Mending Fences

by Lucy Francis

  “I told you. Love her. If you don’t, it won’t work, and frankly, I won’t help you.”

  Love her. How? His heart was too hard; he’d kept it that way rather than lose his ability to concentrate on work every time a relationship ended. He didn’t have time for injured feelings, so he never let any feelings build.

  Wasn’t this constant ache for her proof that he’d slipped, that she’d gotten under his skin? “I’m serious about this, Kel. What do I do?”

  “Let her in. You’re good at keeping people out of your heart, while you demand they let you into theirs. You try to dissect them, to find out everything—”

  “No, I don’t.”

  She laughed. “Curran, you did it to me. That’s how you operate.”

  When he didn’t reply, she said, “You have to let her in. Open yourself up to be hurt. You can’t feel deeply if you continue shielding yourself. And you can’t ask for something from her that you’re not willing to give.”

  He rubbed his eyes. Kelli made a lot of sense. He didn’t like what she said, but he couldn’t argue with it, either. Only one question remained to ask himself. Did he want her enough to lay himself open?

  “I’m going to bed.” Curran switched the phone to his other ear and rose from the couch. “I need to get some sleep so I can think clearly.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t make this decision with your head, Curran. Maybe this should be the one decision you make with your heart. Just a suggestion.”

  “Duly noted.”

  Curran found sleep quickly once he climbed into bed. When he awoke late that afternoon, the wisps of dreams floating in his head combined with the ache in his heart to tell him what he needed to do. Now, how did he talk Victoria into giving them a chance to start over?

  Three days after a storm had dumped an extra twenty inches of snow in the mountains, Victoria stopped by the post office to pick up a package. She’d missed delivery while picking up groceries a day earlier. The clerk returned with a box that was too big to fit in the mailbox. Victoria left the counter and waited until she had the SUV turned on and the heater blasting before she examined the box.

  It was postmarked in San Diego.

  Nate was at it again.

  She hesitated, her heart pounding. She wanted nothing more than to toss the box in the garbage unopened. Her need to know what he was up to made her pull open the pocketknife on her keychain. She slid the blade through the packing tape, then took a deep breath and opened the box.

  She withdrew a note, a toy truck and a rag doll from the shredded paper filling the package. The note was far longer than the others.

  I want to see the child. Does he look like me? Or does she look like you?

  Bring him, her, whatever. Come see me, we can get married in the chapel here.

  We can be a family.

  The air vanished from her lungs. He didn’t know. He thought she’d kept the baby.

  She didn’t have the resources to raise a child on her own. She knew she wouldn’t be able to look at her son without seeing Nate. A child deserved more than that, deserved a solid home, with both parents who loved it and wanted it, and a fenced yard and a dog. She’d given her child those things.

  And she’d saved her son from his father. She was glad she’d let him go. He would never have to face the devil behind Nate’s handsomely chiseled features.

  She drove behind the corner gas station to the dumpster. She ripped the note into a dozen pieces, then threw the toys, the box and the paper into the garbage. She drove home on autopilot, trying to forget about the package, until she pulled into the driveway and found the left side filled by Curran’s truck.

  Nate’s latest ploy left her drained. Pulling up the energy for sparring with Curran was impossible with her reserves emptied.

  He opened his truck door and climbed out when she did. He let her walk past, then he followed her onto the porch.

  She unlocked the door and drew a deep breath before turning to Curran. He didn’t appear his normal, confident self. He stood with his hands buried in his pockets, his shoulders slightly rounded. He clearly hadn’t shaved today, and the shadows under his eyes told her he hadn’t slept much recently.

  The sight of him looking so out of sorts made her heart twinge. She’d sworn to herself she wouldn’t miss him any longer. Did she really think she could turn off her feelings that easily?

  He gave her a half-smile, but didn’t quite meet her gaze. “I know you’re not thrilled to see me.”

  No, she wasn’t, but that didn’t stop her soul from yearning, tugging her emotions out of their hiding place like a crocus surfacing to early spring sunshine. “I can think of people I’d rather see. I suppose you want to come in?”

  “For a moment. I have some things I need to say to you.”

  Victoria shrugged. She doubted he could hurt her any more than he already had. Being polite wouldn’t kill her. “All right.” She opened the door and hung her coat and purse in the closet, then led Curran into the living room. She faced him, crossing her arms before her. Her heart thumped in anticipation, though part of her feared what he might say.

  Curran nodded toward the love seat, the largest piece of furniture in the elegant burgundy room. “Will you sit with me?”

  “Go ahead. I’ll stand.” If he touched her again, in this drained state, she’d shatter.

  His gaze dropped to his boots, then he nodded. He drew a deep breath and looked up, his eyes capturing hers. The swirl of blatant emotion in his normally composed gaze shocked her.

  “I, uh…damn. I’m not good at this. But I wanted to apologize. I’ve not been careful of your feelings. You’re right, I was a jerk. Actually I was a lot worse than that. I truly am sorry.”

  She doused the internal spark of hope. “You’re forgiven, Curran. I owe you an apology too. I should have been upfront about the article.”

  He nodded. “Apology accepted.”

  Okay, that cleared the air, right? “Good. Now we can go our separate ways without these things hanging over our heads.”

  His head jerked back. “Go our separate ways? I don’t want…I mean, um, is that what you want?”

  She couldn’t answer. Her throat constricted so hard she could barely breathe, let alone say anything. He stepped toward her. “I’ll do whatever you ask, Victoria. I’ll leave you alone, if it’s what you really want.”

  She gripped her arms tighter, wanting to say no, wanting to beg him to stay. “Do you want to start over?”

  “What I want doesn’t matter. What do you want?”

  She shivered, fighting the intense need for him, trying to use her brain for once. “I don’t know.”

  His crestfallen expression broke her heart. He nodded, looked at the floor. “I suppose that’s my cue to leave, then.” He walked to the door, pulled it open. “You know where to find me, Victoria. If you ever need anything, I’ll be there.”

  He stepped out, closed the door behind him. The click of the latch ripped through the protective bands around her heart and set her feet free. She ran to the door, yanked it open.

  “Curran.” Oh, she had to be completely insane to subject herself to this again.

  He turned at the foot of the stairs. “Yeah?”

  “Do you have a plan for starting over?”

  Relief flooded his eyes as he climbed the stairs to reach her. “Nothing specific. Dating. Taking it slow.” He leaned against the post supporting the porch roof, ran a hand through his hair. “Victoria, I am truly sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You came over here that day to chastise me and break up with me, and it never occurred to you I might be hurt?”

  He leveled his gaze at her. “You have to understand something. Whenever I’ve dated a woman, it’s been with the understanding that it was all fun and games, and when it ended, that was it. No hard feelings, we both just walk away. Remember, that first day at my place, before you rode off. I told you if things got too complex for you, end the re
lationship. That’s the way it always worked.”

  “Sorry I wasn’t sophisticated enough to pick up on the don’t-get-emotionally-involved angle of dating you.” She heard the bitterness in her voice, but didn’t bother to soften it.

  “Dammit, that’s not what I mean. I never expected this thing between us to become so different from what I was accustomed to.”

  “Different how?”

  “No one ever cared enough to be hurt by me, just pissed off.” He stepped toward her. “I never cared enough to be hurt before.”

  She desperately wanted to believe she was different, unique from the other women in his life. “Do you hurt now?”

  His eyes darkened, as if her very words pained him. “God, yes.” He drew a shaky breath. “Victoria, I’m walking on totally unfamiliar ground with you.”

  Now there was something she could relate to. But if Curran could bare this small part of his soul to her, the least she could do in return was take another chance. “Maybe it’s best to walk unfamiliar ground together. I’m willing to start over if you are.”

  Curran smiled, some of the shadows lifting from his eyes. “I can’t promise I won’t screw up a few dozen times.”

  “Neither can I.”

  He reached out and grasped her hand. She squeezed his fingers in return but retreated a step when he slid a hand behind her neck as if he meant to kiss her. She shook her head in response to his confused expression. “Take it slow, Curran. I’m too raw to pick up right where we left off.”

  He released her and raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, no worries. Since we’re going slow, may I call you tomorrow?”

  Had a guy ever asked if he could call her? “Sure, I’d like that.”

  Curran gave her a wave, then strode off to his truck. She watched him back out of the drive before she retreated into the house.

  They were starting over. She didn’t know which feeling was stronger, the elation, or the dread.

  Chapter Eleven

  Curran promised he’d take their relationship slow, and he followed through. He called Victoria every couple of days over the next week. As much as he disliked phoning women, fishing for something to say after the first five minutes, he found himself eager to call her. Somehow, they found things to talk about for more than an hour at a stretch, covering everything from the activities of the day to their earliest childhood memories. With Victoria, each call was an adventure, an exploration.

  Finally, when the gnawing need to see her grew too great to subdue, he picked up Chinese takeout and rang Victoria’s doorbell at half past six.

  When she opened the door, his heart leapt. She stood in bare feet, wearing blue flannel pajama pants, an oversized white sweatshirt with sleeves long enough that her fingers just peeked from the ends. She pushed her riotous curls out of her eyes and grinned at him.

  Her smile lightened his heart. “Tell me you haven’t eaten.”

  She laughed. “Come in.”

  He stepped into the house. “You mean I don’t have to convince you to have dinner with me?”

  She shrugged and waved him into the dining room. “I thought about teasing you, but I’m too hungry to follow through.”

  Curran set the bags of food and the thermos on the table, then took off his leather jacket. “Long day at the office, honey?”

  She met him at the table with plates, serving spoons, and cups. “Yeah, productive though. What’s in the thermos?”

  “Jasmine tea.”

  Delight brightened her eyes. “You remembered! Great night for it, too. I can’t seem to get warm today.”

  I can think of ways to warm you. Curran swallowed that thought, shaking his head to clear the image of exactly how he’d warm her in his bed. He pulled the food boxes from the bags and opened everything on the table. He broke out the chopsticks and they filled their plates. “How’s the feature on the quilting lady?”

  She swallowed a bite of Kung Pao chicken. “Great, almost finished, well ahead of deadline.”

  “I’m impressed. Any inspiration on chapter eighteen?”

  “Nope, still stuck. I’m thinking of jumping over the scene at the train station and writing a later scene, just to keep the juices flowing. I’ll figure it out eventually.”

  “I’m certain you will.” He smiled, then took a drink and dug into his lo mein.

  The way her brain cooked up fiction fascinated him. His own creativity extended no further than occasional pranks and schemes he pulled off as a kid. Some called his approach to business imaginative, but knowing how to work people until they came around to his way of thinking wasn’t on the same plane as Victoria’s inventiveness.

  They ate and chatted until, during a moment of silence, they heard Sassy scrabbling loudly in her cage. Victoria excused herself to see to her pet, and Curran watched her walk down the hall, the gentle sway of her hips leaving his mouth bone dry.

  A few moments later, the rat came rolling into the room in her exercise ball. Sassy bumped against Curran’s foot and paused to look up at him. He waved. “G’day, Sassafras.” She blinked, then rolled on her merry way.

  Victoria rejoined him and swallowed the last of her tea. After a moment, she sighed. “I talked to Kelli today. I guess she’s taking a trip home in May.”

  “For Mum and Jack’s anniversary, yeah.” He finished off his egg roll, watching Victoria push the few remaining noodles around her plate with her chopsticks. When her teeth caught her bottom lip, he pushed his plate forward and crossed his arms, leaning on the edge of the table. “What?”

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Hmm?”

  “You’re chewing on your lip. What are you trying not to say?”

  “It’s nothing.” She stood and picked up her plate.

  He followed her into the kitchen with his own plate, placing it in the sink. He knew what was going on in her head. The few times they had spoken of Australia, he’d been vague. Her detail-oriented mind didn’t handle vague very well, and knowing Kel was going back probably had Victoria’s brain in a stew.

  She refilled her teacup and headed for the great room. He grabbed his own cup and followed her, nearly tripping over Sassy as she rolled ahead of him.

  He sat opposite Victoria on the comfortable leather couch and studied her as she mulled her thoughts. “Just ask and get it over with.”

  She gave him a sheepish smile. “You don’t have to answer.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “Why don’t you go home for a visit? I’m sure your mother wants to see you, even if there were problems in the past.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’ve been talking to my sister about more than her vacation plans.”

  “I didn’t ask, Curran, she just told me one day how strained the relationship with your mother is, and that you haven’t been back because you’re stubborn.”

  Terrific. He blew out a breath and ran his hand over his face, then through his hair. “Kel made up her own explanation about why I don’t go home because I’ve never given her a straight answer on not going back.”

  Victoria’s brow creased, her eyes reflecting concern and confusion, but she waited for him to continue.

  He didn’t particularly want to talk about this. Yet, what had Kelli told him? If he wanted her to love him, he had to let her in. Well, hell, if he couldn’t tell her something this simple, stupid though it made him feel, he had no business trying to get closer to her.

  “I can’t go home, Victoria.”

  “Why not?”

  “I literally, physically can’t.”

  She cocked her head at him. “I don’t follow you.”

  Why did it make his heart pound just to think about it? He rubbed his suddenly clammy palms on his jeans. “I can’t get on the plane.”

  “Are you saying you’re afraid to fly?”

  He swallowed hard, the very image of sitting on a plane to Australia making him sweat. “Yeah.”

  She shook her head. “Curran, you used to fly all over the pla
ce when you were at DCS GlobalTech.”

  “All over the country, yes. To Canada. Even points south, if the flight was well planned.”

  The understanding light in her eyes told him she’d connected the dots. “You’re afraid of flying over the ocean.”

  “I’ve tried over the years. Time comes to board the plane and my feet freeze. If I manage to move, I suddenly can’t breathe.”

  “Panic attacks.”

  He nodded, watching her face for signs of rejection. Finding only warmth there, relief flooded through him.

  Victoria tapped her index finger against her chin. “I know the company held annual conferences in London and Tokyo.”

  “Yes, and I was always conveniently busy, available only via satellite. I sent Jamie.”

  “But, if you’re afraid to fly over the ocean, how did you get to the U.S. in the first place?”

  He hated the memory of that flight. “That’s where it started. I was nervous about the flight anyway, when my father made me leave Australia with him. In the air, I calmed down a bit, actually didn’t mind the flight too much until we flew into some turbulence. It got severe all of a sudden and dropped us a good five thousand feet in a few seconds.”

  The terror of that drop surfaced sharply inside him. “When we flew out of the clouds, I looked out the window. Nothing but ocean in any direction. I realized that if we went down, we’d be a thousand miles from anywhere. If I didn’t die in the impact or drown, I’d be left trying to swim for my life, avoiding sharks and God knows what else, for however long it would take for a rescue.”

  She set her teacup on the end table and reached out to him, clasping his hand in hers.

  He squeezed her fingers, grateful for the gesture. “I didn’t think anything of it, once we landed, though I’ve never been so grateful to stand on solid ground. When I tried to go back home for a visit a few months later, I couldn’t do it.”