My Heart Lingers (A Hearts of Misty Mesa Story): BWWM Interracial Romance (5 page)

Surprised by the shift in mood, Kyra folded her hands in her lap and listened to the music on the radio. The lazy strains of the steel guitar lulled her into a state of relaxation as Cole drove her home. “See?” he remarked. “I told you that you’d be doing more than speaking the local jargon. You’re living it. Tonight I got you in a pair of cowboy boots and off to the rodeo.”

“You did.” Kyra studied her boots. If she briefly closed her eyes, she could imagine it was just like how it was ten years ago, when they came home from their Friday night dates. Back then, Cole had always driven a little slower once he turned onto the street where she lived.

“Looks like lights are out already for everyone,” Cole observed as he drove the truck past houses.

“They are,” Kyra said as she glanced out the window. “I slept like a baby the past two nights. I used to complain all the time as a teen about how dead Misty Mesa was and how everyone went to bed too early. Now I’d give anything to have this kind of peace and quiet again.” Kyra had grown used to people being awake at all hours of the night in Chicago. In fact, her neighbor was probably gearing up this minute to bang dishes in the sink at midnight and to later run his vacuum cleaner at 2AM.

Cole parked the truck in front of the driveway and walked her to the door. “That porch swing really bugs me. I’ll come by later this week to fix it for you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s fine. I like working with my hands, not just moving them across a computer keyboard.”

Kyra peeked at his hands beneath the light of the porch. They were masculine hands, with long tapering fingers and wide palms. She remembered how they felt yesterday when he carried her. She had to stop herself from thinking how they once felt holding and caressing her skin all those years ago. “I had a fun time tonight.”

“Me, too. I think I did hear you cheering from the stands.”

“My mother always said I had a loud mouth.”

He lowered his eyes to look at her lips. “I’d say expressive is a better word.” His blue gaze flicked back up. His irises darkened with an emotion Kyra thought she’d seen before, but couldn’t determine if she was accurate.

He’s a grown man now.
Just because she harbored lingering feelings towards him didn’t mean he hadn’t moved on. He was probably doing all of this for her out of the goodness of his heart. She was alone in town and he wanted to make sure she felt safe and welcome. He was raised to be courteous. She shouldn’t try to read anymore into it.

But she certainly wanted him to do something before he left. How many times had he kissed her on the front porch, just long enough before they both got scared her parents were peeking from behind the curtain? Kyra sighed. “This town is like a time warp. I keep thinking of when I was younger, you know?”

He gave a light nod and observed a moth fluttering in the light. “I hope tonight will be a good memory for you, then.”

“It will.” She waited for his next words.

“Goodnight, Kyra. I’ll see you at the ranch tomorrow. Give me a call to let me know when you’re coming. Both my landline and cell numbers haven’t changed.”

“You’ll know it’s me by the Illinois area code.”

He strode to his truck, where he waited until she was inside the house before he drove away. Old-fashioned. Men like him were very rare these days, which made Kyra wonder how she could have been so foolish as to let him slip away.

***

Cole placed his saddle on the rack and left the tack room. He needed that ride after a morning spent sitting at his desk. He checked his voicemail for new messages. No word yet from Kyra. Maybe she got tied up with work at her house.

He waved to the two riding instructors and the ten children as he passed them on his way from the stables. The kids were excited to ride down to the pond today. They usually chattered in the center’s main building, but outdoors beneath the big blue Texas skies, they fell in awed silence of nature. Their reaction made Cole happy. He enjoyed fostering an appreciation of ranch life in them.

In the hallway of the main building, he came across Ron, who carted a tray of mesquite chili for the kids’ lunch. Ron nodded to him. “I didn’t get a chance to congratulate you on your win at the rodeo yesterday. You took off for the stands as soon as the competition was over.”

“Sorry. Kyra was waiting for me. I didn’t want her to think I left her to go celebrate with the boys.” Cole had told Ron before the rodeo that he had invited Kyra, so it was no surprise on Ron’s part. Just as the cook continued on his way to the cafeteria, Cole stopped him with a question. “By the way, has anyone stopped by the front desk today looking for me? I’ve been out all morning.”

“Not that I know of. Daisy might have seen someone.” Ron referred to the center’s receptionist, a good-natured grandmother of seventy years young.

“I’ll ask her in a minute. Thanks.” Cole went to go wash his hands and splash water on his face. When he walked to the reception area, he found Kyra standing over Daisy’s desk.

Daisy had the phone to her ear. She looked up at him, smiled, and put the phone on the receiver. “There you are. I was dialing your office extension. This young lady is here to see you.”

Cole wished he had spared a second to glance at his appearance in the bathroom mirror. He hoped he didn’t look too rough around the edges from the morning’s ride. Kyra looked great as always. Today she had on dark denim jeans that hugged her legs and a red sleeveless blouse that showcased her toned arms. She ran track in high school and still kept herself in shape, but the years since added a sensual line of womanly curves to her form.

When she placed her hands behind her back, she accentuated her slim waist and round hips. “Hi, Cole. Sorry I didn’t call ahead. I was having the carpet cleaned and I’ve been doing yardwork all morning.”

“It’s alright. I was away from my desk. We can talk more in my office. Would you like some water or coffee?”

“No thank you.” She shook her head. Today she wore her hair in a ponytail. A few wavy tendrils brushed the side of her face when she moved.

“Follow me, then. I’ll give you the five-cent tour along the way.”

Kyra walked beside him as he showed her around the main building. She admired the architecture and asked questions about the facility, how the different skills of ranch life were taught to the children. They peeked in the cafeteria to see the children eating lunch. She met a few of the instructors who taught music and painting. Cole watched her as she engaged them in conversation. Her brown eyes lit up with interest as she listened to the instructors talk about their passion for art and serving the community.

The tour ended thirty minutes later when they reached his office. He left the door open a little behind him. “The instructors really enjoyed talking to you.”

“I liked talking to them. You can tell they’re very enthusiastic about the work they’re doing here.”

He offered her a seat in front of his desk. “We all take our work seriously, but we have fun, too. My parents wanted a portion of their land to be used to benefit the town. This is my way of carrying on their wishes.”

Kyra smiled up at him. “I know they would be very proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

Cole opened the top desk drawer and withdrew a stack of papers thick as a small town phone book. “This is the hard copy of the files we need to complete for the center to get accredited. If you’re up to it, I’ll email you the digital version.”

Kyra reached for the papers. The soft skin of her fingertips brushed over his knuckles. Cole caught the scent of her perfume. It was soft and airy, reminding him of clean linens set out to dry in the sunshine. He studied her as she skimmed through the paperwork. Her lips had a subtle sheen of pink gloss. She puckered them slightly in concentration as she read. He was almost tempted to lean over, take the papers from her, and kiss her right there on the spot. He fought the same urge the night before when he stood with her on her front porch. Cole imagined it was just him being nostalgic and on a high from winning a ribbon in the rodeo, but today he felt exactly the same, if not more attracted to Kyra.

She set the stack of papers on his desk. “The deadline for filing this is in a couple weeks.”

“So what’s the verdict, counselor? Do you think you can give me a hand?”

She tilted her head and her ponytail grazed her shoulder. “I don’t see why not. There are a lot of forms to fill out, but most of them are pretty standard. I can come to the center during my breaks from housecleaning and work on them.”

Cole was so pleased he almost clapped. “You have no idea how much I appreciate what you’re doing for me and for the kids.” The phone on his desk rang. “Excuse me.” He picked up. “Cole McCrea speaking.”

“Cole, you have another visitor.” Daisy’s voice barely came through the line.

“Daisy, could you speak up? I can hardly hear you.” He tapped the volume button.

Static occurred on the other end. It sounded like Daisy was shifting places. “Are you still there?” This time, her voice was clear.

“I am. Who’s out front?”

“I didn’t want to bother you while you were meeting with that sweet young lady, but Mr. Rodriguez is here.” Daisy lowered the volume of her voice again. “I think it’s about you-know-what.”

Cole held in a tired sigh. Michael Rodriquez used to be one of his old high school buddies. Now he was a nuisance, a money-hungry one at that. Ever since Cole broke land on his ranch for the youth center, Michael had been chasing him down to buy the land from him. He called himself a developer, but Cole saw the extent of Michael’s other properties in town. He left a share of vacant motels, strip bars, run down dives, and closed businesses in his wake, none of which Cole had any intention of letting happen to his property. “Tell him he’ll have to wait. I’m in a meeting.”

“Alright-y.” Daisy sounded equally weary. “I’ll try telling him again.”

Cole hung up the phone. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” Kyra turned to the door when she heard the pitter-patter of sneakers and the clicking of tiny boot heels. “Are those the children I hear?”

“Looks like lunchtime is over for them.”

The door opened wider. Cole saw the top of a young boy’s red-banded cowboy hat. “Yes, Taylor?”

Ten year-old Taylor peeked inside. “Mr. Cole, are you going to show us how to tie a lasso today?”

“Later this afternoon.”

“Good, ‘cause this is what I did so far.” He stuck his arm inside the office. He dangled a frayed rope, displaying a series of snarls and tangles he previously tried to fashion into a lasso knot.

Kyra smiled at the little boy. Cole went around the desk and took the rope from Taylor. “First you have to learn to loop the rope like this.” He demonstrated with one end. “Then you can form a knot. Practice the first step, and I’ll show you the second later.”

“Thank you, Mr. Cole.”

“You’re welcome. We have a guest at the center today. What do you say to Miss Kyra?”

The boy peered at Kyra from under the wide brim of his oversized hat. He had to lift it before it fell over his eyes. “Hi, Miss Kyra.”

“Hello, Taylor. It’s nice to meet you.”

He smiled shyly. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“Good job.” Cole handed him the rope. “Show the other kids what I just taught you. See you in a bit.”

Taylor waved goodbye before he ran down the hall to catch up to the other children. Cole closed the door again. “He’s a good kid. He comes by my office at least once a week asking me to show him how to do something cowboy-related. Last time it was bronco busting. He didn’t take it too well when I said I didn’t think he was quite old enough.”

Kyra stood up from her chair and rubbed her eye. “Can you point me to the ladies room? I need to fix my contact lens.”

“You go past two doors, turn left, and it’s right in front of you. You won’t miss it.”

Kyra excused herself and slipped out without a glance at him. Cole’s desk phone rang again. “Yes, Daisy?”

“Sir,” she whispered into the phone, “I tried telling Mr. Rodriquez just what you told me to say, but he’s getting real antsy. He won’t sit down. He keeps asking me where you are and what you’re doing.”

Cole gritted his teeth. Michael was so rude and disrespectful to his staff. It seemed he got worse every time he visited the center. “I won’t make you put up with him any longer, Daisy. Send him to my office. He knows the way.” Cole hung up the phone with a loud click. Whatever Michael wanted to say to him this time, he’d make sure the sleazy land developer left knowing he wasn’t welcome at the center, once and for all.

Kyra dabbed at her eyes with a paper towel after she splashed water on her face. She reached into her purse for drops to remove the redness from crying. She didn’t expect to be reduced to tears at the sight of the little boy Taylor, but it happened.

He was ten years old, the same age her and Cole’s child would have been if she hadn’t miscarried. She thought she dealt with the pain of the loss years ago, but the doctor and other women said she would always remember the little human life to which she briefly bonded. She’d also been told that at certain points in her lifetime, the memory would return and she could possibly grieve all over again. Kyra didn’t expect to experience such grief today, and in such an acute manner.

She straightened her hair in the mirror and reapplied a dab of pink lip gloss to make herself presentable again. She had to say goodbye to Cole for the afternoon and head back to the house. She had an afternoon appointment to meet with the appraiser. Hopefully when she returned to the center later this week, she wouldn’t go to pieces so easily.

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself before she went to Cole’s office. His door was open, and he was talking to a man of medium height, with olive skin and dark hair. The man wore an expensive, though ill-fitting pinstriped suit. “Pardon me for interrupting,” she said. “I’m going to leave. I’ll see you later, Cole.”

“Kyra, don’t you recognize me?” The man held out his arms. His suit bunched at the shoulders and stretched over his rounded middle. “It’s me, Mike Rodriquez.”