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Authors: Charissa Stastny

Between Hope & the Highway (51 page)

BOOK: Between Hope & the Highway
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Gary pulled out all the stops. He took me to an expensive dinner at the Bellagio hotel and then to a show called O. Dumb name, but it was absolutely spectacular with acrobats diving into water to the beat of exotic music and contorting their bodies in unimaginable ways. Even though I still felt annoyed by his earlier interactions, I managed to shove off my reservations as he wrapped an arm around me. Gary had a lucrative career, a hobby he loved, and important connections. He reminded me a lot of Justin. I should be thrilled to have his attention.

But when he pulled into my driveway to drop me off, I had to psych myself up for his possessive kiss.

“I love you so much, Elle.” His hand moved under my dress to touch my thigh.

That stupid nickname and his wandering hand made me shove him away. At his questioning look, I said, “I’m not the make out on the second date type of girl.”

He scoffed. “I’m not a make out on the second date kind of guy either, but I can’t help myself around you, Elle. Your mouth says no, but your eyes say go, go, go!”

He pulled me closer and began what Rawson always called nibbling. No overwhelming ecstasy jolted through my veins from his lips making contact with my sensitive neck though. Gary’s mouth didn’t tantalize; he conquered.

“Ow!” What did he think he was doing? Sucking snake venom out of me? I squirmed out of his arms and opened my door. “I gotta go.” I shut my door.

As I walked to the porch, he rolled down his window. “I’ll be over tomorrow night at six sharp. Wear something nice again, and don’t be afraid to show off those sexy legs.”

I gulped. He hadn’t mentioned going out again, and now he just assumed I was his for however long he was in town? “Ummm, I don’t think—”

He started backing out of the driveway. “I’ll dream of you, Elle,” he shouted from the street.

I slipped inside the door and made my way to my room in the dark. Locking the door behind me, I ripped off my stupid dress. “Moron,” I muttered. I don’t know if I referred to him or myself. Unclasping the diamond necklace, I threw it on the carpet and sank onto my bed. I don’t know how long I sobbed or why I even cried, but it was long enough for my eyes to sting and my chest to ache. Daddy had been right. Gary was Justin all over again, except the first time around, I’d been too blind to realize just how much Justin walked all over me. He never really listened to me because it was all about him and what he wanted, and being the silly girl I was, I handed over my dreams in exchange for holding onto his coattails.

Throwing sweats on, I grabbed a DVD from a case on the floor and put it in the player. Even though it was almost one in the morning, I started
Phantom Menace.
Every quote reminded me of Benny and Rawson. But Yoda’s wisdom literally slapped at my heart.

“Fear is the path to the dark side…fear leads to anger…anger leads to hate…hate leads to suffering.”

“Believe me, I know,” I growled at the twenty-eight inch screen on my wall. I’d learned firsthand how those emotions made one suffer. I still battled negative thoughts whenever Mom opened her mouth. But worse, my irrational anger had made me push away the one man I truly loved…and now I was stuck with a jerk who looked good on the outside, but did nothing but make me feel weak, vulnerable, and worthless.

“No more!” I growled. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again. I refused to lick up scraps guys like Gary threw at me.

As the sun came up, I put on my gaggy polyester uniform and headed to the job I loathed. Six hours later, after clocking out, I drove my Fiat hatchback across town. My chest tightened the closer I got to Gary’s hotel, but I couldn’t turn back.

When I pulled into the parking lot, I texted him that I was there. Seconds later, he sent me a winky face emoticon with his reply:
Come on up, baby. I’ll show you my room.

I was certain it was posh and swanky, but I wasn’t going near it.
No, thanks. Meet me in the lobby.

It took the vain man ten minutes to show his face. I smirked at his horrified expression when he spotted me in all my
Hot Dog on a Stick
glory. My colorful striped shirt would never win a prize in a cool contest, and Gary was all about appearance.

“Elle,” he hissed as he clamped onto my arm and practically dragged me into an adjoining hallway void of spectators. “What are you doing here in that…monstrosity?”

It was hard not to laugh. I’d purposely not changed out of my gaudy uniform in order to see his reaction. “I just came from work. Sorry. I probably smell like mustard.”

He winced and let go of me. “You didn’t tell me you worked fast food.”

“Yeah, it’s great,” I lied. “I make eight bucks an hour and get Sundays off.”

His sneer was very revealing.

“Hey, I wanted to give this back.” I pulled the diamond necklace he’d given me out of my purse and held it out to him. “I’m thinking we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

“Yeah.” He slipped the expensive gift into his pocket. “That’s probably for the best.” His judgmental gaze dismissed me. “Long-distance relationships rarely work.”

Thank goodness for that…and thank goodness for my striped uniform that had definitely made this whole breakup super easy. I’d have to remember that in the future.

After he left, I drove to a truck stop to change into jeans and an old t-shirt. Then I drove to the edge of town and hopped out of my car. The smell of freshly turned hay, manure, and dust made me sigh. Throwing my hands out to the side, I twirled and wondered why I’d avoided this place for so long. This was heaven.

Walking through the gate, I followed the rhythmic sound of hoofs to the arena. There I saw my dear mentor, Viktorya, putting a beautiful Paint through his paces. I leaned over the railing and became lost in the beauty of horse and rider becoming one. When she noticed me, she trotted over and dismounted. Pulling off her helmet, she shook out her dyed red hair.

“Liz? Is that you?”

I felt self-conscious standing before her in my beggar shoes. “It’s me.”

“How many years has it been?” She tethered her horse.

“Two.”

She surprised me by pulling me into a smothering hug. “I’ve worried so much about you ever since I read that your father died. I tried calling, but you must have changed numbers. I haven’t known how to reach you.” When she released me, her hands cradled my cheeks. “How are you?”

Her concern was my undoing. I lowered my head and began to bawl as the heartache of the past year rushed out. Why had I cut this dear woman out of my life? She’d been like a mother to me—at least a mother who cared.

When I reined in the waterfest, I sniffed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re my daughter, no? If you feel like crying, you cry.” She gestured to her house. “Should we go in and feed you? You look hungry?”

I shook my head. Vikky had always felt I looked underfed. “I came to hang out with the horses. Can I feed them or exercise them for you?”

Her brown eyes glistened in the harsh desert sun. “Have you been with horses at all since you returned from Montana?”

I shook my head.

“I’m glad you came then.”

“I’ve been living with Mom since October.”

She pulled me into her arms. “You poor girl.” Just having her hold me felt therapeutic.

“It’s been difficult. Since Dad died, she’s become unbalanced.”

She muttered something not very kind in Russian.

“I’ve been feeling burnt-out.” I bit my lip. “That’s why I’m here. I need horses. They understand me…and I get them.”

“And it gives you a break from that witchy woman, no?”

I laughed. It might have been the first time I’d laughed in months.

Vikky patted my cheeks. “I’d love to have you around again.” She stepped back and eyed me. “Womanhood agrees with you. You are krasavitsa. Beautiful, no?”

Was it no wonder I loved this woman? As we led the Paint to the stable, Vikky kept prying information from me.

“Tell me about your love life. Is there a special man?”

“Thank goodness, no.”

“What? No hunky hero to sweep you off your feet? How’s that possible?”

“I was seeing a guy, but he was part of the problem.” I grimaced. “I broke up with him on the way here. I don’t care how many dinners or necklaces a man buys me, he doesn’t own me.”

“Amen, sistah.”

I giggled. Whenever Vikky tried to sound hip, she came off sounding stiff and superior.

“Your hero will come along someday.”

Inhaling the scent of the stable, I smiled. I hadn’t even worked with the horses, yet I felt peace. “I don’t need a man to make me happy. Just getting away from Mommy Dearest does that.”

We both snorted. It was cleansing. I meant no disrespect with my words; they were simply the truth. My mother seemed to hate me. I knew her mental disorder was partly, or even mostly, to blame, but it still hurt being on the receiving end of her spite.

Time passed like a snap of my fingers as I helped Viktorya and reintroduced myself to her horses. After the sun set, I wrapped her in another hug. “Thank you.”

“Come back as often as you like.”

“I will.”

It’d been a day full of happiness and wonder. I would definitely return as soon as I could get away again. My sanity depended on it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 89

Rawson

As I crested the rise and saw Vegas sprawled out before me, I couldn’t help but think of Lizzie. This had been her home. Did she still have family somewhere in this vast desert metropolis. I hoped so. I needed answers to her whereabouts. Even after searching the internet and calling Viktorya, I’d gotten nowhere. But Viktorya had informed me that the man I thought might be Lizzie’s uncle was actually her father. Belle was her middle name, and had somehow been typed into the obituary instead of Elizabeth.

Viktorya needed new stock, so I offered to drive down after calving season to bring her some horses. I hoped to find more leads while I was down there. When Dad found out I was going, he booked visits to Temeculah and Phoenix to sell some quarter horses and buy some foals from a champion racer. Now, after eight days on the road, I’d made it…well, almost. I still needed to maneuver my truck and trailer down I-15 in rush hour traffic. In this city, rush hour seemed to last twenty-four hours. Made me grateful to live in Montana.

After I merged onto I-95 North, I relaxed my grip on the wheel. Exiting the freeway on the outskirts of town, I worked my way to the Lohman’s neighborhood and parked on the side closest to the stables. As I walked past the trailer, I spoke to the horses eyeing me out their windows.

“Hold onto your saddles. I’ll get you out in a few minutes.”

Entering through the back gate, I headed to the ranch-style house and knocked. Viktorya’s husband answered.

“Hey, Rawson, how was the drive?” Mr. Lohman patted my shoulder. “It was good of you to make this trip. I’m much obliged.”

“No problem.” I glanced around at the southwest decor. “Your wife around?”

“She had to run to the feed store for some grain. I’m sure she’ll be back any time.”

I checked my watch. “Sorry I’m late. I got caught in traffic. Do you mind if I start unloading?”

“Go ahead.”

Leaving him, I threw down the ramp and led horses one by one into empty pens. Viktorya pulled up behind me as I led the last horse down the ramp.

“Is that one of mine?” she called as she stepped out of her Dodge truck. We’d never seen eye to eye on vehicles.

“Yep. Isn’t he a beaut?”

“I’ll say.” She took the rope from me and started cooing as she petted the gray. “Do you think he’ll go white or flea-bitten?”

“Both parents are pure white.”

She led him to a stall. “Good.”

Anticipating her next question, I said, “He turned two and is saddle broke. I figured you’d want ’em young enough to train to walk like ballerinas.” She knew my feelings on English style. I was a Western man.

“You figured right.” She led the gray into a stall as I returned to my truck.

As I locked the trailer, I heard a sweet voice from the past.

“Hey, Vikky, I’m here!”

I stiffened. Looking past Viktorya who stood in the shade of a mulberry tree, I caught a glimpse of a willowy form waving as she disappeared inside the stable.

I sprinted to Viktorya’s side. “You told me you didn’t know where she was.”

She gave me a mischievous smile. “I didn’t. Liz showed up four days ago, begging to help in her free time. The poor girl’s been stuck with her wicked witch mother since her dad died.”

My heart thudded against my chest. I wanted to run into the stable and scream Lizzie’s name, but a quick glance at myself made me wince. I resembled Pigpen from the Peanuts cartoon. Dust coated my jeans and I’d spilled Pepsi down my shirt when someone cut me off coming up Cajon Pass.

“What do I do? I have to see her, but I’m a mess.”

“Calm down, Cassanova.” She squeezed my arm. “Grab a change of clothes and clean up in the guest bathroom next to the kitchen.”

BOOK: Between Hope & the Highway
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