“It’s been a long time. That’s no big deal.”
“I didn’t think much about it at the time, but since then it’s been nagging me. You rode whenever you could when you were a kid. I even suggested that clinic in Richmond because it offered equine therapy, but I’ve been thinking about that, and you’ve never said anything about riding.”
As Brett talked, she placed a silver spoon in her teacup, then added cream and lemon. The routine motions steadied her hands so he didn’t see how upset he was making her.
“So what? I didn’t ride because I didn’t want to ride. Believe me, there were plenty of other therapies.”
“You haven’t ridden since Mom and Dad died. Have you?”
“I didn’t really have a chance. Surely you remember how chaotic it was.” She poured boiling water into her cup and breathed in the fragrant aroma. “Moving in with Gran and Sully. Adjusting to a different life.”
“Why won’t you go riding now? Gabe said he asked and you refused.”
This had gone on long enough.
“How long did you and Gabe talk about me?” she said sharply and slammed the kettle onto the stove. “What else did he have to say?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Oh, really? And they say women are gossips.”
“Then you’ll go riding with him?”
“Why does that matter to you?”
“I think it would be good for you. You spend too much time cooped up in this cottage. You need to get out more.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been very busy repainting this place. It needed sprucing up.”
Brett pressed his lips together. He obviously had more to say, so why didn’t he just come out and say it?
“Is there something else?” Amy finally asked.
The words spilled out, as if all he’d needed was an invitation to berate her. “You don’t ride, you don’t fly, you don’t watch Cary Grant movies. Sometimes I think all you do is ‘don’t this’ and ‘don’t that.’”
“That sounded really stupid.”
“Maybe so. But you know it’s true.”
“I don’t ride horses because I’ve outgrown that hobby. You know why I don’t fly, and except for that cross-country trip to bring Dani back, neither do you. Have you been on a plane since then?”
“No.”
“Then don’t criticize me for that. Or for not having the same Cary Grant obsession that you and AJ have. It’s ridiculous how you spout all those lines and watch the same movies over and over again.”
“We watch those movies because they bring back memories of Gran.”
“I don’t need to watch some slap-happy black-and-white movie to remember Gran. It’s pathetic that you do.”
“The word is slapstick. Besides, those movies aren’t his best. As you’d know if you ever watched one of them.”
“I am done with this conversation.”
Brett braced himself against the counter and took a few deep breaths. Was he . . . praying?
He met her gaze and frowned. “I didn’t mean for this to become an argument,” he said. “But after Gabe and I talked, I felt bad that I hadn’t realized you’d stopped riding. I wish I had noticed when we were kids. Maybe I could have helped somehow.”
“You couldn’t have.”
“How do you know?”
Amy avoided his gaze by staring at the stained glass piece. The dim lighting in the cottage suppressed the colors so it was almost impossible to distinguish the greens from the blues, the reds from the purples. Somehow her spirit reflected the same subdued dullness, as if all the colors of her life had puddled together into an indistinguishable mess. Maybe Brett was right about her don’t’s.
“I couldn’t go to the stables anymore. Not without Dad. It didn’t seem right somehow.”
“I get that. But, you know, it wouldn’t hurt you to change your mind about going with Gabe.”
“Are you trying to set me up with him?” she snapped.
“You could do worse,” Brett retorted. “You have done worse.”
“You did not just say that.”
Brett remained silent and Amy took a deep breath. She didn’t want an argument either, but he was driving her mad. A dull ache tensed the back of her neck. “It’s late,” she said. “It’s been a long day, we’re both tired, and I just want to curl up with my tea and my Kindle.”
“I’ll be going, then.” Brett flashed a halfhearted smile. “You want to come to church with us tomorrow?”
“No.”
He dug his keys from his pocket but seemed reluctant to leave. “I guess we’ll see you on the 4th if not before. Are you bringing anything good?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Do you have lawn chairs to take to the lakefront? If not, I can bring an extra one.”
Amy hesitated. He wasn’t going to like this, but she might as well get it out. “I won’t be going to the lakefront.”
“Why not?” His surprised tone sounded almost like an accusation. He should have left when he said he was instead of hanging around to ask her stupid questions.
“Because I got a better offer,” she responded. Even to her own ears, the words sounded haughty and dismissive.
“A better offer?” Brett appeared stunned, and his eyes widened with hurt.
Amy wanted to take back what she’d said, to say she was sorry. But he didn’t give her a chance.
“This is our first, our very first, time to see fireworks with Jonah and with the girls. Do you have any idea how excited those kids are? How much this means to me?”
The fire burned in Amy’s gut, sparked by guilt and fanned by Brett’s outburst. “Perhaps I prefer to spend the holiday with adults instead of children.”
He stared at her, speechless.
“While you’re stuck with your cute little wife,” she continued, “and all those adorable kids, I’ll be sipping champagne on a high-rise balcony as the colors light up the sky.” She softened her eyes and sighed dreamily. “Doesn’t it sound romantic?”
Brett’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw hardened. Amy braced herself for his defensive comeback.
One slow second passed, followed by another and another. Brett’s shoulders relaxed and a dimple flashed in a smug smile.
“Is he married?” His conversational tone made the question sound innocent, but the coldness in his eyes cut deep.
“I wish they’d never called you,” she said.
“Who?”
She wrapped her arms across her stomach and didn’t answer.
“You mean the ER people?”
If they hadn’t called Brett, he wouldn’t have known about her collapse at the nightclub. He wouldn’t know the humiliation she endured when she came out of her stupor to learn no one had stayed with her. When she was most vulnerable and most needed him, her married senator had fled. Avoiding a possible scandal had meant more to him than Amy’s well-being.
Brett jangled his keychain, then tapped his fist against his leg. “Don’t come to the lakefront. Don’t go riding with Gabe, don’t watch the classics with us. Don’t, don’t, don’t do anything because that’s what you’re best at.”
He walked to the door and placed his hand on the knob. “And most of all, don’t eat. Maybe then you’ll end up in the hospital again, and when the ER calls, maybe I won’t answer.”
His words hammered into Amy’s heart, beating her to a pulp. Stunned, her mind was momentarily blank before she seized one of his mandates.
“I eat,” she declared.
“I never see you.”
“Because I don’t eat in front of you. Because you’re always watching. Always taking notes. I can’t stand it.”
He opened his mouth then closed it again as his posture slumped, and his demeanor changed from anger to regret. But she didn’t want his pity any more than she wanted him monitoring everything she did. Long seconds widened the gulf between them.
“I don’t want to leave you like this,”
he finally said.
“Everybody leaves me. Why should you be any different?”
“I’m always here for you. Always have been.”
She curled up in a chair, her knees close to her chest, and refused to look at him.
“You know that, don’t you?”
She nodded, not because she believed it, but so he would leave her alone. Give him the reassurance he wanted and he’d return to his new family.
“I know,” she murmured.
“We’ll miss you at the fireworks.” He sounded contrite and also a little sad. “I suppose you’re spending the day in Columbus.”
“We’re coming to the family cookout first. I already cleared it with AJ.”
“Is he anyone I know?”
“You’ve probably run into him a couple of times. Logan Cassidy. He was a lobbyist with Kennedy and Gaines but now he’s gone out on his own.”
“The name sounds familiar. Is he the reason you won’t go riding with Gabe?”
“He’s just a friend. An unmarried friend.”
“Yeah, I shouldn’t have said that. Forgive me?”
“Just don’t embarrass me in front of Logan. Or talk about Gabe.”
“I’ll behave myself.” He knelt by the chair and peered into her eyes. “And I’ll do my best to not watch you eat.”
She stared at him, but her fiery anger had ebbed enough for her to recognize his clumsy attempt at an apology.
“Great. Now I’ll be conscious of you not watching.”
He gently tugged her hair. “It’ll be a fun day, Amy. You’ll see.”
After he left, Amy locked the doors and closed all the blinds. After changing into pajamas, she tugged a storage tote from the tiny closet that held a few of her childhood belongings. And one keepsake from her college days.
She lifted the stuffed teddy bear from the tote and crawled into bed. During her first flirtation with anorexia, the one no one knew about, the teddy bear had been her ally. She slipped her fingers into its secret pouch, where she’d once hidden laxatives and diet pills. Now it held a note she’d written to herself after the ER visit. She unfolded the slip of paper and read its words.
If you want to live, you have to change. If you want to change, you have to grow. If you want to grow, you have to live.
After tucking the note back in its secret pouch, she clutched the bear and cried herself to sleep.
24
Logan stood by the grill, laughing at the right times, saying the right things, and counting the hours until he and Amy could leave. By accepting Amy’s invitation, he’d broken his own rule about not meeting the family too early in the relationship. He shouldn’t have.
Even though he’d known Amy for years, and it turned out he and Brett had a few mutual friends, he had little in common with her brother and almost nothing at all with her cousin. Being an alumnus of The Ohio State University wasn’t a requirement for working at the state capitol, but people outside of the city seemed to expect it. Brett and AJ were no exception to that parochial misconception, expressing amazement that Logan had graduated from Dayton’s Wright State University. Still, both men had money. That excused a great many shortcomings.
Logan prided himself on being a good sport by wading in the creek and enduring the splashing of three kids skilled at using their outdoor voices and their barking dog. Though Amy had explained the family relationships as they hiked to the spot from her rustic cottage, he wasn’t as interested in understanding them as he made her believe.
Amy’s eventual introduction to his family would be quite different. While AJ talked about his high school football team’s prospects for the upcoming season, Logan listened politely. But his mind was occupied with possible venues for such an auspicious occasion as showing off his sophisticated girlfriend to his parents. A fine restaurant, perhaps. Or maybe a catered dinner at his apartment. What about a river cruise on the Ohio River? Better yet, on Lake Erie. He made a mental note to check into those possibilities.
After they ate the grilled assortment of meats and usual sides, AJ unpacked several fishing poles. He gave one to each kid, then held one out to Logan.
“Want to try your luck?” he asked.
“I think I’ll pass,” Logan said. He caught Amy’s eye and made a silent plea for escape.
“Give it a try,” she said, apparently amused by his discomfort. “If you catch something, you’ll have a story to tell at tonight’s party.”
“As fun as that sounds, don’t you think it’s time we go?” He looked pointedly at the time on his cell phone. “We have a lot to do before our guests arrive.”
Amy mulled it over then nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”
“If you go now,” Dani piped up, “you’ll miss the anniversary cake. One year ago today, AJ asked Shelby to marry him.”
AJ placed his arm around Shelby’s waist and drew her close. “Best thing I ever did.”
“Reenact the moment for us,” Brett urged. “Did you get down on one knee?”
“No,” Shelby said.
“He didn’t? And you still said yes?”
“No, he did.” Shelby’s cheeks flushed. “I meant, no reenactments.”
“That’s a memory just for us,” AJ added.
Logan hoped that was the end of such silliness, but apparently it wasn’t for Brett.
“You could at least give her a kiss, cuz,” he said.
AJ responded with a mischievous smile. He removed his ball cap and blocked everyone’s view from what Logan considered an unnecessarily long kiss. But he played along, clapping and whooping it up with the others.
Dani unveiled the cake, which mixed patriotic colors with a heart and the names of the couple. Shelby cut it into slices and Logan dutifully accepted one with a polite smile. He ate it quickly and, relieved to see Amy appeared finished with her sliver, announced once again that they should leave.
“Before you do,” Brett said to Amy, “could I talk to you a minute?”
“Must you?” Her tone was half-resigned, half-teasing.
“I must.” He led her several yards away from the others.
Logan feigned interest in the fishing activities while keeping an eye on Amy. The conversation appeared serious, but then Brett smiled and Amy punched his shoulder. Logan’s consternation grew as Brett wrapped both his arms around her neck in a playful headlock and she kicked at his shins.
“Ow!” he said loudly, then released her.
“Serves you right,” Amy called over her shoulder as she walked away. Brett jogged to catch up with her.
“Sure you don’t want to hang around with us instead of going to some stuffy party?” Brett asked softly, though not softly enough.
The glazed chicken breast Logan had eaten turned into stone as he strained to hear Amy’s response.
“I promised I’d go,” she said. “Anyway, you’ll have more fun without me.”
“Not true.”
“That’s a sweet fib. You’re forgiven for being an overbearing and obnoxious brother.”
“And I forgive you for being you.”
“Ha-ha.”
Logan swallowed his annoyance at their banter, then walked toward them with a broad smile. “I hate to be the one to break up the party, but Amy, honey, we should go. Traffic in Columbus will be a nightmare.”
“You’re right,” she said. “Give me a minute to say good-bye to the kids.”
She took at least ten while Logan quietly fumed.
Gabe brought up the rear as he, Ellen, and Tess rode single file in front of the hedges hiding the cottage. Once they reached the bridge, they planned to follow Whisper Lane, the narrow hard-packed path that gave the horse farm its name, to an open pasture that lay southeast of the stables. Glade Creek flowed through it, and Tess thought it would be a fine place to gallop the horses.
From Gabe’s perspective, the pasture’s prime benefit was its location in the opposite direction of Misty Willow. He had no interest in riding anywhere close to the engagement
tree and seeing Amy with her date.
As they neared the bridge, Tess reined Knight Starr to a stop and Gabe urged Daisy next to her. Amy walked toward them from the other end. Striding next to her was the man Gabe had seen in town. Clean-cut, impeccably dressed even in casual clothes, and with the confident posture of someone who expected to get what he wanted from life. Naturally, Amy looked gorgeous in a spaghetti-strapped top and denim shorts. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, and huge sunglasses hid her eyes.
Amy veered toward the bridge’s guardrail as the horses neared. Gabe didn’t understand her irrational fear, but he respected it. When he dismounted, Tess and Ellen did the same.
“Nice day for a ride,” Amy said with an awkward smile.
“And for a walk,” Gabe replied.
“We’re taking the long way back from the willow tree,” she explained, “past the bungalow. The ground is flatter.”
“The picnic’s already over?”
“Only for us.” She introduced Gabe and Tess to Logan, then gazed at Ellen. “I’m Amy Somers.”
“This is Ellen Barnes,” Gabe said quickly, before Ellen could respond. “She’s spending a couple of days with us.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Amy’s polite smile seemed to lack warmth. Probably another jealous snit, though that was unlikely considering she stood next to her boyfriend. Where had she found this guy? One punch and he’d be flat on his back.
“I hope you enjoy your stay,” Amy added.
“I’m sure I will,” Ellen said.
“Where are you riding to?”
“Toward Whisper Lane,” Tess answered. “Back toward the springs.”
Where we used to ride. Gabe willed Amy to read his thoughts in his eyes. Where we found the arrowhead.
Amy’s polite smile clouded, then broadened as she glanced from Logan back to him. “Enjoy yourselves,” she said. “Logan is having guests this evening so we need to go. It wouldn’t be very polite for us not to be there when they arrive, and we can’t go looking like this.” She fanned her hands to her sides.
“I hope you have a pleasant evening,” Gabe lied.
“I hope you do too.” Amy took hold of Logan’s arm. “Ta-ta.”
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