Brazing (Forged in Fire #2) (14 page)

“Go, Bridger, go,” Willa yelled at me and as I bob-tailed around so that I was in a position to leave, I saw why. At least three men were now on the porch—all with shotguns.

Without a care for my truck or my poor suspension, I high-tailed it out of there. It wasn’t until we’d gotten a good ways down the road that Tate finally let out her breath. Her arms were crossed over her chest again and I knew she was pissed about me and the way I’d acted.

She could be mad all she wanted—I wouldn’t let anything happen to my girls.

Nothing.

I realized the protection mode then. I wanted to protect Tate like I did my mother and my sister and Cami. Sometime in all this, I’d lumped her in with the rest of the females in my life.

The instinct to keep my family secure had voluntarily umbrella-ed itself over Tate.

It changed everything.

I’d never felt that way about Jesse. She’d made it clear in the beginning that she was a free spirit. She decided when we went out, how we went out and for how long. I’d thought it all normal. She was my first girlfriend and on that front I’d failed to listen to my more basic instincts screaming at me that something was off.

When I shut up and shut off my brain, nothing like that drummed up for Tate.

The only thing I knew with Tate was that I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her and I had a newfound love of church.

Chapter Fourteen

Tate

“We’re going where?” I slammed a hand on my hip and tried to read through the lines. Only these words were written in a different language and upside down.

“Cami and Stockton invited us over for dinner, Tatum. We’re going to the Wright’s house.” My Grams could have been the poster-child for preacher’s wives everywhere, but she didn’t fool me. I saw real fear in her eyes.

“Cami invited us?” There was more to this story than had been given to me. I needed a decoder ring to decipher exactly what and who was behind all this. And I would bet a hundred bucks it wasn’t the person I wanted it to be.

“Willa was the one that called I believe.” She pushed her shoulders back and glanced at the kitchen. “Maybe I should bring something along.”

“We have to leave in thirty minutes,” I reminded her. “What can you make in thirty minutes?”

She pressed her lips together and stared at the ceiling for a long time. When her gaze finally fell back to mine, she looked practically terrified. “Almost anything.”

I suppressed my giggles, because she happened to be completely serious. Grams didn’t talk bad about anybody. And I knew she didn’t mean anything bad by Cami, she just couldn’t help herself. She also couldn’t lie to herself. I hadn’t been brave enough to try the mincemeat Cami had sent over a couple days before. In fact, nobody had… not even the dogs.

Grams had said a prayer over it and tossed it out. If that were the kind of meal I had to look forward to tonight, I should be as anxious as my grandparents.

“Get cleaned up,” she told me, “I’m going to make your granddaddy a sandwich.”

“You’ll spoil his dinner!” I yelled after her.

She waved me away and got busy in the kitchen. I thought about asking her to make me one too, but decided I needed as much of my appetite as I could keep. I had just started to feel good again after this last round of treatment, but my stomach was still a fickle beast. If Cami served anything like the pie she’d made for Thanksgiving, I was going to need some of the herbal supplements my doctor was always trying to push on me.

I shut myself in my room and stared at the clothes I brought with me. Other than the nice outfit I’d packed for Thanksgiving, the rest of my weekend wardrobe consisted mostly of sweats and t-shirts. I had anticipated a lot of time on the sofa, curled up with a good book and a puke bucket.

I sighed. Now I was headed over to Bridger’s house to meet the family.

The back of my neck itched at the thought. I had known most of them my whole life, but Stockton’s wife would be new. And I knew they were different people now anyway. Same as me.

Dinner at the Wright house should be as simple as it always was. Except nothing was simple before.

I’d had a crush on Bridger these past few weeks. A massive, toe-curling, heart-pounding, blissfully-fun crush. But then we’d kissed. And it had been epic and earth-shattering and all the things a first kiss was supposed to be.

I loved that kiss. I loved thinking about that kiss and replaying it in my head. I loved the feel of his lips against mine, the pressure of his hands on my body and the taste of his mouth. I loved that he threw himself into that moment like I hadn’t seen him do since we were kids. And what I loved most was that he didn’t run from it. Well, maybe he did at first. But then he’d been nice. And sweet. And kept up all that sweetness for the rest of the night.

He’d held my hand!

My heart had nearly beaten out of my chest at the feel of his rough fingertips against my soft skin. My skin still tingled from every place I’d had contact with him.

But that scared me too.

I was supposed to be the girl that embraced life and lived every day with a
carpe diem
attitude. I was the girl that jumped off bridges and planned skydiving trips because this very day could be my last and I wanted to live as much of it to the fullest as I could.

But Bridger wasn’t bungee jumping or tackling my fear of heights. Bridger was something permanent and lasting. And the more time I spent with him, the more invested my heart became.

Yesterday was a full-body shove toward feelings I didn’t know I could have for somebody. It was like I had been standing at a very safe distance from the edge of a cliff and somebody had come up and pushed me as hard as they could. I’d gone rushing and stumbling forward, catching myself just before I dove right off the ledge. And now my feet were there, kicking rocks down an endless drop-off, feeling the gusts of wind as they assaulted me from the cavern below.

What was down there?

How far did it go?

If I fell, would I survive the fall?

If I survived the fall, would I survive the rest?

I let out a steady breath and mentally shook myself. My feelings for Bridger had developed quicker than I ever thought they could, but I could adjust. I could
carpe diem
this too.

I picked up the jeans I wore yesterday and a black sweatshirt that was more trendy than sloppy. I paired it with some black boots and pulled my hair into a low, side ponytail. I applied some soft makeup and slipped in silver studs. Then called it good. Not my best effort, but I looked better than death.

I met my grandparents by the garage door and we walked out to my Granddaddy’s beastly Lincoln together. The drive over was animated as usual. My Granddaddy pointed out all the places that had changed since I’d been up here last and my Grams passed along any news she thought I would be interested in.

Most of the news had to do with the woman we were on our way to see. Cami had apparently been sent here by neglectful parents after she’d had a rough time of it in California. Her uncle and aunt, whom I knew well, were rather hard on her at first but apparently all was well now. She’d met Stockton through work he’d done for her uncle and they’d fallen in love as she found a sort of redemption here.

I was completely sucked into the fairytale romance and by the time we pulled up the driveway at the Wright’s house, I couldn’t wait to meet her. She sounded… amazing.

I loved that she had this whole reformation thing going on. I could easily relate to that. Plus, she knew how to catch a Wright boy and keep him. I could probably pick up a few things from her.

A new flood of nerves fizzed through my belly.

My grandparents looked just as nervous as I did.

“Come on y’all, it’s not going to be that bad.”

They turned around in their seats and stared at me. I snorted a laugh at the matching looks of incredulity on their faces.

“Think of it as servicing the community?”

My granddaddy grunted his thought on that one but opened his door. Grams and I followed suit and just as we’d all stepped out of the car, the screen door slammed open and Willa came bounding down the steps.

I had just enough time to brace myself for her hug as her skinny body slammed into mine. “Hiya, Preacher!” She greeted happily. “Preacher’s wife!” She squeezed me tightly and then pulled back. “Hi, friend.”

I laughed at her bubbling happiness. “Hi, friend.”

She looked back over her shoulder at where my grandparents had disappeared inside the house and then back at me. “You didn’t happen to bring anything extra with you, did ya?”

“Extra?”

She lowered her voice. “Like a side dish? Or dessert?”

I laughed again. “Nope. Sorry.”

“Well, darn.” She linked arms with me and started tugging me inside. “I should be used to it by now, but I… Well, you’ll see. It’s not something anyone can get used to. I don’t even think Cami can get used to it.”

“Cami can get used to what?”

I looked up to see a gorgeous blonde standing in the doorway with two hands on her hips. She looked suspicious and welcoming all at the same time. I hoped the welcome was for me and the suspicion for Willa.

“Cam, have you met Tate yet?” Willa deflected like a pro.

“I don’t believe we have had the pleasure.”

“You hear that hick accent?” Willa elbowed me in the side. “She’s picking it up fast.”

Cami shook her head incredulously. “I don’t have an accent,” she said. Then she looked at me. “I don’t. They’re lying. All of them are lying.”

I pressed my lips together. “Have you started with the ‘y’alls’ yet? Once those filter in, there’s no going back.”

I look of absolute horror passed over her face before she shook her head out again and offered me a sly smile. “They won’t get to me,” she promised. “I will not become a hillbilly.”

“It’s not so bad!” Willa took a step away from me so she could cross her arms over her chest.

“I’m a former hillbilly,” I told her. “I can help you recover. It’s not easy, but it can be done.”

“Thank, God!” Cami exclaimed at the same time Willa said, “Hey!”

“What are y’all doing out there? Let the girl inside already!” A deep voice called from the house. I didn’t recognize the voice right away but whoever it was had the same kind of thick cadence Bridger had. Since I’d met and talked to West before, I had to assume the voice belonged to Stockton.

Cami and Willa flanked me on either side as we walked into the house. A smell wafted from the kitchen that made me want to turn right around and wait in the car, but I pulled from all my stores of polite society and forced my feet to stay in place. It was just food, just one meal. I could survive this.

We could all survive this.

“You must be Tatum,” Stockton stretched out his massive hand and I nearly shied away from it. I stared at Stockton’s arms and tried to make sense of the disproportion. His right arm was almost double the size of his left. Both were very muscled, but his right side was almost freakishly so. I vaguely remembered something about smithing. Blacksmithing? Wasn’t that with a hammer?

“Tate,” I corrected him. “You’re… Stockton?”

“I am. Welcome,” he smiled at me and for a second I saw a window into Cami’s world. This smile was why she gave up California and her west coast life of glam and privilege. That’s all it took, I was sure of it.

Bridger appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. He had dressed up a little tonight in a white oxford with the sleeves pushed up to his forearms and faded jeans. His short hair had been combed, but his feet were left bare.

I couldn’t take my eyes off those darn feet. Couldn’t he put socks on or something? They were very distracting. And adorable. And my heart thumped heavily in my chest and my mouth grew dry.

I stretched my own toes in my boots and fought the urge to lick my lips.

I shared one kiss with him and a hand-holding session and now his feet were causing me to stare lustfully and unabashedly. What was wrong with me? Since when did I have a foot fetish?

A throat cleared and I realized it was his. I dragged my gaze up his distracting body and met those sparkling green eyes of his… those highly amused, sparkling green eyes of his.

“Hey,” I squeaked.

“Hey,” he said all smoothly and manly back. “Dinner’s not ready yet. Want to go for a walk?”

“Yep.”

I walked toward him in a daze. I could feel the eyes of everybody in the room on us, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. He stepped aside and led me through the kitchen, out the back door and onto a pretty porch area that overlooked his backyard.

I sucked in an amazed breath and found myself at the railing, leaning over a breathtaking view of the Tennessee Mountains and quaint Wright property.

Fall-toned trees stood tall and century-like, their long, laden branches stretching over the browning grass and outbuildings. A newer looking barn had been built fifty yards away. It was a beautiful building that made me feel warm and squishy inside. I loved the idea of Cami and Stockton working hard to build it, to paint it, to keep it nice. It spoke of a home made from people that loved each other and dreamed of a future together.

Twinkle lights blinked at me from all the lower branches. They crisscrossed over the whole backyard and in the soft light from the setting sight turned an already extraordinary place into one of the most beautiful sights I’d ever seen.

“This is incredible,” I whispered.

“I’m starting to think so too,” Bridger murmured.

I looked over at him to find his eyes already on me. A shiver raced down my spine and my hands started to tremble.

“My mama hung the lights,” he explained in a tender voice. “She used to make my daddy dance with her back here.”

I knew what happened to his parents, but this was the first time he’d spoken about them. I had never lost someone I loved like this, but I knew what it was like to grieve. I knew what it was like to have expectations and a perception of the world and then have all your hopes and ideals smashed to pieces while you watched helplessly on. I knew what it was like to believe in something you thought could never change and then have it crumble to ash in front of you. I knew what it was like to hurt in your bones and ache in your chest every moment of every day.

I put my hand in Bridger’s and squeezed without saying a word.

We stood there for a long time, just holding hands and staring out at the beauty of his backyard.