Straddling the Fence (19 page)

“You’ve made up your mind?”

Eli was propped against one of the porch posts, trying to
look calm, but his body language read much differently. His shoulders were
tense, the line of his mouth tight. His gaze stayed trained on the yard as if
he found the trees fascinating. He liked nature, but not that much, and the
resident fox was nowhere in sight.

Sitting on the edge of the porch, Bellamy nodded, finding it
difficult to look at him too when she answered. “I’m going to take the job.”

Silence stretched until she grew uncomfortable. She got to
her feet, rubbed damp palms down the legs of her jeans and stepped up onto the
porch. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

He finally glanced over, frowning. “What should I say,
Bellamy?”

Frustrated, she huffed out a breath. “I don’t know.
Anything! Fuck off. Have a nice life. Keep in touch. Or…” It took two tries to
swallow her dread. “Or maybe that you might not want me to go.”

In two long strides, he was in her face. Long fingers
wrapped around her biceps, keeping her from backing away from the fierce look
in his eyes. “God, how can you think I’d want anything else? I want you to stay
more than I want to wake up tomorrow. I love you, Bell. I think I’ve loved you
since that night we spent together in Perry. But this isn’t up to me. I’m not
allowed to make the decision for you. You have to want to stay for your own
reasons, not because I gave them to you. Otherwise it won’t work. You know this
too.” His tone gentled and his hands slid up her arms, over her shoulders to
tunnel beneath her hair. “All this time I thought helping you put down roots
was the way to make you see that you belong here. I was wrong, though. Seems
what you really need are wings.”

She nodded, the building tears finally spilling down her
face over his confession. She loved him too, and she’d been way off base in
thinking he didn’t care if she stayed or went. But he was so right. If she
didn’t go, she’d always wonder if she’d made a mistake. If things went sour
between them, she’d resent him for asking her to give up this incredible
opportunity. Going might be the biggest blunder of her life, but the only way
to know for sure was to take the chance and live the experience.

“Eli, I never set out to hurt you.”

“I know that, honey.” He brushed the dampness from her
cheeks before cradling her face in his hands. “The day you showed me that
letter from Roger Clay I wondered if we’d find ourselves in this exact
situation—with you leaving me and Serenity behind to follow your dream. And
even if I had known for sure this would be the outcome, I’d still be begging
you to break my heart. Go, Bellamy. As bad as it’s killing me to say the words,
you need to go. Then you’ll know.”

She touched his mouth, awestruck by his beautiful
bittersweet words. “And what will
you
do?”

He gave her a smile that didn’t wipe away the sadness in his
eyes. “Hope.”

Taking her hand in his, Eli led her out to the swing. This
time when she sat down on that new seat, Bellamy refused to let memories of the
past clutter the moment, a moment she might never have again. It was too
special and fragile. Too fleeting. Blink and it would be morning. She felt
nothing but the heaviness of her heart inside her chest and his hands grasping
her waist. He pushed her until the sun sank low behind the trees, scattering
shapes and shadows across the house, and her lips grew numb from the cold, then
he kissed them warm again.

Wordlessly, they went inside where he stripped her clothes
away, piece by piece, before removing his. He kissed her until her mouth felt
swollen and her jaw tingled from the rough brush of the stubble on his jaw.
Heated her skin with his hands. Together they melted down onto her bed, and
from that point on, their bodies didn’t separate.

Bellamy recalled how Eli had made love to her before Ruby’s
birthday party. The intense sex had been drenched in dark emotions spawned from
his fight with Sage. Tonight was no less emotional, no less melancholy, but it
came from a place deep inside them both that heightened every sensation and
weighted every kiss with hopefulness. It made each caress more precious than
the last. There was an aching perfection about it happening
there
, in a
house filled with so many powerful memories for her, a keepsake box he’d called
it, and it was true.

Seconds became minutes, minutes turned to hours, which
suited Bellamy just fine. She didn’t want the night to end.

But it did.

The next morning when she woke up, he was gone. This time
she understood.

The alarm on Bellamy’s phone woke her an hour before
daylight broke over Arrowhead Farm. She switched it off and rolled onto her
side to stare through the window of her second-floor apartment at acres and
acres of quiet, darkened fields. Once the sun started to rise, they would turn
golden before the dew dried and their shade shifted to a rich, dark green. This
late in the fall and the grass was still as thick and healthy as it would be in
the middle of the Georgia summertime. But then again, it rained in Central
Florida almost once a week. No chance the ponds on the property would need to
be artificially filled anytime soon.

Four days before Christmas and Bellamy still hadn’t bought a
tree. It felt unnecessary, wasting even ten bucks on one of those pathetic
pre-lit jobs you slid from a box, plugged in and fluffed to some semblance of a
triangle when she’d be the only one around to enjoy it.

She’d bought gifts though, whenever she’d managed a spare
moment to shop, mostly from a few antique stores in the area. Some pretty
vintage fabric for Grace, another piece of milk glass for Ruby, a beautiful
pair of pearl earrings for Kai. For her parents, she’d sent them gift cards
they could use on their travels. They were spending the holiday in Alabama with
one of Bellamy’s aunts. She hardly missed them anymore.

She’d searched and searched for just the right gift for Eli,
racking her brain to think of something appropriate, until she’d finally come
across a collection of vintage toy tractors in a local farm store that had been
around since the 1950s. Sitting high on a shelf collecting dust and little
interest, they were made of real metal, some of the paint rubbed off from tiny
hands plowing them through pretend fields of corn or hay, but she knew he’d
appreciate them for what they were, not what they were worth.

She’d also bought him a new pearl-snap western shirt because
despite his telling her he had a closet full, in her eyes, he could never have
enough. Even if she never saw him wear it, she could still imagine it on him
and know it was hers. A bolt of jealous pain shot through her heart at the
thought of another woman fingering those snaps.

All the gifts were wrapped and waiting for her to decide
whether she’d overnight them or try to make the trip up to Serenity and back on
Christmas day. As hectic as the farm was as they prepared for breeding season,
she’d be lucky if she was able to take that much time away.

Bellamy missed Eli so much she ached. She missed everyone
really, but him the deepest, his touch and smile and voice, all steady
drumbeats of memory inside her body. To combat the emptiness, she tried to stay
as busy as possible during the day so when nighttime fell, she was too
exhausted to think past nourishment and sleep.

Bright headlights swept through the darkness in an arcing
path before they disappeared behind one of the barns. Expensive cargo being
delivered. That was her cue to drag her ass out of bed and get moving. After
starting the kettle to boil, she generously filled a diffuser with loose
tealeaves and dropped it into a tall mug, then picked out clothing for the day
ahead. When the kettle whistled, she filled the mug with steaming water and
showered while her tea steeped.

Her breakfast was a piece of toast with the last spoonful of
honeycomb from the bottom of the jar. She dressed in layers to ward off the
damp chill, poured the rest of her tea into a travel mug and headed to the
stables to assess the overall health of the farm’s latest arrival, a prized
mare that would be bred on-site come February.

Once Bellamy checked her conditioning, ruled out infections
and any anatomic defects that could affect fertility, the stable manager would
take over the mare’s care unless a health issue arose. She’d be gradually
exposed to daylight in increasing amounts to ensure her cycles were regular and
she was ovulating when the time came to breed her.

Cool, humid air redolent with the scents of animal and grass
reminded her of the morning she spent on the tractor with Eli feeding his cows.
Like the memory, it clung to her skin as she made the short trek across the
yard to the impressive stables. You could feed a small third-world country with
the money spent on building the structure. The Warren family had spared no
expense on even the smallest details.

Distressed pine beams crisscrossed the ceiling and lined the
walls. Old-fashioned schoolhouse lights with golden globes dropped from the
center of the pitched roof. The flooring between the double rows of stalls was
brown brick laid in a pattern that mimicked the intricate ceiling work, and the
top half of the stalls were made of decorative black metal so you could see
inside to the horses. It was a stunning piece of architecture, and no matter
how many times Bellamy stepped inside the building, she remained awestruck by
the craftsmanship.

Horseracing wasn’t called the sport of kings for nothing.

The sudden smell of musty hay and fresh horse manure
assaulted her sinuses. Before too much longer, the stable hands would show up
to clean the stalls, scatter fresh bedding, and feed and groom the horses.
Bellamy scooped a handful of gingersnaps from an airtight container near the
door and shoved them in her front pocket. Giving the young visiting mare a
treat might help calm her anxieties about being in a strange new place with
unfamiliar people.

“Good morning, Doc,” said Elliott, Arrowhead’s stable
manager, when she drew nearer. His voice was calm and low so as not to spook
the nervous mare.

Bellamy set her mug of tea down on a tack trunk and shrugged
out of her jacket since the barn was heated, then took her first good look at
the beautiful bay horse, holding her hand out for a sniff. “Morning. How’s our
newest visitor doing so far?”

“Just fine.” In his early sixties, Elliott had been caring
for horses longer than Bellamy had been alive. He and his wife, Lila, lived on
the farm as well, except in an older brick home much larger than Bellamy’s tiny
apartment. In an attempt to make her feel welcome, she guessed, they’d had her
over for dinner a few times. Outside of the resident horses and a curious black
barn cat named Bat, Elliott and Lila were the only friends she’d made since
she’d moved here. Her relationship with the Warren’s was amiable, but they
could hardly be called friends, especially since they were rarely around.

While Elliott kept a steady hand on the lead strap, Bellamy
fed the mare a cookie and began her assessment with a gentle stroke to her
neck, talking in soothing tones and making notes as she went along. The animal
was fit, with a shiny coat, bright, alert eyes and near-perfect muscle
definition. There was more to be checked, but she’d leave the invasive parts of
the exam for later in the day, once the horse had time to fully relax and
adjust to her new surroundings.

When Bellamy was finished, Elliott led the mare to her stall
then disappeared to attend to his other responsibilities.

Having time to kill, she pulled her coat back on and
wandered out of the stables to sit on a bench and watch the sun slowly rise
over the rolling pasture. Seeing it turn the dew on the grass to diamonds made
her think of Eli again. But then, he was never far from her mind.

Sighing, she pulled her phone from her back pocket and typed
out a text.
You awake?

His reply came less than a minute later.
Always awake for
u. What r u doin up at this hour?

Early arrival. A bay mare to be bred in a few months.

Pricey I bet.

Yes. She’s beautiful.

Not as beautiful as u. I miss ur face. Send me a picture.

Just for fun, she made a quick trip back inside, snapped a
photo of the mare and sent it to him.

Worst selfie ever!! Try again.

She posed with the rising sun over her shoulder and a cheesy
but real smile on her face.

Much better, but I prefer u naked.

God, she craved him like junkies craved their next fix.
Flashbacks and her fingers just weren’t cutting it anymore. She was lonely for
no one but him.

Of course you do
, she replied.

What kind of socks are you wearing?

Seriously? You wanna know about my socks?

Yes! I know they have some animal on them.

Grinning like a fool, Bellamy checked, then texted,
Owls.

Figured. Miss seeing those silly socks & ur hot body.
Really miss being able to do dirty things to it.

I miss all parts of you.
Then after a moment, she
added,
please don’t send me a dick pic, tho!

Shame to waste such impressive mornin wood.

Bellamy’s outburst of laughter sent birds scattering from
nearby trees.

That is a shame
, she replied.

U should b here to see it. Bet we could put it to good
use. ;)

Despite the playful tone of the conversation, her fingers
curled tighter around her phone. The hollow ache in her chest sharpened to the
pain level she felt when she’d first put Serenity in her rearview mirror.
Another reminder that her feelings for Eli hadn’t dimmed even a smidge. In
fact, they’d grown stronger, deeper.

I wish I was there with you
, she thought, but typed,
how’s
Clover?

She misses u too. So does Vixen & Soldier & Ruby
& Fritz & Kai & Sage & Grace & Tucker. But most of all ME.

Your thumbs must be getting sore but point taken. :)

Still hoping, Bell. Get back to work. Call me later.

I will.

Long after she put her phone away and the sun topped the
trees, Bellamy sat on the bench, picturing Eli in his bed, rumpled from sleep,
that dark hair mussed and covering his eyes. Or sitting on the seat of the
tractor watching the cows eat their breakfast while he pondered his future.
Almost a month after she’d left him and he was still hoping she would someday
be a part of it.

She’d made a mistake.

Being an adult meant knowing when to admit you’d screwed up,
and boy, had she ever screwed up. All along, she’d thought taking the dream job
was the responsible thing to do for her career and her future, but she was so
wrong. Instead of following her heart, she’d followed her fear and some lofty
expectation she’d put on herself way back in college that simply didn’t apply
anymore. She’d worried too much about money and saving an empty house that
didn’t need saving.

There was a reason why her grandparents had stayed in
Serenity long after their children were gone and they’d grown too feeble and
tired to farm the land—contentment. Could be that’s the same reason why Nana
left her the place. Not because she expected Bellamy to live in that great big
empty house for the rest of her days, but because she knew Bellamy belonged in
Serenity. Perhaps Nana McCoy had always sensed that Bellamy felt a connection
with them she hadn’t found anywhere else, even with her parents. The house was
just a way to get her there and make her feel that sense of place again.

Eli tried to give her roots, yet her grandmother had planted
the seed a long time ago and fed its growth. The house was just a house, like
he’d told her, but Serenity had become home. It was where she belonged, with
Eli.

Kai’s store, Ruby’s kitchen, a backyard swing, the Millers’
goat pen, in a pig sty with Penelope or a paddock with Soldier and Huckleberry,
a field full of Hereford cattle, or a corner booth at the Cottonwood.

Wherever Eli was, Bellamy wanted to be.

Sometimes your eyes were trained so hard on something off in
the distance, you failed to see what was standing right in front of you.

She’d made a mistake, but she knew how to fix it.