Kentucky Groom (11 page)

* * * *

Had she been too harsh on Jay? Carrie shaded her eyes from the glaring afternoon sunshine. A light film of perspiration had broken out along her upper lip, and she felt the crevice between her breasts growing damp. She didn’t care about the heat. For some reason she welcomed it, welcomed its piercing honesty. Its consistency.

Lowering her hand, she gripped the rough railing of the paddock fence. In the distance Mary’s horses grazed with dreamy contentment. She envied these creatures their placid existence. Food, water, a run along the pasture fence. Basic elements. Not like the complications that crowded her life.

Tomorrow she would bring Jay home to her borrowed house with its borrowed furniture and cheap decorations. Carrie clutched the jagged surface of the railing. How would she cope with a man whose doctors wouldn’t let stay by himself? A man who still had the power to ignite her emotions.

Her fingers bit into the wood. How could she offer Jay her love? She had told Carter she loved him. And she did. But at the same time, she knew she couldn’t trust him. It was a curious ambivalence.

Carrie let out a long sigh. She’d thrown out a challenge to Jay.
Forgive your father.

What had made her do that? Was it because, in her heart of hearts, she believed he would never find a way to forgive his father? If he did, she would be forced to deal with her own lack of mercy. Perhaps she didn’t want to forgive Jay, for in doing so, she would have to deal with her own emotions. Was she afraid to love again so soon after Tate’s death? This revelation was like a heavy weight. Carrie could hardly breathe.

She had loved Tate once upon a time, loved him so much that she didn’t protect herself when it had counted. Yet somehow, theirs had been a cheerless, though dutiful marriage. Carrie had to admit that her husband had been an honorable man. He’d married her and provided for her and their daughter. Their love had been little more than swift, mistaken passion. It had died with the birth of Jesse. Would the love she now experienced die the same kind of hapless death?

Carrie turned her back on the horses and pushed away from the fence, striding briskly back to the dreary, doublewide mobile home. As she walked, her mind played hopscotch over the ironies of life, the ironies no adult ever revealed to a child.

For no matter how hard you try, your life never ends up like you plan when you were growing up.

Chapter Ten

Wildwood Stables
Old caretaker’s house

Stretching out his legs on the coffee table, Jay rested his shaved head on the top of a worn living room sofa. Shutting his eyes, he honed in on the dinner-making sounds coming from the kitchen—the sizzle of frying hamburgers, clatter of dishes, Jesse’s laughter. He was overpowered by a sharp sense of smell—grease from the burgers, lemon from newly polished wood, the sweet smell of Carrie’s perfume that drifted like a specter throughout the double-wide, prefabricated home.

He was staying with Carrie for the next few days before going back to his apartment over the stables. Was he up to the challenge?

Jay was determined to win back Carrie’s love and knew full well he must court her again. It had been easy the last time. She had been open and trusting. Now she was closed off, distant. He regretted that distance. Somehow, he would overcome Carrie’s misgivings and win her trust back.

Then the smoke alarm went off.

Jesse screamed a bloodcurdling scream that penetrated the recesses of Jay’s heart. He jumped to his feet. A thin layer of smoke from frying hamburgers clung to the ceiling, setting off the alarm. Jay spotted the smoke detector in the hallway, reached up and detached the nine-volt battery.

The agonizing noise of the alarm ceased, but not Jesse’s cries. Jay was stunned by the sight of Jesse huddled on the kitchen floor wrapped in her mother’s arms.

Carrie glanced up at him, and he understood at once the haunted look he had seen in her eyes at the hospital. It had been because of Jesse. Jay went to the stove and removed the heavy black iron frying pan from the heat.

“It’s okay, honey,” Carrie crooned to her daughter. She folded the little girl in her arms and rocked her back and forth as a mother would rock an infant. “Jay’s taken care of it. It’s just the smoke from the frying hamburgers.”

Slowly Jesse’s sobs subsided. When she raised her eyes to Jay, he was startled by the depth of trust he saw in them.

“Thanks,” the little girl mouthed.

“Hey, no problem.” Jay shrugged off her thanks, knowing it was time to lift everyone’s spirits. He grinned at the two of them. “When do we eat? I’m starving. Hospital food was really the pits.”

Jesse scrambled to her feet and dove at Jay, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and burying her head against his body. Jay reached down and stroked the girl’s blond head. He had no words of comfort. Just his presence seemed to be enough for Jesse.

His gaze caught Carrie’s as she looked up at him from where she still sat cross-legged on the floor. It was as if she said thanks with her eyes. Damn! Gratitude again, not love.

Forcing back his disappointment, Jay bent his head, slowly disengaged Jesse’s embrace, and stooped down to be on her eye level.

“How about eating our hamburgers outside?” he asked. “I saw a nice picnic table under a big shade tree. How about cleaning it off for us?”

Jesse glanced at her mother who was scrambling to her feet. “Good idea,” Carrie echoed. “Take that damp rag over there.”

Jesse nodded. As she closed the door behind her, Jay stood up frowning. “She’s a changed child.”

Carrie glanced at him and turned to face the stove, tears in her eyes. “She’s been that way since the fire. She’s so fearful and timid. I can hardly leave her.”

“I see that.”

“I’m trying to be patient with her,” Carrie explained. “The doctor suggested a child psychologist, but my insurance won’t cover it.”

“I can pay for it.” The words were out of his mouth before he considered them.

The muscle in her jaw clenched. “I don’t want your help.”

“I don’t mind. I’ve got plenty of money, remember?” It was the truth, damn it. Trouble was, it was again the wrong thing to say, and he recognized in his offer the same sort of action his father would take. It bothered him.

“Yes, I know.” Carrie turned from the stove with a plate of fried hamburgers in her hands. She shoved it at his midriff. “Here, take this.”

“If you won’t take money from me, I’ll loan it to you.”

“I could never pay it back.”

He shrugged. “Then consider it a gift.”

Her anger flared. “Like buying Tate’s business? I don’t care for your gifts. They come without the truth attached.”

Jay walked to the door. She knew how to hurt a guy. “Some people would appreciate it.”

Carrie caught up to him, and touched his upper arm, causing him to pause and turn toward her. “Wait, Jay. I
do
appreciate what you’ve done for me. It’s just that I want to make it on my own.”

Breath caught in his throat as he glanced down at her. She was so delicate, so vulnerable. A poignant ache throbbed in his chest. He placed the plate on the top of a nearby television, freeing his hands and then lifting a finger, caught a tendril of her blond hair and brushed it away from her face. Carrie’s lips were pressed together in a tight, hard line, but he noticed the movement of her throat as she swallowed.

“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” he asked. She stared up at him with her wide doe-like eyes. “You feel indebted to me because of Jesse, and I don’t want your gratitude. Then you tell me you want to stand on your own two feet, and I fuss at you because you don’t want my help.”

Her eyes grew wary. He traced a fingertip from her eyebrow down the curve of her cheek to the line of her stubborn jaw. “It’s just that I love you so much.” The admission ripped from his gut. “I want to show you that I love you. I want to do things for you, help you. It hurts when you won’t let me, and it hurts when all you’ll give me is your grudging gratitude. I want your love. I had that for a while. I know I did.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Jay.” Her voice was soft like the texture of her skin. “But I can’t.”

“Shhh.” Jay pressed her lips with his finger. “Don’t tell me what you can’t do.”

He wanted her so badly. Slowly he lowered his head and replaced his fingertip with his lips. Gently at first, he begged her forgiveness with his kiss, his tongue darting softly into the warmth and sweetness of her mouth. She sighed deeply within her throat as she responded to his plea. Caressing her face with his hands, he held her carefully, afraid to break the tenuous link that bound her to him for the moment.

A clatter outside warned them before Jesse burst through the door. Carrie broke away, turning from him, her hand straying to her mouth.

“Table ready, imp?” Jay asked Jesse. He was shaken beyond belief by the short kiss.

“Mary has turned her mares and foals out. They’re grazing right next to the fence.”

Jay was glad to hear the excitement in Jesse’s voice.

“Great, let’s go take a look.” He picked up the hamburgers.

“Jesse, take these paper plates and bag of chips.” Carrie handed them to her. “I’ll bring the lemonade and buns.”

Jay held the door open and Jesse ducked under his arm. Glancing back at Carrie, he saw her standing in the kitchen doorway, a look of wistfulness in her eyes and a shy smile upon her lips.

* * * *

What was the matter with her? Carrie leaned her elbows on the picnic table. Why had she let Jay kiss her like that? She was leading him on and giving him hope.

Jay and Jesse stood together at the pasture fence. The little girl bent down and pulled up a chunk of grass, offering it to an inquisitive chestnut colt that lipped the grass from her hand and snorted for more.

What was the old saying? The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. Carrie wondered if that applied to her relationship with Jay. Was she wrong to expect more from him? Jay was human. He wasn’t perfect. After her disappointing marriage, was she too wary about this man who had disappointed her already? He was good and kind, having her welfare at heart. But could she trust him? Or was she too stubborn to try?

Her mind was so jumbled and cluttered. She was tired of trying to figure it all out. Tired of the worry and the heartache.

Twilight scattered all around them, full of the night sounds of crickets and the muffled hoot of a distant owl. Pinpricks of light flickered in the air as fireflies came out to search for mates. Jay and Jesse left the fence. While Jesse skipped around them, cupping lightening bugs into her hands, Jay returned to the picnic table and straddled the bench, sitting down across from her.

“I’m going to need to go in,” he said, his eyes enigmatic in the falling gloom. “The bugs are eating me alive.”

“Are you tired?”

“Yes.”

It was his first afternoon home from the hospital. Of course he must be exhausted. Carrie scanned the pale planes of his face. He looked like a sheared sheep with stray tufts of red hair standing up on his head. She allowed her lashes to lower over her eyes, and in her mind’s eye, she remembered his warm, moist breath and the softness of his mouth. With that memory, her throat grew dry. In self-defense, her eyes flew open, only to find his gaze stroking her face.

“You’re so beautiful.” His words were as hot as the night.

Carrie felt herself flush. “You don’t sound too tired to me.”

“I can’t help it.”

“You certainly can.” She fixed him with a determined glare.

It made him laugh, the warm admiration showing in his eyes. And then he rubbed her bare leg with his. Slowly. Up and down, making her skin feel hot. The muscles of his calf were warm and hard. A fire-like glow lit in the pit of her stomach.

“Jay!”

“Yes?”

“Cut it out. There’s Jesse.” Carrie inclined her head toward her daughter, reminding him of her presence.

“She can’t see anything,” he said with his endearing smile spreading across his face.

“But I can’t . . . .” Her breath rasped harshly in her throat.

“I told you not to talk to me about
can’t
. You don’t know the possibilities having me in your life will open up. There will be no
can’t
between us.”

“Don’t play games with me.” His leg still touched hers, causing a connection between them that she didn’t want.

“I’m not playing games. I’m dead serious.” His voice was quiet as the humor went out of his eyes. “I want the magic back. The spark we had before the fire. Call me selfish.” He shrugged, his gaze locked with hers. “I want you.”

It had been a long time since anyone had talked to her like that—since she had seen that look of yearning in anyone’s eyes. Carrie glanced down, self-conscious. She wanted him too.
Admit it.
On some primeval level the two of them connected. She swallowed. As he rubbed her again, an exquisite shiver shot up her leg.

Carrie jumped up and placing her hands on the table leaned forward with a scowl. “Look, this is hard enough. Don’t make it worse.”

“You didn’t have to invite me into your home.”

“You’re wrong. I had to invite you, so be a good guest, please.”

His gaze riveted her, throwing her a teasing challenge that made her shudder. “You’re right. I’ll behave.” Jay stood up and cleared the table.

The wind was knocked out of Carrie’s sails. For a moment, he had taken away the fight with his acknowledgment. She felt a strange loss. Picking up her plate and gathering the dirty utensils, she carried them into the house. In her heart, she knew the battle couldn’t be over so quickly.

Because conflicting feelings of desire and hurt, love and anger still raged inside her.

* * * *

The heart-stopping scream reverberated throughout the house, awakening Carrie from a hard sleep. She shot to her feet. Jesse! Another nightmare. Carrie hadn’t expected one tonight. Her daughter had been so happy earlier, watching television with them after dinner and going to bed late.