Caught In Flames Page 17

  Jenny, on her side, her belly tightening every few moments, looks at me and tosses her head, looking a bit weak .

  “Hey, it’s Emma Astor,” I say to the secretary. “I’ve got a mare in labor, would Kyle be able to head over ?”

  “I’ll see if he can. Good luck, Em.” The girl hangs up and I put my phone in my pocket. Grabbing the foaling gloves, I pull them on and get behind her. With a quick check that’s all habit, I make sure the foal isn’t breech and sigh in relief .

  Patting her hindquarters, I talk to her in a calm tone of voice. “Soon you’ll feel several hundred pounds lighter,” I joke. Her ears swivel, and I see her belly harden and tense, and know there’s not much time before there’ll be a slick, wobbly little foal standing her beside her .

  I’ve always loved watching mares throw foals. And I already have plans for this little one. If he’s a colt, he’ll be a new stud. If it’s a mare, she’ll be sold off at a hefty price once she’s weaned and ready to be on her own .

  It’s sad to bring them into the world and watch them leave, but that’s the way it is .

  Still, I always cross my fingers and hope for colts .

  And as I sit back, ready for a new addition, I realize the rough start to the day isn’t going to ruin the beauty of it all .

  Chapter 5

  Kieran

  I ’ve never met a woman as stubborn as that Astor woman. Everything about her grates on me. Still, as obnoxious as she is, I can’t stop thinking about how it would have felt to grab her and press her against the wooden siding of her house .

  I’ve anger fucked plenty of women, but none of them have been angry in return .

  Generally, they whimper and play at never having felt this way before. But I imagine The Astor woman would meet my anger with her own and we’d set the world ablaze .

  I groan as my cock pulses. Jesus, I must be off my rocker, being so turned on by a woman that clearly hated me .

  She’d told me no, and judging by the look in her eyes, she’d gotten off on it .

  But it was a small matter. Life has taught me to have back up plans. And I’ve got a good one. One that even that cold-hearted bitch can’t destroy. I’ll have her ranch, she just doesn’t know it yet .

  On the way home, my phone rings and I answer it. Olivia’s sweet voice fills the truck cab. “Daddy!” She says, and I can’t help but smile at the joy in her voice. She never fails to brighten my life. Even failure stings a little less as her love shines in her words .

  “Hey Vi. Are you being good?” I ask. The school had told me she would have to take a few days suspension since she’d started a fist fight between two boys. Sandra, while angry, was there to watch her .

  “Of course.” Olivia’s voice is all sweet innocence. “Are you mad at me, daddy?” She asks, her tone decidedly sad .

  I think carefully before responding. “I’m not mad. But I am disappointed.” I’m not going to lie to her. “I’m also sorry I was mean this morning,” I tell her, needing to reiterate that point .

  “It’s okay. I know you were upset because someone else was mean.” She sounds thoughtful, and I find myself surprised once more to how perceptive she is. Right now I’m sure she’s applying this knowledge of how the mind works to various situations in life she can’t explain .

  “I’m going to try to be better about things like that,” I tell her, “and I need you to try to be better too, okay ?”

  “Will it be hard?” she asks, and I smile .

  “All the best things in life are hard, right ?”

  She sounds dubious at best. “Not math. Math is hard and I hate it. Are you coming home now ?”

  I try not to laugh at her dislike of math. I don’t want to encourage such thoughts, but it’s painfully cute. “I am on my way home. Did you decide what you want to do ?”

  “What are my options?” she asks, sounding so adult my heart aches. She’s growing up so fast. Sure, she’s so obviously a child, but some of the things she does and says remind me that she’s getting older day by day, and it’s heartbreaking .

  “Well, you asked if you could take riding lessons. Are you still interested?” I ask, holding my breath. I needn’t have worried. She squeals into the phone and I can’t help the little laugh that escapes my lips .

  “You mean it?” she asks, “Even though I got in trouble ?”

  I tiptoe around this landmine. “I mean it. But remember, you told me you’d be better. I’m trusting you .”

  “Okay, daddy,” she says, suddenly calm and serious. “Can I call ?”

  “Wait until I get home, okay?” I say, wanting to hear the Astor woman’s voice again. Startled by the turn in my thoughts, I tell Olivia that I’m going to get off the phone, but I’ll see her soon .

  W hen I get home, I head right in and come face to face with Sandra. She ducks her head and sidles off, clearly still pissed at our stand off last night. But Olivia doesn’t give me a chance to do anything else. She grabs my hand and leads me into the dining room .

  My cell rings and I pull it from my pocket. Connor again. Touching the red button, I smile at Olivia. “Go ahead,” I tell her, and she lights up and picks up the phone. She holds her breath while dialing, and I’m tempted to join her .

  “Hello, River Acres Ranch. Emma Astor speaking .”

  My body reacts to her voice, and I feel my blood pressure climb .

  “Hi! I’m Olivia. I need to schedule riding lessons.” Olivia gives me a thumbs up .

  I smile and return the gesture. On the other end of the line, the hesitation worries me .

  “Well hello, Olivia,” Emma says. “Generally I have parents make the appointments .”

  “It’s okay,” Olivia says, “Daddy’s right here .”

  “I am,” I say, hoping the distance will warp my voice enough that Emma doesn’t recognize it .

  “Good!” Emma says, “When would you like to start lessons, Olivia ?”

  “Tonight?” Olivia says, sounding hopeful .

  On the other end, Emma laughs, but it’s a kind sound. “I like your spirit, Olivia!” she says, “But we had a colt born today. So the soonest I could start is the day after tomorrow .”

  “Deal,” Olivia says, and I smile back at her. That little grin of hers is infectious. “What time?” she asks, ever the responsible little girl I raised .

  “How does four pm sound?”” Emma sounds like she’s falling head over heels already, and I breathe a sigh of relief. This plan worked. I worried she’d be booked, busy, unable or unwilling to teach Olivia. Lessons are such a tiny part of her ranch, I figured she’d be fully booked through the new year .

  Thank the lord for little blessings, I guess .

  “Good,” Olivia says, before asking a nervous question. “Can I see the baby horse when I come out ?”

  “Of course!” Emma sounds thrilled. “I look forward to meeting you in person, Olivia,” she says, and Olivia echoes the sentiment .

  “Bye!” She says, and they hang up .

  Olivia launches herself into my arms the second the phone is hung up and I wrap my arms around her shoulders. “Thank you,” she says, pressing her forehead to mine .

  I close my right hand in a fist and double tap my chest. “Still beating,” I tell her. Her smile is instant. She follows suit .

  “Still beating,” she whispers .

  “Are you hungry?” I ask .

  She nods .

  “Want to order pizza?” I ask, and she nods .

  “Can I order it?” she asks, and I shrug .

  “You don’t even need me, jeeze,” I tease, but her eyes widen .

  “That’s not funny,” she says, sunny mood gone in an instant .

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her, pulling her close and pressing my lips to her forehead. “You’re just growing into an independent young lady .”

  “I’ll need you forever,” she whispers, and I squeeze my eyes closed .

  Deep in the back of my mind I hear my father whispering that
I’m failing her .

  Chapter 6

  Emma

  I get off the phone with the little girl, my heart dancing. I look over at Jenny and her new little colt. With trembling fingers, I dial Kyle’s office. They’re quick to answer .

  “Yeah,” I say, after exchanging pleasantries. “She gave me a healthy colt, so no rush.” My mind glazes over as I think about the little girl I’d just talked to and her excitement. Lessons are something I decided to do, in hopes of fostering the same love of horses my father nurtured in me in the next generation of children .

  And who knows? Maybe the girl’s daddy is a cute guy who’d be interested in a woman like me. Wouldn’t that be a great way to meet a handsome bachelor ?

  Of course, I’m not totally sure he’s a bachelor, but something in the way the girl pointedly said she’d bring her daddy leaves little doubt in my mind that mom is either not in the picture or is not too very active in the girl’s life. Which is heartbreaking. I’ve heard of single dads, but I’ve never actually met a guy who is the full time caretaker of a child .

  Then again, my life has been pretty sheltered .

  Still, I think it’s amazing. Everyone gives single moms all these props, but single dads seem to fall between the cracks. It’s a sad reality of life, maybe because they seem so fewer in numbers, but I have the feeling their fight is harder .

  And already, my heart is aching for this fracture little family even though I’ve got no idea what exactly happened, and even though it’s none of my business .

  The curious side of my soul wants to know everything, but the part of me that feels like dad’s watching says I need to keep my tongue under control. It’s none of my business. I need to repeat that like a mantra and focus on the task at hand .

  “Hello?”

  “Kyle!” I say, standing up and looking over the stall door at the vet. He flashes me a great big grin and I apologize. “Sorry if you were waiting for me out there .”

  He shakes his head and makes his way to my side. “I came right back. I know how you get.” He opens the stall and we stand side by side in the big box stall. “He’s a good looking little guy .”

  I nod as he strokes Jenny’s neck. Kyle has been the vet we’ve had on call for the last four years. He’d been fresh out of vet school, but dad trusted him. Something about his face, his love of animals, and that even the elusive barn cats liked him made him someone dad liked .

  “You’re looking pale,” he says to me, and my heart stops. My face blazes red hot and I stare at the colt .

  “Uh, yeah. Long nights, you know, waiting on this little guy. I’ll get some good sleep now.” The lie slips off my tongue, and I duck my face in shame. But it’s too embarrassing to tell him that I don’t take good care of myself, that I haven’t had a decent meal in months, that with dad gone, I find it hard to even find the point of getting out of bed some mornings .

  But depression is normal after losing a loved one. It’s no body’s worry but my own. I’m not going to pile my problems on someone just for expressing concern. Tears sting in my eyes and I hear Kyle’s apology in his words .

  “That was out of line, I’m sorry.” He peeks at Jenny’s teeth, then begins to fuss over her, and I take the moment of quiet to compose myself .

  With a quick sniff to hide the tears, I stuff my hands in my back pockets. “No worries. Just new addition stress, you know ?”

  He nods without looking at me, and I breathe a quick sigh of relief and watch the new foal’s wobbly legs. “I’m going to go make a few phone calls, okay ?”

  “No problem,” he says, “I’ll stop in before I leave, okay ?”

  I agree and escape the mare box. Making a beeline for the house, I don’t stop until I’m locked in the bathroom. Splashing cold water on my face, I stare at the sink. It’s heart wrenching that well-meaning words are enough to destroy me like that. Crying in front of the vet? I feel like an idiot .

  Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice .

  “It gets easier,” I whisper to myself in the mirror. I have to believe that. I have to. It’s the only thing that keeps me going some days. It’ll get easier. Gripping the edges of the sink so tightly I feel my knuckles begin to ache, I stare at myself and focus on taking deep, cleansing, calming breaths .

  Everything will be okay .

  I’ll be okay .

  Once my heart has returned to a more reasonable rate, I decide to take a break and make myself some lunch. Chores can wait for a little while. I won’t be any good to anything for anything if I don’t stop and take care of myself .

  Walking through the kitchen, I realize I haven’t gone shopping in a while. So I settle on making myself some spaghetti. A knock at the door prompts me to call out .

  “Come in !”

  I set the pan of water on the stove and dump in the noodles as Kyle comes into the kitchen .

  “Everything seems good,” he says, leaning on the door frame .

  “Thank you. I know I stress too easily,” I say, turning to lean against the counter. His gaze meets mine, but I look away .

  “Your dad would be proud,” he says, and I feel my throat close up .

  Miserable, I force out a thank you that I don’t feel. I doubt I’m fooling him for even a second .

  To my surprise, he closes the gap between us and pulls me into a hug. Part of me wants to pull back, but my arms wind around his shoulders and I cling to him, the tears rolling down my cheeks .

  After a moment, I back off, feeling awkward. “What do I owe you?” I ask, needing to remind him - and myself - that he’s here on business .

  “Nothing.” He steps back. “I’ll see you in a few weeks to check up on the new little guy, okay?” he says, his tone gentle and not pushy .

  “Thank you,” I say, making a mental note to pay him after he leaves. I’m not going to let him wiggle into a position either of us might regret. He’s a good looking guy, he’s about my age, but he’s also the only vet in spitting distance. I’m not about to fuck things up by getting personal – well, any more personal – or letting him get to a place where he feels like I’m taking advantage of him .

  In any other situation, I’d be taking him up on his silent offer for comfort. But he’s the vet. I need to keep things professional. My animal’s lives might depend on it in the future .

  “Have a great day,” he says, “call me if you need anything .”

  Unable to speak, I merely nod .

  “Emma,” he says, and I look up at him. His blue eyes are crystal bright and his dark lashes striking in the narrow beam of sunshine lighting him up. “I meant it. Your dad would be proud .”

  “Thank you,” I whisper, the words feeling like sandpaper on my throat .

  With that, he leaves, and I stare after him until the water boils over .

  Chapter 7

  Kieran

  I open the door and feel his presence before I see him sitting on the bench beside the front door. “What are you doing here, Connor?” I ask, annoyed at his refusal to take a damned hint .

  “You’re not answering my calls, mom’s asking after you, and we need to talk.” Connor’s wound up tighter than a tinker toy, and I want to turn him the other direction so he’ll click-clack right off my porch .

  “I’m a busy man.” It’s not a lie. But the look on his face as he glares up at me is enough to run my blood cold. There’s an icy fury in him blazing white hot. He blames me for everything. And maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s all my fault .

  “What do you want?” I ask, tired of all the drama and long-buried hatred .

  He stands, straightening up all six feet six inches of his height. Eye to eye, toe to toe, we stand. Staring one another down like rival wolves, we stand silent. “Call your fucking mother,” he growls, the sneer on his lips telling me exactly what he thinks of me .

  He moves in closer until only inches separate us. “You’re not too damn busy for her. Pull your head out of your ass and remember where you came from. Who yo
u came from .”

  A cold, hard smile tugs the corners of my lips. “Fuck you, Connor. Get the hell off my porch .”

  He doesn’t move, though, and I cross my arms waiting for him to man up and walk the hell away. Connor’s not a fighter. Our youngest brother is the one more likely to throw a wicked right hook. But he’s not here right now .

  “You won’t stop until you kill her too, will you?” Connor asks, his ice blue eyes freezing over .

  And I break. Blinking, I look away from him and toward the front door, praying Olivia is up in her room, far away from the conversation taking place here. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say finally, my gaze flicking back to Connor .

  He nods his head, a mocking expression on his face. “Of course. Nothing is ever your fault, right? Perfect fucking Kieran Knight. Hey, I think I saw a bench in town without your face on it. Should I send the location to your PR department so they can fix it ?”

  I’m tired of this fight. He’s my brother. My blood. My family. We weren’t always at each other’s throats like this. We were best friends as kids. We hid from dad’s rage fueled episodes together. We stood up to him and protected mom from him together. We took beatings so she and our youngest brother wouldn’t .

  But now we might as well be mortal enemies .

  “That son of a bitch deserved what he got,” I say .

  Connor’s eyes widen. He’s quick to wave a finger in my face. “How dare you? That man was your father.” He’s dangerously quiet .

  “That man ,” I say with as much derogatory hatred as I can muster, “beat our mother. He wasn’t a man. He was a fucking piece of shit coward woman beater. How can you be so loyal to him?” It baffles me. We grew up together. We saw what he did. We felt his wrath .

  But Connor feels bad for the fucker .

  Connor seems to take a second to gather himself. His answer is so poised I find myself listening. Really listening, perhaps for the first time ever .