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Authors: Charissa Stastny

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BOOK: Between Hope & the Highway
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“I’m really tired.” Actually, I doubted I’d fall asleep for hours with how my body buzzed.

“All right. If you insist.”

He led me back into the dark house. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, he lifted his hand to my cheek. “I like stargazing with you.”

My lips twitched. “See you bright and early.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He turned to leave.

“I mean it,” I called after him as loud as I dared since everyone else had gone to bed. “Don’t be late.”

“I’ll try, baby.”

I frowned as he disappeared down the stairs. Why did I have the feeling he’d be late again?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 49

Rawson

Long shadows draped the land as we finished our crazy ride and I parked the ATV behind the garage. As I cut the motor, Lizzie released her grip around my middle and hopped off. As she shook her hair loose from her helmet, I practically drooled. With her curls all free like that, I found her wildly stunning.

She narrowed her eyes. “Stop staring.”

I laughed at her knee-jerk reaction. “You are so dang beautiful.” Maybe if I told her that enough, she’d begin to believe me.

“You’re a schmoozer.”

“Haven’t been called that before.” I loved poking fun of the names she called me. “Been called doozer, loser, and boozer, but never schmoozer.” I pulled her toward the house.

Inside the kitchen, I picked her up and set her on the counter. “Sit right here while I make you the best hot chocolate you’ve ever tasted.”

I moved around the kitchen, collecting ingredients to pour into the Cocomotion machine. When the drink was complete, I approached with the frothy beverages. Stepping up to the counter, I pushed her legs apart and pressed in between. My body reacted like a spinning top released from a string. It banged, popped, and zinged chaotically as it tried to find equilibrium, which Lizzie always…Always!…threw off.

Handing her a mug, I tried to tamp down the desire to lay her down and make her feel what I felt.

“This is delicious.”

I took a sip, savoring the hint of roasted hazelnut and cream. “It’s a secret recipe, but I’d be willing to share it with you for a kiss.”

“Nice try.” As I wiggled closer, she lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t you believe in personal space?”

Pressing even closer, I wrapped my fingers around her mug-holding hand. “I love personal space.”

“Invading it?”

“Savoring it.”

She rolled her gorgeous brown eyes.

Setting my mug down, I cupped her chin. “Thanks for making me happy.”

The golden flecks in her eyes almost sparkled. “You did all the work tonight. I should be thanking you.”

“Have I made you happy?” I wanted nothing more than to accomplish that task.

She raised her hand to my chest. “Of course.”

My heart raced double time at her contact. Lust and passion must have shown in my gaze, because she blushed and dropped her fingers.

“I should probably go to bed. It’s getting late.”

And poof! The moment was over. Lizzie had mastered the art of dousing flames between us.

I glanced at my watch and threw out a sarcastic barb. “Yeah, it’s closing in on 9:30. You wild woman, you.” Pressing my lips to her forehead, I ran my hands up and down her back. “Let me give you a goodnight kiss.” I nuzzled her ear. We’d been dating for a month. Surely I’d earned kissing privileges by now.

“N-no,” she said in a breathy gasp that turned me on faster than a gas flame.

I tipped her head and saw desire burning brightly in her eyes. “You know you want me to,” I whispered in a seductive tone.

She gulped. “I have to get up early.”

I reluctantly released her. “Thanks for going riding with me. We’ll have to do it again.”

She grinned as I put distance between us, totally killing my ego. “Definitely.”

After leaving her at the stairs, I trudged outside and paced. I really liked Liz, but she drove me crazy. I needed physical release…or a beer. With Lizzie, I could have neither. I wore ruts in the grass as I tried to keep my mind from turning to Damon. Chance hadn’t been able to stay with him for the last two weeks due to a broken ankle. Should I go out there tonight and check on him? I knew I shouldn’t. For the past two weeks, I’d left Lizzie underhanded and could tell she was disappointed every time I hauled my sorry butt into the stables late with another excuse she was too smart to buy. Yet Damon had no one else. If I stayed with him, he wouldn’t seek out the druggie crowd.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I pressed his contact page. When he answered, I headed to the garage. By how his voice trembled, I knew he was aching for a crystal high. If I didn’t distract him, I’d lose him again.

“Hey, man. I’m on my way out. Why don’t you pick up some of the garbage laying around so I don’t trip over it when I get there?”

He laughed, and I knew he’d be fine once I arrived. I’d make it up to Lizzie later, but didn’t dare leave my friend to his fate tonight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 50

Liz

On my last round with Sidekick Shooter, my gut clenched as I noticed Mr. Law enter the arena with the foreman by his side. The intimidating man rarely set foot in my domain, which suited me fine.

I approached and dismounted. “Hey, Bart. What can I do for you?” I tried to sound confident.

“Where’s Rawson?”

I bit my lip. It was going on noon, but his son still hadn’t arrived.

“He hasn’t shown up yet,” Chance replied from across the aisle. He limped over on his orthopedic boot. “That’s why I’m helping where I can. He’s been tied up with Damon lately.”

By how red Bart’s face turned, I knew that had been the wrong thing to reveal. I believed Rawson wanted to keep his cruddy friend a secret.

“He’ll be here soon.” I tried to do damage control. “He’s been working late to make up time.”

Bart wasn’t swayed. “Meet me in my office in ten minutes.” He turned and marched out the way he came.

My shoulders slumped as I led Shooter to his stall.

“I don’t envy you,” Chance said.

I didn’t envy me either.

As I trudged up the stairs to Bart’s office, I wanted to puke. He’d been furious when he left the arena. Maybe he would fire me for being an awful manager. Obviously, I had no control over his son.

“Shut the door,” he barked as I entered his domain.

I bit my lip and closed the door on my fate.

“Have a seat, Liz.”

As I sank into the leather chair across from him, I picked at my cuticles.

Mr. Law leaned back in his swanky chair. “How long has my son been shirking his duties?”

“He hasn’t shirked his duties. Rawson’s extremely capable with the horses and is much better at dealing with customers than I am.”

“But he’s showing up four hours late every day?”

I made a face. “Not every day.” A couple days he hadn’t shown up at all.

“Abe wondered why your productivity had decreased even as you seemed to be working more hours than ever. Now I know. My son’s taking advantage of your kindness.”

“He feels terrible and has been trying to make up the time.”

Bart’s expression softened. “I appreciate your loyalty to my son, but he doesn’t deserve it. He’s put you in a bad spot if you’re having to rely on Chance.”

It was irritating working with Chance, especially since he had that bum foot. “I’ll talk to Rawson about getting to work earlier.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll transfer him out to the herd and start looking over resumes. Until we hire someone, Chance can keep helping you out.”

“I’m sure I can work it out with Rawson. He’s much better than Chance, even working fewer hours. I’m sorry I let things get so behind you noticed.”

His lips twisted into a faint smile. “You have nothing to be sorry about, Liz. My son’s used you badly. He has a knack for that. He won’t use you anymore though.” He stood, bringing our meeting to a close. “If you need anything, let Abe know. We’ll work with you until we find an acceptable replacement.”

I gulped. How had everything spun out of my control? “Thank you, sir.”

As I left his office, emotions swallowed me whole. I didn’t want to lose Rawson. We worked well together. And what would happen to us if he went away? I blinked back tears, angry that I’d begun to care for him. I should’ve kept my distance like I’d planned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 51

Bentley

Life sucked worse than a vacuum. Since Dad discovered Rawson was spending time with his loser friend and leaving Lizzie short-handed, he put him over the cattle and only gave him one hand to help him. Usually there were three. I guess Dad didn’t want Rawson having any free time to waste with Damon. My brother’s stupidity had made life difficult for everyone. Lizzie’s workload doubled since Chance with his gimp foot was as useless to her as a fork in soda. Rawson only got home every week or so to restock supplies, so I had only Addie for company.

With it being Thanksgiving, I thought things would get better. Dad had given Rawson the day off from the cattle, and I’d looked forward all week to some guy time with my brother since Lizzie had flown home for the holiday. But Rawson texted that Damon was doing bad and asked if I would cover for him until he could get home. He didn’t show until dinner was long over and the sun had set. So much for my plans for a fun-filled day.

I sank onto the couch and watched as Addie attacked him like he was the best thing since sweetened chocolate. She didn’t know better. Rawson laughed and fell to his knees when she smacked him with an empty gift wrap roll.

“Oh, no! I’m getting attacked by a Jedi knight.”

She giggled and proceeded to whack him over the head with the cardboard tube again.

“Aghh, Benny! Grab me another light saber, man. Quick.”

I ignored him and pulled out my sketchbook from under the sofa. He could get his own dang weapon.

Mom left and returned with another roll from her craft room.

“Thanks, Queen Amidala.”

Addie must have found that hilarious because she convulsed on the floor in laughter.

Rawson held the tube in both hands and made amazing light saber sounds as he mimicked Darth Maul’s moves from
Phantom Menace
. Not that I was paying attention. I wasn’t. My sketchbook sat open in my lap so I could draw.

I flipped back a few pages to a charcoal drawing of Addie with her tongue inside her mouth. The good old days…before the accident. As I peeked at her playing with my brother, I compared the sketch to now with her tongue hanging out like a slobbery dog.

Rawson rubbed his tube against hers. “Use the Force, Addie.”

She gave him a wide-mouthed grin and reached up to fondle his face. Our sister sucked at Jedi games.

“I feel the Force in you, young Padawan.”

“Roth-un funny!” She whacked him again.

In between laughing and ducking her hits, Rawson cried, “Join me, Addie. Together we can rule the galaxy.”

Emotions raged as I watched them goof off together. Part of me wanted to join in; the dark side felt more ticked off than ever. Why didn’t Rawson demand she hold in her tongue? Addie would do it for him. But my brother cared more for that idiot Damon than any of us. We got his leftovers.

Shoving my sketchbook and pencil under the sofa, I hobbled from the room. Mom followed me into the kitchen and made a peanut butter banana sandwich. She set that and a glass of chocolate milk in front of me. As I dug into my snack, she ran her fingers through my hair.

“You look so much like your father.” Her eyes glistened, but thankfully she didn’t cry. “You’re amazing, son. I wouldn’t change anything about you.” She gave me a smile and left.

What the heck? It was almost as if she’d read my ugly thoughts and had known I needed a pick-me-up. Her words did comfort me. I thought when she got all teary she might be remembering the good old days before I got bent and wishing I was whole again. But she’d sounded sincere when she said she wouldn’t change anything about me.

Rawson peeked into the kitchen. “You up for
Empire Strikes Back
, kid?”

Mom’s kindness had lifted my spirit. Maybe I could forgive my brother for being a dummy with his friend. It wasn’t like holding a grudge had given me any satisfaction. I followed him down to the basement.

As he put in the DVD and set up the stereo, I pondered Mom’s mini-intervention. She had a gift for knowing when I needed her, but also knowing better than to smother me. She understood Rawson too; he never flustered her. Dad should take lessons. And with Addie, she was a saint, giving my sister endless devotion when I would’ve been tempted to swat her backside.

Tears filled my eyes as I thought of Detrick. He’d suffered from middle-child syndrome, being overshadowed by Rawson’s greatness and my baby cuteness. That made him cling to her like a Momma’s boy. But she’d loved him with all she possessed. Not many people could say they’d been on the receiving end of that kind of love. In that way, Detrick had more than most people who lived a lifetime, because Mom gave him, and kept giving us all, the best gift she had—herself.

BOOK: Between Hope & the Highway
12.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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