Fireflies and Magnolias (19 page)

Right, and her brother had asked her to volunteer because she wouldn’t go gaga over Jake Lassiter, she reminded herself.

“Yes, we wanted the family to be represented. It’s a special cause.”

“Indeed it is. Well, I’d best be going. It was good to meet you for real, Susannah. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

His smile reminded her of Shelby’s term for Jake—sex-on-a-stick. She dropped her car keys, and she leaned down to pick them up. So did he. They bumped into each other, and his arm shot out when she stumbled a few steps.

“Steady now. Don’t want a pretty thing like you to fall to the ground.”

The heat from his hand was what she imagined lightning would feel like if it struck her.

“Thank you,” she said, nearly breathless, and took the keys from him. “It was good to meet you too.”

His cobalt blue eyes had the shine of surprise in them, she realized, and he didn’t take them off her face. Or remove his hand. The quiet around them only exaggerated the harsh sound of her racing heart and his quiet breaths. She’d never been much of a romantic, but she felt time slow down. In that moment, they were the only people in the universe.

His hand caressed her arm before finally releasing it, and he stepped back slowly, as if it was the last thing he wanted to do. She nearly followed him, wanting to keep their closeness, which didn’t feel odd at all right now.

“Well…now I had best be going,” he said, softly. “You take care, Susannah.”

She swallowed thickly. “You too.”

She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he walked back to his truck. He moved with purpose and grace, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that came from being a soldier or if he’d always had it. It was that special something that made a star. He didn’t swagger like some of those pretend cowboy country singers did. As he drove off, he waved. Her mind started buzzing, and her heart started thumping—the same physical response she experienced when she felt inspired to create an art project.

Then her legs trembled. The urge to sit down right where she was standing was strong.

What had just happened?

Against her better nature, she’d gone gaga over Jake Lassiter.

Clayton’s two-story colonial was painted white with black shutters, and it rested on a flat plain ringed with oak trees. Amelia Ann immediately fell in love with it. A black porch swing moved rhythmically back and forth on the wide white porch. There wasn’t much in the way of landscaping, something her sister could fix in a jiffy, but it was simple and grand in a way old Southern houses were. Good bones, Grandmamma Crenshaw used to say.

What surprised her most were the three horses in the pasture across the long drive leading to the front of his house. How had she not known he loved horses? That this was a passion they shared?

Because their volatile relationship hadn’t leaned much toward conversation, teetering more toward harsh words or intense confrontations.

Today that was going to change. She’d decided to drive out to his place after her shift at Community Legal. She couldn’t wait any longer, not now that she knew he’d told her brother about them. It had been hard to focus on her work at the clinic today.

All three horses galloped to the fence when she parked her BMW and exited. She hadn’t been around horses for so long that her heart simply flew with them as they sailed across the meadow toward her. Feeling that same freedom she’d always felt around the magical creatures, she ran over to them, thankful she’d changed before coming over. Now she had on a pale blue sweater with jeans and cowboy boots—a more appropriate outfit for frolicking with horses.

The largest horse, a black Friesian stared at her from under the curly mane that trailed between its eyes. Once upon a time, these powerful animals used to carry knights into battle, and the horse in front of her looked strong and stately enough to do just that. She reached out a hand, letting him take the lead. His nostrils flared, but the white Quarter horse on his left edged its way forward and licked her fingers.

“Oh, you’re a big sweetheart, aren’t you?” she asked, rubbing the white mare under her ears.

The Piebald Gypsy had a glossy white and brown spotted coat and seemed to be the most reserved of the bunch. It hung back from the fence.

“So you’re the curious one?” she asked the Friesian, and it nodded its head as if it understood her, making her laugh.

The temptation to say a proper hello was too strong to resist. She climbed the fence and swung her legs over so she was sitting on the railing. The black and white horses crowded her, nuzzling her, looking for treats, she suspected.

“You are the most gorgeous creatures ever.”

“I’ve never seen Odin take to a woman like that,” Clayton said from behind her.

She swiveled on the fence. Fire roared through her belly as she thought of the last time they’d seen each other…of the sensation of having that chiseled body pressed against hers. He was spellbinding, she decided, with hair as black and glossy as the Friesian. And downright sexy in a simple white T-shirt, jeans, and old cowboy boots.

“Odin must be the Friesian,” she said.

Clayton stood with his legs wide apart, and it struck her as a determined stance. She’d seen enough shades of his well-honed control to know a million different signs of it. Well, she’d feared he wouldn’t be happy she’d come to his home uninvited. Seemed she’d had reason to worry.

“He is. What are you doing here, Amelia Ann?”

Some of the simple delight the horses had given her faded. “You know why. Rye and Tory paid me a visit this morning.”

He looked away before meeting her eyes. “I had to tell him.”

A powerful nudge from one of the horses sent her spilling forward. Clayton caught her before she could hit the ground.

“Moses! No!” His hands hauled her close. “Are you all right?”

With his arms around her, the world seemed to fall back into its proper place. “Yes.” Like she had with the horses, she reached out a tentative hand to Clayton’s face, waiting to see how he’d respond. To see if she could still reach him.

His gray eyes were stormy. “You know this can’t continue,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I told Rye as much.”

So, he wasn’t unaffected, as she’d feared. He was tortured. The relief was tremendous.

“All I know is that we’re adults, and that my family intends to let us chart our own course. That’s what Rye told
me
this morning.” It might not be an easy road, but at least everything was out in the open.

“Your brother doesn’t exactly approve,” he said dryly. “If Tory hadn’t intervened, I would have a bruised jaw. It’s no less than I deserve.”

His guilt ticked her off. “You didn’t do anything wrong.
We
didn’t do anything wrong.”

He seemed unconvinced, and she let her hand fall.

“You’ll be happy to hear I told them about Community Legal.”

His brow winged up. “You did? How’d he take it?”

“He wasn’t happy, but he understands how important working there is to me. But I…ah…didn’t tell him about the other day at Jasinda’s apartment.”

His snort could have come from one of the horses. “Of course you didn’t. Dammit, Amelia Ann, I’ve had nightmares about it for the past couple of nights. Especially after what Jasinda’s man did to your car.”

It was hard to swallow. So, he’d seen the damage or forced himself to see it. She wasn’t going to ask for details. She didn’t need those images swimming around in her head with the others. Her nights were already sleepless and filled with nightmares, and the slightest sounds made her jump.

“I can’t stop thinking of how much worse that could have ended,” he said “Working there just isn’t safe.”

Okay, so she might have added pepper spray to the purse she carried to Community Legal to increase her feeling of safety. “It’s part of the job, Clayton. This was a rare case of bad luck all around. I don’t plan on repeating it.”

“You can’t know that for sure. What if I got you a different job?” he asked.

Her ire burst to the surface. “Like Kelly, Prentice & Stacks? Are you finally willing to admit you got me that cushy internship with your lawyer?”

He kicked at the tall weeds by the fence. “Fine. I got you a job there. Happy now?”

“I’m mostly over it. You might have gotten me in the door, but I garnered their respect all on my own.”

Odin nuzzled Clayton’s back, and he turned and gave the horse a good rubbing behind the ears. “I know you did, but princess, where you’re working now is life-and-death stuff, and I don’t want to see you… Ah, Christ.”

She stepped closer to him and touched his arm. There was real agony in his voice, just like there had been the other night. Any irritation with him faded. “See what, Clayton?”

“I don’t want to see you killed, okay?”

Is that what worried him? Then she thought about the way his daddy had died. “I won’t die on you, Clayton.”

His lip curled. “No one knows when they’re going to go, but some places change the probability some. Working at the clinic changes the probability.”

She was losing him again, she knew. While he stood tall in front of her, the man she loved was retreating behind a thick wall he’d erected—one probably as old as the day he’d learned his daddy had been taken from him out of the blue and for no good reason.

“Clayton?”

What was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to reach him?

“I haven’t ridden since I moved to Nashville. Can we take a ride?”

The golden sun was hovering warmly just above the oak trees, whose leaves had started turning into fall’s glorious kaleidoscope of autumnal colors. There would be enough time before sunset for them to tack up the horses and take a short ride.

He didn’t answer right away, his eyes focused on some point in the distance, so she caressed his arm. “Please.”

His gray eyes were blazing when he finally met her gaze, and it stole her breath.

“Okay, let’s go.” He reached for the halters hanging from a rusted nail on the white fence. “You can ride April.”

She fought the urge to do a herkie jump right there. “Not to look a gift horse in the mouth—haha—but I want to ride Odin. I’ve wanted to ride a Friesian ever since I was a kid.”

“Woman, I’m beginning to think you have a death wish.” He opened the side gate and placed a halter on Odin. “Let me guess. Your parents wouldn’t let you go near a Friesian.”

“Mama didn’t consider them proper mounts for Southern girls.”

After slipping the halter over the white Quarter, he made a clicking sound with his mouth. The two horses immediately followed him out of the paddock. The Gypsy neighed with gusto.

“I know you’re feeling left out, Moses, but it’s your own fault for nudging Amelia Ann off the fence. You know better than that.”

“You don’t need a lead rope?” she asked in amazement.

“No. I had them specially trained. Odin and April took to it. Moses didn’t.”

They started walking down the road to the right of his house. A natural plank barn appeared when they rounded a curve, and she smiled at the sight of it. No need for red paint here. She appreciated his value for doing simple things well.

“Who names their horses Odin, April, and Moses?”

“Mama named April since she bought her for me in that month. Odin got his name because I thought it would be pretty cool to name a horse after a Nordic god. And Moses…well, I bought him during one of the worst thunderstorms in Kentucky. The owner said he never spooked, and considering how much lighting and thunder there was that day, he more than proved his point. I decided that if Moses had ever needed a horse during the flood, this one would have been perfect, so I named him Moses.”

Clayton knew his Bible, which wasn’t surprising in the South, but the fact that he knew of and appreciated Nordic mythology gave her a new insight into him.

“You could have named him Sleipnir, not Odin.”

His brow winged up at her own reference to Nordic mythology. “I wasn’t looking to have Odin’s mythical horse. I wanted Odin himself.”

Perhaps she’d watched
Thor
too many times, but she could see Clayton as Odin, the Norse god who was the Allfather and ruler of Asgard. It was an image she liked.

“You’re a solid representation of Odin in the flesh if you ask me,” she said, deciding to make the comment even though she knew it was a risk. Right now, she felt like the ground between them and the barn was lined with broken glass.

Clayton only grunted, which had her twisting her hands together again—a nervous habit she’d worked so hard to overcome. Apparently, she wasn’t over it when it came to Clayton.

“Who takes care of the horses when you’re on the road?” she asked.

“I have a caretaker who lives on the property,” Clayton responded. Odin gently nudged him in the back, and he jogged ahead a few steps. “They’re excited to go riding. I don’t get to do it often enough.”

“But you still wanted horses,” Amelia Ann said, catching up to them.

His shrug was almost an afterthought—and so sexy she almost drooled right there.

“Being on the road can be tough. I wanted to have something to come home to.”

Funny how she’d never expected him to say that. He did want a home, but it didn’t look like the one she envisioned.

“You strike me as someone who likes being on the go all the time,” she said.

“Maybe I’m getting old,” he said with a pointed glance.

“When pigs fly,” she fired back, able to smile now. “Lamenting your old age won’t make me want you any less, you know.”

There. It was out in the open. Not that it had ever gone back into Pandora’s Box.

“I know that, but it doesn’t make our age difference any less real. Doesn’t it bother you that I’m the same age as Rye?”

This time she stopped and was delighted to see the horses immediately halt with her. Talk about well trained. “No. Why should it?”

He scanned the property like he was searching for the right words and hoped to find them written there. She walked over to Odin to let him nuzzle her chest while she waited for his response.

“I’ve lived hard, Amelia Ann. You’re way too innocent for me. I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was quiet as he said those last words.