She rubbed her hands up her bare arms, and he wished he had a jacket to give her. “It’s personal.”
“I’m a person.” He nudged her booted foot with his, and a smile crept up the corners of her mouth.
“I was actually thinking of you more like a grizzly bear a little while ago.”
“Touché.” He’d been closer to growling than he’d liked, especially at Caley. He sobered. “I’m sorry for how I acted at dinner.” He averted his gaze to the moon, but it had yet to reappear behind the cloud cover. “I tend to overreact.”
“Never would have guessed.” The teasing light in her eyes flickered, then slowly faded as she stared across the dark porch. “It’s important to me because in a lot of ways, I’m Ava.”
He didn’t get it, but he let her take her time explaining, giving her his full attention. He had a feeling he didn’t need to miss this.
“I grew up here in Broken Bend.” Her words, so soft they were almost carried away by the breeze, floated between them.
“Broken Bend doesn’t have the best memories for me. My mom left us for another man when I was little.” She tilted her chin toward him. “And like a certain fifth grader you know, I had an overprotective dad myself.”
Brady started to argue, then clamped his jaw shut. He
was
overprotective. But no one else had a story like his. This, however, was Caley’s turn to share.
He still didn’t know if he’d take a turn or not.
He cleared his throat. “Go on.”
She wrapped her arms around her drawn knees. “Growing up, Dad and I fought all the time. I was the square peg, and he was the round hole. We just didn’t fit. Everything I wanted to do he thought was dangerous, and everything he wanted just felt like a trap. I wanted to get out of Broken Bend since I was in junior high.”
“Why was that?” Brady loved everything about Broken Bend, from the land his family had sweated and bled over for generations, to the small-time feel of the town, where everyone knew everyone. Sure, the gossip had its disadvantages, as did the unsolicited advice that came from everyone acting like everyone else’s mama. But Broken Bend was home. Always would be.
“Nonie said I was born a gypsy.” She shook her head, a wry grin briefly lifting her cheeks. “I just wanted more. Wanted to travel, see the rest of the country. Do something that mattered. So I joined the Peace Corps and immediately got a taste of World War Three, but not overseas. Here on the home front.”
“Because your dad wanted to keep you nearby.” He nodded in understanding. Who could blame Mr. Foster? Brady was starting to want Caley nearby all the time, too, but look where that notion had gotten him. Completely lost, arguing over fancy dishes and having heart-to-heart talks on the porch swing.
As though they were already married.
He shook off the idea. “There are worse things than a caring father, you know.” He drew in a tight breath, wishing Caley could see his point of view. He didn’t know why Mr. Foster had been the way he was, but Brady knew from experience that being overprotective usually came with a reason. A good one.
Caley’s voice turned hard. “Oh, I know. He went from controlling every move I made to disowning me.” Her voice caught. “And then he was gone.”
Brady’s heart wrenched, just like it had when watching her in the cemetery. He didn’t know what to say, so he dropped his leg off the swing and scooted over until he could wrap his arm around her. She stiffened, then relaxed against his embrace.
He tilted his head down, wishing he had the right to brush a kiss against her forehead, and instead inhaled the fresh scent of her hair. “I’m sorry.” He whispered against her head, not even sure if she’d heard him.
She just snuggled closer, and he held her silently. Times like these he wished he and God were still on speaking terms so he could pray. Back in the days when he believed God actually cared for him and his family, actually had a plan for their lives. But the God he knew in childhood hadn’t shown up after Jessica’s accident. Either He wasn’t in control after all, or He didn’t care enough to intervene in tragedy.
It was better to just handle things himself. At least then if he messed up, it was his own fault. Just like the accident. No more disappointment or shot-down hopes. He was on his own. That’s why he couldn’t risk anything happening to Ava. He had to take every precaution possible—even if it put them at odds.
Caley finally lifted her head, but didn’t pull completely away. “I never got over it, how estranged we were for so long. And me and Nonie, too, by default. She helped raise me, but she was loyal to her son.” She took a shuddering breath before wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I just wanted one more chance with him, to see if as adults we could agree to disagree. But he didn’t even come to my college graduation. After that, I knew it was over. I made my own path in life, finally got to live the way I wanted to, accomplishing things most parents would be impressed over. Becoming a firefighter, getting my EMT. Skydiving. Mountain climbing. Steer roping. I just wanted to live out loud, you know?” She lifted one shoulder in a weary shrug. “But he never understood. He just wanted me to stay right here in Broken Bend, go to college, get a local job.” She sighed. “Basically, waste my gifts.”
Brady winced. He and Mr. Foster would have unfortunately hit it off well. He wanted the same for Caley—wanted her to give up her thrill-seeking life and stay in Broken Bend permanently. Be there for him and for Ava.
But that wasn’t who she was.
The realization made him hurt to his core. Not that it was a surprise, but to hear firsthand how deep-rooted that roaming lifestyle was in her heart...it erased any remnant of hope he’d clung to about things changing in the future.
“I just don’t want to see you and Ava make the same mistakes.” A stray tear slipped down Caley’s cheek, and he gently brushed his finger across her face to catch it. She closed her eyes, leaning slightly into his touch. “Trust me. Some mistakes can be permanent.”
No kidding. He’d learned that the hard way with Jessica. For the first time since Caley’s arrival next door, he finally understood why she cared so much about his relationship with Ava. She’d been there.
The question was, what was he doing to do about it?
A tree frog croaked nearby, and Brady remembered all those nights camping out as a kid that nature’s lullaby would sing him to sleep. For a wild moment, he wondered what would happen if he shared that with Ava. What would it be like to have that connection with her that he’d had with his dad? Despite his older age, Brady’s father would sleep in a tent with him in the back pasture in the heat of summer, while his mom sneaked them s’mores and Dr. Pepper. They’d make different animal calls and shadow puppets with their hands, and tell scary stories until Brady insisted on going back to the safety of a night-light and four walls.
Caley’s story was testament enough to how holding on too tightly could push a loved one away. If Mr. Foster had given Caley a little bit of lead rope, would she have stuck around? There was no way to know.
But there
was
time to test the theory with Ava.
He stood abruptly as an idea flashed through his mind, reaching down to tug on Caley’s hand. “Come on. I want to show you something.”
She willingly followed him, which just made him ache all the more.
Chapter Seventeen
C
aley followed Brady down the porch steps and across the backyard to the barn, where the moon reflected off the roof’s white trim and sparkled like snow. He still had a hold on her hand, and her feet struggled to keep up with his longer strides. What was he doing? How did they go from tear wiping and heart pouring to almost jogging toward the barn? She’d worked with men her entire adult life, but still couldn’t figure out their mental connections.
She quickened her pace, then nearly ran into the back of him as he stopped short in front of the barn.
“I have a surprise.” He grinned down at her, the mischievous spark in his eyes more reminiscent of a teenage boy on the loose than a stoic grown man with scars. She looked away before that spark could ignite in her stomach, startling when he suddenly cranked open the door with a loud squeak. Low-bulb security lights flashed on in the corners, just dim enough to see by. He grabbed a flashlight that sat on a feed barrel by the door, then motioned for her to follow.
Hard to say no, since he still held her hand. Not that she would have, anyway. After their talk on the porch, an uncharacteristic vulnerability swelled in her heart. She loved the comfort the rough texture of his palm against hers brought, especially after dredging up all her own wounds. Innocent as the physical contact was—and temporary as it was—it was a nice punctuation to their evening.
Tomorrow would bring reality back quickly enough.
The pungent scent of hay assaulted her nose as they strolled by sleepy horses, some wheezing in their sleep, others waking to pop curious heads over stall doors. Brady led her to the back corner stall, double in size compared to the rest, and glanced over the tall rail before handing her the flashlight. “What do you think?”
She warily took the light and let go of his hand, tiptoeing to the stall door and stretching to see over the top. Then she gasped, quickly moving the light to shine it away from the animals’ eyes. “The mare had her foal.”
“Yesterday. It’s a filly.” Brady’s voice held as much pride as if he’d orchestrated the entire event himself. “The newest member of the Double C ranch.”
“She’s so cute.” Caley shone the light where she could see into the shadows but not alarm the foal. The baby’s matted hair puffed in little waves against her slender frame, but despite her small stature, she braced on all four legs and nuzzled for milk. “What will you name her?”
Brady hesitated, hooking his thumb in his front pocket. “I was thinking about letting Ava decide.”
Caley’s gaze shot to his and held, her breath catching with hope. If he was going to let Ava name the foal, then did that mean...
“I think maybe you’re right. About Ava needing more responsibility.” He released a sigh that sounded as if it resonated from the deepest part of his soul. “What you said made a lot of sense. I still want her to be safe, but maybe if she learns how to handle a horse at this size, she could work her way up as she grows up, too.”
The hesitancy in his voice cried out for confirmation of his decision, though she knew he’d never ask outright. She set the flashlight on the ground and reached for his hand again, throat thick with emotion. This was a milestone, however small. He’d come a long way. “I think she’s going to do great.” She swallowed as he moved closer. “And so will you.”
“I don’t know why it’s so important to have your faith in me, Caley, but it is.” He stood directly in front of her, reaching up with his free hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I downright need it.”
She closed her eyes as his thumb grazed her cheek, and his forefinger brushed across her lips, the touch callused but gentle. “You’re a good father, Brady. You need more faith in yourself.”
“I lost it.” His hand cupped the back of her neck, urging her forward. “But you give me hope.”
This time, she didn’t resist, but willingly stepped into his embrace. Their lips met, hesitantly, then with more confidence as the kiss built, a growing tidal wave of attraction, vulnerability and need. Caley stretched onto her toes, sliding her arms around his neck and clutching the collar of his shirt as his hands buried in her hair, briefly acknowledging that in all her years of wandering, she’d never felt more at home than in Brady’s arms.
Behind them, the mare nickered, and they quickly broke apart. Caley reached up to touch her lips, sure they were as red as Brady’s, as he awkwardly stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. He gave her a sheepish grin. “I guess maybe we should start sitting on opposite ends of that swing.”
She laughed, startling the mare and foal, and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. Shoving aside all her inner reservations, she let her feelings shine in her eyes as she met his gaze. “I sort of liked sharing the middle.”
He reached out and looped one arm around her waist, bringing her back close. This time a tender connection still held them both in place. He locked her in his grip, bending down to rest his forehead against hers. “I’m not used to sharing, Caley. I might not be good at it anymore.”
“Do you miss her?” She had to know, despite the terrible timing of the question.
His arm stiffened around her waist, and he shook his head. “I regret what happened. I hate that Ava doesn’t have a mom anymore. But no,
I
don’t miss her. Not the way you’re meaning.” He hesitated, eyes darkening with emotion she couldn’t determine. “Saying that out loud sounds so terrible. But we were so different. Everyone was shocked when we got married.”
“What happened, Brady?” She reached around her back to find his hand, clinging to his fingers. “It seems the whole town knows but me, yet no one will say.” Would he finally confide in her? Trust her with the broken pieces of his heart? She’d shown him the cracked edges of her own. Would he meet her halfway?
Would it even matter if he did?
She started to ease away as his hesitancy expounded, the words
never mind
ripe on her tongue. If he didn’t want to share, she shouldn’t push him—even if that truth did rip her apart.
“I killed her.”
All her doubts fell away at his painful admission. “Brady.” She pressed her hand against his chest, his heartbeat erratic under her palm. “No.” She didn’t believe him, not even a little.
“Not directly.” He stepped away from her touch, turning sideways and bracing his arms against the stall wall. “But I’m still responsible.”
She felt his absence like the prick of a knife but fought the urge to chase him. “How?”
He let out a sharp huff of air. “We were fighting all the time. Just too different. She was happiest in a department store, trying on some fancy shoe, while I, well...” He looked up briefly at the ceiling. “You know me.”
She did. And unfortunately kept growing to like what she saw more and more. “What happened?”
“We’d seen a counselor a few times, who kept telling us we had to get interested in the same things. Meet in the middle, if we wanted our marriage to have a chance—and we both did, for Ava’s sake.” Brady shook his head. “So one day Jessica came out of the house while I was working and saddled up this stallion I’d just bought. He was about as green broke as a garden gnome. But she wanted to impress me. She’d never ridden a day in her life. But I thought she knew how dangerous it was.”
His voice caught and Caley couldn’t help herself. She touched his shoulder, grateful he didn’t shrug away. “And?”
“He threw her. I saw her up there and was so surprised, I didn’t say anything at first. I should have demanded she get down. But truth to be told, I was impressed. That she’d make such an effort...” His voice trailed off. “I should have ordered her off immediately. Should have been there sooner. Been closer. When he reared up, she fell.”
She could picture it, and the visual made her stomach hurt. “That’s not your fault, Brady.”
He beat the wooden stall with his fist, and Caley flinched, jerking away. “I should have been there, Caley. I should have caught her.” He clutched the top of the stall door so hard his knuckles turned white. “I should have made the first gesture, not her.”
“How could you have known?”
“I put work first, even back then. I know it’s my fault.” He shrugged, the gesture so helpless it tore at Caley’s heart. “I wasn’t there.”
“So that’s why you’re afraid to let Ava near the animals.” The truth dawned, opening her eyes with painful revelation. Why hadn’t he said so sooner? It all made sense now. Did Ava even know what happened?
As if reading her mind, Brady glanced at the foal, his expression softening. “Ava doesn’t know the gory details. At the time, I didn’t want her afraid of everything.” He snorted. “Ironic, isn’t it?”
“You did what you thought best. But, Brady, none of this is your fault.” She could tell he didn’t believe her, and she figured she wasn’t the first one to try to convince him of the truth.
“I’ve been there, Caley. I’ve seen what a little bit of carelessness can do, and I can’t risk letting my daughter be in harm’s way. What if I can’t catch her, either?” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Maybe I come down too hard on her, but she’s alive. She’s safe. I’ve seen what making the wrong choices can do, how choosing the wrong friends can lead you down a path you never intended....”
“Ava is a good kid, Brady,” she broke in. “If you’re determined to blame yourself for all the bad stuff these past few years, you have to claim the good things, too. She has good friends because you taught her to choose wisely.”
He shot her a sideways look. “Good friends who help her trick me into sleepovers.”
“You don’t know if Mandy knew all the details or not.”
“I thought I had good friends when I was Ava’s age.” Brady picked up the flashlight Caley had set on the barn floor and tapped it absently against his palm. “Turns out they were experimenting with drugs and smoking. One stupid prank and a careless cigarette later, I was trapped in a burning basement.”
Surprise held her tongue hostage, as more visuals she couldn’t stand to imagine pummeled her brain. He must have been so terrified. No wonder he was so careful with Ava. He had myriad reasons to be paranoid. She finally found her voice. “I’m so sorry.”
“Even now, there’s pieces of that nightmare I can’t remember. Can’t place it. It consumes me more than it should. Caley...” His voice trailed as his tone shifted. “I don’t like fire.”
The subtle warning note in his voice said more than he’d revealed in the past fifteen minutes. The rock of reality that she’d temporarily shifted during their kiss settled back into her stomach with a thump. He hated fire, and she was a firefighter. He was overprotective and cautious in all things, and she wasn’t afraid of taking risks for the greater good.
He was the very roots of Broken Bend—and she was a gypsy.
* * *
Saturday morning, Brady’s joy in presenting Ava with the foal was tempered only by the memories of what had transpired between him and Caley. Standing in the barn, in that same spot, made him wish he could change. Wish he could erase the bad memories that too often held him hostage. Wish he could be the man he wanted to be, a man unscarred by life.
Ava’s beaming smile, however, mended the surface level of the wounds.
“Are you serious, Dad?” She stared at the foal in the stall, then looked back at him, eyes half wary, half delighted. As if she couldn’t believe it, which made sense, since he still couldn’t believe his decision, either.
Brady nodded, despite his inner reservations. “She’s yours. But that means you’re responsible for her now. Cleaning her stall and brushing her down.” His voice warbled and he coughed to hide it. “I expect to see you out here in the barn with me often.”
Scrawny arms gripped him in a hug so tight, it cut off his breath. “Thank you, Daddy.”
Daddy.
The emotion building behind his eyes didn’t stand a chance, and he swiped his lids with his shirt cuff before easing back to speak. “Remember our talk we had earlier, okay?” He tilted her chin up with his finger, still amazed at how grown she looked. “No more secrets or matchmaking or deceit. You leave adult things to the adults. And you never trick me into changing plans with your friends again.”
“Yes, sir.” Ava grinned at her new pet, who eyed her as curiously as Ava eyed it.
He smiled, wishing Caley could have been here to see this, but she’d insisted last night that it be a private moment between the two of them. As usual, she’d been right. It’d been for the best.
But he still missed her, especially after the way their conversation had ended last night in the barn. After his admission about his past, they’d just stared at each other, each seeing the impasse between them but unwilling to name it further. Then she’d held her breath, rolling in that irresistible bottom lip of hers in concern. “Are you going to change your mind about the foal?”
He’d assured Caley he wouldn’t, though his instincts screamed at him to lock Ava in a stone tower. Only he’d remember to cut her hair every so often so a rogue prince wouldn’t get any smart ideas.
He’d walked Caley home after that, their hands occasionally brushing in the darkness, but he’d made no move to hold it like he had before. Why complicate things further? He’d screwed up enough, kissing her like that and leading them both to think a relationship between them had a fighting chance.
Yet at the same time, he didn’t regret it. Having just that brief taste of Caley’s charm and fire and goodness had been worth the heartache that came after, when reality sank its unforgiving claws right back in.
“Can I brush her now?” Ava hopped on the balls of her feet, and he quickly rested his hand on her shoulder to settle her down.
“Yes. But remember, no sudden movements by the horses. You have to be calm so they stay calm.” He wasn’t sure who would be keeping him calm during this transition, however. He took a long breath. It was taking care of a foal. Not bull riding or barrel racing or anything high-speed or adrenaline-laced. He could do this, one step at a time.
For Ava.
Max suddenly rounded the corner of the barn, and before he could even say
good morning,
Ava tackled him with her good news and a hug. “Uncle Max! I got a horse! A baby.” She cleared her throat, lifting her chin. “I mean, a
filly.
”