by Hebby Roman
This one way flow of information started to irritate her. And did she detect a note of disapproval in his voice when he mentioned the apartment?
“Boone talks about you and the rest of your family all the time,” he added, seeing the expression on her face.
“I think I’m going to have to tell him to stop talking about us.”
“Please do. To be honest it would be a relief to the rest of us.”
She took in a deep gulp of air, ready to blast him when she saw his lips twitching, trying not to laugh at his own teasing. She laughed and he looked down at the ground to hide his smile. She wanted to ask him where they’d met before, but she got the sense he’d gotten as personal as he was going to get today. In fact, she could almost feel him mentally pushing her off his property.
“I’ll be on my way then. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”
He nodded without looking up. Apparently, she was expected to let herself out. She had her hand on the door when she thought of something. “Hey, congratulations. I heard you won the TV.”
He looked up, a scowl on his face again. “Another thing I’ve acquired which I don’t want. I didn’t even put my name up for it. I told your mother not to do that.”
“She put one ticket in with your name on it. She didn’t rig it. You came by the prize honestly.”
“I’m not going to take it.”
“Why not? Is your TV better?”
“I don’t have one. My TV broke some time ago, and I discovered I don’t miss it.”
“Well, you should take it. It seems rude not to take it when Mr. Turner donated it.”
“I’ll take the darn thing then.”
“Good.”
“And donate it to someone else.”
She huffed and let herself out. He’s a crazy man.
Chapter Six
Harper froze when she saw the motorcycle parked behind the fire station. Of course, he’d be here. She knew Flynn worked the same shift as her father, but she hoped he wouldn’t be around. She felt a ball of nerves tighten in her stomach. Maybe she’d start a small brush fire and create a distraction. Setting her shoulders straight, she got out of her car. Her car, the one Flynn had found for her father to buy.
And, of course, he was the first person she saw when she walked in. She strode in, past the enormous fire engines with the firefighters’ turnout gear alongside them: the boots standing in turned out pants, ready for a fireman answering an alarm to jump into. Their heavy coats were draped on the trucks. And there, at the back of the station, sat Flynn in his t-shirt with the fire department logo above his heart, chair tipped back on two legs, leaning against the wall. When he saw her, he dropped the chair back to the ground with a loud thud. Five firemen in the same navy blue shirts sat around a table, drinking coffee. Whatever conversation they were having came to an abrupt halt as they all turned to face her.
“Hey, sweetheart, what brings you here?” said her father who sat across from Flynn.
“What brings me here is you forgot to leave the keys to the apartment at home.”
“I didn’t exactly forget, but I thought you’d wait to move in when I’m free to help.”
“It’s not like I’m moving furniture. I think I can manage some boxes and a couple of suitcases by myself.”
Suddenly, a dog launched itself at her, twitching with excitement.
“Down, Dog!” commanded Flynn, and the dog sat down, still looking at her with a face scrunched up with excitement.
“You brought Dog with you to work!” She scratched the dog between the ears.
“Couldn’t leave him alone all the time I’m on shift.”
“So you haven’t found his owner yet?”
Her father eyed her with suspicion. “How do you know about this dog?”
“She saw it when she dropped off the food for the soup kitchen, and no, I have not found the owner yet.” Flynn stared at the floor.
A man around her father’s age guffawed. “I’d guess you’re that dog’s owner now. You might as well change its name to Flynn’s Dog.”
Another man at the table spoke up. “It’s just what you want, Flynn. Something to give you unconditional love, which lord knows you need.”
“The only condition being he has an owner somewhere,” said Flynn.
“Don’t get too attached.” The man she remembered as Dusty warned.
“I’m trying not to but he is a good dog—if I was looking for one. He’s real smart too. I never met a dog who can read the way he does.”
“Oh, what are you talking about?” asked Dusty.
“No, really, I found my bookmark moved. He’s already ahead of me in the story.” Flynn studied his coffee cup.
The men looked at him like they didn’t know what to make of him. Harper felt the tops of her ears burning. “Anyway, Dad, I’d like to settle in before I have to go to work today. Can I have the keys?”
“Oh, all right. They’re in my office on the desk.”
Harper hurried out and down the hall to her father’s office. She passed the lockers on the way and there, on a label, was the name Flynn right next to Donovan. Of course, Flynn is his last name! I should have gotten that.
When she got to her father’s office, she grabbed the keys and then did a quick bit of detective work. Soon she found the duty roster. Frank Flynn. The name did ring a bell.
She went back to the main room. Now there was only an empty chair where Flynn had been sitting. The empty seat filled her with a mixture of relief and disappointment. When she got home, she was going to have to take a long look in the mirror and see if there was anything she’d missed this morning—like growing a lizard head in place of her own. She handed the keys to her father. He flipped through them until he found the keys he was looking for and slid two keys with color-coded sleeves on the heads off the ring.
“The green key opens the front door. That door can be a little tricky. Pull it in first before turning the key. The orange key is for the door that leads down to the stables. Keep that door locked at all times. In fact, keep all the doors locked at all times.”
* * *
As anxious as she was to get into her new place, Harper first ran to her high school yearbook stored in her old room. Flynn wasn’t in her senior yearbook, so she got out the previous year’s. There he was in the index with only one page listed after his name. She flipped to the middle of the book to a photo of the basketball team. The faces in the group picture were small and hard to make out. She ran her finger over the faces while going over the names listed in the caption. Her finger stalled. There he was. A tall, thin thing. Hair on the long side. She remembered him a little now, but she couldn’t pin down anything definite about him. She remembered he was a year ahead of her. There wasn’t a shot of him in the senior section. Curious.
She called Lizzie. Lizzie had stayed in town and seemed to know everyone.
“I was just thinking about you. How’s the move going?” asked Lizzie.
“I’m about to run over there now, but hey, I have a quick question for you. Do you remember Frank Flynn from high school?”
“Oh, yeah! He was a bad boy.”
“Really? Funny, he’s practically a saint now. What did he do back then?”
“I don’t remember exactly but he hung around with that crowd. You know, drinking, sex, and smoking weed. Skipped school half the time. I seem to remember something...did he get arrested? Or maybe that was his older brother. They were all trouble, those Flynns. I think he got expelled or suspended and didn’t graduate.”
Chapter Seven
She could picture Dad here. His personality was imprinted everywhere in this apartment from the heavy mission furniture to the stone fireplace. Dad here in his bachelor days, handsome with his brown hair and gray eyes. Meeting Mom, a single, young mother. Beginning their romance here in this apartment.... Don’t go there. She shook the image out of her head.
Harper loved the open floor plan with a fantas
tic kitchen dividing the living area and the bedroom area. The balcony off one end was a good place to start and end the day. The view of the ranch with the mountains beyond always gave her something to look at. Like cowboys coming and going. Flynn, too. She’d seen him a few times, dressed like a proper cowboy in a Stetson, western shirt and jeans, taking off on horseback. Even if she couldn’t always see his face, she recognized his body and stance by now. She had her chores to do around the stable but so far hadn’t run into him.
Harper had finished one glass of wine with dinner to wind down her day and was thinking about a second when she saw him. Flynn riding over the open range coming back to the stable. As she watched, he looked up briefly before disappearing from view going into the building below her.
Maybe it was the wine, but Harper decided to take action. That lock was tricky. Dad had been right about that. Wrestling with the damn lock every day was her only complaint about living here. With a sudden inspiration, she got a screwdriver out of the drawer and went to work on the knob on her front door.
By the time she got down to the stable, he had already unsaddled his horse and had begun brushing it down. When he looked up, Harper went weak at the knees. His face was, of course, blank.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey yourself. What have you got there?”
She held up the two pieces of the doorknob in her hands. “This doorknob has been giving me trouble since I moved in. Now the screw fell out, and I can’t find it.”
He cocked his head sideways. “Look in the tack room. There’s a collection of screws in the workbench. Good thing you’re so handy,” he said, returning to his horse.
This wasn’t going in the direction she’d hoped. She walked past him to the enclosed room that served as tack room and office. The air was heavy with the scent of leather. Bridles and saddles on racks lined the wooden walls. She rifled through the plastic bins in the drawer, everything neatly organized into compartment by size, all the while aware of Flynn’s presence outside. She’d become a heat-seeking missile, sensing him like a pulsating orange glow.
She heard the rasping of the curry comb in the background. The sound stopped all of a sudden, followed by a heavy sigh.
She turned to see him standing in the doorway. “Is this an exterior door or an interior door?”
“Exterior.”
“Well, you better let me take a look at it. We can’t leave you unsecured up there. Give me a minute to put my horse back in the stall.” He had a pained expression on his face.
She followed him out. “Is that your horse?”
“Yes, I keep him here.”
“What do you call him? Horse?”
He looked back at her, a small smile threatened to break out on his face. “I put some thought into it. Lucky is his name.”
“You’re pretty good at naming animals. How’s Dog? Did you find his owner yet?”
“Nope. Dog is fine.”
“Did you repair the damage yet?”
“Excuse me,” he said, brushing past her while leading his horse into a stall. He spent a few minutes there, while she stood sweeping the toe of her boot back and forth until he came back. “All right, let’s see about this doorknob. Did you find the right screw?”
“I think so,” she said, holding out her hand.
He reached for the small screw in her palm. When his hand touched hers, she took in a sharp breath, surprised by the currents it sent through her.
He held the screw up to the light. “No, this is too short. It will wriggle free again. Come on.” He led her back into the tack room.
The sight of his broad shoulders and narrow waist bent over the workbench nearly undid her. She stepped in and stood close behind him. Close enough to smell the horse and sweat on him. In her imagination, he spun around and pulled her into an embrace. How his lips would feel on hers....
“You’re blocking the light standing there,” he said, jolting her to attention.
She stepped to the side. From here, she watched his long, tapered fingers flicking through screws. “This will do. Come on. Show me this door,” he said.
“Up the stairs.”
“I figured that much.” He stood back and let her go up the stairs first, much to her embarrassment.
Now he’d get to watch her ass from below. Great. She started up the stairs, picking out a deliberate pace that wasn’t too fast, not too slow—the pace of the unconcerned. About the time she hit step four, she heard his tread hit the steps below her. The dry, hot air enveloped her body sucking the moisture out of her, yet sweat still beaded on her upper lip. She heard him take in a breath, and the soft tapping of his boots on the steps. The railing beneath her hand shook with their movement. All the time all she thought about the view she must be giving him. The ascent seemed interminable. She had the jarring sensation of walking up a down escalator, time and movement out of synch. Her hand slid up the railing, and out of corner of her eye, she saw his hand sliding in step behind hers. Just when the tension was becoming unbearable he broke the silence. “How’s that car working out for you?”
“It’s great, thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. It was your daddy who bought the car for you.” There it was again that hint of disapproval in his voice.
“I couldn’t talk him out of it. Here we are.” At last they’d reached the top landing.
Flynn fit the doorknob back into place and took a screwdriver out of his back pocket. She took the moment to admire his tight jeans with her fingers itching to grab his bottom.
“Could you hold this?” She swallowed hard. He handed her his Stetson.
She held the hat by the brim and worked it around in her hands to see the sweat stain running around it. She fought the impulse to put the hat on her head to feel the moist heat on her skin. “Do you lead trail rides?”
“No, I don’t. I do real ranch work. Your Uncle Pete doesn’t think I’m suited to taking out parties. Something about my people skills.” He looked up and winked at her.
“Is that right? I hadn’t noticed your lack of people skills. But I suppose it’s good to know your own strengths and stick at what you’re good at.”
“Speaking of which, I hear you’ve been mucking out the stalls.”
“Oh, no, I only put down the fresh straw after they’ve been mucked out.”
“Pity. I’d pay money to see that.” There was amusement in his voice.
“I fill the water and feed tubs too.”
He stood up straight. “Okay, I’m done, but I gotta say, I don’t like the look of this mechanism. It wouldn’t take much to bust this lock. You’re pretty isolated out here, and we get some strange sorts hanging around.”
“Yes, we do,” she said in a teasing voice.
“I’m serious. I’m going to tell your father he needs to replace this.”
“I’ll mention it to him next time I see him.”
“I’ll tell him about it when I call him tonight.”
“But, isn’t that going to seem strange? He’s going to wonder why you were up here.”
He gave her a hard look. “The truth works just fine. I helped you when I ran into you. Nothing else to tell him, right?”
“Of course. Nothing more to say.”
He tested the door, glancing inside and whistled. “Nice crib you got here.”
“It really is! My father did all the work here. Want to come in and see it?”
“No, I don’t. I have to get home to my dog. See you around.” He took his hat from her and headed down the stairs.
Standing there in the night with a light breeze, Harper was aware of her skin feeling on fire. Watching him walk away without hesitation or a backward look was like being slapped with a cold, wet towel. She felt the chemistry between them. It wasn’t her imagination. Why did he put up a wall?
Chapter Eight
Harper poured glasses of iced tea for herself and her mother. When she held the pitcher up to show Dad, he shook his head and indicated th
e beer at his feet before going back to work installing the new lock set.
“Let’s go out on the balcony,” said Mom.
Harper didn’t want to go out in the heat, but her mother gave her a conspiratorial wink and led her out. When the glass door shut behind them, her mother turned to her, talking in a breathy voice. “So what’s the real story? What’s going on between you and Flynn? You can tell me.”
Harper leaned in to her and whispered. “My doorknob fell apart.”
“Yeah?” Mom raised her eyebrows.
“Yes, and I went down to the stable to look for a screw in the tack room.... Flynn was there.”
“And?” Her eyebrows went higher.
“And he fixed it for me and went home. End of story. Nothing’s going on between us.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Mom, it’s true. I’m not interested in Flynn, and even if I were he makes it very clear he’s not interested in me. You saw that yourself. He’s so standoffish and tense.”
Earlier that day after Dad had looked at her door and run into town to buy a new lock set, she and Mom decided to take a couple of horses out for a ride. Harper ran back to her apartment to put on sunscreen and when she came back down, Flynn and her mother were standing by the corral with the horses ready to go. She watched Flynn talking to her mother with that dazzling smile. They were laughing and he seemed so relaxed. But when Harper joined them, he went all stony-faced again and excused himself. That brief encounter hours earlier had played across her mind the rest of the day.
Mom sipped her iced tea and nodded. “Well, there’s tension...and then there’s tension.”
“What do you mean?”
“The chemistry in the air almost gave me the vapors.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. He acts like he can’t stand to be in the same room with me.”
“Exactly. Let me tell you something from personal experience. Sometimes that feeling can be overwhelming. When I first met your father, I cut him a wide berth too, and believe me it wasn’t because I couldn’t stand him. I knew if I got close enough to him there was going to be a serious combustion, and at the time, I wasn’t sure I trusted my own instincts anymore. I made a big mess of my life with Rory’s father, and I worked hard to put my life back together. But your father knew differently and wouldn’t let me be.”