Mel’s eyes were blank. “I married Lenny before I got my college degree. I finished college. I did both, Jake. I did both. When you left, you took the options away from me. You didn’t let me choose what I wanted.”
What did she want from him? It was all said and done. History. Neither one of them could change a thing.
He came over to where she looked at him through the bars of the stall. He gripped the hard metal and searched her eyes. “Mel, I wanted to marry you. When I came back to Kentucky two years later, I was going to ask you. You were a sophomore then, but you had taken that option away from me. You were already married.”
His palms grew wet. He hated to hurt her. Unfortunately, he’d hurt her before, so that was nothing new to their relationship. “Mel, I did what I did ten years ago because I cared about you. I didn’t expect you to get married. I’m sorry.”
“I might not have gotten married then if you’d said what you’re saying now.” She turned away from him.
Did he imagine the shake of her shoulders? Was that the sound of a sob when she reached the barn door?
* * * *
By the time she’d reached Pop’s white frame house, Mel had controlled her tears. She had not controlled the abject misery in her heart. If she’d only waited. It was a mighty big if. I was such a fool!
At twenty, when she had married Lenny, she’d been under so much pressure from him. Lenny was convenient and persistent. She felt life was passing her by, leaving her in a rut. Now she was angry at herself for being so needy and naive.
If Jake had spoken up, this could have been avoided. If she’d known he wanted to marry her, eventually, some day, she would have told him about the baby. Maybe they could have been a family.
A cold ache settled around Mel’s heart. Her gut ached. Her mind was numb. Those bends in the road, those choices. She had not taken the right one.
When Pop came home, Mel was still sitting in the darkened living room, facing a blank television. The old man flipped on the light, and grumbled, “It is as dark as sin in here, darlin’.”
“I like it like that.” Mel lifted her chin out of the palm of her hand and gazed at her father.
His face did not visibly change, but he came toward her with his shuffling gait. “Weight of the world on them shoulders, huh?”
How did he know? He always knew. Just like the time she and a sixth grade classmate had stolen a candy bar from the drug store. Pop had known then. Maybe her face reflected guilt too easily. Whatever it was, she had to own up to something because Pop would not let it rest.
“I had an argument with Jake,” she said, hoping that would satisfy him.
“Ah, good boy, that one.” Pop eyed her before going on, “Too bad you never forgave him.”
Mel straightened up. “Forgave him for what?”
“Goin’ off to California. Makin’ a name for himself.”
“That was a long time ago, Pop,” she said and settled back with her chin in her hand.
“Some things never forgiven stay with us a long time. We often live to regret it.”
That was all Pop said. That was all he had to say. He left the living room, turning out the light and thrusting Mel back into the darkness she’d created in her own soul.
Chapter Nine
It was Mel’s first day back on the job. Jake found her cleaning Dreamcatcher’s hooves in his stall. With the stallion’s bent leg balanced against her hip and his hoof cupped in her hands, Mel’s derriere presented a pretty, provocative picture.
Swallowing hard, he collected his physical craving, much as he would control a horse before changing gaits. Once he’d flirted with Mel by whistling. This was not the time to play games, not after he’d hurt her again. Mel needed his support, and for once in his life, he was prepared to give it to her.
“Glad to see you’re back,” he said quietly.
She dropped the hoof, stood up, and looked at him, her auburn hair tucked behind her ears and tied with a ribbon. Jake shifted under her appraisal. She appeared so solemn, with dark smudges under her big, hazel eyes. Her face was pale.
“I hope you’re feeling better.” He kept his voice soothing, almost calming as he would speak to a skittish horse.
“Yes, thank you. My butt is fine.”
Jake heard the anger and hurt. He gazed back, assessing her demeanor. Her expression altered as he continued his regard. She became uneasy, almost embarrassed. Slanting him an irritated look, she turned back to her task.
Mel picked up Dreamcatcher’s rear hoof, presenting him with another fine display, her jodhpurs taut against her backside. Was she deliberately insulting him? He made the sound of amusement deep in his throat. Being supportive may be harder than he’d thought.
“Look, Mel, I’m sorry I upset you.”
“Upset me? What you did changed my life.”
“I’m talking about a few days ago, when I told you my real reason for going to California. I didn’t want you to continue thinking it was because of my career.” Jake glanced at his boots. “You’d thrown that up to me one time too many.”
Mel dropped the horse’s hoof, tossed the hoof pick into the grooming box, and came over to him. “I don’t understand why you never told me.”
“I tried to explain it to you,” he said, his gaze now caressing her face.
“But if I’d known...” Mel didn’t finish her sentence and turned away.
Jake felt stupid. What had he been thinking so many years ago? He should have explained himself better. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be undone. He had to go on from here and try to establish a new future with Mel.
She picked up the cotton blanket and lifted it onto Dreamcatcher’s back. Jake helped her pull the light sheet into the place. He hooked the front buckles as she tugged the strap beneath the horse’s barrel.
“We can’t change what happened, Mel, and I’m sorry. I don’t want you to have the wrong impression of me. Now that I’m back, I find I’m still attracted to you. I don’t want to push you, but maybe we can be friends again.”
He’d said what was on his mind, and a weight had lifted off his mind. Jake stepped out of the stall to assess her reaction.
Mel unbuckled the horse’s halter, stripped it off, and unhooked the cross-ties. Picking up the box, she also left the stall and hung the halter on the stall door. Pulling it shut, she turned and elevated her gaze to him. The green and brown flecks of her hazel eyes held him enthralled. The lift of her small chin and the squaring of her shoulders enticed him.
He wanted to kiss her. He couldn’t help it. She had that kind of effect on him, on his mind and his body. His blood raced like a horse first turned out to pasture.
“I still consider you my friend, Jake,” Mel said with quiet dignity. “I suppose we could try being friends.”
Her agreement startled him. He wanted more than friendship. Surely she knew that. Yet this was a good start. Jake smiled at her. The unexpected turn of events now sent his heart galloping.
Mel watched the misplaced dimple pop out under Jake’s left eye when he grinned big and wide. His eyes lit with delight. She couldn’t believe her simple statement had such an effect on him. Disconcerted, she turned toward the tack room with Jake at her heels. He was trying. He had admitted a mistake. He said he cared for her. The thought warmed her as a stab of remorse reminded her of her own lie.
No, it wasn’t a lie. She hadn’t lied to anyone about Cory. She just hadn’t admitted the truth. Her stomach churning with sorrow, she tried to justify her actions to herself. She had good reasons for giving up Cory. What kind of life could she, a single teenage parent, have provided for the child? Her mistake wasn’t going to ruin her daughter’s life. Cory had been blessed with a mom and a dad for the first eight years of her life.
Maybe she shouldn’t judge herself too harshly. After all, she’d only been eighteen and had done what was right at the time, given the circumstances.
All these thoughts swirled in her mind as she hung up the cross-ties.
Jake took the box from her and placed it on the floor. Her daily tasks done, she glanced at Jake. He was quietly watching her. She didn’t know what to say to him. She felt tongue-tied, like a student giving her first speech.
She looked up at him with a tentative smile. “Now what?”
“Good question.” He grinned at her. She wished he would cut it out. His smiles disarmed her, melting her heart and her pain. “We could clean tack,” he said.
That’s not what she’d meant. She had been wondering about their relationship. But if he wanted to help clean their borrowed tack, maybe it was just as well.
One step at a time.
“Okay, sir, grab a sponge and a saddle. I’ll get the new bottle of Neatsfoot Oil from the truck.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied as she went out the door.
Mel didn’t realize how the murky stable shielded them from the early August sunshine. It was still unbearably hot. A slow drop of perspiration dripped between her breasts. She heard the low rumble of thunder in the distance and glanced at the sky. Ominous clouds were forming in the west. For the first time in a long time, she felt good, hopeful. She wanted to enjoy Jake’s company and the tiny bit of truce they had called.
* * * *
They worked together for an hour—sitting on stools in the tack room, cleaning the bridles, bits and saddles and chatting about horses and shows and the heat. Jake wanted this kind of conversation with Mel, one that was normal and easy and mirrored the comfortable companionship they used to have, back when they were in love.
Jake finished with the bridle and set it aside. He glanced at Mel. A bead of perspiration lined her upper lip. Her hands were slick and wet from the Neatsfoot Oil that she had applied to a saddle. She lifted her hand to scratch her nose.
She was so cute with a streak of oil across her nose and a smudge of dirt on her brow.
“Here,” he said and leaned forward with his towel. “This is fairly clean. Let me repair your make-up.”
Mel scowled, but he ignored her and dabbed the blotch on her forehead.
“I can do that myself.” She snatched away the towel.
“A little to the right,” he directed, as she tried to remove the oil from her face. Her efforts only made the smudge worse. “Oh, here,” Jake grumbled.
Scooting his stool nearer, he took the towel from Mel’s hand. Gently he rubbed the smear along her nose, and the one on her forehead. Then he took her wrist, holding up her right hand, and began to wipe each oily finger with the towel, slowly, one at a time. Her hazel eyes darkened with desire. Feeling the throb of arousal, Jake sucked in his breath. His gaze searched her face, almost desperate for confirmation. Did she feel it too? This pull, this attraction? As if they had never been apart.
“I like truces,” he murmured as his grip tightened on her wrist.
Jake pulled Mel forward. When she didn’t resist, he touched his lips to hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her lips parted under his pressure. Her response sent his stomach diving. He let go of her wrist and grabbed her shoulders. Tugging Mel toward him, he put her on his lap, and she coiled her arms around his neck. Deepening his kiss, he tasted the saltiness of her lip and darted his tongue into the depths of her mouth. Light-headed and excited, he clutched her to his chest.
Mel found it hard to breath. Jake consumed her senses. Just the feel of him beneath her, around her, caused her stomach to plummet and her heart to soar. He was so insistent, ardent, and his urgency increased hers. She kissed him back unable to get enough of him. Her mouth opened to his slashing tongue, and she took it in greedily, coveting every part of him.
Jake moved slightly, and she felt his hardness beneath his jodhpurs. He moved again, and slipped his hand up her t-shirt. His fingers scorched her damp skin, sending flames of desire downward through her body. She gasped against his lips. He drew a quick breath and assaulted her mouth again. When he touched her bra, running a finger underneath it to massage her suddenly hard nipple, Mel squirmed with a pulsing, driving need.
“Oh, Jake,” she moaned into his mouth.
He clutched her whole breast then, his breathing pounding in her ear. “God, Mel,” he murmured. “I can’t believe this. It’s so good.”
It was good. Mel knew it. Just as she knew that if they didn’t stop, they’d end up on the tack room floor. But she didn’t care. She was older now, wiser. She could handle him, and she felt surprisingly feminine and desirable.
In a heartbeat, he held her mouth with his, and then released it. Almost sitting her away from him, although she still had her arms secure around his neck, he searched her eyes. Mel looked back at him, at the sky blue of his eyes, wanting to see into his soul, wanting to read what was in his mind. He swallowed hard, his breathing still coming quickly.
“Mel, I…”
Dave interrupted by running into the tack room. “Jake!”
Mel jumped out of Jake’s lap and stared guiltily at the little groom. Fortunately, he didn’t notice their compromising position.
“The sheriff phoned,” he said out of breath. “A horse was struck by a train near the railroad crossing. He thinks it was one of ours,” Dave explained, his voice raising an octave.
Jake stood up. “What?”
“The sheriff said the horse must have jumped a fence.”
“If he’s talking about one of the mares in the north pasture, that doesn’t make sense,” Jake said, and looked at Mel for confirmation “Those horses don’t jump fences.”
“With all that’s been happening around here, I wonder if someone turned them out,” Mel thought out loud. She didn’t say her ex-husband’s name, but a familiar uneasiness clutched her.
“Damn.” Jake glanced at Dave. “You go out to the crossing. Take Pop with you. He’ll know if it’s one of ours. Mel and I will ride up to the north pasture and see what we can find out.”
As a boom of thunder rattled the barn, Dave turned to leave. “With this rain coming on, better take Mel’s four-wheel drive,” he suggested.
Mel agreed with a quick nod. “Dave, take your cell phone and call me,” Jake said.
Mel grabbed the keys from her purse and tossed a rain poncho over her head. Jake picked up his and followed her to the Jeep.
“Want to drive?” Mel asked, ready to toss him the keys.
Jake shook his head. “You know the way better than I do.”
They climbed into the four-wheel drive as the first drops of rain began to fall. By the time they’d reached the north pasture, the wind had risen, and driving rain hit against the windshield. The wipers clacked, clacked back and forth, not offering much help, Mel straining to se. The vehicle bumped over the bluegrass field.
Driving slowly along the perimeter of the fence, she considered the situation. Royalty Farm could not continue suffering such loses. Too much was at stake. Although Vanessa had never said anything, Mel felt her friend was close to giving in to that scummy realtor. Bert Noble’s eldest daughter didn’t have the love of the farm like her father or his adopted daughter, Cory. Mel wanted to preserve the farm for the little girl. She gripped the steering wheel and peered through the windshield, fear grinding in the pit of her stomach.
“There’s the break,” Jake said in a low voice.
Mel pulled to a stop, put the truck in park, and stared at the opening in the weather-beaten, white rail fence.
“Damn. Someone’s removed the boards.”
Even in the darkness caused by the downpour, Mel saw tenseness in the way Jake’s mouth was set. Her knuckles were white as she continued to grip the wheel. She imagined how he felt, and she wanted to reach out and comfort him.
Looking away, she wished he would reach out and give her comfort, tell her everything would be okay—that they’d find this evil person who was ruining Royalty Farm—that somehow, some day, they would be a couple again, even a family.
“I’ll see what I can do to fix the break,” Jake said. “You stay here.”
Mel opened her mouth to protest, but he was alrea
dy gone. Watching through the rain-clobbered windshield, she saw him lift the railing in place. When he struggled to hold the railing and swing the hammer at the same time, Mel threw open the door and went to help.
“I told you to stay inside,” he yelled above the noise of the rain.
“Oh, shut up,” she growled. “I’ll hold the board. You hammer.”
Jake cast a surprised look, but allowed her to take the railing from him. In a few minutes, the fence was back in some sort of repair, and they retreated to the truck.
“Thanks,” he said, pushing back the hood of his poncho. Water dripped from his face and hair.
“No problem,” she muttered.
His gaze was bothersome. Her pulse leaped in response. To cover her reaction, she turned on the ignition and put her hand on the stick.
“Really.” His voice was like warm wine. “I appreciate your help. I’m glad we’re a team again.”
Jake covered her hand with his. Mel trembled at his touch. Maybe it was the cold rain, she tried to tell herself, knowing full well it was the feel of his fingers on hers. She didn’t know what to say to him. What did he want from her? What did she want from him? Before she could overcome her uneasiness, the cell phone rang, and Jake lifted his hand to answer it.
“Yes,” he acknowledged, not removing his gaze from her face.
Mel barely heard his responses to the person on the phone, because she was so focused on his eyes. They seemed to bore a hole through the mask of antagonism she wore to cover her hurt. They worked on her heart, melting its icy cold and replacing it with a bubbling cauldron of desire.
“Okay, we’ll go by the shed and see how many we can find.” Jake put down the receiver. Shifting in his seat, and looking away, he ran his hand through his hair. “That was Dave.”
“Yeah?”
Jake looked back at her. “He said Pop identified the mare as one in foal to Royalty’s Reverie.”
Mel cursed inwardly and shut her eyes. This was a double tragedy. A prize mare in foal. She swallowed hard and opened her eyes to find Jake’s gaze still on hers.
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