Loving the Heartland

by Marjorie Jones

  Michelle stumbled over a broken branch. Kendra caught her arm before she fell. The touch of her hands on Michelle’s arm burned her straight to the bottom of her lungs. “Thanks,” she managed to whisper.

  “Yeah.”

  They reached Kendra’s new King-cab truck and settled Lacey and the nurse into the back seat. Brent collapsed the wheelchair and put it in the bed. Casey sat in the back while Brent slid behind the wheel. Michelle scooted to the center of the front seat while Kendra climbed in behind her.

  Michelle closed her eyes. She’d finished packing this morning, before the service. All she had to do now was change into traveling clothes and she could be in Las Vegas by ten o’clock tonight.

  She didn’t want to leave. For the past few days she’d prayed that Kendra would ask her to stay. Instead, she’d insisted she leave, right now. Right after the funeral.

  “Let’s go home.”

  Lacey interjected from the back seat. “I live in Las Vegas, in case you forgot. I want to go home, too.”

  “No,” Kendra barked.

  “Michelle, can I ride back with you? My car is apparently still on vacation at McCarran Airport. It’s going to cost a small fortune to get it out of long term parking, you know.”

  “You just got five million dollars,” Casey interjected, referring to the original settlement monies that Kendra had split between all of her surviving siblings. Everyone was an adult. She felt they could manage their own affairs. Was she being altruistic? Or giving up? He continued, “I think you’ll be able to foot the bill.”

  Michelle glanced at Kendra. A single muscle in her strong jaw pulsed and her lips formed a solid line of determination and derision. But Lacey was a grown woman. And she was right. Their homes were in Las Vegas. “Sure, hon. No problem.”

  Brent sighed and pulled out of the parking lot. “When are you leaving?”

  “As soon as we get back and Lacey packs.”

  “That soon?” Casey asked. “I figured you’d stay the night and get an early start in the morning.”

  Michelle shook her head. If she wasn’t going to stay, if Kendra didn’t want her to stay forever, then the sooner she left, the better for everyone. What good would another night do? What purpose would be served by torturing herself with glimpses of a life she could never have?

  “No,” she answered. “I’ve been here too long, already.”

  

  Two months later...

  “I’d like to have the new campaign up and running no later than the thirtieth.”

  Michelle nodded her head and forced a smile. “No problem, Brandy. I’ll set up the photo shoots for next week and take some prelim shots before I leave today.”

  “Are you alright? Ever since you got back, you’ve been distracted.”

  Brandy Kincaid, one of the wealthiest women in Las Vegas and Michelle’s biggest client, tilted her head and leveled her with eyes so blue they seemed completely out of place surrounded by her sun-tanned skin and black hair. If those eyes were anything besides gorgeous, they were intuitive.

  She was right. She’d been distracted. Even the simplest tasks seemed to make her weak and tired. If she didn’t snap out of her funk soon, she would take her mother’s advice and talk to someone. Still, she lied, “I’m alright, Bran. Really. It’s just been a rough couple of months. That’s all. But we’ll be right on top of things for you, don’t worry. The Touchdown Club is going to be the biggest party-spot on the strip and your holiday campaign will be up and running well before Christmas. I promise.”

  “I have no doubt.”

  An awkward silence filled the space separating them over a football shaped table on the third balcony of the nightclub. At only four in the afternoon, dozens of patrons sat at the football-shaped bar, two stories below. Michelle glanced over the railing to peer down to the main floor. She tried to think of a good angle for a picture, but instead, she heard the ghost of Kendra’s voice telling her what a flamboyant and wasteful environment it was.

  She swallowed and looked up at Bran. “So, how are things with you? We haven’t talked in a while.”

  There. Small talk. She could manage small talk.

  Bran folded her arms over her chest. “She’s still sleeping around, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “No,” Michelle replied. Honestly, she hadn’t even remembered the problems Brandy had been having with the wife she’d married in Canada several years earlier. Normally so in tune with her friends and what happened in their lives, it was another level of proof that she was losing it. “I really wasn’t thinking about that, at all, Bran. Is it that bad?”

  She snorted. “I don’t care. There hasn’t been any love there for a very long time. If it weren’t for the pre-nup, I’d cut her loose.”

  “But, it’s your money. And you have grounds, right?”

  “Not really. For a divorce? Sure. But the pre-nup says she gets half of everything, no matter what.”

  “Why would you agree to that?” Michelle shook her head.

  “Because I was a goddamn fool in love. And half of me thinks she’s a witch. Have you ever felt like that, Michelle?” She leaned forward and placed her elbows on the edge of the table. “Have you ever felt that twitch in your gut, right here,” she pointed to her solar plexus, “and it just twists you up until you can’t breathe?”

  Had she ever felt it? God, yes, she’d felt it. And she still experienced the impact every time she lay down at night, alone, and her dreams drifted back to a quiet woman on a horse, riding through the stars of the horizon like she owned them.

  She felt it right then, as Kendra’s face drifted in front of her closed eyes.

  “Well, that’s what it felt like. And I should have run like hell. You can believe me; the next time, if there is a next time, I will. Sometimes, I swear, I could just kill her.”

  “Probably not a good idea, Bran,” she concluded. “But running away? That’s got my vote.”

  Michelle took the brass and glass elevator to the ground floor of the club. She was supposed to meet Lacey for a drink at one of their favorite spots; a tiny theme bar in the casino where Lacey used to schlep drinks.

  It wasn’t late, but Michelle yawned. Her limbs felt heavy. No, that wasn’t it. She felt old. And tired. And it had nothing to do with throwing herself into work she couldn’t concentrate on and everything to do with the fact she hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks.

  She’d call Lacey from her car and cancel. Maybe if she went straight home and crawled into bed, things would seem better in the morning. Of course, there was always that possibility that she would stay there forever.

  The electronic buzz of her cell phone vibrated against her hip. She pulled it from her pocket and slid the icon to the edge of the screen. It was Lacey.

  “You’re still coming tonight, right?”

  Michelle sighed. “I don’t know. I’m really beat.”

  “You can’t bail on me, now. You promised.”

  “What’s the big deal? Can’t we do this another night?”

  “No. We have to do it tonight. I reserved a table. Come on. You know you need to get out.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’m at the other end of the strip. But I can’t stay out all night, Lace. Seriously, I’m exhausted.”

  “We’ll see.” Lacey disconnected and Michelle pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it for a moment.

  What’s up with her?

  It had taken Michelle over a week to convince Lacey to come out of her apartment at all. She was recovering well physically, but the rest of her was taking a little longer. She was still embarrassed by the jagged, angry scar on her cheek, and she had been suffering from increasing anxiety attacks for the past few weeks.

  Then, Lacey had called out of the blue yesterday, insisting they meet at their old haunt. Michelle should be thankful she was making progress, not contemplating standing her up.

  If Lacey could do it, so could she.


  Almost a half-hour later, Michelle swerved her Mustang into the valet parking lane at the hotel. George greeted her with the same wide smile that he always did. He pointed around the bend in the drive and she circled to the next available valet.

  Nothing around here had changed. A sense of deja-vu overwhelmed her for a minute before she realized it wasn’t deja-vu at all. This was how it all started. Six months earlier, she’d pulled into this driveway to meet with Lacey about her sister’s ranch. She swallowed at the irony.

  Yeah. Nothing had changed, except for everything. Michelle would never be the same. Nothing and nobody would ever be the same again.

  From out of nowhere, something appeared in front of her car. Michelle closed her eyes, slammed on the brakes and grimaced as the tires made a short, loud squeal that echoed from the high ceilings of the elaborate hotel entrance. What the hell? Did she hit something?

  She opened first one eye, and then the other. Someone stood in front of her car. A placard covered most of the person, from above their head to their waist.

  Then her eyes fell on the poster. A string of letters jumped off the board, all lower case... all one word.

  www.willyou.marryme

  “Seriously, you asshole!? Risking your life to advertise a website? Are you insane?”

  The poster lowered.

  Michelle’s heart leapt out of her chest. Her lungs emptied.

  Kendra, complete with her cowboy hat set back just an inch or so off her forehead, smiled at her through the windshield.

  Michelle couldn’t breathe.

  Kendra circled to Michelle’s window and leaned inside. “Hey, Michelle? You’re blocking traffic.”

  “Oh, my God, Kendra! What are you doing here?”

  She lifted the sign several inches and laughed. “I thought that was pretty obvious.”

  “But, I thought you didn’t want me.” Damn it. She would not cry.

  “Yeah, well, nobody has ever accused me of being smart.”

  Michelle opened the door and Kendra backed up a step to let her out. Then she set the poster in the backseat of the car and took Michelle into her arms. She smelled of open range and happiness and lavender and leather.

  Kendra pulled back slightly and focused her attention on Michelle’s face. “Listen, Michelle, I’ve had a lot of time to think. And I’ve come to a conclusion that I hope you’ll agree with. The way I see it, Brad had it all.” Her voice caught when she mentioned her brother’s name and she cast her gaze to the high, decorated ceiling of the portico as though she were trying not to cry. When she looked back at Michelle, her green eyes bore directly into her soul. “Brad had it all, and he died fighting for what he loved. How do I honor his memory if I’m not willing to fight for us? If I have one shot at happiness, I think he’d want me to take it.”

  “Kendra,” Michelle interrupted only to have one of Kendra’s strong fingers settle over her lips.

  “Let me finish. Please. I was a fool to let you go. I love you, Michelle. I’ve loved you from the first minute you walked into my house. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, starting right here, right now.”

  So much for not crying. Michelle pulled Kendra tight against her and sobbed. All of the pain, loneliness and fear of the past six months poured out and disintegrated in the warm, Las Vegas air. Michelle sniffled and squeezed Kendra until she thought she might lose feeling in her arms. “I love you, too, baby. I’ve been so lost ever since I left the Heartland. I want to go home, Kendra.”

  “Home?”

  Michelle pulled away and looked up into the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen. They looked like prairie grass in the sunlight. She wanted to lose herself in them again, and forever.

  “Home, Kendra. Take me home.”

  The End

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  by Marjorie Jones?

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  About the Author

  Marjorie has been writing professionally for more than 10 years in various capacities and is an award-winning novelist. Nominated twice for the coveted Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award for Best Romance from a Small Press, she currently resides in Utah with her wife and their shared eight natural, step, and elected children. She is the author of Marko Loves His Family, Hope, Hunting Camion and Dance in My Heart from Indie Artist Press as well as several full-length novels you can find listed in the front of this book.

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