My Heart Lingers (A Hearts of Misty Mesa Story): BWWM Interracial Romance (8 page)

Cole rested his hands on the pommel of the saddle. “You can see how my mother was stern even in her letters, but she wasn’t a liar. She meant every positive word in there about you.”

“I…maybe so. Maybe she did. It makes me feel better.” Kyra was fumbling for words. Cole wanted to know how she really felt. Was it a bad idea to let her read the letter?

She folded the letter and returned it to the envelope. She handed it to him. “How sweet of her to write you a letter while you were in college. It’s more personal than an email.”

Cole shook his head. “No, Kyra. My mother wasn’t writing letters to me because she preferred them over emails. I wasn’t speaking to my parents at the time. I was angry at them.”

She blinked. “For what?”

“I thought they were the reason why you stopped seeing me and wouldn’t return my calls. I thought it was about the baby, that they may have convinced you to…” He couldn’t say it.

“Convinced me to do what?” She pressed him to finish his sentence.

He didn’t want to finish the sentence. It still pained him to utter the words to describe what took place right after he left home. “To go through with it.”

***

Kyra’s lips parted. She sat frozen in the saddle as she stared at Cole. The warm sun hit her back but she felt chilled to the bone. Of all the things she expected to experience today on the ranch, this was by far the very last one. The old pain of her loss and the damaging rumors of abortion returned full force, seizing her lungs and wrapping around her throat. She drew a ragged breath to speak. “You lied to me, Cole. You told me you weren’t living in the past anymore, but that’s exactly what you’re doing. It’s all everyone in this town wants to do whenever they run into me.”

“Kyra, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I believe you do understand me, or at least you can see the pain I’m going through.” She felt the tears sting behind her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry in front of him. Not now, not after what he said. The old rumors had more sway over him than anything happening in the present. He still acted and based his communication with her on them. “It’s been ten years. I’m tired of living with this shadow hanging over my head.” She tugged on one of the reins to make her horse turn around.

“Wait.” Cole reached out his hand.

“No. Please don’t try to stop me. I’m going home to finish the paperwork. It’ll be filed for you first thing on Monday morning. Then you and I won’t have anything more to say to each other.”

She turned the horse for the stables, refusing to look over her shoulder at Cole.

Kyra glanced at the multiple missed calls on her phone. Cole tried to contact her Saturday night and again on Sunday. She listened to two of Cole’s voicemails asking her to return his calls. “Kyra, I’m sorry. We had a misunderstanding. I want to straighten this out. Give me a call when you get this.” On Sunday night, she fought the urge to hit the “call back” option on the touchscreen.

No, she told herself firmly while she went into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of instant coffee. She didn’t want to speak to Cole, but it had little to do with reading his mother’s letter. It had mostly to do with him and why he thought it was a good idea to mention her past pregnancy.

They had been getting along well since she first came to town. Maybe a little too well, as she allowed herself to rekindle her old feelings for him. But did those feelings ever truly go away? Kyra studied the area in front of the kitchen sink where she and Cole acted on their feelings. Those few moments of stolen kisses came very easily, as though their decade apart only served to heighten their need for each other.

Perhaps those kisses were exactly what made Cole want to pick up right where they left off. He needed to talk about the baby who never got to see the light of day. He needed closure.

A deep sadness washed over Kyra. And maybe, just maybe, closure was all Cole ever wanted. She poured the mediocre-tasting coffee down the sink. Tomorrow after she went down to city hall and filed the youth center’s accreditation paperwork, it would all be over. She could meet with the realtor, get the For Sale sign on the front lawn, and be out of town that same week

But what place was there for her to go? She didn’t have a job waiting for her in Chicago, no real friends. Most of the people in her social circle were those she met through networking for the firm. News of the scandal reached the local Chicago media last week, and not one person called to ask how she was doing. They wanted to distance themselves from her as much as possible so her mess couldn’t get on their fancy Italian leather shoes.

Kyra motioned her head in bitterness. “The more things change…”

She had to rebuild her life from scratch. Once again, she struggled with learning where to start.

***

City hall opened at nine sharp in the morning. After a quick trip to a public notary at the bank, Kyra walked into the city hall building and waited to go through security check. Once cleared, she carried her shoulder bag past the guards and went forward to the clerk’s office.

“I’m filing paperwork for the McCrea Youth Arts Center,” she informed the male clerk at the desk. He held up his index finger to signal for her to give him one minute. It was three before he looked up from the computer.

“Sorry. Had to enter something into the record system. Who’d you say you the file was from?”

“McCrea Youth Arts Center,” Kyra repeated. She set the stack of papers on the desk. “I’m the attorney who prepared it for them. I already sent the electronic file. This is the hard copy for your records. Everything’s signed and notarized.”

The clerk rubbed his eyes, slightly red from strain. “Did you go to Crestfield High?”

Kyra nodded, now used to being stopped and asked the same question over and over. “I’m Kyra Grayson. I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you.”

“Name’s Seth Rockne. I had history class with you senior year.”

“Hi, Seth. You’ll have to excuse my bad memory. That class was at first period, and I slept through it almost every day of the school year.”

Seth laughed. “You said you’re a lawyer? Wow, I didn’t see that coming.”

Kyra took the high road and made light of his unintentionally offensive remark. “Neither did I. Funny how the world works, isn’t it?”

“Sure is.” He stamped the documents and scribbled something at the top. “I’ll put this into the system. The youth center should receive a notification from the county in about a week.”

Kyra thanked him and turned to leave. She saw a red-haired woman standing behind her, dressed in a short-sleeved dress, also toting a stack of papers in her arms. “Hi, Kyra, I’m Amy Nestler. I also went to Crestfield. You mind hanging around for a few minutes after I file these registration papers? I’d love to chat with you.”

“I’ll be outside in the hallway.” Kyra walked out of the clerk’s office and waited by the door, where she tried to search her mind for any memories of the woman named Amy. A very vague image formed in her head of a teen version of her, decked out in black leather, dark lipstick, and several tattoos. Her hair was another color at the time. It was very dark brown or black, as Kyra recalled. Was the conservatively dressed woman inside the clerk’s office the same Amy?

The woman came out in the hallway, and Kyra got the answer to her unspoken question. She caught a glimpse of ink on Amy’s right arm when Amy lifted it to wave to her.

“I love it when I see people from my old high school,” the woman said. “I thought when my family moved to Lubbock in my junior year, I’d never see anyone from Misty Mesa again, but here I am.”

“It has been a long time, hasn’t it? Didn’t you used to have black hair?”

Amy nodded. “I had to nix the dye. The chemicals were frying my hair. Besides, tatted-up arms, raven locks, and goth lipstick don’t make the greatest impressions on a small-town jury when you present a case in court. I figured if I had to part with one of my signature looks, it’d be the hair. So I’m sweet little Amy Carrot Top.” Amy mimicked the accent of a southern belle. “With a heart and flames tattoo across my shoulders.”

Kyra smiled. “You’ve got a strong personality. The courtrooms need more women like you.”

“And you. I heard you tell Seth you were an attorney. You and I didn’t run with the same crowd in school, but from a distance, I could tell you were pretty feisty.”

Kyra grinned. “Thanks, but I was, you know,
that
girl.”

Amy shook her head in bewilderment. Then she patted the front portion of her coif, coiled and pinned in a World War II-esque victory roll. “What do you mean?” The two of them began walking out of city hall.

“I used to flit from party to party, especially during my senior year. It’s a miracle I retained any grades.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself. Who wasn’t trying to party in their senior year? You came out alright, Attorney Grayson.” Amy’s green eyes twinkled with good humor in the morning sunlight. “Wait a second, I’ve been in town for eight months. How come I haven’t seen you until today?”

“I’ve been in town for a week.” Kyra told her the purpose for her brief visit. “I’m leaving for Chicago in a couple days.”

“Chicago. What have I heard about Chicago recently?” Amy tapped her chin with a painted black nail. “Oh, I know. I read an article online about a partner in a corporate firm there who got busted for tax fraud. Even his associates didn’t know. Can you believe it?”

“I can.” Kyra looked at the gray concrete steps of city hall. “I was one of those associates.”

Amy winced. “That sucks, Kyra. Sorry to hear that.”

“Tell me about it. I was here in town when the firm called to tell me I got the ax. Please don’t say anything. I’m still dealing with the rumor mill from my teen years. I don’t need Misty Mesa to pin another scarlet letter on me.”

“You got my confidentiality. Seriously, though, I know how it feels to be the little scapegoat.” Amy patted her shoulder. “The same thing happened to me at my first law gig in Amarillo. The boss got caught with a stripper.”

“Sleazy, but not exactly a crime.”

“It was a family law firm,” Amy finished.

“Yikes.” Kyra cringed.

“Yeah, the firm lost its credibility along with a lot of clientele. The partners figured since my department worked so closely with his, I should be the one to take a walk first. That’s life, though. What can you do?”

“I wish I had your attitude. You seem to be doing well despite the fact.”

“It took me a while to get it together, but once I did, I came back to Misty Mesa. It’s a shame how these local law offices try to pull one over on people, but the level of legal drama here is nothing compared to the gorefest in larger towns. I’m starting my own practice to help clean this place up. I just filed the papers this morning.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks. Hey, if you’re interested, we’re looking for another partner. One of ours took a job on the East Coast. It’s a small practice, but I could use an attorney with knowledge of corporate law.”

Kyra didn’t know what to say. She mumbled a thank you. “I’m honored you’d ask me, but I don’t think I can live in Misty Mesa anymore. I’ve been away for so long I’ve gotten used to calling Chicago my home.”

“Understandable. Just let me know if you change your mind. The position will be open for a little bit.” Amy handed her a business card. “It’s time for me to scoot. I’m meeting with a contractor to see if we want the walls of the office painted eggshell or ecru.” She scrunched her face into a scowl. “It’s supposed to be relaxing, but I think red and black are relaxing.”

Kyra laughed. “Great talking to you.” She shook Amy’s hand.

“Don’t forget the offer’s open.”

Kyra began walking down the steps to the sidewalk when her cell phone rang in her purse. She pulled it out and saw the local number. Cole was calling. Her heart sped as she answered. “Cole, I just came out of the clerk’s office. Everything’s taken care of. I don’t want to talk at this moment.”

“Then you can listen. I’m coming around the corner of city hall now.”

“What?” Kyra lowered her phone from her ear when she saw him come into view. He walked up the steps of city hall to join her. “Cole, what are you doing here?”

“Mike called the center and got Daisy upset. He told her he was searching for my land deed inside the records office. He said if my parents intended the land for the youth center to be used for the town’s commercial development, then he would get the mayor to start a lawsuit.” Lines formed around Cole’s eyes. “Kyra, Mike’s brought some money into Misty Mesa. He has the mayor’s ear. It’s not impossible for the mayor to grant his request.”

Kyra saw the worry on his face. She shook her head. “Mike was lying to Daisy. While I filled out the accreditation papers, I took a look at the deed through the county’s online records. Everything’s legit. The deed specifically grants the land to you, not the town.”

Some of the lines on his face disappeared. “I’ll let Daisy know everything’s alright. I’m glad you were still at city hall when I called.”

The tall glass doors to the building opened and Mike strode out. He took hard, deliberate steps as he yammered into his cell phone. He swung his head when he saw Kyra and Cole standing on the steps. Mike shoved his phone in his pocket. “I guess Daisy delivered my message.”

Cole clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “You should be ashamed of yourself, scaring Daisy, an old woman.”

“It wasn’t a scare tactic. I meant every word about combing over the land deed. The property the youth center’s standing on should belong to the town.”

“Knock it off, Mike,” said Kyra. “We know you’re lying. I saw the deed. The land is in Cole’s name, and he’s using it for the town’s benefit. You can read all about the youth center’s accreditation in the computer system. Just ask the clerk for the file number.”

Mike took an abrupt and menacing step closer to her. Cole got between him and Kyra. Mike put his hand on Cole and gave him a shove. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” His maneuver attracted the attention of a police officer standing at the bottom of the steps. The officer put down his coffee and turned his focus towards him.