Without You Here (17 page)

"Yeah. But I'll ride poor old Tilly, today. Nobody ever wants to and she gets neglected."

"Well now I feel bad about what I said," I turned to Tilly's stall. "I'm sorry, Tilly. I'll ride you on the way home."

Wyatt was standing behind me and I felt his breath on my ear as he gave a light laugh. "Here, take the reins and lead him out."

I did, walking to where Blake was standing outside the stables, waiting for us. He came and helped me onto Tornado's back. But then I felt very awkward. Very unbalanced. And Tornado wasn't wild, by any means, but he did step his feet up and down so that he wasn't very still. Wyatt rode up beside me and gave Tornado a stroke. The horse seemed to calm, some.

“This isn’t anything like riding a cowboy,” I muttered. It just came out. I wasn’t thinking.

Wyatt lowered his head and pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. Blake just gave me a weird look.

Blake showed me how to get Tornado going and he lurched into a walk. That small movement nearly unseated me. I was stiff as a board, clinging to the pommel on the saddle until Wyatt put his hand on my back. "You gotta relax. Go with the movement. Watch Blake."

I did. Watched as his body moved fluidly with the motions of the horse. Gradually I relaxed into it and began to get the feel. Then we kicked it up to a trot and I really started getting the hang of it. I was utterly delighted, in fact. I laughed as the rush kicked in. I loved trying anything new, but I had a feeling I could do this forever.

Wyatt took off on Tilly at a run. I started to go after him, but Blake held me back. "This is fast enough for now. We'll ride harder later. Just...take a moment to get used to it."

I didn't want to listen to him. He was always such a drag. But I figured he was talking sense at this point. I definitely didn't want to get thrown and trampled. So I trotted alongside him and we arrived at Liza's probably five minutes behind Wyatt. Tilly was grazing in a field. We turned Tornado and Nelson loose with her and went in to lunch. Stan and Diane were there, and Jessie and his girlfriend, Stacy. I plopped down at the table next to Blake and across from Wyatt, determined to enjoy the moment, though I knew I couldn't stay here forever like I wanted.

But I was distracted, with my arms folded over my chest. Wyatt must have seen my expression. "Something wrong, Ettie?" he asked softly.

I winced. "I had fun riding, but my breasts are going to be really sore."

Blake dropped his head back, giving one of those sighs towards heaven, quietly beseeching God to zap me into something he considered normal. "Christ, Ettie, edit yourself."

Everyone else was snickering or outright laughing. Charles and Liza had just seated themselves at the ends of the table after setting the sandwiches on the table. Wyatt wasn't laughing. He had a wicked sort of mischief in his eyes, which bored into me and forced me to look away, or else be incinerated in his heat.

"Oh, leave her alone, Blake," Liza said. "You need a good, solid sports bra if you're going riding, Ettie. Blake and Wyatt should have explained that to you."

"I figured she'd figure that out," Blake said defensively.

Wyatt, who seriously needed to turn down the heat in front of his family, said, "I didn't think Blake would appreciate me discussing his girlfriend's breasts."

Stan reached over and attempted to slap Wyatt upside the head, but Wyatt ducked and must have kicked Stan under the table. Like little boys.

"Well I'm changing before I go back out," I said, grabbing a sandwich.

"I wish I had your problem," Diane said, looking regretfully down at her chest.

"You've got beautiful breasts," I said, "What are you complaining about?"

"She's right, honey," Stan said. "Very lovely breasts."

Jessie's head hit the table in humiliation.

"Could we change the subject, please," Blake whined.

Jessie nodded and groaned. His girlfriend was giggling.

"Okay," I said. "I've always been curious...do you men have some sort of support for your...parts...whenever you're riding? Because it looks like it could be painful."

Liza, Diane, and Stacy all laughed. Wyatt and Stan were grinning, but Blake was giving me his "shut the hell up" look. "I'm sorry," Blake said to the table. "Bad parenting. And nothing I can do about it, looks like."

"Quit apologizing for her," Wyatt snarled. His humor switching from fun to fury in a snap.

Blake looked up sharply. "What?"

Wyatt shook his head and looked away.

"He's right," Liza said. "We're all enjoying Ettie's company. No worries, Blake."

He looked confused for a moment. Then shrugged and went back to eating. No more talks of body parts at the lunch table. But the conversation was plenty lively, except for my two boyfriends, who both seemed sullen. Of course, Blake was just quiet. Not one of those who talks just to hear himself talk. He was happy listening. Wyatt, though, was brooding. I determined to catch a moment alone with him.

Which I did when I volunteered to help him with the dishes. He didn't seem to notice when I went up next to him and started drying. "Why'd you come, today? To the stables?" I asked quietly.

He didn't look at me. "I needed to see you ride. It was your first time, right? I needed to be there for that."

"You did?"

He nodded.

"Why?"

"I don't know," he said, his frown deepening. "It's some kind of addiction." He glanced beyond me to make sure we were alone. "I'd like to follow you around for the rest of my life and watch you discover new things. It's its own kind of joy."

I warmed at the thought. It would have been nice, being his girl. I didn't have huge ambitions. I could live on a farm. Maybe go on a vacation to some exotic destination once in a while. I just loved life, whatever form it took. It was too bad we couldn't be together. More than too bad. Heartbreaking.

"Ettie?" he asked.

I looked up at him.

"Why'd you talk to me last weekend?"

My eyes searched him, looking for the answer to that question somewhere on that big, strong body of his. It seemed quiet. When I glanced out the window over the sink I saw Blake and Jessie out back on the concrete patio playing basketball. "I just thought you were hot," I said.

He grinned, and for a moment, there was no sadness in it. "You've got good taste, sweetheart."

I giggled and before I could think to stop him, he wrapped me into his arms and pressed his lips to mine. I was lost, then. My arms drifted up over his shoulders. He tasted so good. So right for me. But it was like scratching an itch. It was easier not to do it at all than to start and have to stop. His hands got rougher. He hefted me onto the edge of the counter and leaned against me, between my legs.

He kissed and touched my face and neck. Once in a while I opened my eyes and caught a glimpse of him, his eyes closed, his brow furrowed in concentration. His hands moved down my neck and settled onto my breasts. I dropped my head back and bared my throat to him.

That's when Liza cleared her throat and sent Wyatt stumbling back. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. Wyatt had his hand over his and his head lowered, so I know he'd experienced a similar jolt of fear. Liza did not look happy. She gave her youngest child a little shove. "You need to work this out with Blake, young man."

"There's nothing to work out," he said, his voice gravelly. He walked past her and out the back door without sparing me another look.

I let myself have a moment to slump in relief. What if someone else had walked in? Anyone else? What was Wyatt thinking?

"What were you thinking?" Liza asked.

I slid off the counter and felt strands of hair against my cheek. I'd braided my hair, so Wyatt must have gotten rather rough to pull so much of it loose. My hands went to the french braid which was going to be a pain to fix.

"Turn around," Liza said. "I'll fix it up for you right quick."

I obeyed, grateful to her, though I'm pretty sure she jerked those strands tighter than she necessarily needed to. When she was finished, I turned back to her. "I love him so much," I said, lamely.

She gave me a sympathetic, but frustrated look. "Then go about this right. Tell Blake everything. Give him time to get past it. And then you can be with Wyatt."

I shook my head. "I want to, but I can't do that. It's Wyatt's call. I can't come between a father and son like that. Is there any worse kind of person to be?"

"What would you have done if Blake had walked in here just now? That was very foolish, Ettie."

I nodded, gulping down the sadness and humiliation. "I know, but he just grabbed me and kissed me...I just forgot about everything else for a second."

"Listen, Wyatt doesn't know up from down right now. You have to be the strong one and do what's right."

"If I knew what was right, I would. I just feel like to tell Blake would be to betray Wyatt."

"Then you need to keep your hands off my son."

This stung. But she was right. I had no business seeking Wyatt out, just now. Or ever, really. She nudged me back to the sink and I took over Wyatt's job. She dried and though I knew she was upset with me, it was still nice being near her.

"How do you think you'd like living on a farm, Ettie?" she asked.

"I think I'd love it. I share an apartment with my best friend right now and it's so cramped. Even when I go out in town, it's just so crowded. But there's space out here to breathe."

"It is beautiful. I never thought of myself as a country girl. Charles and I lived in town for a long time. After we had Wyatt we decided to do some hobby farming and bought this patch of land that our house and Stan's is on."

"Did it just gradually expand into a dairy farm?"

"Sort of. We had some cows, but Amberlee was the real reason. Wyatt joined the Army right out of high school and she hated it. So she told him she wouldn't stay with him, baby or not, if he didn't find another means of living after his tour of duty was over. So he bought the farm next to us. The business was his and then Stan and Charles wanted in. So they're all partners now."

"Is it a lot of work? Being farmers?"

She paused drying a plate. "It is. But it doesn't feel like work. It's just...life, you know. And we all work together so we can put food on the table. I don't do so much nowadays, but Diane comes over every day and we fix lunch for the boys. I usually do a big breakfast on Saturdays. And I've got my chickens and pigs to take care of. Diane is a nurse, but she only keeps part time hours."

"Do you think Blake will take over the family farm some day?"

"You tell me."

I shrugged. "I don't see it happening. He loves the newspaper business. I think he talks to Lauren about his plans, but it's never come up with me. He doesn't seem like a manual labor kind of guy, though."

Liza chuckled. "He's done his share of work around here and never complained about it. But I never got the feeling he was too interested in it."

I finished the last dish, turned off the water, and stared out the window. Now Wyatt and Stan were playing basketball with their sons. "I think I'd rather be outside working than inside cooking. Maybe I could learn how to take care of the horses. Do you think that would make me useful enough?"

Liza put her arm around my shoulders.

"Your menfolk are beautiful, Liza," I said.

She chuckled. "They're fine looking boys."

I gave her a hug and she kindly hugged me back.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Cal stared at Wyatt, confusion evident on his face. "The girl you brought here? That girl?"

"That's what I said," Wyatt said, after choking on a drink of Cal's moonshine. When he’d heard about this party, he’d hurried over to give Cal a head’s up. He wanted to make sure Cal was past his shock by the time everyone started arriving.

"Are you going to tell Blake?"

Wyatt took another drink and answered him with silence.

"Yeah," Cal murmured, leaning back in his rocking chair. They were on the front porch. The afternoon was mocking with its beauty. Wyatt was black inside, but this gorgeous world just kept on turning. "I guess there's no point him knowing. Except if you want to keep seeing her."

"No. It's over. It was just a fling."

Cal shook his head. "It's a shame. She was cute as a button. What's she still doing here?"

"I don't know. She can't get a ride until tomorrow. She promised Blake she'd hang around or something. I don't know why she's still here."

"Is she going to keep seeing him?"

"Probably not. They weren't right together anyway." Wyatt drank some more. The afternoon was quiet and he wound up dozing off from the effects of the alcohol.

He woke up when the first cars pulled in. Over the course of an hour, Cal's front yard turned into a parking lot and people gathered in back. Some young guys brought their guitar and banjo and mandolin and struck up some bluegrass. Several families brought food and set out on a picnic blanket. Cal had a table full of small Mason jars which people grabbed. He sat in his rocking chair on the back porch like a king, pouring moonshine.

Wyatt was seated on the steps, looking out for Lyle Allen. If he came, Wyatt was going to have to head him off and stop him from saying anything to Blake. Blake who was standing by the bonfire in the middle of the yard with his hand on Ettie's back. She was in those tight jeans and a tank top, her blond hair loose around her shoulders. Wyatt took another drink, emptying his jar. He stood and went for a refill.

"Alright, Cal," Blake said from behind him. "This is my friend Ettie. And this is her first moonshine."

Cal smiled and stood. He did a good job looking like he didn't know her. She wasn't doing such a good job. Her face was pale, her eyes wide, and she stood frozen. Wyatt reached out and grabbed her jar, holding it up for Cal to fill. "Drink up, girl," he said. "Good for what ails ya." Then he took another drink and his world became a little more numb.

Ettie stared down into her jar. "You made this yourself?"

"Yep," Cal said proudly. "In my still out in the shed over there."