by Wendy Owens
“The trick is understanding when a person we love is toxic.” These words make me want to crumple into his arms. I don’t dare in front of all his patrons. He understands what I’m going through in a way so few do.
“I want to hate Jack so bad,” I groan. “I actually walked in on him having sex with our neighbor, in our own bed.” I hadn’t told him the graphic details before this.
“Ouch,” he says before making a hissing noise by sucking air between his teeth.
I laugh. “Gee, thanks, that really helps.”
He laughs too. “Sorry, that just really sucks.”
“Still not helping.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I think he was crazy for cheating on a woman as amazing as you,” he says, then stands, gently kisses me on my forehead, and walks away. I melt back into my chair. I can definitely see where opening up and being vulnerable can be a good thing. A very good thing.
Chapter Eleven
When I decided I would head out on this adventure to explore the world, I’d never intended on staying longer than two weeks in any given place. Yet, I’ve been at The Three Horseshoes for three weeks now, and I can’t imagine leaving any time soon. Every day I wake up more excited than the last to see Holden. It’s not just the way he kisses me, though that is incredibly nice, but it is so much more. There is something in his eyes when he looks at me, something that tells me I’m special, but also there’s a mystery there. An unknown that is compelling me to stay and learn all I can about this intriguing man.
I hear a knock at my door. Pulling on a gray hoodie, I wrap it tightly around me before answering. It’s Bea. She has a stack of fresh towels and sheets in her arms.
“Good morning, dear; just bringing by some fresh linens for you.”
“Come on in. I was just doing some writing,” I explain, stepping to one side and allowing her to pass by.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”
“Nonsense,” I say with a smile. I see the way Holden interacts with Bea. She’s important to him; that much is obvious. “I really should be heading out for my run soon anyway.”
I walk to the corner and pull out my sneakers that are hiding beneath a chair and take a seat. Bea wastes no time. She swaps out my used towel for the fresh one and turns around, stripping the bed in a matter of seconds.
“Wow, that’s kind of amazing,” I comment.
“What is, dear?”
“Just the way you are with the bed; it takes me half the morning to change my sheets at home,”
I laugh.
She doesn’t find the humor in my statement. I hope I haven’t offended her. Then she replies,
“Well, when you’ve been working in service as long as I have, you pick up a thing or two.”
“Do you like it here?”
“Like it where, dear?” Bea continues with her work, not pausing to even make eye contact.
“You know, here, at The Three Horseshoes.”
“It’s home, and I suppose one should love their home,” Bea answers and then covers the fresh sheets with the quilt, smoothing it out with her forearm before placing the pillows on top.
“Sounds like someone is avoiding the question,” I taunt, trying to build a playful rapport with the woman.
She pauses, looking me up and down, and I find myself wishing I had said nothing and allowed her to do her work in peace. “Can I ask you a question?” she asks me pointedly.
“Of course, anything.”
“Why are you here?”
“Wha—” Her directness throws me off, and I can’t hide my look of shock. She can see that her question has unsettled me and quickly makes her way around the bed, taking a seat on the edge across from me.
“I don’t mean to upset you,” she says, reaching out and placing a weathered hand on my knee. “I only ask because when you first came you told me you would be staying for a week or two. We’re well past that now, and it does not appear you’ll be leaving us anytime soon.”
My mouth hangs open. I’m starting to think she dislikes me, but try to think this is just paranoia. “Have I done something to offend you?”
She laughs a strong and hardy belly laugh, throwing her head back in the air. “Why no. You seem like a very sweet girl. I’m simply trying to understand your intentions.”
“My intentions?” I ask, consumed with confusion.
“Well, yes, with Holden. The two of you have become very close, very quickly. I assume that’s why you’re still with us. I’m curious of your intentions,” she continues, not at all uncomfortable being so blunt.
My eyes widen, I shake my head, and reply, “I hadn’t thought about it. I’m sorry. I guess I don’t understand. Are you and Holden related in some way?”
The older woman presses her lips together, and I catch a twinkle in her gray eyes. Her skin is wrinkled and the flesh at her throats hangs from years of work. She says nothing at first, stands, walks to the door, and closes it, before returning to the grooved spot on the bed.
“Has Holden told you much about his father?” she asks me.
“Hale?”
“Yes, Hale.”
“A little, just about them moving back here after his mother passed away,” I explain.
Bea swallows hard and peers out the window as she recalls the story, “We were all friends once, Hale and Abner, Holden’s mother, Claire, and myself. Claire lost a baby, Holden’s younger brother, which was when Hale decided to move her back to the states. He hoped being close to her family would snap her out of the depression.”
“Holden never told me that part.”
“I think sometimes sickness looks for the sad. Disease knows that when a person is that broken, they won’t fight back. I believe that’s what happened to Claire. It wasn’t right what that boy had to go through. His mother should have fought to survive for him, but she didn’t have it in her. That in itself is too much for any child, but then to have the bitter fight between Hale and Claire’s parents.”
“What fight?”
“They wanted to raise Holden. And I understand, when you lose a child, no matter how old they are, it’s a pain that is inconsolable.” The way she said this I could tell she had once suffered such a loss, but I dare not ask about it.
“So what happened?”
“Hale brought him here, and he never saw his grandparents again. He needed a mom, and I was happy to help Hale in that way. It was the least I could do for them. Hale bought this place and asked Abner and me to come help run it."
"Oh wow, I had no idea."
"We’re a family. It was hard on Holden when he lost his dad, and then to have Maddie run out on him right after ...” Bea balled her fists, and I could see the anger rising in her.
“I’d never hurt him.”
Bea looks at me, licks her lips, and smiles slightly. “Sweetie, you may not mean to hurt him, but it’s like I said with sickness, it’s attracted to the broken.”
“Are you saying I’m a sickness?” I snap.
She reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me over onto the bed next to her. Our faces are quite close, and she’s looking into my eyes. “I’m saying he’s broken. Another bit of pain like he’s had might just destroy him.”
“Well, I’ve been hurt, too,” I say defensively.
“I’m sure you have, but I don’t know you. He’s like a son to me. I’d do anything for him. He smiles when you’re around. He’s taken to humming while he does his work. You make him happy. I hope you can understand, I just want to make sure he’s not falling for someone who isn’t going to be able to be available for him.”
I can’t help but grin at part of her statement. “You think he’s falling for me?”
“Sweetheart, you can’t tell?”
“I thought he might like me.”
“That boy is well on his way to loving you. So think about what I’ve said. If you know you’re not ready, don’t let him think you are, for his sake.”
I nod. She doesn’t h
ate me, she loves him, and I can’t fault her for that. At some point in her life fate never gave her the child she wanted and brought Holden into her life instead. “I promise, I’ll think about it.”
She grins, squeezes my hand, and then she’s gone. Leaving me with her words. Holden is amazing, but she’s right. We’ve only known each other for a few weeks. Two people as broken as we were should at least tread carefully.
Chapter Twelve
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Bea’s advice for the past couple days. Holden must be catching on because he keeps asking me if something’s wrong and making comments that I seem distant. It isn’t that I mean to be; I simply can’t shake her words. Could I end up being that pain? Jack brought me to my knees. Could I do that to someone as wonderful as Holden?
I glance in the mirror, making sure all of my hair made its way into the wrap at the base of my neck. One last touch of my lip-gloss and an extra application of mascara. I’m ready to go, and based on the knock at my door, just in time.
“Good evening, beautiful,” Holden says in his low growl, smiling and looking me up and down as if I were a delectable snack. I’d never attended a brewers’ festival and wasn’t quite sure on the attire when he invited me.
“Hello,” I say with a smile, seeing that he’s wearing jeans, a button-up shirt, and a jacket. Obviously, my jeans with riding boots, and short-sleeve ivory sweater is going to work perfectly. Though Holden isn’t exactly wearing a suit, this is probably the most dressed up I’ve seen him since we met. I’d begun to think jeans or cargos with a t-shirt was his uniform. “You look nice,” I say.
“Why thank you,” he says, extending an arm for me to take hold of. “I’ll look even better with you at my side.”
I can’t help but giggle at his comment. I wrap my arm in his and leaning forward, take in a deep breath, drinking in his scent. “You smell nice, too.”
He freezes, looks toward my unmade bed, then back at me, “You know, I’m willing to stay here and let you have your way with me.”
“Oh, is that right?” I quip back in a snarky tone. “How generous of you.”
“What can I say; I’m a very giving man.”
I laugh and nudge him toward the door. “Shut up and let’s go. You promised me a lesson in brewing, and now I’m actually looking forward to this.”
“We have all night, I suppose. There will be time for that fun later.”
“You’re frisky tonight, aren’t you?” I laugh, taking the lead and making my way down the stairs and out the front door.
“I can’t help myself when I’m near you.” His smile is beaming, and it’s obvious he’s having a good time with the over the top flirting. I take my seat in the truck, and he closes the door, making his way around to the other side and sliding in next to me.
“So tell me more about this brewing thing. What’s so amazing about it?” I inquire.
Holden sits quiet for a moment, and then asks, “How would you feel if you wrote a book?”
“I guess it depends on how good it is.”
“Well, that’s a given, but let’s say it’s a hit, everyone loves it.”
“I don’t know, I guess that would feel pretty amazing,” I reply.
“Exactly, you created something wonderful for others to consume. You made this world better in a way you can actually see,” Holden explains.
“So are you saying brewing beer makes the world a better place?”
“Hell yeah, don’t you agree?”
I can’t stop the laugher. “You’re joking, right? It’s beer.”
“No, it’s art,” he corrects me.
“Oh, I see,” I say skeptically.
“You don’t believe me,” he continues. “Beer brewing has been around since ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia. At one point it was even used as a currency.”
“Seriously?”
“I swear. Think about it. You’re taking the most basic of ingredients: water, some kind of starch, and yeast, adding some hops, and creating something people enjoy. You add your own flavors and unique flair, like an artist’s brush strokes, and voila, you’ve made something people love.” Holden isn’t kidding; I could see that brewing is something he takes as seriously as I take my books.
“I’m excited,” I say at last, squeezing his arm.
Holden pulls into a field that has a row of parked cars. “You are?” he asks, turning to look at me as the truck rolls to a stop.
“Yeah, I can see this means a lot to you, and I want to learn all about it,” I explain.
Before I know what’s happening, Holden reaches out with both hands and grips the sides of my face, pulling me closer to him. I can’t say a word before he presses his lips against mine, then slips his arms around me in an embrace. I fall limp into his grasp, so strong and so sure I want to allow him to carry me away, keeping me safe for the rest of my days. His kiss is soft, then an intensity passes through him and into me. It leaves my head swimming, and a tremor surges through my body. I open my eyes only to see his are wide and staring at me; he’s drinking me in with all his senses.
I feel powerless to resist, and I like it, though I dare not tell him this. When Jack rocked me to my core, I told myself I never wanted to give a man that kind of power over me again. But here I was, fresh off those wounds, and Holden already seems to have that hold. I can’t allow myself to give that control away. But it’s not just myself I’m scared of getting hurt. I also don’t want to bring him that familiar pain. Holden is special, and he deserves someone in his life who can be what I wish I could be. Someone who can make him whole rather than someone he has to spend all of his time piecing back together.
“Wait,” I gasp, pushing him away from me.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, peering at me curiously.
“We shouldn’t do this.”
“Do what? The festival?” he questions, glancing across the street at the mass of tents.
“No—us. I think we should slow down.”
“I thought we were taking it slow.”
“I mean ...” I sigh. I want to kiss him more, but I can’t say that. Damn it, why did Bea have to plant these thoughts in my head? “Maybe you and I are a bad idea.”
“Okay.” Holden leans back, raising his hands in the air and then dropping them on his lap in frustration. “For the past couple days I could tell something was up. Now are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I insist, obviously lying.
“You pulling away from me isn’t nothing,” he argues.
I shake my head, wishing I’d continued kissing him at this point. “I’ve been thinking about us, and I just don’t think it’s a good idea we get too close.”
Holden takes my hand, looking me in the eyes, and I feel my entire body quiver at his touch.
“Belle, do you like me?”
“It’s not a matter of liking you—”
“Do you enjoy spending time with me?” he presses.
“Of course I do, but—“
“No buts then. What we’re doing is perfectly fine.”
“There is a but,” I argue. “I’m eventually going to go back home. And then what?”
“And then we cross that bridge when we come to it,” he suggests.
I pull my hand away, “I’m just getting out of a long relationship that was pretty terrible for me.
I’m not looking to get right back into a relationship. I was just looking for some fun.” “Are you having fun?”
“Well, yeah, but you—”
“I what? I’m having fun, you’re having fun, so I don’t see the problem.”
I huff; he’s making so much sense, but it could be those eyes, or perhaps the lips that he is licking. “I don’t want you to think I can give you something I can’t.”
“I’m here for you to use at your will. Feel free to kiss me and do with me as you want, then you can throw me away when you’re done. I’ll find a way to handle it.” He knew he was so da
mn cute in that moment. That stupid grin plastered across his face ... it is irresistible.
“How generous of you.” I smile.
He leans in and kisses me again, lapping up everything I have to give. Bea worries about him falling too hard for me, but how can I be responsible after telling him that I’m not looking for a relationship. I’ve been completely honest with him. There is nothing else for me to do, but experience what life is trying to teach me. Whatever blissful, messed up thing that is.
Chapter Thirteen
The sun, poking itself into my room and waking me up, is annoying. I’d been up for most of the night, tossing and turning in frustration. I’ve now been here five weeks, and I’m beginning to feel pressure.
There is pressure from my parents, who, while at first didn’t seem to notice I was gone, have transformed into concerned parental figures I’ve never known. I can only assume it’s coming from prompting on Jack’s part, but they have taken to calling and leaving me messages. I don’t dare tell them where I am because I know that will be a direct funnel to my ex, the last person in the world I want to hear from. Instead I’m left stammering, telling them not to worry, that I’m safe, and just trying to figure things out. That of course only makes my mother furious.
“Figure things out? What on Earth are you talking about? Figure things out. What you should be doing is running home and begging your boss to give you your job back. And really, it’s been long enough. Don’t you think you should at least talk to Jack?” My dear mother always knows the quickest way to send me off the deep end.
Then there’s Kenzie, who’s managed to sell most of my furniture and deposit the funds into my account, but I can tell she has her own troubles. It’s clear she needs me, needs a friend, a shoulder to lean on, but I don’t have that in me right now. This time she’ll have to figure things out for herself.
What has my head spinning the most is last night. Jack is a couple months behind me, and while the pain of what he did still stings, he has become more of a distant annoyance to me. The frustration I’m feeling is all centered around Holden. After having the discussion about our no- strings relationship, it feels like each of us is waiting for the other to make the next move. Unsure what line we shouldn’t cross.