Kyland (Sign of Love #7) (7 page)

I reached Tenleigh and grabbed her under the arms, lifting her up and pulling her into me and to the side, as her mother continued to screech and wail and punch out at Marlo. I started to step forward to help Marlo when a couple men I recognized as local police officers who must have had kids in the play, rushed forward. I stepped back as they grabbed hold of Tenleigh's mama. She clawed at them and screamed Eddie's name.

As she fought, her dress fell off her shoulder and exposed one of her breasts. I looked away.

"Get her in your car, Bill," one of the men said. "She practically has hypothermia." The man named Bill took off his sports coat and wrapped it around Tenleigh's mama's shoulders, although she continued to struggle weakly.

"Will you drive us to the hospital?" I heard Marlo say to the officers as I looked back to Tenleigh.

"I'll walk you home," I said to her. Tenleigh didn't look at me. Her eyes were still focused on her mama and Marlo. I turned my head in their direction as well.

Marlo looked behind her as the men held her mother up and began walking her out of the building. The look on Marlo's face was panicked as she looked between their mama and Tenleigh, clearly unsure about leaving her sister. I clasped Tenleigh's hand in mine. "I'll walk her home. I'll make sure she's safe," I said. Marlo's eyes darted to Tenleigh's and Tenleigh nodded her consent. Marlo's face relaxed very slightly and she mouthed, "Okay. My turn. Meet you at home." Tenleigh nodded her head again, a look of sorrow on her face that shook me to my core.

As her mother was dragged from the building, I looked at Tenleigh again. She seemed to be in shock, her cheeks bright pink, her neck covered in red splotches as she stared straight ahead. "Tenleigh," I said gently, as she took her hand away.

Her eyes moved to mine and the heartbreak I saw there made my chest squeeze so tightly, I almost brought my hand up to massage the pain away. She looked shell-shocked as her eyes moved slowly around the room, people still gawking at her, and talking in whispers that weren't soft enough not to float above the crowd.

. . . crazy . . . affair years back . . . never right . . . gotten worse . . . shameful . . . disgusting.

I wished they'd all shut the fuck up.
Tenleigh doesn't deserve this.

"Tenleigh, I need to go tell someone I'm leaving and then I'm going to take you home, all right?" As she looked at me, some sort of understanding seemed to come into her eyes. But she remained quiet, the same look of devastation on her face. "Okay," I confirmed. "I'll be right back. Stay right here. I'll be right back," I repeated.

I started making my way back to Shelly—it wasn't like I was her ride, but I figured it was the decent thing to do, and I heard the door slam behind me. I looked back and Tenleigh was gone.
Shit.
I looked over to where Shelly was standing looking at me expectantly. I paused only very briefly, and then I turned and ran after Tenleigh.

Tenleigh

The tears started before I'd even taken three steps outside the door of the school. The sudden blast of cold was like a slap to my face. It felt like the physical version of what I'd just experienced emotionally, in front of most of the student body and a good number of parents, too—humiliation and deep, deep shame. I ran faster, the wind hitting my skin like razor blades, my feet slipping on the icy road.

"Tenleigh!" I heard called behind me. Kyland. Stupid Kyland who had sat two seats away from me in the dark theater as a girl fondled him under her jacket. And I had no right to be filled with hot, painful jealousy. And yet I had been. He hadn't even wanted to kiss me. He'd made that blatantly clear by pushing me away, and yet seeing him with another girl sent hurt ratcheting down my spine. I'd wanted to cry and throttle her . . . or him, or both, I wasn't even sure. And I had no right—I was no one to him. All my
life
I was just a nothing, a nobody. My life was small and worthless. And it hurt so badly.

"Go away, Kyland!" I screamed back at him, hiccupping and picking up speed.

"Tenleigh, stop! You're going to hurt yourself. Stop!"

"What do you care?" I yelled, still running, slipping and jutting my arms to the side, righting myself before I went down.

"Tenleigh!" I heard him gaining on me and so I picked up some snow and turned around and threw it at him, letting out a small sob. I was being an immature child—I knew it. And yet it didn't seem that I had anything to lose. The snowball hit him in the shoulder and I turned and kept running, my steps clunky and ungraceful in the snow.

"Jesus, Tenleigh!" Kyland yelled. I turned around and picked up more snow and started hurling it at him over and over as he ducked and swore, but kept coming toward me. I turned around again and ran. I got about three steps and my feet went out from under me, sending me sprawling into a snow bank to my right. I cried out and then lay there sobbing, staring up at the clear winter sky as fat snowflakes fell on my face. I felt utterly desolate, and utterly alone. I registered Kyland's footsteps quickly approaching me and then I was scooped up, his warm arms around me, lifting me out of the snow as I continued to cry, the fight in me gone. "Shh," I heard in Kyland's smooth, masculine voice. "Shh, I've got you. You're okay. You're okay, Tenleigh. I've got you."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, shivering, trying to press myself closer into his warmth, his soothing words.

He carried me a little way and then sat down and held me to him as I cried more tears from a seemingly never-ending reservoir of pain. He was murmuring something against the top of my head that I didn't compute, words of comfort. And although I didn't process them, they soothed me all the same.

I thought back to the looks on the faces around me as my mama was dragged down to the ground in her dingy, see-through dress. I squeezed my eyes shut. It had to be one of the worst hurts in the entire world—being embarrassed by someone who was meant to protect you, not humiliate you. And yet I still loved her so much.

After a little bit, my tears stopped, but I didn't lift my head. Kyland kept gripping me tightly and when I finally looked around, I saw that we were sitting in the doorway of a closed hairdressing shop—protected from the weather by the small overhang above the door. We sat together, breathing, still shivering slightly, Kyland's arms around me as I gripped his coat in my fists and took comfort in his closeness.

"Kyland," I finally murmured.

"Yes, Tenleigh?"

"I'm sorry I threw snow at you," I whispered.

"It's okay. I deserved it . . . Tenleigh, I'm sorry for tonight. With Shelly . . . it . . ." He sounded unsure of what to say.

I released a defeated sigh. "You don't have anything to apologize for. You made it clear that we're not anything to each other." Kyland was silent and when I glanced up at him, he was running his tongue thoughtfully over his bottom lip, a small frown creasing his brow. I looked back down, my chest squeezing. I didn't blame him for not wanting to kiss me. Who would want to kiss the daughter of the town crazy? Who would want to attach himself to a girl like me? The thing I heard kids whispering at school sometimes was true—I was nothing but trailer trash. He might be poor, too, but his parents didn't humiliate him in public. In fact, his father and his brother died heroically, working hard to provide for their family. My own father had taken one look at me and hit the road.

"Kyland," I said again.

"Yes, Tenleigh?" he repeated.

I lifted my head and met his eyes—dark and in shadow in the dim light of the covered doorway. "I have to tell you something."

He lifted his hand and used his thumb to wipe away a tear still on my cheek. "What do you have to tell me?" he asked softly.

"I'm not really the daughter of a Russian prince."

He blinked at me and then laughed, sudden and deep and warm.

I let out a small laugh, too, and started to remove myself from his arms. But he held me tighter so I sunk back into him, knowing I was all over the place and suddenly not caring. I needed some tenderness. God knew I did. And right that second, I was going to take what Kyland was offering me. It may be temporary, but it would be enough for now.

"No family jewels?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Not even a family pebble. Not even a family grain of sand."

I heard his lips move into a smile.

"That was just a stupid pretend game my sister and I used to play."

"It wasn't stupid," he murmured.

"It was," I said, my voice breaking again. Kyland didn't answer, but his arms tightened around me. I wished I had known that it was dangerous for girls like us to pretend to be princesses. In that moment, dreaming of
anything
felt dangerous. Dreams failed, and when they did, reality hurt that much more.

"I have to tell you something, too," he said.

"What?" I sniffled.

"There aren't really any bobcats on our mountain. I mean, there are, but they're no danger to us. The 'Bobcat Protection Service' was all a ruse."

"I know," I said softly. I had enjoyed his company, too. I figured that's why he had told me that.

We held on to each other in the doorway for a little while until the wind changed directions and found us again and we both started shivering.

"I need to get you home," Kyland said, helping me to a standing position.

"I'm okay now." I let out a small sound of embarrassment. "I know you left Shelly behind—"

"Shelly got a ride with her brothers. I went for the food and the heat." He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Oh.

"Yeah, me too," I admitted. We both looked down and when we looked back at each other, we each let out an embarrassed laugh.

"Tenleigh . . . I'm sorry I kissed you." He grimaced. "I mean, shit . . . I'm not sorry I kissed you. What I'm sorry about is that I'm not going to do it again." He laughed a small, uncomfortable laugh. "I mean, I'm sorry for me, not for you. I know I'm missing out. I'm missing . . . The truth is, Tenleigh," vulnerability washed over his expression, "you might have noticed, I'm not exactly a catch anyway."

Sympathy filled me. I guessed the truth was that
neither
of us were exactly a catch—somehow though, that didn't make me feel better. And somehow, Kyland telling me he wasn't a catch felt like a lie he didn't even know he was telling.

"I don't have anything to offer. In six months, I won't even be here," he said.

"Kyland," I interrupted, "how about this, let's just be friends. I could use a friend, I guess." I paused, thinking. "And when we both leave here, under whatever circumstances we do, when we both
are
catches, we'll remember fondly the friend we once had back home and that'll be that. Okay? Simple." My eyes welled up with tears again and I wasn't even sure why. It didn't feel simple. I wished it did. "Do you have any friends?" I asked. So often, I'd seen him alone.

He shook his head, staring at me, the wheels turning behind his eyes. I couldn't read the expression on his face. "I haven't had a real friend since my brother died."

It felt like a balloon was inflating in my chest, pain for him replacing my own and making it difficult to take a full breath.  "Seems like we could both use one then."

"Yeah," he finally said. His voice sounded sad. "Yeah."

Tenleigh

We started to walk, both putting our heads down against the sting of the wind and cold. After trudging along for a little bit, my feet were wet and I started shivering again. Kyland put his arm around me and pulled me into his body and I let him. By the time we made it to Dennville, the snow had stopped. My feet were still wet, but I was a little warmer from walking
and
from Kyland's warmth.

"I should call the hospital to make sure Marlo and my mama made it there," I said. There was a pay phone outside the old post office—a rarity nowadays from what I knew. But up on our mountain, cell phone reception was sketchy and many people didn't have landlines. As for us, we couldn't afford either. Kyland nodded and guided me to the small booth where I used the phone book to look up the number to the hospital where I knew Marlo would take mama—the hospital that accepted Medicaid. I fished fifty cents out of my pocket. A few minutes later they'd patched me through to the floor my mama was on and were able to put Marlo on the phone.

"Hey, Ten. I'm so sorry. I was watching her. I just took a damn shower. Are you almost home?"

"Yes, and don't be sorry, Marlo. You and I both know it wasn't your fault. I'm okay. I promise. Do you need me? I could probably figure out a way to get there . . ."

"No. It's my turn. You stayed here last time. You even missed school. And I don't have to work until Tuesday. I'm just sorry you'll spend the holiday alone. We might be here for a few days. I didn't even think about Christmas until I got here and saw the tree in the lobby."

"I'm good. Don't worry about me. I love you." We both knew Christmas didn't mean much in our trailer anyway. It was just another day.

"I love you, too, baby sis. Oh hey, they need me to fill something out. Call me here if you need anything, okay? I'll be curled up in the waiting room, but I'll check for messages at the nurses’ station."

Well, at least she'd be warm in the waiting room. "Okay. Bye, Mar."

"Love you."

I paused for a second, staring at the phone and when Kyland looked at me questioningly, breathing into his hands to warm them up, I said, "They're okay. Settled in. They'll be there through Christmas, which . . . well," I straightened up, taking in a deep breath, "that's just the way it is." I was silent again, considering something. I picked up the phone book again and looked up a number in Evansly, and then dialed it. It rang twice and then a man's voice answered.

"Hi, Doctor Nolan? Sam?"

"Yes? How can I help you?"

I cleared my throat. "This is Tenleigh Falyn . . . I, shoot I . . ." I suddenly had doubts. Marlo would kill me. What was I doing?

"Tenleigh, what's wrong?" He sounded tense.

"I . . . well, our mama, uh . . . had an incident and well, Marlo's at the hospital with her and I just thought, I mean, I wondered if you'd want to . . ."

"I'm putting my jacket on, Tenleigh. Which floor is she on?"

"The twelfth." I knew it by heart.

He was quiet for a second. "The mental ward?"

"Yes," I whispered, closing my eyes, shame making me doubt what I was doing again. "I know you're a dentist, not a doctor, but I thought . . . God, I don't even know. I'm sorry. It's Christmas Eve." I glanced at Kyland who was watching me closely as I fumbled my way through the phone call.

"You did the right thing. At the very least I can go and keep Marlo company. Are you okay?"

I released a breath. "Yes, I'm fine. And that's really nice of you," I said. And I said it squeakily. Gratitude overwhelmed me.

Kyland's face grew concerned, but I nodded at him, letting him know everything was good.

"I'm really glad you called me. Thank you, Tenleigh."

"Okay, thank you. Truly, thank you. Bye, Sam."

I hung up and took a deep, calming breath. Marlo would likely murder me, but I felt good about what I'd done. Maybe Marlo didn't want to date him, but he was a nice guy. I had a good feeling about him. And everyone could use a nice friend or two, right?

"That was a friend of Marlo's," I said to Kyland. "I just called him to see if he would go sit with Marlo. The floor my mama's on, it's not the most pleasant of places."

He nodded sadly, and we set off up the hill. I was glad Kyland didn't ask me any questions at that moment—I wasn't quite ready to say any more. Half an hour later, we were at my trailer, where I threw the door open and we hurried in. At least Marlo had closed the door before running after mama or it'd be freezing inside. Our breath still plumed in the air. I turned on the two small portable heaters we had, although I knew it'd be a while before our drafty old trailer felt even remotely comfortable. I started stripping my wet boots off and when I looked up at Kyland, he was standing by the doorway uncomfortably.

"You should get dry," I said. "I mean . . . unless you need to get home. Oh!" I slapped my forehead. "You need to get home. Your mama . . ."

He shook his head. "No. My mama's fine. She's not waiting up for me. I just . . . I wish I could offer you a ride to the hospital. Will your sister need you there?"

I threw my boots aside and started peeling off my wet socks, still shivering. "No. We . . . take turns. It's what we do." I said. I didn't offer more than that, but Kyland nodded as if he understood, removing his shoes and socks, too. We took off our coats and I tossed him a blanket folded up on the couch where I slept. I pulled one around me as well and settled back, nodding to the spot next to me.

He hesitated for a second, but then sat down and pulled a blanket around himself, too.

"I like your tree," he said, nodding at our small Christmas tree. I smiled. We'd cut it down ourselves. It was small and we didn't have a lot of decorations, but we had a string of white lights and I loved them. Somehow, even our small, dingy trailer looked pretty in the glow of those twinkle lights.

"Thanks."

We were quiet for a minute before he spoke. "Tenleigh, I’ll understand if you don't want to talk about it, but if you do . . ."

I sighed. "My mama? You mean what's wrong with her?"

He nodded, but his eyes were tender.

I pulled the blanket more tightly around me, finally feeling warm. The wind whistled mournfully through the trees outside.

"My daddy brought her here when she was pregnant with Marlo. He left when I was three days old. Walked right out the front door of this trailer and never looked back."

"Shit, I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Don't be. Not for me at least. I never knew him, and after what he did to my mama, I'm glad I didn't."

"Is that what . . ." Kyland paused, seeming to be searching for the right words.

"Made her the way she is?" I shook my head. "No. I mean . . . maybe it made her worse, I don't know, but my mama, she's always been up and down . . . delusional sometimes. The doctor in town who prescribes her medication says she has a depressive disorder, but I'm not sure. It seems like a little more than that and he doesn't seem to know what he's talking about anyway." I looked down, feeling exposed. I'd never discussed any of this with anyone except Marlo.

"My mama met my daddy at one of her pageants. She used to be a beauty queen—her big claim to fame was the Miss Kentucky Sunburst win." I laughed a humorless laugh and then was quiet for a minute before continuing. "Anyway, my daddy was working as part of the lighting crew and they fell madly in love. Or at least that's what my mama says. She came from a good family, but when she told them she was pregnant and running off with a tattooed boy from a small mining town, they disowned her. She's tried to contact them over the years, but they won't even take her calls." I shook my head. "He moved her here, worked at the mine for a couple years, decided a wife and family didn't work out so well for him, and hit the road. That was that." I brushed my hands together indicating what my daddy had done with us. Brushed off, brushed aside.

Kyland was looking at me in a thoughtful way, not as if he felt sorry for me, but as if he understood and just accepted. It spurred me to continue.

"What happened with your mama and Edward Kearney?" he asked.

I pursed my lips. "They started having an affair when I was eight and Marlo was eleven. He told her he was going to leave his wife, take care of us, move us into his big house in town. My mama, she thought he was some sort of savior."

"Are you sure that's true? I mean, if your mama sort of has a skewed . . ."

I shook my head. "That's what he told her. This trailer is small, the walls are thin." I looked at him pointedly.

His eyes widened. "He came here?"

"Yup. All the time."

He ran his hand through his hair, his lips pressed together. "Jesus. What a fucking pig." He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn't.

"He liked it, I think. Coming here. I could see it in his eyes. It gave him some sort of weird thrill. He'd leave money on the table before he left."

Kyland made another disgusted sound in his throat.

"Anyway, this went on for a couple years. He used my mama like she was a whore. She thought she was his beloved." I shook my head again. "One year, my mama dragged us into town to confront him and his wife. The three of us walked eight miles to his house, knocked right on his front door. I was so humiliated." I looked to the side, running my index finger along my lower lip, the despair of that moment coming back to me. I didn't want to meet Kyland's eyes. Kyland remained quiet, waiting for me to continue.

"Edward, he came to the door, and when my mama told him why she was there, he spit on her." I turned my eyes to Kyland's. "He
spit
on her," I repeated. "And then he slammed the door in her face." I looked off behind Kyland, picturing the way the sky was a deep, twilight blue, picturing the look of devastation on my mama's face, picturing the dust our shoes kicked up as we walked silently home, looking down the whole way.

"Tenleigh . . ." he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

I nodded. "It's just the way it is, I guess."

"No wonder you swore off men," he said with a small smile.

He was teasing me affectionately. I smiled back. "That's why it's a good thing we're just friends."

He chuckled. After a second he asked, "Do you feel weird about applying for the scholarship with Edward Kearney being the administrator and all?"

I shrugged. "Not really. Tyton Coal awards it. He's just the face for it. And if it helps me get out of here, I'm willing to set aside any pride I might have about that."

He nodded, looking thoughtful, his eyes focused downward.

After a few beats, he brought his eyes to mine. God, he was so handsome. Our gazes met and held. I blinked, warmth unfurling in my belly. "Do you want some hot chocolate?"

"Uh, yeah, sure."

I got up, the blanket still around me and went to the small kitchen at the front of the trailer. Kyland followed me, his blanket around him as well. As I went about boiling water, Kyland watched me, leaning his hip against the small doorway. I looked away, concentrating on my task. His masculinity suddenly seemed to fill the trailer. Maybe it was because I wasn't used to having a male share my space, or maybe it was just because I was hyperaware of him in general. And I hated that. I hated it because we
were
friends. I'd declared it myself. After he'd told me he'd never kiss me again, true. But if we weren't going to kiss then it was either friends or nothing. I took a deep breath and poured the hot water into the two mugs I'd already poured the hot chocolate mix into. I turned off the hotplate and then handed one of the mugs to Kyland. Our hands brushed when he took the handle from me and our eyes both darted upward. "Sorry," I whispered.

"For what?"

I blinked. "Um . . ."
For not being able to stop wanting you to kiss me until I'm breathless. For not being able to stop thinking about the way you tasted. For wondering if I'll ever feel the same thrill again that I felt when your lips first touched mine. For lying and pretending I'm happy just being your friend.
"For making it so hot." My eyes moved down to the mug in his hand.

"Hot is good. It'll warm us up."

I nodded, scooting past him. I needed some space. What I really needed was a blast of frigid winter air in my face, but I wasn't willing to freeze myself again now that I was finally getting warm.

What did friends do?

"So . . . do you want to play Scrabble or something? I have a few old board games. They were my dad’s."

"Sure. What do you have?"

"Uh, let me look." I went over to a small closet and peered inside at the top shelf. It'd been forever since Marlo and I had played a board game. Suddenly, it sounded like a really fun idea. "Scrabble . . . Uno . . . Monopoly . . ."

"Monopoly!" Kyland said, enthusiastically. I laughed and reached for the game.

I sat on the couch and Kyland sat down next to me. I pulled the coffee table closer to us and started setting it up, putting the money tray in front of me so I could be the banker, and handing him the real estate cards.

"I'd rather be the banker," he said.