Discovering Harmony (Wishing Well, Texas #3)

by Melanie Shawn

  So why couldn’t the man even share a meal with me?

  That was the million-dollar question.

  A few unintelligible grunts and moans escaped me when I finally rested my ankles on the wooden table. Feeling like I’d just run a 10K, I sagged back into the couch in relief. Closing my eyes, I let myself sink into the cushiony goodness of Destiny’s oversized, fluffy couch cushions. It felt like I was floating on feathers, and if I wasn’t careful, I’d float right into nap-time. I’d been tired before. In college, I’d pulled more than my fair share of all-nighters, sometimes two in a row even. But I’d never achieved this level of bone-deep exhaustion. Sleep had been almost nonexistent for the past few nights. If I wasn’t obsessing about Hudson, I was writhing in pain.

  A soft sigh fell from my lips. “You guys have no idea how exhausted I am and how hard it is to get comfortable. I’m miserable.”

  After letting myself luxuriate in the bliss of not moving, not speaking, not anything for several beats, I took a deep breath in through my nose and forced my eyes open so that I could be sociable. When I did, I was faced with a death stare from Destiny and a cringed expression from Cara.

  “What?” I did a mental playback to figure out why the energy in the room had shifted… Nope. I was lost as to what had caused the friendly tide to change and why the resulting negative wave looked like it was about to crash down on me.

  If Destiny was a cartoon character steam would be billowing out of her ears. I noticed her fingers tightening around the armrests of the recliner she was in as her face turned a deep crimson.

  Uh, oh.

  Destiny had a bit of a temper that she’d been trying to rein in over the past few years. These days she rarely ever got good and mad, but that was definitely where she was at now. I’d never been on the receiving end of her anger, but I’d seen it in action. Slow build up, but explosive result.

  “You are not seriously going to complain to me about being uncomfortable.” Destiny spoke through gritted teeth.

  Oh, shit.

  I immediately recognized my error and started backtracking faster than the Road Runner on rewind. As fast as I could form words I blurted out, “Oh no…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…”

  Destiny continued on, unmoved by my apology, her voice rising with each statement she made. “Me, who is almost three weeks overdue. Me, who hasn’t been able to sleep on her stomach for the last four months, and you know that is the only position I can sleep in. Me, who’s gained twenty pounds in the last eight weeks, ten of which have to be in my ankles considering they look like cowbells. Me, who hasn’t seen her feet in a month and can’t even tie her own shoes! Me, who has to pee every fifteen minutes, so that even when I do fall asleep, it’s only in short spurts between trips to the bathroom. Me, who has Freddy Krueger scratch-like stretch marks on her hips. Me, who is going to have a bowling ball come out my vagina!”

  Destiny’s eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared.

  Oh, boy.

  Her voice was so high, I was scared she was going to shatter glass. “You are going to complain to me about how your body aches and a little sunburn? You are actually going to sit there and say that I don’t have any idea how hard it is to get comfortable?”

  I opened my mouth to once again apologize, but nothing came out. I was at a total loss of what to say. If this was Destiny nine months ago, I’d just make a joke, or say something like yes, she was exactly the person I was going to complain to because she could relate but no way was I going to dip my toes in those tried and true jesting waters. If I did, this Destiny—third trimester/overdue Destiny—was likely to chomp my foot off like Jaws.

  A quick scan of Cara told me I was in this alone. She shrugged with sympathy and looked equally as puzzled as to what my next move should be. With limited choices, I decided to go with the one thing the three of us had always expected from each other—brutally honest sincerity.

  Looking straight into her blue eyes that were shooting daggers at me, I tried to convey as much earnestness as I could. “Destiny, I am so, so sorry. I never meant to upset y—”

  My heartfelt apology was cut short by bursts of laughter coming from my fellow Angels. It took a moment for my brain to catch up to what was going on, but when I did I registered that Cara was doubled over laughing uncontrollably and Destiny’s head had fallen back as she laughed so hard she said she was scared she was going to pee her pants.

  What the hell? I knew that mood swings were a common side effect of pregnancy, but this was ridiculous.

  “Oh!” Destiny tried to catch her breath as she wiped beneath her eyes as she composed herself. “You should’ve seen your face!”

  “Wait…you’re not mad?” I knew that I wasn’t really firing on all cylinders, but I was having a hard time following along.

  “No, not at all! I just figured I better get as much mileage out of this as I could. I’m actually feeling great. This past week, I’ve had a ton of energy and been cleaning like crazy. But, even if I was miserable, you still have the right to complain. Sunburns are no joke, and I still remember how I couldn’t even get out of bed after this one”—Destiny inclined her head towards Cara—“talked us into that ill-fated boot camp. I just saw an opportunity to amuse myself and took it. Honestly, I’ve been going a little stir crazy since JJ and Dr. Edwards decided that I can’t be at the bakery anymore. I’m sorry.”

  Like I said—brutally, honest sincerity.

  “And you were in on it?” I smiled as my eyes shifted to Cara.

  Her blonde hair brushed her shoulders as she nodded. When you closed your eyes Destiny gave me the signal.”

  The three of us had had a “signal” which consisted of a wink/nose wiggle combo since first grade. It had been born out of necessity when I lied to our teacher Mrs. H. I told her my dog ate my homework and I’d found it in a pile of his poop. When I’d turned to my two besties for backup, none had been forthcoming. They’d both seemed as shocked as Mrs. H was at my outlandish, but colorfully descriptive, story. After narrowly escaping detention, I put a “signal” into place. Whenever one of us needed another one to go along with something, you gave the “signal.” So far, it had saved us from so many things: being grounded, being fired, uncomfortable conversations, and countless unwanted advances, and, on one occasion, it had even gotten me out of a speeding ticket. And now, apparently, it was being used to play practical jokes.

  “I’m sorry.” Cara’s voice was filled with concern as she leaned forward. Cara was by far the most nurturing and sensitive out of our threesome. “I didn’t think it would really upset you.”

  “It didn’t,” Destiny answered for me. “She’s just cranky because she’s sexually frustrated working that closely with Hud and not being able to break her streak.”

  “Um…I’m right here. I can answer for myself,” I protested, even though Destiny had hit the nail on the head.

  “Sorry.” Destiny smiled brightly, completely unmoved by my testy response. “I was just trying to be helpful. I’m right though, admit it.”

  I sighed in frustration, mostly at myself. “Yes. You’re right.”

  “Really?” Cara’s eyes widened. “You have a thing for Hudson Reed?”

  “Yes.” Destiny and I both answered simultaneously, something the three of us had a habit of doing.

  “Since when?” Cara followed-up.

  Glancing at Destiny, my left brow raised. “You want to take this one?”

  I was more than a little curious to find out what she would say. I knew how long I’d had a thing for Hud. Basically since puberty. But I seriously doubted that she knew that.

  “Nah, you go ahead.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s your story to tell.”

  That’s what I thought.

  “A while.”

  My non-answer inspired the same stare from both girls. The nice-try-but-I-don’t-think-so stare.

  Letting my head fall back, I groaned. This was not the conversation road I wanted to drive down. It led thr
ough Rejection Alley and dead-ended onto Embarrassment Court.

  Ninety-nine percent of my life had been an open book. I’d shared everything with Destiny and Cara except my longstanding feelings for Hud and the night I snuck into his apartment and waited for him. Naked. I’d kept that one percent of humiliating history to myself.

  “Has it been that long?” Cara—sweet, naïve Cara—asked in disbelief.

  “Yes.”

  “And you never did anything about it?” Destiny—relentless B.S. detector Destiny—asked in suspicion.

  I figured there was really no reason not to come clean at this point. What did I have to lose, except a little dignity?

  For years, I’d been holding out hope that if Hud and I ever got to spend any time together, real time, he’d see me for me. Not the spoiled “princess” he was so fond of calling me. I’d truly believed he felt the same insane chemistry I did, he just needed to know who I was, really was, before he would act on it. Part of the reason I’d always kept my feelings to myself is because I’d thought there might be something real there. I hadn’t wanted to risk it or jinx it by saying it out loud.

  Over the past week, he’d made it clear that even if we were the only two people for miles, he wasn’t interested.

  My heart sank as I admitted that to myself for the first time.

  Lifting my head, I cursed under my breath as every muscle in my neck was strung tight with an aching pain. When I managed to sit up, my friends’ faces were looking as eager as an elementary school bookworm at story time.

  “There was this one night—”

  “I knew it!” Destiny’s finger pointed my way in accusation.

  Ignoring her outburst, I continued, “It was grad night—”

  “You were with him?” It was Cara’s turn to interrupt. “I thought you were sick. You said you drank an entire bottle of vodka and that’s why you missed the party.”

  My stomach rolled at the memory of my vodka-induced inebriation. It was the first and only time I’d ever finished off an entire bottle of liquor on the solo tip. Unless you counted wine…wine was another story.

  “I was sick and it was because I’d ingested copious amounts of alcohol after I’d experienced the most embarrassing, humiliating night of my life.”

  “What happened?” Cara and Destiny chorused in what sounded equal parts awe and wonder.

  “It all started on prom. Do you guys remember me telling you that I went home early?”

  Both my friends nodded.

  Cara hadn’t been able to go to prom because she’d been in the hospital at the time, getting what would end up being her last round of chemo, and Destiny disappeared with my brother, her now husband, after the dance.

  “Well, Hud actually took me home.”

  “Ohhhh!” They exclaimed in a misguided sense of understanding.

  “No, not like that.” I corrected their assumption. “Everybody decided to go to the cemetery, to drink and…I thought I could handle it…”

  “You thought you could go to the cemetery?” Destiny’s face scrunched.

  “At night?” Cara chimed in.

  “At the time, yes. I told myself that I was an adult and that all of my fears were—”

  “You turned eighteen three days before prom,” Destiny perceptively pointed out.

  “Right. So, like I said, I was an adult, I figured I needed to suck it up. Well, after a few steps in, all that bravado disappeared faster than a sandcastle in a tsunami. I’d barely made it past the gate before I froze in terror. No one noticed I wasn’t still with the group, so they all kept going.

  “I opened my mouth to scream for them to stop, but, my cries were barely above a whisper. I don’t even know how long I stood there. I honestly thought I was going to die.”

  My heart was racing at the memory. The danger, the panic, still felt so real.

  “Finally, I was able to shuffle my feet backward until I made it out of the gates. Then I turned and started walking home as fast as my wobbly legs could carry me. Tears were pouring down my face. I was a hot mess. That’s when my knight in a shiny pickup truck pulled over and told me to get in. He drove me home and let me babble on and on about how scared I was. When he dropped me off I wanted to kiss him, or actually I wanted him to kiss me. But it didn’t happen.

  “Somehow I convinced myself that the only reason he hadn’t acted on it, was because I was still in high school. I figured once that was out of the way, we could be together. So, me being me, I decided to take matters into my own hands. On the night of our graduation, I broke into his apartment and waited for him. In his bed. Naked.”

  “You did what?!” Cara exclaimed.

  “What did he do?” Destiny sat up straighter, her hands resting on her belly.

  “Let’s just say he was less than pleased.” No way was I going to give them a verbatim recounting.

  “And what did you do?” Cara followed-up.

  “I went home. Rejected. Humiliated.” Heartbroken. I kept that revealing adjective to myself. “And that was when I decided to down an entire bottle of vodka.”

  “Wait.” Destiny’s head tilted to the side like the RCA dog. “So you started crushing on him at prom?”

  “No. It was a little longer than that.”

  “Aww.” Cara held her hands to her heart as a smile spread on her face.

  “No. Not aww. Did you not hear what I just told you?”

  Cara grinned even wider. “Love is always aww.”

  “Who said anything about love?”

  “You did.” Destiny spoke as if it was a fact. “Not with your words. But you said it, loud and clear.”

  Cara nodded in agreement.

  Had I? Did I? I was saved from having to answer those questions, even to myself, when Destiny had a contraction. She said it was Braxton Hicks. Talk turned to the baby and I threw myself into the new conversation.

  It was bad enough that I’d had a schoolgirl crush on Hud, being in love with him would be…bad. Really bad.

  Chapter 10

  Hudson

  “Fightin’ love is like trying to climb out of quicksand, the harder you struggle the farther you sink.”

  ~ Loretta Reed

  A yawn claimed me as I ground the heel of my palm into my eyes. I was exhausted. Bone-tired.

  After spending four days working up at the ranch, I’d worked three twelves in a row. Even with the four cups of coffee I’d drank I could barely make out the words on the documents in front of me, much less make any sense of them. But that didn’t matter. I needed to get these signed, initialed, notarized and submitted before I headed up to Emerald Cove tomorrow morning so there wasn’t a delay in the insurance and all of the proper permits were filed.

  I heard the squeak of the back screen door seconds before I heard my mother’s voice. “What’s this I hear about you changin’ up the plans for the camp?”

  This morning I’d called my mom, who was a notary, to come over so I could get through these and drop them at my lawyer’s office in the morning. “I’ve decided to incorporate a rescue. I want to take in dogs and horses to start, and then expand as we grow. I already spoke to Uncle Chuck and Aunt Lana about the new direction.”

  My Uncle, a retired cop who worked in the K9 unit of forensics had been thrilled to be working with rescues. My aunt, who’d just retired from being a social worker, had been excited about the therapy potential the animals had for the kids that come to the camp. She said they instill work ethic, confidence and sense of purpose.

  After pulling out the kitchen chair across from me, my mom took a seat at the table, dropping her purse beside her. “And would this ‘new direction’ have anything to do with a certain green-eyed, auburn-haired beauty?”

  Yes.

  Since I wasn’t in the habit of lying, especially to my mom, I turned my attention back to my paperwork.

  “I thought so.” I couldn’t see the expression on her face, but if the knowing tone in her voice was any indication, she took my silenc
e as agreement.

  There was nothing I could do about her assumption, even if it was true. Especially since it was true. The fact was that I’d decided to add “rescue” to Reed Ranch because of Romeo and Harmony. Because of seeing Romeo with Harmony. The new direction of the ranch was really just the tip of the Harmony-inspired-life-changes iceberg. That sucker was packed full of stuff I had no intention of getting into with my mom, or anyone else—including myself—for that matter.

  “Sooooo…” my mother sing-songed, “Does this mean that you’re finally going to do something about it?”

  “About what?” I kept my eye trained on the paragraph I’d read and reread at least five times because I couldn’t focus for shit.

  “Hudson Jasper Reed, do not play dumb with me.”

  Damn. I may be an officer of the law, homeowner, and grown-ass man, but when Loretta Reed used middle names everyone in Wishing Well, or Clover County—hell, in the entire state of Texas—sat up straight and paid attention.

  Lifting my eyes to meet my mom’s light brown stare, I tried not to let the tension I was feeling bleed into my tone. My bad mood and crankiness had nothing to do with her. She’d come by to help me, as a favor, and there was no reason to take my frustration out on her.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” My answer was short, sweet, and to the point. I knew it was not likely that my mom would respect my boundaries, but it was at least worth a shot.

  “Well…” She shrugged with mock empathy. “Too bad for you, I do.”

  I could hear the ball hit off the backboard. A shoot and a miss.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” There really wasn’t. Whatever I felt for Harmony, whatever life changes she inspired in me, whatever future I wanted to share with her, was totally inconsequential. Nothing could be done about any of it.

  “Oh now, that’s where you’re wrong. You’ve been sourer than milk sittin’ out on the porch in the middle of July for the last few weeks. And I get it. Harmony makes you crazy. Always has, always will. And it seems from your sunny disposition this past week that it’s reaching critical mass.