Gravel shuffled beneath shoes on the driveway in front of his cabin, and he froze. Quick, light footsteps climbed the steps, followed by a soft rap on the door.
Robbie jumped up, leaped over the glittery mess of elastics, and yanked open the door without taking a single breath.
Not Keira. Instead, he was met with a mane of wild red hair and a pair of green eyes that matched his own. With all her weight on the heels of her boots, all it would take was a finger poke and his sister, Ryann, would topple backward.
“Hey, Ryann.”
“You okay?”
Well, I accidentally crashed my ex-girlfriend’s proposal. How do you think I’m doing? What a fool he was, giving in to his curiosity to join the gathering crowd in the park. So what if he recognized half the cars? He hadn’t been invited. After the movie let out, he should’ve taken Anabelle straight home.
“Right as the river.” Robbie quirked his smile, to which Ryann rolled her eyes in true big-sister fashion. Who was he kidding? She knew him too well.
Ryann stared hard at him now. “She said no, Robbie. She turned John’s proposal down.”
Something sparked within his chest. No? After dating the guy for . . . what? Two years? She said no? Ryann had to be wrong. Theirs was a teasing relationship, even now as adults, but she wouldn’t pull this trick.
“She said no. Right there in front of everyone.” A hint of hope flashed in her eyes. “I mean, she did it with grace. Lifted him off his knee and whispered in his ear for the longest, most uncomfortable minute in Montana history. Then he turned to us all and thanked us for coming.”
Well, that’s good, I guess. John Garfield was a nice guy. Principal at the local high school where Keira taught geography. Robbie had never heard an ugly word about him. And from what he’d seen around town, he’d treated Keira like a precious jewel. Almost as good as Robbie had. Which made this turn of events even more surprising. She had no reason to say no.
Unless . . .
“I’m here to babysit. But you may want to button your shirt a bit, Hasselhoff, and maybe wipe off that purple eye shadow.”
Robbie jerked a hand to his eyelid. He thought he’d washed off all that gunk Anabelle put on him long before he’d left the house earlier.
“Kidding. But seriously, button the shirt. That’s gross.”
Any other time he’d love to banter with his sis, but his head felt like a moose had climbed in and made a den. “Whoa, back up. Why are you going to babysit again?”
“So that you can go get Keira. Don’t act like you haven’t been praying about this ever since you first heard about them dating.”
Robbie blocked her entry. “Nah. I think I’ll turn in.” He tugged at his collar. “Too tired to even button my shirt. Good night.” He eased the door closed on his sister’s confused face.
No, Keira wouldn’t be looking for him. Not after what he’d done to her. He wasn’t exactly keen on another go-round with her, either. He’d like to keep his heart in one piece for the time being, even if it had other ideas.
Oh, Keira. If only missing you was the worst of my concerns . . .
He returned to the kitchen counter, where the long business envelope stared at him. Vivian hadn’t even had the nerve to use a return address or write her name. But the handwriting was a dead ringer for the signature on Anabelle’s birth certificate. As he lifted it closer to the light, the pink ink glittered. Anabelle Matthews c/o Robbie Matthews. Care of. Two words had never been truer. Robbie sucked in a shaky breath. What could she possibly have to say? He knifed through the envelope’s seal. A sheet of puppy stickers slid out and landed on the Formica. No note. No I’m sorry.
He should be happy. After nearly four years with no contact, this was something. And a little girl needed her mother. Even a mother like Vivian.
Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling slithering inside him. For Anabelle’s sake, he needed to be smart. And that certainly wasn’t his strongest trait.
Ping.
Robbie slid his phone out of his back pocket. A notification read: Kat Wanderfull posted a pic. Clicking on the box, the Momentso app opened. The square photograph showed a midnight-blue sky dotted with hundreds of stars, some brighter than others.
The caption read:
Just me and a trillion stars #infinite #Prov356 #lonelinessisntforthefaintofheart
Robbie typed out a comment as MRCustom. A generic name, sure. But he’d only joined the app to get ideas on custom home projects from fellow builders. Plus, he’d never intended to use it for actual conversations. If he had, he might’ve come up with a better profile picture than a stack of river stones.
MRCUSTOM: Who better to trust with your heart than the Creator of those stars?
KAT WANDERFULL: @MRCustom, I can always count on you to say the right thing at the right time.
Robbie stared at her comment and the empty box below it, begging for a reply.
“Daddy?” Above him, Anabelle, in her pink nightgown, clung to the railing of the spiral staircase. Her lip quivered, and tears glistened on her flushed cheeks. “I had a bad dream.”
Robbie raced up the steps. When he reached Anabelle, he swaddled her in his arms. Her shuddering breaths soaked through his flannel shirt. “You’re safe, Kitty Kat. Daddy’s here.” And he always would be.
CHAPTER TWO
Ladies, let’s keep the whispering to a minimum.” Keira focused on the big clock on the wall. The school day was nearly over. Then she’d be free. For a couple days, at least.
On Friday afternoons, electricity always hummed beneath Keira’s skin. With only two weeks before the end of the school year, that hum buzzed at a higher frequency and included an occasional shock with each thought of her upcoming summer. Wide-open spaces, fresh air, sunshine, and a whole lot of solitude were precisely what she craved.
Especially after this week. She didn’t need to ask what the girls were whispering about. The geography teacher turned down the principal’s proposal in front of the whole town? Gossip galore.
So far the rumors weren’t even original but stolen from some classic teen movies. That she’d only dated him on a bet. That he’d paid her to date him to make him more popular with the students. But her personal favorite? That she was the result of a weird science experiment where Principal Garfield brought a Barbie doll to life.
The truth was way more interesting. Of course, her students would never know it. No one would.
“Ms. Knudsen, they’re talking about the way that construction worker looks in jeans. It’s offensive to hear girls talking about men in such vulgar ways. May I go see the counselor?” Gabe asked from the back row.
Keira placed a hand on her hip and rocked to the side. “Gabe, you have four minutes until the final bell. Ladies, please remember the school code about respect for others.”
Peyton squared her shoulders to her classmate. “You’re jealous because no one is talking about the way you look in jeans.”
“Just ’cause you haven’t said anything doesn’t mean you haven’t noticed, princess.” Gabe leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.
Peyton waved him off. “Ms. Knudsen, didn’t you, like, almost marry the guy doing the teachers’ lounge remodel? Robbie Matthews?”
Keira’s throat seized. She turned away from the other gaped-mouth students. Even a swig from her water bottle didn’t help. In fact, she nearly choked on it. “Last time I checked, this was Geography class. Not Ancient History.”
The classroom’s stale warmth was nearly intolerable. Keira lifted her ponytail off her neck. She should have brought the box fan from her apartment to combat this old building’s terrible air circulation. Yes, that was the problem. Poor circulation. Not what’s-his-face. “Just a reminder that your Wonders of the World paper is due next Friday. Any questions on the rubric?”
Minutes later, whe
n the bell rang, Keira was right on her students’ heels out the door. All that stood between her and the open road was grabbing some photocopies for Monday’s class. She paused outside the office door.
John’s voice carried through the open doorway. He was talking to Sheila, the administrative assistant, about prom details for tomorrow night. Keira and John were supposed to attend together as chaperones before he went and ruined it all by proposing.
She scurried past the doorway. The copy room linked to both the office and the teachers’ lounge. Rather than John’s moping puppy-dog eyes, she’d risk glares from her fellow teachers, most of whom clearly took his side and questioned her sanity. Could she blame them? John Garfield was a sweetheart, and he deserved to be with someone who thought of him when the nights turned cold.
A gaggle of giggling girls stood outside the door of the teachers’ lounge, staring in.
“Excuse me, ladies.” Keira sneaked past them. Inside the lounge, she was assaulted with the smell of new construction, a cloud of drywall dust, and the sight of the most handsome man she’d ever kissed. He was standing on a ladder near two sections of drywall that had been mudded together. He wore a plain white T-shirt and jeans. And, well . . . the girls in class hadn’t been wrong.
From behind her, the whispering continued, followed by the unmistakable shutter sound of a cell phone camera snapping a picture.
Keira spun to face them. “Have a good weekend.” She dismissed them with a nod. Maybe she was wrong, but it sounded as if one of them said, “Get him, Ms. Knudsen.” Inside, Keira’s nerves were dancing beneath her skin. Outside, she smoothed her ponytail between her thumb and forefinger.
Robbie stared straight ahead at the drywall seam, but his arms, tanned and muscular, paused.
Keira hurried to the copy room and pulled a sealed manila envelope with the print order tab taped to it from her mailbox. After shoving it into her satchel, careful not to crush her road atlas, she steeled herself. She owed him nothing. Not a glance. Not a word. Ancient history, like she’d explained earlier. After she stepped around the doorframe, she met his eyes, and suddenly every thought melted like butter on hotcakes.
Robbie, still atop the ladder, had turned sideways. His steady gaze held hers. She could count the number of times they’d shared a look since their breakup five years before. This was why. Those eyes of his didn’t speak pain—they preached a whole sermon on the subject. “Keira.” The sound of his voice snaked inside her and coiled around her backbone. Unwelcome, but not unpleasant.
“Hey, Robbie.” Her own voice was sharp, her attempt at sounding casual failing. Sickened by the effect he still had on her, she clenched her fist around the strap on her satchel. Had she not matured at all since he’d first spoken to her in that hallway so long ago? Yes, he was still good-looking—maybe even more so. She’d seen him around town, too, and he clearly hadn’t lost his charm. Only last month, he’d been flirting with the new waitress at Ollie’s right next to the table she shared with John.
Silly John. Why did he have to hire this man to do this job? “I heard you’d been contracted to do the remodel. Couldn’t you have waited a couple more weeks until summer?”
“I had some time, so I thought I’d get started. Plus, I’ve got plans this summer.”
“Kind of inconvenient for the teachers, isn’t it? Doesn’t seem too smart.” Her own words tasted bitter. She still knew how to hurt him most easily. Leave it to her to take aim at his biggest insecurity.
He shrugged. “Maybe not. But if it were up to my scheduling, this would’ve been done last fall.” He jerked his head toward the office. “Your boyfriend strung me along for months.”
“Yeah, well, not everyone acts on their every impulse.” As the hurt rippled across his brow, the sourness in her stomach raged into full-blown nausea. Insecurity #2? Check. She swiveled on her heels then headed to the door, needing to flee. Before she got sick. Before she weakened. Before she apologized. After all, he’d betrayed her.
“Same old Keira. Dropping grenades and running away before you can see the damage you’ve done.”
She swung around and stomped straight to his ladder, stretching herself to her full height. “What’s that mean?”
Robbie grinned. Some guys did all they could to quell a girl’s emotions. Not Robbie. He’d always loved getting reactions out of her. Said he loved seeing her come alive. He shook his head. “Nothing. It’s over.”
“Only for one of us, apparently. I’ve moved on.”
Returning his focus to his work, he picked up a sanding block and scrubbed the plastered seam. “I saw that on Saturday. Why break one heart when you can break them all?”
His words cut straight through. Keira should have fled when she’d had the chance. She should leave now. But no. He didn’t get to play the victim.
Keira narrowed her eyes at him and stepped closer. “Didn’t your dad teach you to look at someone when you insult them?”
Robbie let the sanding block fall. It hit the floor with a clap, and a cloud of dust mushroomed outward. He descended the ladder, each clanging footstep jolting her heart, yet she stood her ground. The way he loomed over her once his boots hit the tile should have been intimidating. A good nine inches taller, and shoulders as wide as a school bus, he was a force, to be sure. He could snap her like a twig if he wanted. But the only thing equal to his strength was his gentleness. His cologne, bold and oaken, mixed with the dust. It peppered her nose and warmed her like a steamy bath.
In their time apart, his face, now glistening with sweat, had matured nicely, broadening across his jaw. Shallow wrinkles etched the corner of his eyes. His scar, the one he’d earned in a college fight defending her, was barely noticeable on his cheekbone. Auburn hair, usually streaked with tinges of blond, now held a dusting from the plaster. Some strands had fallen over his forehead, catching his eyelashes. Her fingers itched to brush them free. Standing this close to him, it wasn’t the only way her flesh was tempted to betray her will.
Based on the way he studied her mouth, she had a feeling he battled the same temptation.
“Like I said, it’s over.” Robbie stepped past her, lifting his hands in the air so as not to brush against her.
“Afraid I’ll bite?” she asked.
He snickered. Bending down, Robbie palmed a thermos and lifted it to his side.
“What’s so funny?”
With his shirt, he dusted off the lid, and a sprinkle of particles descended like snow. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” He popped open the top and poured a stream of water into his mouth. An endless stream. His Adam’s apple bobbed again and again. Yet, she stood, waiting. Always waiting for Robbie Matthews. Wasn’t that the story of her life? Enough was enough. With a huff, she stalked toward the door until fingers gripped her wrist, stopping her feet and her breath.
“Keira, wait.” Robbie, still holding the thermos in his other hand, wiped a stream of water from his chin on his shoulder, like a little kid. This time, his eyes were wide, vulnerable.
At that moment, her heart quaked and the shell she’d built around it splintered. But a hairline crack. Easily fixable. Like a drywall seam. Tape it, mud it, and sand it down. It’d be good as new. All she had to do was pull away from his grasp.
His hand, covered with mud and dust, contrasted against her silky, periwinkle sleeve. He loosened his grip slightly, exposing her bracelet, which slid down over her wristbone. He thumbed the braided leather cord. Fluorescent light glinted off the silver infinity symbol.
Robbie blinked hard. “Keira, I’m—”
Knock-knock-knock. “Ms. Knudsen, may I see you in my office?”
Tearing her eyes from Robbie’s, she found John in the doorway, his jaw set. Even though they hadn’t spoken since Saturday’s debacle, she’d heard him through the intercom every morning and afternoon.
“Of course.” Keira slid her wrist out of Robbie’s
grip and pretended she couldn’t still feel his touch warming her skin. Unwelcome, but not unpleasant.
* * *
* * *
Robbie moved the ladder to the next seam that needed sanding, this time on the opposite side of the room. After patting the sanding block on his jeans, he pressed it against the dried mud. Up and down, he scrubbed the wall until his bicep burned with the fury of a Yellowstone hot spring.
Why had he accepted this job? It was hard enough to be in this school where he’d constantly been reminded that he couldn’t measure up. At least not inside the classroom. Put him on the football field, and he was the hero. More than that, this was where his memories of her began. He pushed even harder against the sanding block until the pressure propelled it out of his grip.
Leaning against the ladder, he caught his breath, which was no easy feat. His lungs struggled to get enough oxygen, and he couldn’t blame the dust.
“I miss you, Keira.” Through the vent on the ceiling, John Garfield’s voice resonated.
Robbie climbed another step and cocked his ear to the sound.
“I miss you, too.” Keira didn’t sound convincing.
“It was foolish of me—making a scene like that. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot. I’m sorry.”
From his back pocket, Robbie’s phone buzzed. Whoever it was could wait.
“John, please don’t apologize. It’s just . . . we talked about this. I’m not ready for marriage yet. There’s more I want to see, do, explore.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” His voice took on some gravel. “I get it. I made a mistake—rushing you like that. Guess I figured if the mood was right, you might reconsider.”
Silence. Again, Robbie’s phone vibrated.
“It’s not about the mood.” Keira’s voice was soft now. Had she moved closer to John? Robbie prayed she hadn’t. “It’s not even about us. At least I don’t think it is. It’s me. I want marriage, kids, the whole thing. I do. One day.”
This Wandering Heart Page 2