Forty Candles

by Virginia Nelson

  Moving past him, she headed to the end of the dock to dangle her feet above the water. Dragonflies dipped low, skimming the surface. A fish jumped and made a splash.

  The pond remained, looking just as it had yesterday and the day before, nature apparently not changed because her father left. Maybe it didn’t change her, either. Maybe none of it mattered. She sucked in a breath and it turned to a hiccup.

  “Did I ever tell you the story about the ghost that haunts this pond?”

  Jack’s question had so little to do with her worries, she snapped her head up to look at him as he joined her, feet rocking above the water.

  She didn’t answer him, but he didn’t seem bothered, continuing speaking as if she’d responded. “According to town legend, a long time ago, during one of the wars, I think—not that I remember which one. History isn’t my strong suit. Anyway, this soldier ran away from the battle. They call that deserting, when you walk away from the fight. He came back here to find his love, a girl probably not a lot older than us. They were dating, or whatever they called it back in the day. Before he went to war, he got her pregnant, but he enlisted and they didn’t get married. He didn’t know it but she’d killed herself because she couldn’t live with the baby and not be married. It was a bigger deal, I guess, back then. So, he came home and found out she’d died and since we’re a small town, people were talking about why. You know how rumors go. He came here, to the pond, where she died and jumped in even though he couldn’t swim—”

  “Wait.” She put out a hand and touched his arm. His gaze, suddenly mysterious, dropped to her hand and she snapped it back quickly, heat flooding her face. “If he was older than us, how come he couldn’t swim?”

  Jack’s grin was fast and a little crooked. “I’m telling you a ghost story and the part you find unbelievable is that he didn’t know how to swim?”

  She shrugged, returning to looking out at the water. Her hiccups seemed to be slowing down. She could almost breathe normal again.

  “Anyway, so he killed himself in the pond. I guess she died here, too, but I’m not sure how. But it’s him who haunts the pond, walking night after night in a circle around the water. They say he marches, ever waiting for his ladylove who he left behind but didn’t forget.”

  “That story is stupid, Jack. And if he’s been here since one of the wars, hasn’t he figured out that she’s not? And why isn’t she, if she died here, too?”

  “I don’t have all the answers, Chloe. I just know that, sometimes, a man will wait forever for his love.”

  Even as a kid, she knew those words meant something to Jack. Then again, Jack didn’t understand that sometimes love ended. That sometimes it didn’t matter.

  And she realized, right then and there, that if her parents couldn’t love her enough to stay, to be with her…

  Chances were good no one else ever could either.

  Chapter Eight

  Jack wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his wrist before pushing the shovel into the horse shit and hefting a hay-filled lump of it into the wheelbarrow. The guy who was interested in buying one of his Arabians planned on being here in about an hour. He hated to let horses go, hated the goodbye, but it was all part of the cycle. Animals were born. They lived out their days. Some lived, some died, some were sold, and some were unforgettable.

  This particular mare had a rough go of it, foaling in the dead of winter, struggling through more challenges than she should have faced and keeping her sweet nature through it all. Jim, the guy interested in buying her, had a couple of other horses and teenage girls.

  Sally, the mare, would like the girls. Seemed most girls went through a horse phase, and Jim’s kids all rode competitive trail, meaning they understood the animals and would lavish Sally in love and probably braid her mane…

  Stuff Jack didn’t really have time for, not with work and the other horses to tend to and train. Breathing hard, he leaned on the shovel, considering the now empty stall. He needed to grab a bale of straw, spread it around and then onto the next one. The sound of the barn door sliding open caught his attention and Chloe entered, looking sweet and a little lost.

  She brought spring with her, something flowery and fresh, and he sucked the smell in as she came closer. “Hey, Jack.” She leaned on the rail to the stall, smiling at him.

  “Chloe.” Never one to fall for horses, at least not that she ever said, she still chose to work with animals.

  And still got a little soft around the eyes, her smile bigger, when she looked at his horses.

  “I didn’t know you were working today. Thought I’d stop by, check on Stark.”

  Hearing his name, the dog came woofing from the hayloft, apparently just realizing they had company. A good animal, but not the best when it came to guard dogs.

  “Hey, boy.” Dropping to her knees, she ruffled his fur, her entire attention focused on Jack.

  “I’ve got a guy coming by shortly to buy one of my mares. Interested in going for a ride later?” The stiffening of her shoulders was expected. She’d never gone riding with him, never done more than sit on a rail and look at the horses longingly.

  He sort of thought she might be afraid of horses.

  “No, but thanks for offering.”

  Nodding, he moved past her and the dog, grabbed the straw, and then got back in the stall to spread it.

  “Barns always smell good.”

  Glancing back at her, she leaned on the stall door, and he was tempted to drop the hay, scoop her up, and head back into the house—sale be damned.

  “It’s the horses. Pig barns, chicken shit, cow manure…none of them smell very good. Horses? They have a good scent to them.” Grabbing the rake, he fluffed the straw a little before glancing in the water bucket to ensure the water level was still good.

  “Did you really just say horse shit smells good?” Her laugh, like a balm, soothed his nerves, since it meant she was relaxing from whatever bothered her when she arrived.

  “Yup.” Finished, he shoved the rake into the hall before backing her harder into the doorframe. Her slight indrawn breath rewarded him for the action, as did the press of her breasts into his chest.

  “I hardly think any creature’s shit smells good, Jack.” Trying to cover her reaction, her brow arched. He saw through it.

  “It’s natural. Some things are.”

  Resting his forehead on hers, he sucked in deep the smell of her.

  She cleared her throat, hands coming up to rest on his chest. Her pause told him a lot—that she meant to push him away, but was drawn to keep her hands on him. No matter what logical, or illogical in her case, reasons she came up with to keep them apart, the attraction never dissipated.

  “I—” Beginning to speak, she seemed to distract herself by splaying her fingers to stroke his skin.

  “Yeah?”

  Another throat clearing sound and her hand shook, just a little.

  “Jack,” she tried again.

  Dropping his head, he nibbled, just a bit, on the lobe of her ear. She sagged, nails digging into his chest, and a soft sigh escaped her lovely lips. “Yeah, Chloe?”

  “Dammit, are you going to kiss me?” She thumped her fist on him, and he laughed.

  “Nope.” But he nipped the line of her jaw. “Told you, I have someone coming over to buy a horse. To kiss you right, a man needs no distractions so he can take his time about it.”

  A frustrated noise and she pushed away from him, heading out the back of the barn.

  Following her, and enjoying the view of her sweet little ass swaying, he stopped when she did, leaning on a rail and watching the breeze play with her vibrant hair. “It’s good he’s coming by today. You’re mighty tempting, Miss Chloe.”

  Punching the rail, she faced him. “Dammit, I know you’re attracted to me. At least, I think you are. We’ve gone on a date, just like you wanted. What in the hell are we doing?”

  Ah, so it was time for talking. Pulling himself over the rail to straddle it, he looked
down at her. “I figured, before this went too far, we should talk.”

  “We’ve been talking for years, you stupid redneck!” Her anger, true to her hair color, flashed bright and hot. Lucky for them both, he knew it dissipated just as quickly, if he just waited her out.

  Looking out at the horses, some grazing, he let the calm of the farm settle over him, a balm to his own temper. The mare, Sally, dozed not far off, one leg kicked back and head low.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  He nodded.

  “What I meant was, we’ve been talking for years, Jack. We’re not really on the same page, relationship wise, and it’s kind of my fault.”

  Kind of? “I might have reckoned that, Red.”

  Her snort wasn’t ladylike but reminded him, in an amusing way, of one of his horses. “I didn’t tell you everything. You know, when Gary…”

  She trailed off, not meeting his searching gaze, and suddenly very interested in the horseflesh in the field.

  “He left you. Your daddy left you. Because of them, and the other half assed relationships you’ve fiddled with, you decided we could never work out. I know you’ve loved me, Red, and have for just about as long as I’ve loved you.” Maybe it was too much, but like a horse being broken, he pushed, hoping she’d respond and not buck him off again.

  Her laugh wasn’t a happy sound, and his chest vised at the noise of it. The animals in the pasture looked over, apparently sensing something of the pain in that noise. “Look, it’s more than that. Gary had every right to leave me.”

  “You can’t really believe that?”

  Finally, she really looked at him, her eyes wet with tears. He hated when she cried. “I can’t have kids, Jack. We tried. The doctor said it was something—I don’t know. The sack the baby was in separated from me, or something. Then the babies starved and eventually I miscarried. You’ve known, like no one else did, that I sucked at relationships, at love. But I’m not just broken emotionally, dammit, I’m broken inside, too. You deserve more, a family.”

  It seemed wrong to laugh at her when she was being all true confessions, but he fought not to chuckle. “Woman, has that been your problem all this time?”

  Smacking his knee, she glared at him. “It’s a fucking big problem.”

  Coming off the fence, he caught her shoulders. “Adoption.”

  “Okay, you’re back to one word answers…” She waved a hand, prompting more.

  “If we, and it’s we if you’re in a relationship, you blockheaded redhead, wanted children, adoption is available. There are all sorts of options—”

  “If, and it’s a damn big if, I was ever able to maintain a healthy relationship, it would be unfair to keep you from having a child of your own.” The stony expression told him she was serious.

  “Red—” Hearing the sound of an engine, he glanced up to see a truck and trailer pull up. “Dammit, now isn’t the time to talk about this.”

  She nodded. “I understand.” Her martyr face was back in place and he groaned.

  “You don’t, but I have a horse to sell and pack up.”

  The wry twist of her lips said she read more into it than what he actually said, but he could talk to her later, explain. “I’ll see you around, Jack.”

  Releasing her, he headed through the barn. By the time he sold the horse, packed her up, and shook hands with Jim, Chloe’d been gone for a while.

  ***

  She’d been scarce lately, but Jack’d gone longer without seeing her and knew she could be busy at work. Lord knew, he’d been busy, with the county starting a new drug initiative to cut down on the meth houses and his horses.

  But tonight, well, he had all his work caught up, wasn’t on call because it was a Thursday, and he wanted to see her.

  A quick check of Facebook showed she must be feeling frisky, too. She’d checked in at the local bar. Liking the status, he stood and snagged his favorite hat. Glad he’d showered and shaved, he figured it was a good night to finish their conversation.

  Maybe more, who knew?

  Grinning and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he found a spot to park and headed into the bar with a grin on his lips and plans on his mind.

  Only to stop dead once he spotted her...

  Draped across some man, looking awful cozy, about ready to sling back a shot.

  ***

  Chloe didn’t know how long it would take Jack to come sniffing around again, only that he’d be back. She fully intended to be ready when he did turn up. The man she’d been seeing, Jase, was nice enough. Not looking for commitment, easy on the eyes and out for a good time.

  Basically, everything she looked for in a man, plus a two-ton Chevy.

  It said a lot about her connection to Jack that she sensed him the moment he walked in the bar. If she laughed a little louder, stroked Jase’s arm a little more frequently, it wasn’t like she was putting on a show for Jack. Not exactly.

  His gaze seemed to burn her from across the room. When would he come over? Would he say something? Or just keep lurking over there, nursing a beer?

  Her guard slipped, after a while. He apparently wasn’t paying any attention to her, or hadn’t spotted her. Or he would have come over, wouldn’t he? Then again, maybe he didn’t care. Maybe the shine wore off. Maybe her words finally sank through his thick head. And he realized she was a poor choice and moved on and didn’t care in the least that she was here with another man.

  She frowned down at her drink, the thought leaving a hollow spot in her chest, waiting for Jase to return from the restroom or wherever he’d gone.

  “Chloe.” The casual way Jack said her name made her breath catch. Jack was right behind her, close enough that he didn’t have to yell. The heat of him scorched her and she wondered how he’d gotten so close without her noticing.

  “Jack,” she answered without turning.

  “Remember that ghost story I told you? Way back when we were kids out by Wilkerson’s Pond?”

  Random. She spun on her barstool, only a little unsteady from the fruity shots Jase ordered her. “Yeah?” She expected Jack angry. She expected him to yank her out of here, tell her he loved her again—basically, to act like Jack. The face she stared up at was that of a stranger. Not a single emotion rippled across his good ole boy features, masked behind a blank look that sent ice shivering through her veins.

  “Do you remember what you asked me?” His voice wasn’t even quite right, because it sounded like he didn’t care either way what she answered.

  “No,” she lied.

  A quirk of a smile lit his face, but it wasn’t a happy look. If anything, that tilt of his lips seemed derisive, mocking. “You said the story was stupid—that if he’d been there, shouldn’t he have figured out that she’s not?”

  He waited, eyes still so empty that she swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

  “You’re right.” Jack shrugged. “Just thought I should tell you that, after a while, he should have figured out she wasn’t there and never would be. He shouldn’t have waited.”

  He turned. She lifted a hand, panic making her heart race, but he kept going, vanishing into the crowd. Breathing in on a sob, she got it.

  He meant he wasn’t waiting anymore.

  It shouldn’t have hurt. She’d intentionally kept him at arm’s length, intentionally made sure not to let him so close that he could hurt her when he left—like everyone else.

  She knew, understood suddenly, the reason she’d been so careful.

  She could survive a lot, had made it through a lot of things, and kept her head up. Kept moving onward. But Jack’d been there. Through all of it. Her friend, the one person who knew all her dirty secrets and never walked.

  If she let herself love him, how much more would it have killed her when he finally left?

  So she’d been careful, never let the relationship evolve, because keeping her distance kept her from that cliff, from shattering.

  But it didn’t matter.

  She l
oved him.

  Whether she dated him, made love to him, shoved him with both hands away from her, through it all, she’d loved him and maybe, just a little, depended on the fact he’d never go.

  That nothing she did would be it.

  The thing that made it over.

  So her plans, her protections, her walls…

  None of them mattered because she’d loved him all along.

  And now…he left.

  Jase returned, slinging an arm around her waist and she saw herself for what she was.

  She didn’t like it.

  Stumbling out of the bar, she sucked hard on the air, holding back the sobs. If she let them out, she might never stop. “Fuck. I love him.” And she’d ruined it. She couldn’t blame her useless uterus. She couldn’t blame her parents. She couldn’t blame her exes…it was all her.

  “I’ll make this right.” The moon hung over her, hearing her vow over the low noise of the bar behind her. “I’m not running away anymore. This one I’m fighting for. Dammit, universe, you might have robbed me of my chances, I might have shot them down myself, but he’s worth fighting for. And if he never trusts me again, dammit, I’ll haunt him until I lie down to die. Even then. That man isn’t getting rid of me that easily.”

  The moon hung, just as it had every night, not seeming to care that she’d just had an epiphany. It didn’t matter, though.

  When Chloe Sabatina made her mind up, nothing could stop her.

  Chapter Nine

  Dropping the fishing line into the water, Jack leaned back on the dock.

  Dragonflies danced across the water. His dog sprawled at his side, warmed by the sun, and his beer was cold. A man could ask for better things, but chances were good they were pipe dreams. The simple life, the little things, made it worth living.

  Gravel crunched and he glanced over his shoulder to see Dylan’s truck pull up. Stark, too damned lazy to care, lifted his head with a halfhearted woof before settling back down with a big doggy yawn. Rubbing his head, Jack mumbled, “You’re no guard dog, Stark-my-boy.”

  The dock swayed and the sound of boots on wood announced Dylan before he flopped down next to Jack. “Got another beer?”