Between Hope & the Highway (5 page)

Chapter 6

Rawson

Dragging myself into my hotel room, I stripped off my clothes and sank onto the king-sized bed. I had three days to myself before we headed to Florence for the next photo shoot, but doubted I’d get out of bed. This trip should have restarted my heart after flat-lining in California, but it’d only made me more depressed. I knew it was my own fault I explored the continent by my lonesome. The women I’d met and worked with were beautiful and uninhibited. It wouldn’t take much effort or euros to claim one to walk by my side during the day and play under the sheets at night, but I’d lost my taste for easy pickings.

I grabbed the remote, knowing I’d sunk to an all-time low to admit that. Since I was fifteen years old and Taylor Ann pulled me into the girl’s restroom at school to kiss me, I’d been gaga over females and determined to have fun with as many as them as I could before I died.

That changed six months ago.

For over three years, I’d participated in my school fraternity and earned not only the title of designated driver, but also the guy who’d never fall in love. In late November, we invited a sorority over for a party and I met Vanessa. We connected like peanut butter and chocolate. She was a first-year law student who advocated social issues, making me march beside her in a gay rights parade in downtown San Francisco and attend a global warming conference another weekend. Though I thought her causes silly, I followed her around like a puppy, not caring if I believed in the issue or not. I believed in Vanessa. That was enough.

Me, the guy who wouldn’t even pay a girl a compliment, suddenly paid out the nose to take that woman—no, goddess!—to fancy restaurants and sold-out concerts with backstage passes. To keep her smiling, I bought her roses, diamond bracelets, and tickets to Maui for Christmas. I even let her talk me into modeling with her on the side. I paid my dues to the altar of love to win her. That’s why she grew bored. The excitement was in the conquest; I knew that from experience. Once conquered, the defeated heart held no intrigue. I played the vanquished this time; Vanessa the unholy conqueror.

I left her one morning, swearing my undying devotion and telling her I’d be back after class. As soon as I headed to campus, I missed her and knew I needed to prove that so I didn’t lose her. An hour later, armed with a two-carat diamond engagement ring from Tiffany’s, I returned to ask her to be my wife. When I entered my bedroom to surprise her though, I discovered her and my traitorous roommate doing the hokey-pokey in my bed. I went after Jaden, but before I could tear the limbs from his body, Vanessa bashed me over the head with a metal lamp. In retrospect, I’m glad she did. The alternative would’ve been jail time for maiming my roommate, or worse.

Realizing I’d flipped through the channels twice, I shoved my cheating ex from my mind and grabbed my phone. Tapping Benny’s face on the screen, I listened to it ring once before I heard my little brother answer.

“Hey Rawson. What’s up?”

Just hearing his eager voice lifted my mood. “Not much. You getting any rides in without me?”

“Yeah, we’ve been going every day.”

“That’s great.” It really was. Maybe Dad had finally shed his jerk persona if he was taking time out of his busy schedule to ride with Benny.

“You’ll never guess what we saw yesterday.” His exuberance bubbled out of my iPhone.

“What?”

“A bull moose grazing in the shallows.”

“Did you snap a picture?”

“Sure did. Want me to send it to you?”

“Of course, bro. You should’ve sent it right away. It’s not every day I see a moose in France.”

“Not unless it’s a chocolate mousse.”

I laughed. How long had it been since I’d found anything funny? As I pondered that question, I realized it’d been since before Vanessa. She hadn’t been the kind of woman to tickle my funny bone. Panting, losing my breath, groveling, drooling, hanging on her every word—now she’d been an expert at inciting those responses, but she’d never made me laugh. It felt cleansing to do so again.

As my brother painted pictures of his exploits, I ached to breathe fresh air straight from heaven and ride across wide-open spaces with him. I was sick of buildings, crowds, museums, filth, and pushy broads. I’d tired of wearing Italian loafers and French clothes that made me itch so bad I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I longed to be a real man, on my horse with my hat on my head, roaming the ranch with my brother.

After ending the call, I determined to talk to my agent about the possibility of getting released from my contract early. It was time to stop running from pain and face life again, even if that meant confronting memories I’d rather keep buried. Emotions had made me irrational after Vanessa’s betrayal, and the blow-up with Dad after graduation hadn’t helped. But after chatting with Benny, I knew what I really wanted. For the first time in over four years, I yearned to be home.

Chapter 7

Liz

The tinkling of silverware contacting china shattered the awkward silence in the country-red dining room. I stabbed a bite of medium-rare steak as Benny spoke to me.

“Can you pass the rolls, please?”

Reaching for the serving bowl, I set it next to him.

The adorable kid grinned. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I ate a forkful of potatoes and wondered if he’d had anything to do with his dad inviting me to eat with the family. Not that I would complain. The cuisine and atmosphere beat the bunkhouse hands down.

“Are you riding after supper?” Mrs. Law asked. She was her handsome husband’s opposite—gentle to his rough, quiet to his bark, and kind to his brusque manner. I liked her. So did her daughter, Addie, who’d vacated her seat to play in her mom’s hair from behind the buttermilk wood chair.

“Pretty,” she said in her deep voice.

I tried not to let her distract me, but her habit of wandering around the table and touching everyone disturbed me. I wiped my lips. “Yes. We’ll probably ride out to the ridge.”

As Addie messed up her mom’s shoulder-length brown hair, I thought I caught a smile cross Mr. Law’s face. He was a difficult man to read. Having been coddled all my life by my dad made being treated so gruffly by my new employer unsettling. Did he approve of me or not? The question nagged at me. Eating beside him increased my anxiety. I couldn’t help wondering if he judged the way I held my fork or slurped my soup. What if I said something inappropriate, like pronouncing almond with an
Al
instead of an
Awl
sound; that freaked Mom out big time.

“We’re watching
Phantom Menace
tonight. Can you keep Addie out of our hair?” Benny asked.

Hearing her name, his sister ran over and pointed to his plate. She grunted and tapped her fingers to her lips in the sign for
eat
. Benny scowled, but gave her the last of his roll, even though her own plate of food sat untouched.

“Sure,” Mrs. Law replied.

When I smiled at Benny, he blushed. The poor kid seemed to have a crush on me. Too bad the cute bugger wasn’t a few years older. I wrinkled my nose as I considered reality. Mom must have cursed me because I’d attended the one church congregation in small town Montana containing an eager young man determined to date. When he pestered me, I agreed to dinner, but made it clear I’d pay my own way as a friend. If he wanted a girlfriend, he needed to search elsewhere. My heart wasn’t up for that.

After supper, I shoved my man problems aside and saddled up Blue Boy Renegade. I’d enjoyed getting to know Benny as we exercised horses each evening. He’d surprised me by the depth he revealed during our conversations. Maybe being handicapped had forced him to work on inner qualities rather than relying on outward appearance alone. He was a cool kid, and fast becoming a friend.

“Are you going out with that city slicker from church again?” he asked.

“Yep. We’re going to a movie tomorrow night.”

He made a face. “Why do you like that nerd?”

His jealous words made me feel special, not desperate like Mom did. She’d never been picky where men were concerned. Nerdy, good looking, arrogant, shy, homeless—she didn’t care, as long as I dated whoever asked.

“First off, he’s just my friend. Mackay knows that.” Knowing and believing were two different things though. I knew he liked me more than he should even though I brought up horrid subjects while we ate like baseball, diseases one can get from working with horses, and all my flaws. “Secondly, he’s not
that
nerdy. He’s definitely not ruggedly handsome, but he’s okay.”

Benny wrinkled his nose. “You deserve better than okay.”

I giggled. “I could kiss you for that remark.”

“I’m serious.”

I shrugged and focused on the rays of sun shining through low-lying clouds. “Looks are overrated. I’ll take kindness over a pretty face any day.” And Mackay was kind. I had to give him that. He hadn’t even batted an eye when I described how I threw up for three days after my appendix was taken out because I was allergic to anesthesia.

“I think you should go for a guy who’s both kind and handsome.”

I had. And doing so had broken my heart. I leaned down to pat Blue Boy. “That combination is rare. Do you have anyone in mind?”

He turned three shades of red as he urged Han into a trot. “I might,” he called back. “And he’ll be light years ahead of that fuzzball Mackay, I promise.”

I grinned and urged my horse to follow. The kid was a breath of sunshine after living in a dark cave. His
Star Wars
obsession made me chuckle. He always threw out quotes and had determined to turn me into a fan. The last three weekends, he’d made me roll a dice to decide which of the six episodes in the space saga we would watch as he filled my mind with crucial data only an uber-geek would know—like whether Han or Greedo shot first in episode IV’s cantina scene. According to Benny, Han shot first in the original version, but George
Almighty
Lucas changed that in the cleaned up wussy version because he didn’t want Han to come across as a cold-blooded killer. I didn’t know how I’d survived not knowing that.

Spending time with Benny made me feel like I had a little brother and partially filled the hole in my heart Justin’s death had ripped out. It was easy to see past his puberty-induced acne and scrawny build to know he’d be super handsome someday. His dark hair and eyelashes that framed striking blue eyes were a lady-killing combination. Still, I feared his crooked neck and limping gait would draw all the attention. It’s what I noticed first. Now I realized how blind I’d been, for Bentley was the most beautiful person I knew, inside and out. I just hoped his peers would recognize that. Kids could be cruel.

Chapter 8

Bentley

Placing my sketchbook in my desk drawer, I hobbled over to the mirror to check my reflection. Smoothing my shirt, I practiced holding my neck straight. Over the last week, I’d added twenty seconds to my time. After holding the agonizing position for a minute, I walked next door and knocked. It hadn’t been hard to convince Dad into letting Lizzie eat with us, but he surprised me when he told her she could move her belongings from the closet-sized space over the garage into Rawson’s old room.

“Come in!” I heard her call.

When I entered, I found Liz primping in front of a full length mirror.

“Hey, Benny.”

“Hey.”

She curtsied. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful…like always.” I didn’t see the point of her trying to impress Mackay Benson though. He was as stale as week-old bread.

“You’re sweet.”

“What movie is he taking you to see?”

“I have no clue. Hopefully something light to take his mind off everything that’s happening.”

“What’s going on?”

“His dad has prostate cancer.”

“Oh. That’s a bummer.”

“Yeah.” She crossed the room to grab her satchel.

“I can tell he really likes you.”

She rolled her eyes. “How can you tell that?”

“He holds your hand and looks at you like you’re his world.”

She rumpled my hair. “You’re full of it.” When the doorbell chimed, she threw her satchel over her head and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “I better go. See you in the morning.”

As she hurried downstairs, I touched my cheek. If she kissed Mackay like that, the poor guy was probably half-way in love already. And Lizzie probably had no clue.

From my bedroom window, I watched the guy lead her to his rusty Ford Escort with a cheesy smile on his face. I frowned, thinking she could do much better. After they drove away, I puttered around with a new painting until it was morning in Italy. I knew I’d wake Rawson, but wanted to be first to wish him happy birthday. Pressing his face on my home screen, I listened.

“Hey, Big Ben,” he answered groggily on the fourth ring. “What’s up?”