Brand New Sky

by Heidi Hutchinson

  A month ago she never would have guessed that she'd be going on a sunset horse ride with him. It hadn't seemed plausible.

  “And yet here we are,” she whispered.

  Sway heard her and turned to the sound. The look they exchanged spoke for them. He was there too. Somehow, along the way of getting to know one another, they actually had.

  ***

  “Tell me about where you grew up, Ryan,” Pops said as he settled into his easy chair after dinner.

  Sway and Ryan had done the dishes while Gran had made coffee. Now they were all relaxing in the sitting room before they'd have to call it a day and get some sleep. Tomorrow would herald the arrival of relatives and caterers.

  Ryan sat on the floor, her back to the loveseat where Sway was sitting, and crossed her legs underneath her.

  “Mostly in and around Tampa.”

  “Florida?” Pops asked. “I heard it gets hot down there.”

  Ryan chuckled. “You heard right.”

  “Do you have a big family?” Gran asked next.

  “Kind of,” Ryan said thoughtfully. “My mom has a lot of siblings. I was an only child, though. Mom passed away a few years ago and so I moved to Connecticut.”

  “What about your father, honey?” Gran asked. Sway recognized her tone. It was the one she used on the mares when they were struggling with foaling. Soothing, wary.

  “My father.” Ryan sighed. Sway didn't know anything about her father, he'd never asked. “My father divorced my mom when I was only about ten. He remarried shortly after and he has a whole new family.” She paused and added quietly, “I've never met them.”

  Gran nodded as if she understood, and perhaps she did. She was a wise woman and she knew all kinds of things that Sway never understood how she did.

  “Grandparents?” Pops asked gruffly.

  Sway wished he was sitting in a place he could see Ryan's face, read how she was feeling. But he couldn't. So he shifted slightly and pressed his leg to her side. She acknowledged it by resting her head back against his knee.

  “It's kind of a long story,” she said. “One that I don't want to go into right now. But my grandparents never really wanted me. So I never forced the issue.”

  Gran, who had always been the most compassionate person in any room, nodded slightly, but didn't press.

  Pops was a different matter entirely.

  “That's bullshit,” he declared forcefully.

  “Pops,” Sway said in surprise.

  Ryan's body started to shake with laughter. “You're not wrong.”

  Pops jerked his head in a nod. “I'm usually not.”

  “It's all right,” Ryan said. “I came to terms with it a long time ago. Their issues are not my own.”

  Gran smiled her approval and lifted one eyebrow at Sway as if to say, “Told you so.”

  ***

  Sway stared up at the ceiling in his room, waiting and trying and hoping to fall asleep. He was distracted by too many thoughts and a couple of his anxieties had returned.

  Mostly he was thinking about things that Ryan had said.

  “My grandparents never really wanted me.”

  Pops was right to declare it bullshit. It was total bullshit.

  And yet he'd had those same fears growing up. Not about his grandparents, but his actual parents. They loved him, yeah. But did they like him? Should things like that matter?

  He was always his own person. He did his own thing, no matter how it looked to anyone else. He had just never been the kind of person to follow all the rules. To him, rules were guidelines for those who didn't know what they wanted to do. Sway had always known what he wanted.

  He wanted to live.

  And being exactly who he wanted to be had brought him to Ryan. So there was no way he was going to start regretting that now.

  Maybe that was why he'd always connected better with Pops than his own dad. Pops had eternally marched to the beat of his own drum. He'd practically made the drum himself.

  And then there was Ryan's father. Gone since she was a child and made himself a whole new family.

  Sway couldn't imagine anyone not wanting Ryan in their life.

  That thought brought him back to the day they'd met. Her cold exterior with Liam. Her very private way of living. Her sarcasm. Her dark humor.

  He smiled as it all added up to one single thought.

  They didn't want her, because they couldn't see her.

  Which was funny in and of itself because Sway had never felt so seen until her. They were two misfits that just didn't fit into the normal expectations of those around them.

  It was a good thing they had finally found each other.

  Tomorrow would bring what it would. Sway had Ryan. Even as misfits, two were always better than one. If everything went to shit, and he had to get away from it all, he had total confidence that she'd be right by his side.

  Chapter 28

  One

  Ryan stepped out of the house into the cool of early evening in a white backless dress that fell past her knees. It was deceptively elegant while still being appropriate for an outdoor reception. Paired with the weathered cowboy boots that Gran had encouraged she wear with it, she felt like she belonged on this acreage. The boots were rich in their own history, and they anchored her, giving her the steady confidence she needed to feel all at once at home and brand new.

  The tents had been set up earlier in the day, along with the dance floor and live band. The strings of lights were lit now, and the whole property glowed with happy anticipation. People milled about, some Ryan had already been introduced to—cousins, family friends, distant relatives, former colleagues. It seemed that all of Eastern Connecticut had turned out to celebrate the life of Melanie Schaeffer.

  Ryan's gazed landed on the lady of the evening standing at the center of a group of people laughing as she told one of her many stories. Dressed in pale pink and not looking eighty-five in the least bit, she was completely comfortable holding court. Ryan smiled, preserving that image in her mind. This weekend, these people... it was more than she'd ever had. It might seem small to some, but Ryan knew exactly what it was to her. And so she decided to hold it in her heart for always.

  “You look completely at home in those boots.”

  Ryan's smile was fast and open at the sound of Sway's voice approaching from her left. “You know what they say, you can take the girl out of the stables, but...” She turned to him at last and had to swallow at the sight.

  Sway was in dark-wash jeans and a powder blue button down shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves, the top three buttons undone. His hair was styled back, making him look more mature than his usual playful self. He stepped into her, sliding one hand along her exposed lower back and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “You look beautiful,” he whispered.

  As he was pulling back to an acceptable distance, her hands slid up his chest to his shoulders and she pushed up on her toes to press her cheek to his. “I really like the stubble.”

  She grinned as she released back onto her feet and he winked. “That's just for you.”

  His warm fingertips on the exposed skin of her back applied gentle pressure and she joined him in walking into the crowd. She realized that they had reached the point in their relationship where he could guide her direction with the barest of movements. For someone who was very much against being touched be people at all, this was a huge development. Warmth curled in her insides like a happy kitten and purred contentedly. She'd never had this with anyone else. Not even her ex-fiancé.

  He wove them through the guests to their table, stopping occasionally to introduce her to new faces. Sway, always the puzzle to her, was surprising her less and less by his ability to be exactly himself and yet exactly peculiar. His confidence was intoxicating. And she was definitely developing a habit.

  They were almost to their table when Sway groaned almost inaudibly and his whole body tensed. Ryan automatically squeezed his arm where her hand rested. It became quite clear
what had triggered his slight change in demeanor.

  Standing from their seated position at their table was a man who could have been Sway in thirty years. Same build, same stormy blue eyes. But there was a hardness to those eyes that Sway lacked, and the shared blond hair was incredibly short and silver at the temples. Instead of laugh lines, he had deep furrows in his brow, and his mouth wasn't smiling now.

  The resemblance was unnerving. Mostly because this man looked so familiar, and yet Ryan couldn't recognize him compared to the man who stood beside her.

  “Father.” Sway's voice was all at once formal and polite. Ryan knew she flinched at the unexpectedness of it. She took a deep breath and tried to smile as cordially as she dared.

  “Ryan.”

  She sucked in a quick breath, but then remembered that Sway's first name was also Ryan. She'd temporarily forgotten.

  “Mother,” Sway said, the chill on his words causing a shiver to slide up Ryan's spine.

  Father? Mother? What happened to Mom and Dad?

  Ryan's eyes shifted to the stunning woman standing beside Sway's father. Statuesque, light brown hair, green eyes, practiced smile. She was beautiful. In fact, standing together they were a very handsome couple. Smartly dressed, not a wrinkle in sight.

  “I go by Sway, but you knew that.” Sway's tone was civil if not biting. Ryan's hand curled into a fist at her side. Of course he was Sway, why wouldn't he be Sway?

  His father rolled his eyes. “I'm going to call you that ridiculous name. I'll call you by your legal name.”

  Ryan's head immediately came up with an idea to talk Sway into legally changing his name. Was that too rebellious of an impulse?

  Sway's hand at her back moved to curve around her hip possessively. “This is Ryan, my girlfriend.” Before he had finished speaking, Ryan had thrust out her hand happily. “Ryan, these are my parents—”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Schaeffer,” Sway's dad interrupted curtly, ignoring Ryan's hand. The Missus also ignored her hand.

  “So nice to meet you,” Ryan said, just barely biting back her sarcasm and letting her hand drop back to her side.

  Sway's mother smiled dimly and narrowed her eyes at her son. “I thought you had agreed to not bring your...” Her eyes flicked over to Ryan and back to Sway. “Groupies to your grandparent's house. It's very disrespectful.”

  Ryan felt her face get hot and Sway's grip on her tighten.

  “Ryan is my girlfriend, not a groupie,” Sway corrected, sounding tired. Like he was already exhausted from dealing with them.

  Mr. Schaeffer's mouth twisted bitterly as the live band resumed their music. Big Band, covering all the classics of the Rat Pack and their era. “I really can't believe they didn't ask us to help them at least plan the music. It's insulting.” He shook his head and looked around the tents and the happy people. “This was so badly planned. They could have had her party in the city.”

  Mrs. Schaeffer nodded in agreement. “Yes, the woman is turning eight-five,” she said carefully. “I can't believe we postponed Tuscany for this.”

  Mr. Schaeffer's focus returned to Sway and Ryan as he looked them up and down. “We make sacrifices for family. You could've gotten a haircut at least,” he said. “Or managed to button up your shirt. Still dressing like a vagabond. Aren't you thirty now?”

  “Yes, and thank you for the card. Oh wait, never mind.” Sway's whole body was rigid, Ryan could feel him trembling beneath her hand on his arm.

  “Really, son, your hair...” His mom sighed and shook her head. “There's so many influential people here tonight. You could've made some new connections.”

  Ryan was offended. For a lot of reasons at the moment, but most of all on behalf of Sway and his gorgeous hair. She opened her mouth to say something, she wasn't sure yet. Probably something very backwoodsy and inappropriate. Sway got there first.

  “I'm glad you both could make it.” He pulled her firmly to his side and made to move around his parents. “We should catch up again real soon.”

  Ryan took deep breaths as Sway led her away. She had no idea how he could respond so nicely when they'd been the opposite.

  “Stop frowning.”

  Ryan frowned harder and Sway smiled as he kissed her furrowed brow. He'd stopped them on the dance floor and currently had both arms wrapped around her.

  “For being painfully polite people, they sure are rude,” she muttered.

  Sway chuckled, flattening one hand against the skin of her back and running it from the top to the bottom and back again. He moved them to the music, keeping their faces close.

  Halfway through the song, she began to relax and her righteous indignation was replaced with a deep sorrow that these people were the parents that Sway had.

  “How is it that you're nothing like them?” she asked, gently tugging on his hair at the nape of his neck. His eyes came to hers and the look he gave her almost made her heart break.

  He shrugged and didn't answer. But something was there, just under his calm facade. Something troubling.

  Sway began to sing along with the song, his hands guiding her, doing the talking he simply couldn't at the moment. She listened.

  They turned and twisted, spun and dipped. Song after song, they danced. And held on to each other. Sway never took his eyes off of her, and she returned the favor.

  His face slowly began to relax and return to the happy expression she was so accustomed to. She didn't hide her delight in this, placing a kiss on the side of his mouth when they were close together again. He twirled her out and back in again, catching her in a tight embrace as he gazed into her eyes.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “I love you,” she said back, meaning it more than she had ever meant it before and knowing it was the first time she'd actually told him. Though he'd have to be a complete idiot if he didn't already know.

  The peaceful smile he gave, verified her assumption.

  “Do you know why I go by Sway?” he asked.

  Ryan didn't. She had never thought to ask. She remembered a very popular VJ being named Sway back in the day, so she just figured it was a cool name and left it at that.

  “This song,” he said, his voice a low rumble in her ear. Both of his hands were at her back, pressing them close together as he continued to move them to the tempo of the music.

  Of course Ryan knew this song. It was a Dean Martin classic. But that didn't explain why the title had become the name of the man who was now holding her like she'd become a vital extension of his own body.

  “One of these days I'll teach you to Tango to this,” he said, throwing her out for a twirl. Then he was singing the words. Loudly.

  Ryan's body pulsed with excitement. Every time Sway mentioned their future it made her deliriously happy.

  Because it felt too good to be true, and at the same time an absolute fact.

  Back in his arms, he crooned the remaining words in her ear, causing goosebumps to spring up along her arms and back. She could do this. Forever as Sway's girl? Oh, yeah. Without a doubt.

  “I need to steal my grandson for a moment,” Pops interrupted their embrace with an apologetic smile.

  Sway made it obvious he didn't want to let go, but then Gran at his shoulder convinced him.

  “Don't worry, sweetheart. I have her.”

  Ryan closed her eyes as Sway kissed her softly on the mouth. So gentle it was almost a whisper. “Be right back.”

  “C'mon, honey,” Gran said, taking Ryan's arm. “I'm an old woman. Help me get to my table.” Ryan guided them off of the dance floor and around the tables. “All these people have come and for the life of me, I can't figure out why.”

  Ryan snickered, looking over her shoulder to see Pops with an arm around Sway's shoulders and disappearing into the dark behind the lights of the tents. “They came to see you, Gran.”

  They reached her table, which was currently only occupied by an enormous centerpiece. Gran maneuvered them to sit on the far side, out of sight. She patted Ryan'
s hand a few times as her eyes roamed over the crowd.

  “I'm glad you're here, honey.” Gran worried her bottom lip.

  “Do you need some water, Gran?” Ryan asked, looking around for a server or a pitcher someplace.

  “No. I'm all right. I just need to rest.” She sighed and rested her chin in one hand while propping her elbow on the table. “My boy, Ethan.” She nodded in the direction of Sway's parents, who were having a stiff conversation with people who looked equally displeased with their surroundings.

  Ryan's lips twitched. “I only know him as Mr. Schaeffer.”

  Gran chuckled without humor. She watched her son for a minute, her eyes sober and observant. “He used to be so different.”

  “What do you mean?” Ryan asked quietly.

  “I mean he knew this land like the back of his hand. Getting him to come inside when the weather was above freezing was next to impossible. He loved it here. He was really involved in getting bands started around town. He helped find instruments for kids and stuff. Spent a lot of weekends crashing on friends' couches in Boston.” She tapped her lips with her index finger, lost in the memory. “He met Chloe in college. They both had music scholarships, spent a lot of time together. But Chloe came from a different kind of family. Very proper, well-to-do. Nice people.” She tilted her head. “Nice girl.”

  “What happened?” Ryan asked, feeling guilty that her fingers itched to take notes.

  Gran's smile turned sad. “Chloe died in a car accident over Spring Break. The driver had been drinking.”

  Ryan's mouth fell open as ice stole through her veins. “Chloe isn't...?”

  “Ethan didn't ever fully recover. He stopped going out with friends. Stopped listening to any music that wasn't part of his schooling. He just stopped being... Ethan. One weekend we received an invitation to our son's wedding to Grace Channing, of the Westchester Channings. And Chloe's sister.”

  Ryan looked at the woman that was Sway's mother, her heart hurting with every beat.

  Gran nodded, sitting back in her chair. “It was difficult for us to really accept at first, that the Ethan I had raised—the same young man who had been a roadie for U2's War Tour—was gone. But then Sway came, and there must have been something left of my son inside that shell of a man because he sent Sway to us every summer without fail—instead of the Channing Compound.”