Brazing (Forged in Fire #2) (17 page)

We gave each other sidelong glances and then burst into a fit of giggles. We were adults now, well on our way to being grownups. But there was something comforting in the fact that both of us were still deathly afraid of my Granddaddy’s wrath!

“If I walk you to the door, is Preacher going to shoot me?” Bridger asked out of the side of his mouth.

“Maybe,” I giggled.

He let out a long sigh and opened his door, saying, “He’ll shoot me if I don’t walk you to the door, too.”

I was still laughing by the time he’d rushed around to my door and opened it for me. “Like I’d make you walk up there alone.” He grinned at me and then held his arms out so he could pick me up again.

“I can walk now.”

“I’m not taking chances,” he murmured in my hair.

“You just want to grab my ass again.”

I thought he would drop me for saying that so close to my granddaddy, but instead, he leaned closer and whispered, “Damn straight.”

I felt the blush heat my entire face and spread over every inch of me. Oh, my goodness.

“What’s wrong?” Grams asked as soon as she saw Bridger carrying me. “Tatum, what happened?”

Crap. How was I going to get out of this one? “Nothing, Grams. I’m fine. I just need to eat something. I’m tired and I’ve barely eaten anything today.”

She frowned at me and looked like she wanted to say more but Granddaddy interrupted her. “Son, I’d like to have a word with you. Do you think you could set my granddaughter down long enough to do that?”

I watched Bridger’s face go completely white and I tried not to laugh again. Tried being the operative word.

“Yes, sir,” he said politely. He set me down on the living room sofa and walked outside with Preacher.

I raised my eyebrows at Grams, but she just waved me off. “Now, don’t start. If he’s going to chase after Preacher’s most beloved granddaughter, he better be able to stand up for himself and his intentions. He ought to have known that from the first moment he decided to pursue you.”

I beamed at Grams. How did she always know the right thing to say? “Most beloved?”

“Shush, child. Vanity does not become you.”

I settled down. She was right, and she’d also been exaggerating the truth. My granddaddy loved all of us equally. And he spoiled us all rotten. He might be giving Bridger a harsh speech right now, but it was one I would never receive. Not as long as I minded my manners and stayed in line.

He might not have always been this happy with me.

In fact, there were plenty of years where I was his biggest disappointment.

I might still be if it weren’t for the cancer. Kudos to the sympathy card.

“You can’t hide this from him forever, Tatum.” Grams interrupted my thoughts and leveled me with one of her stern glares.

“I don’t plan to,” I promised.

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Of course you don’t plan to. These things just happen because we never plan them. Find a way to tell him. It’s not fair to him. He deserves to know. What are you afraid of? Do you think he’d leave you?”

“No,” I told her through a voice thick with unwanted emotion. “I’m afraid he’ll do the opposite. I’m afraid he’ll stay with me even when he doesn’t want to be.”

She clucked a sound of disapproval. “Do you honestly believe you can get Bridger Wright to do anything he doesn’t want to do? He is not a pushover, Sugar. You should at least know that by now.”

I did. Oh, boy did I know that.

“You need to tell him, Tatum. Sooner rather than later. Give him the opportunity to show you what kind of a man he is. I have a feeling you won’t be disappointed.”

“I will,” I mumbled half-heartedly. I wanted to mean it. I really did.

I just didn’t want to do it today. Or lose this beautiful thing we were creating or poison it by infusing our relationship with cancer.

I just wanted today. And tomorrow.

I just wanted Bridger for as long and often as I could have him.

It did not pass my notice that I had stopped looking at the big picture again and resigned myself to the here and now.

I knew I should do something about it. I should look ahead and consider the future.

But I couldn’t. At least not right this second.

I waved goodbye to Bridger after my Granddaddy came in and watched him leave. Things were perfect right now. I wanted to keep my sickness out of it.

I just hoped eventually he would understand.

Chapter Seventeen

Bridger

I didn’t see much of Tate the weekend after Thanksgiving. Every time I called, she was resting and then she went back to school one day earlier than me. She didn’t explain why, just called one morning and said she’d decided to leave. I stayed in the workshop, determined to get finished with another design before I left. My decision to leave school after the semester was over was on shaky ground. Just like Tate had made her decision to go to the doctor, based in part on my encouragement, my decision to stay in school was now tethered to Tate.

My latest design was a charm bracelet for Tate for Christmas. It would be a surprise. I’d made it out of silver, but the charms themselves would be made out of a different metal each. Christmas was special at our house. Our Mama had made it special.

Like Thanksgiving, Tate’s Christmases had been more about being grateful for a roof over her head and food in her mouth. All that would change if I had any say so.

I loved the heat of the workshop. Stockton had kept it just like our dad did and it reminded me of him every minute. When I heard the stroke of Stockton’s hammer on metal, it was like he was with us.

“What did Preacher have to say to you the other night when you took Tate home?” Stockton stopped his hammering and pointed the question at me. It was weird for Stockton to ask me such a thing, usually he minded his own business. He was a hands-off kind of parental figure, at least for me. He had to watch West like a clock.

“Why?”

“Because I need to know what a good talkin’ to sounds like to get prepped for Willa dating.”

I threw down my own tool and whipped my head around. “Well, shit fire and save the matches, Stock. You’re not gonna let her date, are you? Not until she’s at least thirty.”

Apparently, all it took was one week back home and my words went from semi-country to full on hillbilly.

He shrugged. “I guess I have to. The shotgun hasn’t had much use lately. It needs something to do. She and Cami are always fixin’ their damned hair and putting shit on their eyes. It was better when Willa was just climbing trees and beating up boys. Now she’s talking on the phone and asking me for a cell phone. I just want to beat down any boy who calls the house. Make a list for a week or so, and then just make a day of it.”

We both laughed, mostly. The truth was that if anyone hurt Willa, there were plenty of mountains and caves where bodies were never found.

I thought back to that night, when Preacher took me outside. I was scared to death. It was bad enough he was her grandfather, but he was the preacher. He baptized me and her. By the time he was finished though, I was just happy to walk away with his blessing.

“He asked me if I was just playing around or if I really cared about her. Then he told me how him and Preacher wife courted and didn’t even kiss until their wedding day. He reminded me that some things are best left until marriage. And then he threatened parts of me that I never thought I’d hear Preacher mention.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I didn’t say anything, just stood there, nodding like a damned fool. What did you think I was gonna do, admit that I’d kissed her in the baptismal?”

He chucked his hammer on the floor.

“Bridger! You didn’t! Please tell me you didn’t. That sounds like some West trouble.”

Silence was the only answer my brother got.

Admit nothing—that was the best policy.

Stockton started hammering again before long and then I heard the fizzle of the hot metal as it was plunged into the barrel of water. He got a smaller hammer from the wall, one used for more specialized shaping. “When Willa starts dating, I’m just gonna make you and West come home for the weekend. West should be able to scare them off with his weirdness and you and I can be the brutes who make sure they stay away.”

“Deal. Anyway, I might be home by then.”

“I’d rather you stayed in school.”

“We’ll see.”

~~

Since we’d gotten back to school, I hadn’t seen her once. I’d talked to her on the phone and texted, but she was always busy, busier than before the holidays.

By Thursday of the next week, I was fed up of her avoiding me, and I wanted to know why. I knew I’d told her too much. That’s the way I was—slow to warm up to someone and then just juggernauted my way through the rest. I’d exposed myself and now she was scared.

“Should I go over there? Just surprise her?”

“You gotta bring shit,” West answered, waving me off. His nose was buried in a book. Since we’d gotten back home, the boy was all about studying. I thought maybe all of Stockton’s hosing him down had straightened him out, like a dog getting his balls clipped.  But with that latest statement, he’d apparently grown them back.

“I have to bring shit?” West needed his own translator. I’d spent half of my life asking him what he meant.

“Ugh,” he twirled around in his desk chair. “I didn’t mean like an actual pile. I meant bring her something if you’re going to stop by. Not flowers or candy. Gag. Bring her a cake. Hell, bring her a roasted chicken. God knows you owe her something decent to eat after exposing her to Cami’s cooking. I’ve still got the runs from that spaghetti.”

Ignoring his antics, I focused on what made sense. Cake. “She’s like gluten intolerant or something. I can’t bring cake.”

That really fouled West up. He scrunched his face all up like he was really perplexed about it. He growled like my presence just aggravated him.

“Hold on.”

West popped his laptop open and began typing. I swore to myself if he came up with something disgusting I would drive him back to Stockton that night.

“There’s a gluten-free bakery on North Jackson Street. They close in forty minutes. Don’t get one shaped like a—just go for the cupcakes. Thank me later.”

I changed my mind. I loved my brother. He was a genius. Throwing my shoes on as quickly as I could, I called out to him. “Text me the address.”

“You are so damned needy. Hurry!”

I grabbed my wallet and keys and headed out the door. Girls liked cake, right? But Tate wasn’t a regular girl. Two kisses and some declarations on my part hadn’t afforded me any details about her. I could tell when she was upset. I knew her angry blush from her desirous one. And I could tell you anything you wanted to know about her as a kid.

Whether or not she liked cake was still a mystery.

That was the reason I needed more time with her. I wanted to know every facet of Tate.

If she’d ever let me see her.

It was tearing me up not to hold her. It was like giving me a taste of the best ice cream I’d ever had and then telling me that I couldn’t have anymore for a year. I craved time with her.

I just craved Tate.

Now that I’d finally gotten her back, after forgetting how much I once wanted her, it was torturous to be away.

At the bakery, I grabbed one of everything. The place smelled like it was built out of wedding cakes and frosting. I felt like such an ass when the girl behind the counter asked me what my girlfriend’s favorite flavor cake was. I had no clue. Hell, I didn’t even know if Tate considered herself my girlfriend.

There was a chance I’d taken the trophy for dumbest Wright sibling away from West.

That was a hard feat.

Finally, with a dozen cupcakes in a box, I drove over to her dorm. I walked up two flights of stairs. I couldn’t deny the nervousness in my stomach as I got closer and closer to her room. The last time I was there, she’d asked me to come.

Now, I couldn’t tell if she wanted me around at all.

I knocked on her door and heard shuffling around inside. Whispering voices bantered back and forth. A few seconds later, the door inside her room closed.

Carter opened the door, but only a small crack. “Hey Bridge.”

It was hard to hide my disappointment.

“Hey, Carter. Is Tate here?”

Carter looked back into the room like she had no idea where Tate was.

“She’s here, but she just got in the shower.”

I smiled, trying hard not to vent my frustration out on her. It wasn’t her fault and I certainly didn’t want her telling Tate that I was rude. “That’s fine. I’ll wait out here.”

She shut the door a little bit more so that there was only room for her face to fit through. “Well, she’s pretty tired. Maybe it would be best if you just called her tomorrow. She worked all day and then busted her butt studying.”

I cleared my throat, giving myself a chance to work up a smile. “Sure. Tell her I’ll call her tomorrow. Oh…” I held up the box and she opened the door a little wider to take it. I tried to make the opportunity count and look into the room, but I didn’t see Tate. I don’t know why I expected to, but I did. “I didn’t know what kind she liked, so I bought one of each. Goodnight, Carter.”

Her friend just stared at the box. “Goodnight, Bridger.”

I hated the nickname Bridge, but somehow Carter calling me by my real name worried me even more.

I drove around the city for a while. The quantity of building fascinated me. When I first came here for college, I was alone. West was still a senior in high school. Stockton said I’d have trouble sleeping, all the noise and none of the darkness. It was quiet until West got there with me, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

I’d always wanted to come to the city, sure that the grass was greener here. But the thing about the city was—the only grass was the kind that was planted by the landscapers.

But going back home had renewed my love for the country life. As stupid as it sounded, I missed feeding the chickens and working on my own schedule. West was here, but I wanted to be home with my whole family. I wanted to be around when Will started dating and I wanted to be there when Stockton and Cami had kids.

Working in an office floated further and further away on my list.

I wasn’t sure it was ever on my list.

Nearing midnight, I was still driving around when I got a call. It was Tate.

I made my voice sound normal when really I was happier than happy to see her name pop up on the phone.

“Hello.”

“Hey!” She attempted to sound excited, but it didn’t carry. Whatever was going on with her, I wished she would just tell me. I thought we had at least progressed to trusting each other.

“I thought you were tired.”

“Oh, I am. I just wanted to thank you for the cupcakes. I love them.”

“I hope they’re good. West found the bakery. They make everything gluten-free. I know that makes you sick.”

She exhaled heavily into the phone. “You didn’t go to too much trouble, did you?”

Of course, I did. If she called me and requested I drive all the way back to Constance to get Preacher Wife’s peach cobbler, I’d do that too. I’d do just about anything she asked me to.

“It was worth it. I was just trying to see you.”

I couldn’t have sounded any more pathetic.

“How about tomorrow? I’m off work and I don’t have a class until noon.”

As stupid as it sounded, I didn’t answer right away. This whole scenario was vaguely familiar, like I was begging for time with her. I’d begged for time with Jesse too. Shaking those thoughts out of my head, I focused on Tate. I knew Tate. She wasn’t Jesse and I was doing her and me an injustice by constantly reverting back to that relationship.

“Do you want me to pick you up?”

“If you could, that would be great. This medicine for my stomach—I’m not supposed to drive. It makes me kind of loopy sometimes.”

“Call me when you get up. Carter said you needed some rest. And if you don’t feel like going tomorrow, I understand. I’ve been worried about you.”

Though I knew better, I swore I heard her cuss under her breath.

“Thanks. Could you do me a favor?”

“Anything for you.”

“This is going to sound stupid, but could you pray for me?”

“Of course, Tate. I already do.”

“Goodnight, Bridger.” She hung up first. I hoped she wasn’t overextending herself by trying to see me the next day.

To my surprise, a text came in early from Tate. She wanted to know if I’d pick her up in an hour.

I’ll be there.
I texted back and sat straight up in bed.

Looking over at West, lying face down on his bed, his head under the pillow, I felt revenge coming on. You had to be constantly on watch for revenge opportunities when West was your brother. I knew the thing that frightened West the most—thunder. I devised my plan fast, needing to get a shower and be dressed soon to pick up Tate. I found the track I needed on my iPod and then cranked up the speakers near his bed all the way up.

Come on Nature Sounds, do your thing.

With the remote in my hand, I stood at the door of the bathroom, ready to bolt inside whenever he came to. I opened the door quietly and then pressed play. It started out innocently enough, just a few drops of rain and splashing could be heard. West stirred a little but didn’t move.