But they had learned that dust in Charlie’s barn was just a fact. The packed-dirt floor meant that red dirt drifted everywhere to coat everything, maybe even more when it was swept than when it wasn’t. “Charlie’s barn will never be as clean as Bayside Barn because of the dirt floors, but I’m trying. Erin and I both are.”
“I can tell.” Adrian squeezed her hand, which he was still holding. Their clasped hands rested on the center console between the two seats. “And I do realize that there are only two of you, while Reva has…what? Five volunteer interns to help with the field trips and Sean working part-time to help with the animal care and cleaning?”
“Something like that.” Reva had more help than Heather, but she also had more animals. “I just wish I had more time to do everything that needs doing. All the junk Dale piled up in the pole barn is starting to sneak into my nightmares.”
“Maybe we’ll schedule another cleanup day to deal with that sometime. Meanwhile, you and Erin are doing a great job of taking care of Charlie with the resources you’ve got. And when you and Abby hire the people who’ll be doing animal care for the shelter, you’ll do a great job supervising them too.”
“Abby and I are interviewing someone next week. Whoever we hire will start working the day after the grand opening.”
“And soon after that, you’ll be working together to save animals and make people’s lives better. That’s actually kind of incredible, isn’t it?”
“You know, it kind of is.” She felt a flood of gratitude for Adrian. He held up a believing mirror of the kind of person she meant to be and hoped she could be. “Thank you for the pep talk. I didn’t realize how much I needed one.”
“It’s nothing. And for real, I’m truly sorry I overreacted that night. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I realize that it was partly because I was tired as hell and partly because I lost my own horse…” He seemed about to say more but didn’t. She watched flickers of emotion cross his face, quickly suppressed and just as quickly gone. He glanced over at her, then back at the road. “And partly it was because I’ve seen truly horrible conditions in a horse barn, and I guess it affected me more than I thought.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Muscles in his jaw moved as he briefly clenched his teeth. “When I was a kid…I dunno, maybe about nine or ten years old, I went to a little mom-and-pop feed store with my dad. It wasn’t the place we usually went to, but our regular feed store was out of the brand my dad liked to feed Bluebell.” He looked at her and flashed a smile. “My little sisters got to name the horse. I was campaigning for Flash, but I got outvoted.”
“Awww, you poor thing.” She thought of the way Adrian might have looked as a nine- or ten-year-old. Tall for his age, maybe, skinny, probably. “What did you look like back then?”
He scoffed. “Nobody knew. I was always covered in dirt.”
“Hmmm. I bet you were a very cute little boy with those big blue eyes of yours.” He gave her a surprised look, as if a compliment or a thought about his looks was the last thing he’d expect to hear coming from her. No wonder; they’d always kept things businesslike up until now, even though she was pretty sure she wasn’t the only one who felt an undercurrent of attraction running through every encounter between them. “I’m sorry for interrupting. Tell me more about what happened.”
“So, we were at this little backwoods feed store that was just a shack in front of somebody’s house, and I was bored with the whole process, so while my dad was inside buying feed, I wandered to the barn out back.”
He probably didn’t realize it, but he was squeezing her fingers tight enough to cut off the circulation. She watched his face as he stared out the windshield, his attention on driving while the faraway memory seemed to move behind his eyes. “I still remember how shocked I was. There was this…this little brown pony with a shaggy coat and a fat belly, standing fetlock-deep in a slurry of urine-saturated shit. His front legs were swollen…” He swallowed. “So swollen that the skin had cracked open in long vertical fissures that oozed blood and pus.”
“Oh, Adrian…”
“The water bucket—maybe a fifty-gallon rubber container—was half-full of thick greenish-black liquid that looked more like used motor oil than water.”
“What did y’all do?”
“I went running to get my dad. He had always fixed everything in my life up until then, and I fully expected him to fix this too. I wanted him to get that pony out of there and bring him home with us, even if he had to pay a gazillion dollars to do it.”
He was telling the story the way people do when they’re unloading their grief for the first time. She’d seen it happen enough times at the grief support group to know what that kind of outpouring looked like. She eased her hand out of his, unbuckled her seat belt, and flipped up the center console.
“What are you doing?”
“Scooting closer.” She sat beside him, fastened the lap belt, and wrapped her hands around his arm. “You looked like you needed a hug.” She hugged his arm, then took his right hand and wove her fingers through his, settling their clasped hands in his lap. “Carry on. Tell me what your daddy did.”
Adrian swallowed. “He didn’t do anything. He said he didn’t want to start any trouble; we were so far out in the boonies that if the guy decided to shoot us, no one would find us.”
“Did he buy the horse feed?”
“Yep.” Adrian’s tone was bitter. “To be fair, he had already bought it and loaded it up in the back of the truck. I tried to get him to go look at the pony, but he told me to mind my own business and get in the truck. Then he just drove away.”
She put her head on his shoulder and hugged him tight. All the times she had avoided touching him—or even looking at him—seemed silly and juvenile to her now. “I am so sorry that happened to you.”
“I’ve never told anyone else—except ranting to my mom about it when we got home.”
“I’m glad you told me.” She reached across his chest and put her hand on his shoulder, giving him the best semblance of a full-on hug she could manage while he was driving. “I’m sure it was a traumatic experience, seeing that pony’s suffering and not being able to do anything about it.”
“I’ve never been able to forget that poor pony. I’m sure he’s long since dead, but even the thought that he died alone and in pain is embedded in my mind.” He shrugged, and the hard muscles of his biceps and shoulder moved smoothly under Heather’s hands. “I guess it’s one of the reasons I’m donating so much of my time to help y’all get the animal shelter off the ground.”
“You’re making sure that little pony’s life meant something.”
“I never thought of it that way. But maybe you’re right. I hope so.”
***
Heather fell asleep with her head on his shoulder long before they reached the exit to the industrial complex just outside New Orleans. Traffic had clogged up again when they passed the wreck site and everyone had to funnel into one lane to avoid the cleanup. When he got to the exit, he tried to make the turn slowly, but she sat up a little straighter and rubbed her face. “Where are we?”
“Almost there. We have two stops to make: Quinn wants us to pick up some hurricane shutters he ordered, and then we’ll go pay for the generators. They’re going to let us drop the trailer in the parking lot. They’ll load up the generators so we can pick them up whenever we’re ready.”
“What time is it?”
He glanced at the truck’s clock. “Noon thirty.”
She dropped her hands into her lap. “Oh no. Can we get everything done in time?”
“Nope, not unless we skip lunch, and I am not skipping lunch.”
She gave a sigh of resignation. “Well, that’s that then.”
“Yup.” He didn’t say anything more, just gave her time to come to terms with the fact that for the first tim
e in over a year, she wouldn’t be picking her kids up after school.
Adrian figured the kids wouldn’t care; they’d be happy to get their very own personal and private field trip to Bayside Barn. But Heather had the after-school pickup all balled up with her own feelings of loss and guilt and a need to make sure her kids felt safe. Telling her things would be okay wasn’t going to help anything, so he turned up the volume on the stereo and kept driving.
He drove about ten miles past the compressor company to the shutter place—which also made custom garage doors—and followed the signs to the drive-through warehouse. The load-up took less than ten minutes.
The whole time, Heather chewed on that fingernail and looked worried. With one knee crossed over the other, her supporting foot was arched up like a ballerina on tiptoe. She had removed her shoes awhile back, and her toenails, he noticed, were painted a shiny bright red. Her ankle jiggled nervously, rattling the cupholders. He decided to ignore all that and let her stew for a bit, since she didn’t seem to be in a mood to accept comfort or listen to reason.
At the generator place, he left the truck running and went inside briefly to find out where they wanted him to drop the trailer. The place was busy—who knew generators were in such high demand? It took a while, but he got instructions on where to park, along with an assurance that they’d load the generators when they had a minute. The lot would be closed by 7:00 p.m., but the night security guard would let him in to get the trailer if they got back later than that. He gave his name and driver’s license number for the guard to check in case that happened.
When he got back to the truck, Heather had moved over to the passenger seat, and she was talking on her phone. It sounded like she was speaking with someone at her kids’ school. She didn’t say anything to him but sent him a quiet smile.
The jiggle was gone, and she seemed more relaxed. He moved the truck, unhitched the trailer, and got back in. Heather was still on the phone; this time it sounded like she was talking with one of her kids. “I’m sure Reva can take y’all past the house to pick up your swimsuits.” She looked over at him and rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’ll tell her to do that… Yes, I promise… No, you will not be spending the night.”
Even though Heather didn’t have her phone on speaker mode, he could hear Josh’s whining voice loud and clear. “But, Mom…I want to spend the night at Aunt Reva’s. She has baby rabbits.”
“I know she does. And I also know that she’s not going to let you touch them.”
Adrian motioned for her to buckle her seat belt, which she did. Then he drove out of the parking lot and hit the road toward New Orleans. After a few more minutes of back and forth with Josh, Heather ended the call. Adrian gave her a questioning look. “Feel better?”
She released a breath. “I texted with Erin and talked to both of the twins.” She chuckled and slid a rueful glance his way. “Every dang one of them wants to spend the night at Reva’s.”
He laughed. “Aunt Reva is what I heard.”
“Yes. She has recently become my kids’ honorary aunt. Josh heard Abby call her that and decided she could be his aunt too.”
“So you were worried for nothing.”
“Seems that way, but don’t rub it in. I’m entirely willing to adjust my perspective.”
“Good to know. And what are you going to do with your new perspective?”
She stacked her hands in her lap and looked out the windshield with renewed interest. “I’m going to stop worrying about things I can’t control and enjoy our time in New Orleans.” Her stomach growled, loudly enough for both of them to hear. She clutched her belly and blushed, then laughed. “Are you ever going to take me out to lunch? I’m starving.”
“I’m driving as fast as I legally can.”
She looked at the speedometer and made a prim-and-proper face. “I’d say you’re going a little faster than the legal limit.”
He scoffed. “Are you hungry or not?”
She made the prim face again. “Hungry enough that I don’t want to waste time sitting by the side of the road while you get a speeding ticket.”
“Fair enough.” He took his foot off the gas and set the cruise control. They were almost at the exit to his loft in Bywater anyway. He planned to park the truck there and take her on a quick ten-minute walk along the river to one of the nearby restaurants in the French Quarter. “Let’s talk about food.”
Her stomach growled again, and when his roared back, they both laughed. “What are you hungry for?”
“Anything. Everything. I don’t care,” she said. “I’ll happily eat your arm if you don’t get me to a restaurant soon.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’d like to keep my arm, so I’ll do my best.” Enjoying the banter, he thought about taking her hand but then thought better of it. Best to go slow and easy, he decided. He wasn’t even sure what he hoped to accomplish by luring Heather into enjoying the afternoon bumming around with him in the Quarter. Maybe it was pride in showing off his hometown.
New Orleans, especially his corner of New Orleans, was a place unlike any other on earth. Or maybe it was his recognition that Heather needed and deserved a break, and he knew the day could be a fun diversion for them both. Whatever. He had to admit that his motives weren’t entirely clear, even to himself.
He parked in the lot outside his condo building, a converted brick warehouse by the river. “Here we are. Home sweet home.”
***
Heather unbuckled her seat belt and looked around. “Wow.” She gazed out the windshield at the renovated mellowed-red-brick warehouse. “What a beautiful view.” The side of the building overlooked the river, while the front faced the French Market and the New Orleans skyline.
“Do you want to come inside for a pit stop before we walk to the restaurant?”
She hadn’t thought about it until now, but her bladder was beginning to fuss at her just a little. “Yes, please.” Besides, she was curious to see where Adrian lived. A cautious corner of her brain raised the question of why she was curious. She decided she didn’t want to think too much about that.
Adrian walked around the hood of the truck to open her door while she slipped her tennis shoes back onto her feet and unplugged her phone from the charger. She tucked her phone into the side pocket of her mini-purse, then followed Adrian through a pressed-concrete patio where several beautiful people hung out beside a huge lap pool.
“Hey, Adrian,” one of the beautiful people yelled, waving to catch his attention. The scantily clad, stunning young woman rose gracefully from her lounge chair and glided toward them. Her tanned skin glistened with suntan oil. Her short hair was white-blond at the roots with blue tips that stood up in heavily gelled spikes. “Didn’t think you were coming home today.”
Heather had always been comfortable in her own skin. But as the model-thin bikini-wearing woman’s electric blue eyes looked her up and down, she couldn’t help feeling dumpy, frumpy, and old-fashioned.
Adrian made introductions. “Heather Gabriel, Jamie Echols, my neighbor from across the hall.”
Jamie gave Heather a warm smile and a slightly limp, slightly greasy handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Heather. Adrian has told me a lot about y’all’s animal shelter project.” She turned to Adrian. “Isn’t it about done? We sure miss seeing you around here.”
“I’ll be helping out there for a few more weeks yet,” he said with an easy smile. “And it’s not like I’m never home.”
Jamie laughed, a gentle trill. “Well, you’ve been gone enough to miss a package delivery. It’s on my kitchen table.” She reached out to take Adrian’s hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “Feel free to use your key to my place and pick it up when you go upstairs.”
“Okay, thanks.” Adrian eased his hand from Jamie’s and surreptitiously wiped his palm on his jeans. “We’ve got a lot to do today, so…” He looked toward the entrance to the fou
r-story brick building. “We’d better get going.”
“Sure, of course,” Jamie said smoothly, giving Adrian a wink. “I’ll see you later.”
As Heather followed Adrian through the glass doors into the building, she decided that Jamie’s long lashes and compelling blue eyes had to be fake. But fake or not, they sure were arresting.
On the elevator ride up to the fourth floor, Heather looked at her distorted reflection in the elevator’s brushed-steel walls. She remembered rubbing her face after waking up from her truck-nap on Adrian’s shoulder and wondered whether the mascara she had applied that morning was still on her lashes or had migrated down below her eyes. The patterned silver surface she stared into held no answers. Maybe, if she was lucky, she had stashed a not-quite-dry tube of mascara in her too-small purse.
Adrian reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. (Did she look that disheveled? She hoped not—she might have mascara in her purse, but she knew she didn’t have a hairbrush.) “Is everything okay? You’re being pretty quiet.”
“Just a little worried, I guess.” No way would she let him know she was feeling insecure after meeting the beautiful Jamie, who had given Adrian a key to her condo. “Wondering when I should call Reva about getting the kids this afternoon.”
He smiled, a quizzical quirk of his beautiful mouth. “I thought you were gonna call her a little after two, when she’s done hosting the tour group.”
“Oh, yeah.” Great. In her effort to not seem jealous, she had instead made herself sound stupid. “Of course. You’re right.”
The elevator doors opened onto a long hallway with hanging pendant lamps that cast puddles of light onto a polished-concrete floor. She followed Adrian to the end of the hall and waited while he unlocked the door to unit 404. The doors across the hall weren’t exactly opposite each other, but rather, each door on one side was located halfway between two doors on the other side.
Magnolia Bay Memories Page 17