, except for her. Well, and the kids.
While Lexie ran off to find where the barn cats were hiding, Maggie and Jake came strolling over the hill. Who was more glamorous than her beautiful sister and her handsome jet-setting husband? No one deserved love more than her sisters. Even when April missed Brandon the most, remembering that her sisters had overcome both hardship and hurtful gossip smoothed some of the rough edges for her. She didn’t miss Brandon any less, but it helped to know that her family was happy.
Her mother must have caught the wistful expression on April’s face because she said, “Don’t think for one minute you can’t have that, too, April Lynn. I know things didn’t work out between you and your young man, but that doesn’t mean love isn’t in the cards.”
“What if my cards all have jokers on them?” April asked.
“Well, he wasn’t a joker, was he?” her mother asked.
April folded the last napkin, set the fork on top and then stepped back to admire her handiwork. Joker, no.
“Are you done setting the table?” her mother asked. “It’s such a beautiful day. If the exercise doesn’t kill me, let’s go for a nice walk.”
They went down past the tack barn where the wild blackberries grew, ripe and glistening in the sun, bursting with dark juice. Yellow roses grew over the split-wood fence. Cowbells tinkled in the distance, punctuated by the excited barking of dogs. Through the rustling trees, the sky was brilliantly, achingly blue.
“How you holding up there, honey?” her mother asked.
“Some days are better than others,” April admitted. She reached down for a piece of Timothy grass and twirled it between her fingers. “I think the gossip’s died down at this point, so that’s good.”
“Our family’s weathered more than our fair share of it. But look how everything turned out for your sisters. I just know things are going to turn out for you, too.”
April glanced at her mother’s profile, so like her own. Except for their coloring, she and her mother looked very much alike. “I know I’m a better person because of it. I’m sure not afraid anymore.”
“I raised you and your sisters to be your own women,” her mother said firmly. “Texas women. Strong on the outside, tender on the inside. I’m proud of you, honey. Your dad, too, although I think he was secretly hoping for a son-in-law he could talk shop with. Once he gets going about carburetors, I could just cry.”
Cassidy had come down from the barn and was leaning on her pitchfork. When she saw them, she waved, and Priscilla gestured for her to join them on their walk. Cassidy shouted over to Maggie and then they both came picking their way down the slope.
“What a day, right?” Maggie said, her cheeks pink and her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders. “We’re all going riding later, aren’t we? I can’t wait to try out your new mare, Cass.”
Cassidy bumped shoulders with her affectionately. “You’re going to love her so much. She’s the sweetest thing. Fast, too. You’ll be all the way to Arkansas before you look up.”
“Remember the first time you got on a horse, April?” Maggie asked her.
“I cried,” April said.
“But you never cried one time after that,” Priscilla said loyally. “See? You were always my brave girl.”
The trail slanted up again, closer to the road that wound into the ranch. Together, they stood looking
at the lovely house with its windows glittering in the sun. The pool next to it that Mason had built over the summer was a cool, inviting turquoise. April loved being here, loved having her sisters with her. In just a few weeks, she was going up to visit them in Dallas. But there was still a piece missing. If things had been different, she might have enjoyed the day with Brandon and Matthew. It was the only blot on her sunshine.
While her mother complained about Lexie inviting so many kids and how hard it would be keeping track of them, April heard the distant thunder of a Harley. She could never hear that sound now without her heart aching at the thought of Brandon. She followed her sisters and her mother back up to the house, half listening to Priscilla’s idea for limiting the kids to the pool area.
“But what if some of them don’t know how to swim?” Cassidy asked her.
“Pish! We’ll just put your father in the pool on one of those floatie things. Give him a beer or two and he’ll be fine.”
The Harley sounded closer now, as if it was coming up the long winding driveway. They turned around to see who it was.
“Did you leave the gates open?” Maggie asked Cassidy.
“Of course,” Cassidy replied. “We’re having a party.”
April’s pulse started ratcheting. Maybe someday she wouldn’t have this annoying reaction to the sound of a motorcycle. Maybe she wouldn’t yearn for Brandon every time she saw one. But still she waited to see who it was, wishing she could just face facts like a normal person and accept that dreams didn’t come true. Not for her at least. She had to learn how to be okay with that. It was part of her growth as a person and—
She saw the chrome handlebars of the Harley first, blinding her with their shine. Then the man riding the motorcycle, all smooth muscle and curving thighs, long dark hair blowing behind him.
April couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Her eyes were playing tricks on her. Everything in her peripheral vision went fuzzy.
It was Brandon. He had come for her.
When he saw her, he pulled over and cut the engine, but her ears were still ringing. He swung his leg over the saddle and walked toward her, the hottest man April had ever laid eyes on, his broad shoulders narrowing to a tiny waist. He wore his biker uniform of blue jeans, black T-shirt and boots.