Nathan’s laughter followed her into the barn.
Laura found Amanda with the horse, a currycomb in her hand as she groomed it. The horse nickered Laura’s presence.
“Do you need help on the roof?” Amanda asked without turning from her task.
“No.”
Amanda laughed. “I thought you were Nathan.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” Laura asked as she picked up a mane and tail comb from the bench outside the stall.
“Did Nathan send you in here to remind me?”
“No. Okay, yes.” Laura began working through the horse’s mane. At Amanda’s questioning glance, Laura supplied, “I used to take riding lessons, taking care of your horse was part of the deal.”
They worked in silence for a few beats.
“Nathan worries about you,” Laura continued.
“And I worry about him.” Discarding the currycomb, she picked up a hoof pick, walked around Midnight and lifted his hind hoof. “That’s what family does.”
Unless you’re part of the Armstrong family, Laura thought.
“Don’t hurt him.”
It took Laura a moment to realize Amanda wasn’t talking about the horse.
“You see,” Amanda continued, as she cleaned Midnight’s hoof, “when Nathan loves, he loves with his whole heart. It’s the only way he knows how.”
“Oh, he’s not . . . I mean we’re not . . . we’re just friends.” Laura untangled a knot in the mane quicker than she untangled the knot in her tongue.
“Friends with benefits?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
Amanda moved to the horse’s other leg, then picked up his hoof. “You’re the first woman Nathan’s brought home.”
Laura didn’t know how to respond to that, so she continued running the comb through the mane.
“He’s got a lot of love to give, especially to the woman lucky enough to capture his heart.” She came around the other side of the horse and stood directly across from Laura, stroking Midnight’s nose. “I think you’re that woman.”
Chapter 23
“Come take a walk with me.” Nathan held out his hand to her. They’d just finished another artery-clogging, but delicious dinner of baked ham—Nathan’s favorite—butterbeans—Amanda’s favorite—fresh corn-on-the-cob—her new favorite—biscuits, and homemade peach cobbler. A walk sounded good.
“Where to?”
Nathan shrugged. “Around.”
They strolled hand-in-hand down the dirt road, past the cow pasture on one side, a small, wooded area on the other. Birds flitted across the road, a cow lowed in the field, and other than the sound of the wind in the trees and their feet scuffing along the dirt road, it was peaceful, silent. So different from the noise of the city.
She’d slept like a rock out here in the country. Between the fresh air, the quiet, and Nathan’s skillful sex, she’d never felt more rested.
Rounding a bend in the road, they came to a small area surrounded by a wrought-iron fence, headstones dotting the enclosure. An ancient oak provided shade to the eternal occupants.
“My family cemetery.” Nathan unlatched the gate, which swung open with a rusty groan.
Some headstones had shifted over the decades, tilting at odd angles, others were straight but weathered, their engravings barely visible. One looked new. Nathan stopped in front of it.
The headstone read: DOROTHY PATRICIA PARHAM-MAXWELL. Beneath that:
BELOVED GRANDMOTHER, CHERISHED MOTHER, LOVING WIFE. The date of death just six months earlier.
“My grandmother,” Nathan said. “I haven’t seen the headstone since it was installed.” He knelt down, plucked a couple of weeds growing on the slight rise above the grave, brushed the dirt off his hands.
Laura stepped up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and rested her head on his strong back. His hands covered hers as he stood staring down at the headstone.
Laura spied another headstone, newer than the rest, directly across from where Nathan’s grandmother was buried. Releasing him, she walked over.
HOLLY RENEE MAXWELL
HOME AT LAST
Nathan’s mother.
“My grandmother brought her back here to be buried.”
She nodded, unsure what to say. She and Nathan moved down the line of graves, stopping to read the names. Generations who were born and died on this farm.
Nathan stopped in front of a headstone so dark, she could barely make out the engraving. “Turns out I was named for my great-grandfather, and Amanda, my great-grandmother. All those years I felt rootless, adrift in the world, thinking my only family was my sister and my mostly absent mother. And all along I had family roots so deep on these one hundred thirty acres, my sister is a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution.”
She could hear the pride in his voice. Pride in a rich ancestry.
“So, what’s this history you have with Ricky?”
He just shook his head.
“Come on. You can’t expect me to just let the incident in the hardware store go.”
He drew her over to a stone bench beneath the oak tree, propped his elbows on his knees and hung his head. Picking up a stick, he began to draw circles with it in a patch of dirt.
“Not long after Amanda and I came to live with our grandmother and started a new school, we were confronted by a group of boys who cornered us on the way home one day. Ricky was their leader.
He heaved out a breath. “Ricky called my mother a whore, said she screwed men for money, and that Amanda and I were bastards who didn’t even know who our fathers were. The rest of the kids laughed.”
Laura sucked in a breath, her heart breaking for Nathan and sweet Amanda. “What did you do?”
“Other than pulling Amanda behind me, I did nothing. What had Ricky said that wasn’t true?”
He dropped the stick, and his hands fisted. “But then they said my mom died of AIDS, asked if I had AIDS. When I didn’t answer, Ricky said, ‘AIDS got your tongue?’ and laughed at his own joke. By that time a small crowd had gathered, some of the kids egging Ricky and his gang on, others just waiting for the fight.”
Laura sat tense next to him, barely breathing with the anxiety she felt for him.
“I didn’t spend ten years on the streets of Atlanta and not learn a thing or two. I told Amanda to run along. I wanted her far from the fray once it started. When she finally turned to go, Ricky yelled, ‘Hey, little girl, you gonna be a whore just like your mother?’”
Laura sucked in a breath. Closed her eyes.
“Well, that did it. I kicked Ricky in the knees, and when he went down screaming, I threw a right hook and caught one of the other boys on the chin. Before he could throw another punch, Ricky was on me. After that everything happened so fast, that I don’t remember, but in the end, I had a black eye, a cut above my left eyebrow, and a fat lip, but the other kids were much worse for wear, including Ricky. They might talk big, but they couldn’t fight worth a shit. They’d never make it in inner-city Atlanta.”
Nathan finally turned to look at her. “Ricky’s parting shot was that I’d never be anything but a whore’s bastard.”
The pain she saw in his face wrenched her heart. Raising her hands, she cupped his face, gazed into his eyes, and said, “I should have kicked Ricky in the nuts when I had the chance.”
Nathan barked out a laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling, eyes sparkling. Mission accomplished.
Nathan stretched out his long frame in one of the room’s chairs, feet propped up on an ottoman, a beer on the side table, as he watched the Braves baseball game. After a hot morning spent on the roof of the barn, he deserved a quiet evening. He wasn’t opposed to manual labor, he’d done it most of his life, but it sure made him appreciate his cushy office job.
Laura and Amanda sat close on the sofa, their heads bent close over a photo album across their laps.
“Here’s Nathan in his baseball uniform.”
La
ura snickered. “You were so skinny.”
“Hey! I filled out when I got older.”
“I’ll say.”
Nathan felt Laura’s eyes on him. He took a tug on his beer, turning to look at her and winked.
“Is this you?” Laura asked
“Yes!” Nathan hissed out, doing a fist pump as the Braves drove in two runs.
Amanda giggled. “Yep. That’s me with the first vegetables I harvested from my garden. I’d forgotten about that photo. God, I was skinny.”
“And that’s your grandmother?”
“With one of her many blue ribbons for her award-winning blackberry pie. Mmm. Remember that pie, Nathan?”
“Sure do.”
“Try as I might, I just can’t get it like hers. Not too sweet, not too tart, and a crust to die for.” She closed the photo album and turned her body to face Laura. “What about you? What’s your family like?” Amanda asked.
Nathan’s ears perked up, but he kept his eyes on the TV.
“Oh, well, let’s just say my grandmother doesn’t make award-winning pies.”
“You’re so lucky to still have your grandmother.”
Laura drew a pillow across her lap, hugging it to her. The body language not lost on him, Nathan frowned, remembering her grandmother’s treatment of her for going on the cruise and missing her birthday.
“Yeah.” Laura’s lack of enthusiasm went unnoticed by Amanda.
“How about brothers and sisters?”
“I have a younger brother, but we don’t really get along.”
“Yeah, some siblings are like that, I guess. I know we get on each other’s nerves sometimes, but Nathan and I get along pretty good. And your parents, what do they do?”
After Laura explained that her father owned one of the world’s largest shipbuilding companies, Amanda asked, “So you grew up in New York?”
“Yes, well, outside the city. I grew up in Westchester County, about an hour north.”
“Must have been something growing up the daughter of one of the world’s richest men.”
“Oh, it was something.” She gave Amanda a wan smile and caught Nathan’s eye. Her expression said, Help.
“Amanda? Any of that peach cobbler left?”
For once, Laura was happy he read her so well. After that conversation with Amanda in the barn earlier, and then Nathan’s story in the cemetery, Laura felt off balance. Out of sorts. And tales of her family woes were not high on her list of topics she wanted to discuss.
“Good gravy, you must have a bottomless pit. It’s in the pie safe.”
“Hey! I was up on that roof most the day, butterbean.”
“Butterbean. How does someone get a nickname like butterbean?” Laura asked, seizing on an opportunity to take the conversation in another direction. Away from her. “And you can’t tell me it was because of your weight.”
“I loved butterbeans. I’d never had them until I got to the farm, and I asked to have them every night for dinner.” Amanda offered a good-natured shrug. “Pretty soon Gram and Nathan started calling me butterbean.”
“And what about Nathan? Does he have a nickname?”
Amanda snickered.
“Oh, we’re not going there.” He cast an eye toward Amanda. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Now you really have to tell me,” Laura cajoled.
“Amanda,” Nathan warned.
His sister looked between him and Laura.
“Come on,” Laura said. “I’ll protect you.”
“I’m not scared of him. I’ve got too much on him.”
Nathan had risen to stand over her, causing her to descend into a case of the giggles.
“It’s”—more giggles—“It’s hambone.” She rolled on the sofa, clutching her stomach, as gales of laughter filled the room.
Laura snorted, then erupted into laughter herself. “Hambone?” She gazed up at Nathan. “Why?”
“Because when Gram baked a ham,” Amanda said between chortles, “he’d gnaw the bone clean, he loved ham so much.”
Laura laughed again. The nickname tickled her funny bone, but it also tugged at her heart. The thought of two children who’d been living on the edge for so long, finally getting their fill made her thankful for Dorothy Patricia Parham-Maxwell.
After an uneventful flight home, he and Laura drove straight to Darcy and Josh’s house Monday evening so Nathan could meet with Josh and talk over the best way to handle the bank and the developers.
A tall, clean-cut man in slacks and a dress shirt answered the door.
“Dracula,” Laura nodded in greeting.
“Medusa,” Josh returned.
“Why did God make snakes before lawyers?” Laura asked.
“To practice,” Josh answered.
Nathan lifted a questioning brow at the woman who’d just joined them—the one he’d seen in the photo in Laura’s apartment.
“Don’t ask,” she said, as she shook her head. “You must be Nathan.” She stuck out her hand.
“Yes,” Nathan replied as he took her dainty hand in his. “Laura tells me you’re a writer. Romances, right?” Nathan asked.
“Yes,” Darcy said with some reticence.
“What?”
“I’m waiting for the derisive comment.”
“I don’t have a derisive comment.”
“Oh. Sorry. I get a little defensive.”
“Why should you apologize for doing what you love?”
“Why, indeed?” Her smile lit up the room, and Nathan liked her instantly.
After Laura introduced Nathan and Josh, Darcy said, “You boys talk business, we’re going to talk baby stuff.”
Laura grimaced. “We are?”
“Yes.” Darcy hooked her arm through Laura’s and hauled her off to the kitchen. For someone so petite, Darcy sure was strong.
“So that’s Sexy Southern Guy, a.k.a. The Liar?” Darcy whispered as soon as they were in the kitchen.
“I thought we were talking baby stuff.”
“We are, but first things first. Is it him?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know you were, you know, back together.” Darcy gave Laura a non-too-gentle shove. “You don’t call. You don’t write. How am I supposed to keep up with things?”
“We were never together-together. It was just a shipboard fling.”
“And this is what? A New York City fling?”
“Maybe.”
“Well he’s certainly gorgeous. And, love the accent. It’s so Rhett Butler.”
“Hello? That’s what I tried to tell you.”
“What about the competition? The Imperial account?”
“We’ve agreed not to discuss anything to do with the Imperial account, and may the best woman, or man, win.”
“Well, that’s very adult of you.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that in Laura’s World, everything usually takes a backseat to work. You must really like him if you’re willing to let bygones be bygones and not let work interfere.”
Laura shrugged. “He’s gorgeous and he’s great in bed. What’s not to like?”
“Well, I like him. He didn’t make a snide comment about my profession. That speaks volumes. At least to me it does.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Laura answered. She placed her hand on Darcy’s still-flat belly. “How’s my godchild treating you?”
“The little peanut is giving me morning sickness, but by noon it’s over and done, and then I’m fit as a fiddle.”
They spent a half hour catching up with one another, giving Josh and Nathan time to discuss the farm and then returned to the living room where the two men were wrapping up.
“I’ll call Elizabeth first thing tomorrow morning and put her in touch with you and Amanda. She’s great.”
The two men shook hands.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Nathan said as he wrapped his arm around Laura’s waist and gazed down at her. “An
d I can’t thank you enough for introducing me to Josh.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she felt the heat creep into her face. Unaccustomed to such intimacy and tenderness, and in front of her friends, the gesture left her feeling awkward.
“Hey,” Darcy said, relieving her from further embarrassment, “we’re having a party for some of Josh’s clients next Friday. We’d love it if you and Nathan would join us.”
“Um . . .” Laura hedged, desperately trying to come up with an excuse.
“Oh come on, it’ll be fun. Seven o’clock.”
Laura released a long-suffering sigh, then looked up at Nathan. “You game?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Fine.”
Chapter 24
Instead of dropping her off at the front of her building, Nathan insisted on bringing her luggage up.
In the elevator, he asked, “Why don’t you like Josh?”
Laura drew back in surprise. “Who said I didn’t like him?”
Nathan barked out a laugh. “Okay, then.”
Once she’d opened her door, he set her bags inside, then stepping into her, he ran his hands down her arms before clasping her hands with his. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For coming with me. For being there for me. For being so nice to Amanda. She really likes you, you know?”
“You’re welcome. And I really like her, too.”
“The next two days are going to be pure insanity for both of us, so I don’t suppose we’ll see one another.”
“No. Probably not.” She already felt lonely.
“So, goodnight.” He leaned down and gently kissed her mouth. Pulling back, he gazed into her eyes. “Get some sleep, and start fresh tomorrow.” He pressed another gentle kiss to her lips and left.
After the door closed with a quiet click, she leaned against it and sighed like a love-struck teenager.
The word insanity didn’t begin to cover Laura’s Tuesday. It was after nine p.m. before she walked through the doors of her apartment building. Nothing like a fourteen-hour day to make you appreciate a ten-day Mediterranean cruise.
Ship of Dreams (Dreams Come True Series Book 2) Page 22