Summer on Main Street

by Crista McHugh

  Hayden took her fill of the garment and replaced it in the bag but kept it out on the bed. She couldn’t bear to return it to the dark closet.

  Fifteen minutes later, she left Gran’s room, carrying a simple black dress. It looked like it had been made in the sixties, but the style was timeless in its design, and it would suit her purpose well enough.

  Ben waited outside for her. He’d driven her over, although she told him it wasn’t necessary. He wanted to make sure the barn and the outbuildings were closed up, so he said. They’d returned Hayden’s rental car two days ago, but brought Gran’s sedan over to The Painted Horse so she could have a bit of freedom to go back and forth between ranches. Yet for some reason he’d been sticking close to her side, expecting her to crumble at any moment. She held up, though, as she had when he mother had died.

  After letting the tears fall when Gran had first passed on, she remained stoic and strong. Maybe someday it would hit her, but for now there was too much on her plate and she couldn’t let it slide.

  Still, it was good, if not somewhat awkward, having Ben around. He’d picked up all the responsibilities of handling the arrangements for Gran’s funeral, though much of it had already been settled in advance. It left her with her thoughts of what to do with her inheritance, her future, and with her growing feelings for Ben.

  Suddenly, leaving Burton, no, leaving The Painted Horse Ranch, wasn’t as urgent as it had been when she first arrived. There was a new kind of urgency, though, and that was to fight the feelings she had for Ben. She had to remind herself every day of her reasons for going back home to Maine. Carl needed her help at the inn they ran, despite the fact that he’d told her over and over again on the phone that things were fine and she should take her time. He’d been managing without her for weeks now. She believed the confidence in his voice. If he was anything, Carl was capable, and she had to wonder to herself if she was using him as an excuse to go back. Then there was the coast of Maine, which she so dearly loved, and the lighthouse she used to wake up to every morning and went to sleep to each night.

  It’s just a building. That was the voice of the woman who was falling in love with the owner of The Painted Horse. An old lighthouse couldn’t keep her warm or return the love she felt for it.

  With a frustrated groan, she put the dress in the back seat of Ben’s truck and climbed in the front and waited for him to finish up out at the barn.

  ****

  “Oh Lu, what were you thinking?” Ben mumbled the words under his breath, and could have sworn he could hear her familiar chuckle. The sound was so realistic that he turned around and looked for her. It wouldn’t have surprised him at all if he saw her sitting on the porch swing, one of her favorite spots at Primrose. But the swing was empty and the fact was that the new owner of the inn sat in the front seat of his truck waiting for him and no doubt trying to wrack her brain to figure out what to do next.

  The big pale yellow Victorian was locked up tight and had probably seen the last occupation by a member of the Gardner family. A sad day. The Gardners had lived there for so long and it didn’t seem right that it should go to someone else. And now what? He didn’t know. Hayden had made it pretty clear that she didn’t intend to stay. And he had to see her side. What would she or could she do with the place? The days of it being a functioning guest ranch were long gone, and truth be told, he couldn’t see it being revived. The place was just too darned big for a single woman to try to live alone in it, even if Hayden did have a mind to settle there.

  Ben climbed into the truck next to her.

  “You all set?” He looked over at her, frowning at the lost look in her eyes. She stared off at the house with a wistful sort of look in her russet eyes.

  “I wish I could have known her better,” she said sullenly. But the frown on her full lips turned up into a small smile, and her eyes lit as if a flame burned behind them. “She told me, when she was…was leaving, I guess, that my mother was waiting for her. Her parents and my grandfather too.”

  Hayden looked away from the house and to Ben instead. Her smile warmed the air between them. It certainly did a number on his heart, and he fought the urge to reach out and push the tendril of dark hair that had fallen across her cheek back into place. Now wasn’t the time or place for romantic gestures. Besides, even though Hayden looked directly at him, he didn’t think she was really seeing him.

  “Isn’t that beautiful? Hopeful? To have her loved ones waiting for her? I hope that she and my mother have made their peace.”

  Ben nodded. “I’m sure they have, honey. Lu never stopped loving Rosalyn. She never gave up hope that they could find each other again.”

  Finally Hayden did see him and smiled for him in appreciation.

  ****

  If she got another peaceful night’s sleep, Hayden would be shocked. But if it were going to happen, this would be the night. The dim green light from Jaycie’s alarm clock displayed the time as ten p.m. Seemed more like three a.m. Hayden stripped out of the black dress and returned it to the pale yellow padded hanger it had been kept on for goodness how many years. Despite the bone-deep weariness and the desire to just crawl under the covers in nothing but the black slip and panties, she took them off and replaced them with a cotton nightgown. Then she allowed herself the luxury of getting into bed. Her eyes remained open, staring straight up at the ceiling. Light from outside bled through the curtains and she could still hear voices coming from below. She shut off the guilt that crept in to her heart. She should’ve remained downstairs until everyone had left. After all, she was the closest relative, but the day had weighed down on her like a ton of granite and had left her more confused than ever.

  From the time the sun rose over the prairie, The Painted Horse Ranch had been inundated by friends and relatives. Hayden had lived life used to only a few close family members and friends; her mother, Carl and his younger sister. But the extent of the Gardner clan astounded and overwhelmed her.

  Rosalyn had been an only child, but Gran had three sisters and two brothers, and Grandpa had been the oldest of ten kids. Scores of cousins, including Sally and her mother, Terese, had streamed in, bringing in platters and casseroles and cakes and mountains of every food imaginable.

  Though Hayden couldn’t keep track of all the names, the warmth and support they showed her, this person who hadn’t been a part of Gran’s life until the very end, couldn’t have been more wonderful. Ben kept himself next to her, through the service at the Burton Lutheran Church and at the cemetery where Gran was at last laid to rest. His strong arm around her waist lent staunch support. Hayden didn’t expect to need his comfort, but was glad for it when tears came out of nowhere and over took her composure.

  She gave into it easily. She’d barely cried when her mother passed away, but now she allowed it and when they finally dried on her cheeks, she felt clear and free of at least a little of the emotional burden she’d carried with her for the past several months.

  Back at The Painted Horse, Hayden faced her relatives, listened, transfixed to the history of her family. When she started to relax a bit, Jesse Ball walked in with his wife, Iris, and daughter, Libby. It’d been the first time she’d seen him since their unsuccessful first meeting. Apparently his wife and daughter knew all about Jesse’s past indiscretions. Though she didn’t exactly look thrilled, Iris Ball certainly hadn’t glared at her with the kind of hostility Hayden expected, and Libby looked more than intrigued.

  The resemblance between Hayden and Libby was too remarkable to be dismissed. Libby, only older than Hayden by less than six months, had the same smile, the same thick dark hair, and if her eyes had been brown she could have been Hayden’s twin. Libby gave her a tentative smile, but didn’t approach.

  Ben pulled Hayden closer to his side and bent his head to hers. “You okay? I hope you don’t mind them being here. It didn’t seem right not to have them.”

  “No, it’s all right,” Hayden replied, sinking against Ben’s strength.

 
; And it had been fine. As fine as it could be anyway as the day lagged into the evening. People still came and went, and with each word of sympathy and well wish, exhaustion pulled Hayden closer and closer to the brink of collapse.

  “You’d best get some sleep.” Hayden’s great Aunt Lita put a cool hand to her cheek. She was her grandfather’s youngest sister.

  “You’re right,” Ben replied and hugged Hayden closer. “Come on, you’re going upstairs.”

  If she’d been more awake she would have protested, but her foggy brain gave into the chance to retreat and rest. She murmured thanks to several of the guests, but Ben pulled her along and helped her upstairs to the room she still occupied next to his.

  “I’m going to lay out a nightgown, but you’ll have to change yourself,” he said with a wink. Hayden wasn’t too tired to blush under the words.

  “Thank you for everything. I would’ve been lost without you.”

  Ben leaned down and kissed her forehead, holding onto her shoulders a moment longer. “It’s okay. We were like family, you’re grandmother and I.”

  “She was lucky to have you.”

  “Shh. Just get into bed now and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  And he left her there, the white nighty clutched to her chest, she wished he didn’t have to leave. But he pulled the door gently shut behind him and left her to her sleepy thoughts.

  And now the last of the guests were leaving. Soon quiet would take over the entire house. Before that happened, though, Hayden’s eyes closed as if pulled down by some invisible weights, and the sound of the voices outside blended together with the internal noise in her head.

  The sound of waves crashing on the ragged Maine shore greeted her. Hayden stood on the walk at the top edge of the lighthouse. Only a slim iron rail stood between her and hundreds of sharp rocks that were jumbled into the ocean below. It was almost hypnotic, the way the waves rushed in, surging around the seaweed-strewn ledge, bubbling up in white frothy foam before they retreated. The surf came in rougher by the moment, though, and suddenly Hayden’s peaceful, hopeful mood ebbed with the inky water below.

  The lightning that danced along the horizon reminded her of the storms on the prairie. It lit the swelling sea in a strobe of charged bluish air before blinking off. In the flashing electrical discharge, Hayden caught a glimpse of sails on the horizon. Before she could identify the ship darkness took over the earth once more.

  Wind picked up and whipped against her face and dress. Hayden, only she really wasn’t Hayden, looked down. The gown she wore was a wedding gown made of ivory velvet. The panic in her heart picked up with the vehemence of the wind that pushed against her.

  Her wedding day, and she stood, the beam of the lighthouse behind her, waiting for her groom.

  A long, blue erratic thread of light jumped from one voluminous thunderhead to the next giving Hayden another glimpse of the ship nearing the Maine coast. Waves pummeled at its sides, tossing it in the air like it weighed no more than a child’s toy.

  Hayden leaned over the railing, the rough, weatherworn metal frigid against the delicate material of the gown on her belly.

  A monstrous wave dashed against the rocks below, breaking into a trillion icy beads of salt water that flew up, with the help of the tempest assaulting the coast. With shrieking fury it belted the lighthouse, pulled and scraped at Hayden.

  “Ben!” She screamed his name, but the gale just threw it back in her face. It was foolish to think that her man could hear her anyway. His ship neared shore, but not close enough for him to hear her, even in the best of conditions. But his name erupted from her throat again and again in a futile attempt to reach him.

  As soon as they touched the lids of her eyes, her tears froze right along with the rain that sliced through the air. Another bolt of lightning, quickly followed by a second, then a third lit the Bonnie Mae for a full three seconds. Enough for Hayden to see the bow strike the breakwater that stretched like a bony finger into the crushing water. The cacophony of thunder, wind and surf couldn’t match the sickening crack of the wooden hull as it shattered against the rocks. Only two other sounds competed against the storms rage, and that was the hellish chorus of cries from the men on the doomed ship, and the last wrenching call for her husband-to-be before Hayden collapsed onto the rain soaked surface of the walk.

  “Ben!”

  ****

  Ben hadn’t been in bed for more than fifteen minutes before he heard Hayden call out his name. Despite the muffled quality of her voice, he could still detect the urgency, the fear emanating from it. Heart pounding, he threw back his covers and was out of his room, ready to break down Hayden’s door if he had to. He hesitated for a moment to knock and called her name, though, but receiving no answer, he shoved it open and rushed in, not sure what he’d find.

  He found her in bed, covers twisted around her legs as if she’d been struggling with them. His pulse picked up its pace at the sight of her nightgown clinging to her body. It had crept up her legs to mid-thigh, revealing a teasing display of flesh. Her face was a grimace and wet with tears and sweat, but she was still asleep. He knelt at her side and put his hand on her shoulder, and shook her gently.

  “Hayden,” he whispered. He didn’t want to wake her too abruptly, but he wanted to pull her out of her nightmare.

  Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and lost.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’m here,” he whispered gently, his hand going to her cheek to push back a lock of dark hair that clung to her damp skin.

  Finally her eyes locked with his, her brows raised. She reached out a hand and placed it on his. It was ice cold.

  “Ben?”

  “Yes. You had a nightmare. Are you all right?”

  Hayden pushed herself up, and propped her body up with one arm while sweeping her hair off her face with the other. Her gaze left his and traveled around the room. She still looked as if she were immersed in her dream, not quite sure what was real.

  “I’m fine,” she confirmed, but her voice was shaky and thin.

  Pale moonlight glistened against her skin, tinting it an iridescent hue that seemed almost unreal and wholly enticing. It took nearly all his strength not to gather her into his arms and make love to her right then and there, but he wouldn’t take advantage of her state of mind.

  “Do you want me to leave?” Ben hoped she’d say no. He remained kneeled at the side of her bed.

  Hayden looked down at him, her eyes so dark he couldn’t read them. Her lips were turned down in a slight frown, as if she were recalling the images that had caused her to yell out for him. He wanted to know what she’d seen, but even more wanted to soothe it away, to make her forget all about it. He wouldn’t do it without her permission, though. She had the opportunity to tell him that she was all right, but he prayed she would tell him she didn’t want to be alone.

  “Could you stay? Maybe just for a little while?” Hayden shifted over on the mattress and moved the sheet back so there was enough room for him to climb in with her. He paused, his heart pounding against his chest in a beat that sounded more like the hooves of a thousand head of cattle. How in hell was he going to manage to lie next to her without making love to her? Yet he couldn’t just say no and walk away. She needed him and he decided right then and there that he could never let her down.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.

  She simply nodded and lay back down, hugging the pillow to her cheek, but kept her eyes on him as he settled onto the bed. He pulled the sheet up over their bodies. Her face fell into shadows and light, but he stared hard at it, the soft curve of her cheek, half cast in moonlight, and the swell of her bottom lip. They faced each other, not touching, not speaking, just feeling. The warmth of her body under the sheet and her soft breath against his face. She must have had her window open because a cool breeze whispered against his shoulder and he caught the muted scent of the prairie mingling with her essence.

  The thrill of being so clos
e to her in such an intimate setting swept like a hot fire from the tips of his ears right down to his toes before climbing up and centering in a tight ball in his middle. It made him want to touch her, to glide his fingertips over every curve of her body.

  “Can you hold me?” Hayden whispered, her breath tickling against his face. “I want you, Ben. Please don’t say no.”

  ****

  With one arm, Ben gathered her up against his chest and kissed the side of her head, his hand caressing her throat and jaw.

  Hayden closed her eyes to Ben’s sensual exploration. His whole body seemed to envelop hers and she let herself drift off under his ministrations.

  Before his lips claimed hers, as his breath tickled her earlobe, Ben whispered in her ear. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she replied, her voice barely a sigh as his hand gathered the material of her nightgown in its urgency to explore her body. The material suddenly seemed as heavy as wool and far too constrictive. The desire to feel his hands on her flesh burned deep within and she eagerly tugged at the nighty until she wriggled it off her body. At last free to allow Ben complete access to every part of her. Her heart skyrocketed with each sweet, hot caress.

  With every kiss, whether it was as light as the moonlight that flooded into the room or as intoxicating and bold as the power of a summer storm, Ben whispered “I love you” against her flesh, his words as physical as his touch.