Tucked Away

by Jennie Marts

  Elizabeth turned her gaze to the front window overlooking the farm. “Or it might just be this state. Now that I’m back, I can feel it. Something about Montana gets under your skin. It changes you.”

  It must. Because she had never heard her mother utter a sincere apology in her life. And Charlie believed her. She did feel different since she’d been in Montana. Maybe she was changing. Maybe they both were.

  Chapter Eight

  The horn beeped as Charlie grabbed the plastic container of cookies off the counter. It was Saturday morning, and she’d heard Zack’s truck pull into the driveway as she swooshed a last layer of mascara across her lashes.

  She was dressed in khaki shorts, tennis shoes, and a short-sleeved button-up shirt she’d found in Gigi’s closet. It still had the price tags on it, making Charlie wonder if it’d been a gift or if Gigi had purchased it for herself and never had the chance to wear it. It was a plaid print in shades of pink and purple with pearly pink snaps up the front. Charlie wore it open over a white camisole, the colors showing off her recent tan, acquired from spending so much time outdoors.

  Charlie pulled the front door shut behind her. She ran down the porch stairs and met Sophie halfway to the truck in a giant hug. “Happy birthday, Sophie.”

  Sophie beamed at her, squeezing her around the middle and practically shaking with excitement. “I’m so glad you’re coming with us. I can’t wait to see what my present is. Dad won’t tell me anything.”

  “Well, I don’t know anything, either.” She handed the plastic container to Sophie. “Except that I’m glad to be included in your birthday, and my mom made some peanut butter cookies for you.”

  Sophie tipped the dish to see through the plastic. “Yum. I love peanut butter. They look delicious. We can eat them on the way.”

  The teenager grabbed her hand and pulled her around the front of the truck. Sophie opened the door and gestured for her to get in.

  Charlie looked into the smiling face of the man who had filled her last few nights with steamy fantasies and couldn’t help but grin foolishly back. “Hi, Zack.”

  “Hey, Charlie.” He reached out a hand and pulled her up into the cab.

  She slid across the bench seat to make room for Sophie to climb in after her. Her leg rested against Zack’s, and a delicious thrill went through her as he leaned down and whispered into her ear. “You look good enough to eat.”

  Sophie pulled the truck door closed and hopped up and down in her seat. “Okay. I’m ready. Let’s go get my present.”

  Zack laughed and reached an arm around her shoulders to tug on his daughter’s braid. “All right, kiddo. Get your seat belt on, and let’s go get some lunch.”

  He stretched across Charlie’s lap, his chest against hers as he dug into the seat searching for the lap belt. Her face warmed as he pulled it across her lap, securing the latch with a click. “Thanks.”

  Sophie clicked her own belt into place, then held her hands out in front of Charlie. “Check out my new manicure. I did it myself. I couldn’t decide if I wanted pink or purple for my birthday nails, so I did every other one.”

  She admired the girl’s multi-colored fingernails and tried not to think about the heat emanating from Zack’s arm where it rested against her bare thigh. “I love them. You did a great job.”

  “Want me to do yours later? I can paint them to match mine.”

  “Sure, that would be fun.”

  “How about mine?” Zack held up his hand and wiggled his fingers at his daughter. “What color should I get?”

  “Oh, Dad.” Sophie rolled her eyes at her father, then swatted playfully at his hand as he tried to tickle her.

  Charlie held her breath. So many emotions ran through her as she watched the playful exchange between Zack and his daughter, coupled with the sensations of his muscled arm as it crossed her stomach to goof with Sophie. The fine blond hairs on his arm tickled the bare skin of her legs, and she felt alive with every sensation of the nearness of him.

  He pulled his arm back and settled his hand on top of Charlie’s, linking his fingers with hers.

  Sophie launched into a story about a basketball game at the high school, but Charlie only heard about half of her words. All of her focus was on the feel of Zack’s hand holding hers. The weight of it against her lap, the spark of connection between their skin, and the way he absently stroked his thumb along the side of her fingers, all combined to send delicious shivers up her spine.

  She tried to hold perfectly still, afraid that, if she moved, the spell would be broken, and he would let go of her hand.

  Charlie released her breath and tried to calm her racing heart. How could such a small and simple gesture like holding her hand send her into such a tailspin of emotion? She tried to remember the last time a man had held her hand, just for the sake of touching her and connecting to her.

  And she did feel connected to Zack. To both Zack and Sophie. Maybe her heart was racing, not only due to the closeness of this incredibly sexy man, but due to the awareness that she was being allowed into the inner sanctum of a family.

  Zack had told her the night of the storm that he didn’t bring women to their home. She got the feeling that he didn’t bring women into their lives at all. Her heart soared with the knowledge that he was trusting her enough to spend time with his daughter and to be a part of their family.

  But what if she didn’t live up to their expectations? She had no idea how a normal family worked. She had no grandparents or extended family to witness. Her only model of family was the tenuous relationship she had with her mother, who recently admitted to having a whole other life that she’d never shared with her.

  What if she messed this up? She couldn’t bear to think about hurting Zack or this teenage girl who so willingly extended her heart to her. Or worse. What if he wasn’t the man she was making him out to be? How could she trust another man with her heart when her recent judgment of character seemed to be sorely lacking? How could she survive if he broke her heart?

  As if he could read her mind, he leaned his head sideways and whispered into her ear, “It’s okay, babe. I got you.” He squeezed her hand in reassurance, and her heart melted at the sincerity in his eyes as he looked down at her. “We’re just going to lunch.”

  She returned his smile, took a deep breath, and squeezed his hand back as his eyes returned to watching the road. Geez. Calm down, girl. He was right. They were just going to lunch, not driving to the altar. She’d committed to milkshakes and fries today, not wedding bells and flower bouquets. She could do this. Just enjoy the moment. One day at a time.

  “Oh, I lovvvvveeee this song.” Sophie reached across her and turned up the radio. She belted out the lyrics to a familiar top-forty tune, breaking the spell of Charlie’s fears.

  The enthusiastic spirit of this precious girl was contagious, and a laugh escaped Charlie’s lips. She recalled the tender moment she’d shared with Zack as they bathed and sang to a wounded dog. Enjoy the moment.

  Shaking her head, she inhaled and joined in on the chorus. Singing with abandon, she released the joy she felt as she drove down the road on a warm summer day. She was in a pickup truck, holding hands with a sexy cowboy, the promise of a fun day stretching ahead of them like the ripples on the warm blacktop of highway. She let her worries go and just sang.

  …

  Zack pulled the truck into the long driveway of an old farmhouse. A dilapidated barn sat opposite the house, and several dozen head of cattle stood in the attached corral. Next to the barn, an old rusted-out blue pickup sat on concrete blocks, grass and weeds pushing up around it as if clamoring for a ride. The writer in her imagined the tales that pickup had to tell.

  A full stomach of fries and a double cheeseburger did nothing to dampen the enthusiasm of Sophie, who nearly levitated off her seat in excitement.

  A man in his mid-sixties, clad in coveralls and black rubber over-boots, emerged from the farmhouse and waved at them. Zack turned off the truck engine and got out
, extending his hand in greeting to the farmer.

  Sophie gripped her leg. “Oh, Charlie. I am soooo excited. I think I might wet my pants.”

  Wrapping her arms around the girl, she pulled her into a tight hug.

  Squeezing her back, Sophie whispered into her ear, as if saying the words too loudly would jinx the result. “It’s probably not, but I’m so hoping it’s a puppy.”

  An odd prickling of emotion filled her as she was overwhelmed with love for this special girl who was hoping so desperately for an unconditional friend. “Let’s get out of the truck and go see.”

  The two climbed from the cab of the pickup, and Zack introduced them to the farmer. “Girls, this is Jim Buchanan. Jim, you might remember my daughter, Sophie, and this is Charlie Ryan. She’s Gigi’s granddaughter.”

  Jim held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Charlie. I thought quite highly of your grandmother. She was a fine woman, and I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.” She shook the farmer’s hand, resigning herself to the fact that her introduction now seemed to always include something about being related to Gigi.

  The farmer winked at her, then turned his attention to Sophie. “You probably wouldn’t remember me. The last time I saw you down at the vet clinic, you were just a little bugger. I hear that you’re celebrating a birthday today.”

  Sophie’s body shook with the excitement similar to a hyper Chihuahua. “Yes, sir. I’m pleased to see you again.”

  Zack laughed out loud before pulling his daughter into a warm embrace. He kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go get your present.”

  He took his daughter’s hand, and they followed Jim into the barn. The air inside was warm and filled with the scents of hay, manure, and leather. Jim led them to a stall where a gorgeous brown horse stood munching hay.

  Zack put his hand on the stall door. “What do you think?”

  Sophie scanned the floor of the stall, as if searching the ground for a litter of puppies. Seeing nothing but hay, she turned back to her father. “I don’t get it.”

  He took her face in his hands and directed it to the horse. “I want you to meet Gypsy. She’s a ten-year-old mare, and she is now yours.”

  The teenage girl’s eyes went wide with amazement, then she looked at Zack as those same eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Daddy.” She threw her arms around her father and broke into shoulder-shaking sobs.

  Zack stood in stunned confusion, his daughter crying into his chest. He tipped Sophie’s face up to look into her eyes. “What’s wrong, honey? Don’t you like her?”

  Sophie wiped her arm across her running nose. “Oh, Daddy, I love her. I just can’t believe it. I was hoping for a puppy, and you got me a horse!”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “I don’t know.” She looked up at her father, love and wonder shining in her eyes. “I had so much happy inside of me, I couldn’t contain it, and it came out as crying.” Her face broke into a silly grin. “I’m good now, though.”

  He shook his head in bewilderment. “Women.”

  “Can I go in and see her?” Sophie already had one hand on the stall latch, lifting it to release the door.

  “Sure. Just be careful.”

  She let out a huff of annoyance and did another eye roll, effectively going from six-year-old daddy’s girl to half-grown woman in a split second. “Da-ad, I know what I’m doing.”

  Sophie stepped into the stall and approached the horse carefully. Gypsy’s large brown eyes watched the girl approach and seemed to assess her new owner. She ran her hand down the horse’s neck and cooed encouraging words. The horse’s ears twitched, as if it were listening.

  Charlie stood in the background, watching the scene with a giant lump in her throat. She swallowed back the tears, the emotions of watching the touching scene of affection between father and daughter too much for her to contain.

  She had never witnessed such an open moment of love and sincerity between any two people. The father-daughter relationship was such a foreign concept to her, having never met her own father. She hadn’t realized what she was missing out on until this very moment, and suddenly the ache in her heart for the father who’d abandoned her was a tangible pain.

  Seeing Zack with Sophie made her wonder about her own dad. What had she done to make him completely absent from her life? His mother had searched for her, maybe he’d also searched. She recalled young girl fantasies of her father showing up at a birthday party or Christmas, but too many disappointing holidays drove those wishes into a dark closet where hope that her dad wanted her, or thought about her, refused to live.

  Witnessing this act of love from Zack had Charlie conflicted, her feelings of sadness giving way to deep resentment and anger at the man who never bothered to send her a birthday card or pick up a phone to hear her voice.

  Suddenly the barn, its earlier warmth once cozy, now seemed stifling, and she turned and rushed outside, gulping in giant breaths of honeysuckle-scented air. She leaned forward, supporting herself with her hands on her knees.

  A comforting hand on her back had her turning, and she buried her face in Zack’s neck. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, the floodgates loosened, and she found herself sobbing into his shoulder. She cried for the little girl who never had a daddy to make her birthday wishes come true. And she cried for the woman who was afraid to count on this man who knew how to love and whose only goal for the day was his daughter’s happiness.

  Zack patted her back and whispered soft words into her ear. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s gonna be fine.”

  She pulled back and took a deep breath, horrified at the wet stain of tears visible on his shoulder. She wiped at the damp spot on his shoulder. “Sorry.”

  He took her hand and held it in his. “Hey. Look at me. It’s all good. Don’t worry about that. I’ve had much worse on my shirt.”

  She squeezed his hand, taking comfort and courage in his simple gesture. “I’m okay. Just watching you and Sophie got me all choked up in there. Sorry. I’m just being silly. I don’t want to ruin the fun.”

  “You’re not ruining anything. I am the father of a teenage daughter. I’m used to dealing with tears, rage, sadness and happiness, all in the same span of ten minutes. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

  She took a deep breath. “I’m fine. Honestly, I hardly ever cry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Well, that was a pretty touching scene with Sophie and that horse. She almost made me cry.” He laughed. “Don’t worry about it. It’s natural to see something like that and miss your dad.”

  Geez. How did he always seem to know what she was thinking? “That’s just it. How can I miss someone I’ve never met? How can I mourn a moment that I have never even been a part of?”

  “I don’t know the answer, babe.” He pulled her against him, wrapping her in his big arms. “But I wonder if that’s part of why Sophie connects with you. Because she understands that loss of a parent walking out on a child.”

  She gasped. She hadn’t made that connection, but her heart now ached for the precious girl who was turning fourteen with no mother to show her how to do her hair or explain about boys. She squeezed Zack, then pushed back and wiped her eyes, ready to put this weeping nonsense behind her.

  “I think you may be right. So, I’m going to stop blubbering and feeling sorry for myself and make sure Sophie has the best birthday a girl could ask for.” She slipped her hand into his as they headed back into the barn.

  “What a day. Not even three o’clock and I’ve made two women cry. And all I wanted to do was see a man about a horse.”

  She raised her eyebrow at his bad joke, then laughed. Let go of the past. Live in the moment. And what a moment this was shaping up to be.

  …

  “I’ll have the steaks ready in about fifteen minutes,” Cash hollered at the group standing in the barn.

  Charlie, Zack, Sophie, and Buckshot were admiring Gypsy as she stood eating hay in her new s
tall. Zack had arranged for the horse to board at Gigi’s. With the extra pasture land for grazing and the space in the barn, it made more sense for the horse to stay here.

  Buckshot snuck a sugar cube to the pony, then turned to the group. “We better head in. Lizzie Jean has been baking all afternoon, and she’s not gonna be happy if we’re late.”

  Sophie jumped down from the corral post and brushed off her hands. She and Buckshot headed for the barn door.

  Zack reached for Charlie’s hand, holding her in place. “We’ll be there in a minute. I need to ask Charlie about something.”

  She turned to face him. “What did you want—?”

  Before she could finish her question, his arms were around her, pressing her back against the wall. His mouth took hers in a hungry assault as his hands skimmed down her backside, cupping her bottom and pulling her hips up to meet his. “You, baby. You’re what I want.”

  His words sent a thrill racing through her blood as she matched his passion, driving her hands through his hair and arching her pelvis into his. The hard muscles of his chest pushed her against the wall, and she curled her leg around his, drawing him closer.

  Sliding his hand up her side and along the underside of her arm, he laced his fingers through hers. Taking her hand from around his neck, he pushed it above her head, his breath ragged as he feasted on her mouth.

  She couldn’t believe the animal lust she felt for this man. She loved the feel of her hand pinned above her head, the contrast of the controlling gesture coupled with the intimate linking of their fingers gave her an unexpected thrill.

  “You are making me crazy, Charlie.” He spoke into her ear, his breath hot against her neck as he fought to inhale. “Whenever I’m around you, I just want to be touching you. It about did me in this afternoon to have you sitting next to me in the truck. The smell of your hair was making me insane, and having your bare leg next to mine and not being able to run my hand up your thigh was torture.”

  Every word he said sent rivulets of pleasure through her body. No one had ever spoken so plainly about their desire for her. She’d heard words of passion, of course, but nothing as raw and honest as the way he spoke about the scent of her hair.