The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga) (40 page)

BOOK: The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga)
13.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“What was his name?” Max asked.

“Horse or cowboy?” Chandler asked with a smile.

“Horse.”

“Cherokee.”

“Wow,” he said in awe.

“How big was be?” Little Chase inquired.

“About sixteen hands high,” Chandler revealed.  “And he looked even bigger.  He was imposing, towering like a mountain.”  He
spun the tale easily, his audience enraptured with each kid-friendly twist-and-turn in the tale of marauders, lost gold, and love.  Gradually everyone else finished with their tasks and joined in, smiling at the boys’ excitement.  “They never did find the gold,” he concluded, “but Cherokee lived to the ripe old age of thirty, and spent many happy years with the cowboy and his beautiful wife.”  Both boys were wide-eyed with excitement and unasked questions.

“Uncle Chandler?” Max asked quietly.

“What is it, Junior?  Ask me anything.”

“How did he jump the horse over that cliff?”

Chandler gave him a subtle wink.  “The cowboy had a special knack for watching the weather.  He could see an updraft of wind that he knew would carry him from one ledge to the next.  Don’t you ever try that, though.  Horses can lose their magic if we expect them to use it too often.”

“Could we have another story?” Little Chase asked.  “Please?”  Chandler looked up at CJ, saw the pride reflected back in his eyes.

“Dinnertime, boys,” his brother said.  “And you’ve got bed soon after.  Come on—give your uncle time to reload his brain.”  They jumped to their feet and hugged Chandler around the neck, both of them providing “thank yous” before tromping away in their small boots.  “You’re too skilled for words, bro,” CJ said.  “It’s sick.”

“Kids are easy,” Chandler
replied in a self-effacing manner.  “It’s the adults I need to work on.”

CJ helped him to his feet and they made their way toward the rest of the group.  “I kinda doubt that,” he countered, “but if anyone can give you tips on being friendly, it’s me.”

***

“I’m sorry I showed up here and ruined your weekend,” Liam apologized.  Taylor cleaned up the last remnants of lunch
and loaded the dishwasher.  Ever since Liam’s arrival, Alice had made herself scarce.  She wondered what that meant—or maybe it meant nothing at all.

“It’s fine,” she assured him yet again.  “I called Alison and let her know an emergency had come up, but not to worry about me.”

“Still,” Liam argued, “you must’ve been looking forward to spending that time with Chandler’s family.”

“I was,” sh
e replied, “but I also figured you wouldn’t show up without a good reason.”

“We didn’t have much of a chance to talk last night.”

“I know you didn’t fly here with your own two arms, but after such a long trip I figured you might need a good night’s rest.”

“I did,” he said with a brisk nod.  “I’d forgotten how quiet and pea
ceful it is out here.”

She gave him a guarded smile.  “I
t’s been good for me to be home again.”  He nodded and took a sip from his water before replying.

“How long have you and Chandler be
en together?” he asked without a trace of resentment.

She cleared her throat.  “About seven months, give or take a few weeks.  Mom made sure that I ran into him again. Or maybe it was fate—I was the first woman to step in his gallery without having designs
on him.  Famous last words, right?”  They laughed together uneasily.  “I love him, you know,” she continued in a soft voice.  “That was a part of my life I thought was lost forever.  Leave it to him to rediscover it.”

“I’m glad you’ve found happiness, T.
If anyone deserved it after what we went through, it’s you.”

“Do you really mean that?” she asked, meeting his eyes cautiously.

“Of course.”

An untenable silence fell between them then, an unexpected tension filling the air.  “Why are you here, Liam?” she
finally demanded.  “Why now?”

He pushed a hand through his hair and sighed.  “I wanted to make sure it was really and truly over between us before I moved on.  Even after the divorce, I felt we had some unfinished business.”  He laid a hand atop hers, a f
riendly rather than romantic gesture.  “I didn’t think I could be happy unless I was sure that you were, too.”

“Have you met someone else?”  She felt an unexpected stab of jealousy
, though she couldn’t be sure why; she was deliriously happy with Chandler, and knew that Liam deserved the same.

“There’s a woman who started at the hospital in late June.
  She’s about our age and has never been married.  No children.  I was working up the courage to ask her out when she beat me to the punch.”

“Did you go on a
date?”

“Just the once,” he admitted sheepishly.  “I told her that I wanted to spend more time with her, but that I had a much-needed vacation coming up.  She offered to wait for me.”

“How long of a vacation?”

“Four weeks, though I don’t plan to be here for
that long.  I just wanted to spend some time with you, and take the opportunity to visit the cemetery while I was here.”

A chill descended over her skin, raising bumps on the flesh.  “You can get to know Chandler while you’re here.”

“I’d like that,” he replied in an honest and forthright manner.  “I’d like to meet this man who’s put the smile back on your face, and the light back in your eyes.”

After lunch they looked through her awkward childhood in photos, albums she knew Alice had shown to him at least
ten times in the past.  He didn’t seem to mind, though, at one point telling her that, contrary to prior assertions, Riley resembled her far more than him in facial structure and smile.  Maybe he was just trying to be nice, or maybe his words were genuine.  Regardless of the intent, it felt good to empathize with him over their shared loss, and the good memories that still lingered like snow atop frozen ground.  The attraction between them may have been gone, but if she could retain him as a friend, maybe she could keep more of Riley in her heart.  Warning signs flashed in her brain: 
this is a dangerous game.
  She didn’t want platitudes, and Liam gave her none.  For that, she was eternally grateful.

***

“Do you wanna take the lead, bud?”  Mark glanced over the reins of his horse toward Chandler.  “I know you’re anxious to see her.”

“Sure,” he said with a broad smile.  “Why the hel…heck…not?”  He chastised himself, thinking as he took his place at the front of the pack that he needed to watch his language whe
n small ears were present.  His leg muscles were burning from the long ride, and his back and shoulders were all out of whack from sleeping on the ground—but when he saw Taylor, he was going to scoop her into his arms, even if he collapsed to the grass afterward.  No more campouts, he vowed foolishly to himself—two days without her just wasn’t worth it.

They descended into the valley, the buildings ahead carrying the tall shadows of early evening.  He quickly spotted the four women, and his niece and nephew
—but her conspicuous absence made his heart constrict.  Something must have gone wrong, he thought instinctively; there’s been an accident, or Alice has fallen ill, or maybe worse.  This wasn’t right, dammit; he should’ve made sure she’d arrived there before he left, even if it meant riding on the trail alone.  What kind of man didn’t check on the woman he loved before he planned to be gone for any length of time?  He’d failed her, and for what he knew wouldn’t be the first time.

He was the first to dismoun
t, ostensibly to help his nephews down.  He then made a beeline for his mother.  “Where is she?” he asked worriedly.

“Chandler,” she said, flattening her lips into a straight line.  “She said something came up but not to worry.  She regretted not being abl
e to come.”  He could read the worry in her eyes, the motherly concern that existed in spite of his adult status and famously-independent nature.  “Susan and I have been cooking for hours.  Come inside and eat something.”  She narrowed her eyes.  “And then lie down—I don’t like the way you’re favoring your back.”

He massaged along his spine and grimaced.  “I guess I was too tense when I rode,” he admitted, glancing around behind him.  Everyone was happy, none of them noticing the chill in the air.  What he
forgot, in the midst of his confusion, was that it was still the height of summer, and the wind was warm enough to wrap everyone but him in happiness.  In the depths of his mind, he saw the world spinning apart, his happiness evaporating like rain on hot pavement.  For his family he wore his best smile, but inside he crumbled to a thousand small pieces. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 26

The texts came in a torrent as his phone recalibrated its signal and whatever internal mechanism made it function.

“Sorry about this weekend
.  Had a surprise visitor.”

“Who?”

“Liam.  My ex-husband.  I know it’s weird.  We’ll talk soon.  May need to take Monday off.”

“I should come see you.”

“I’d like that.  You two could meet.”

Chandler wasn’t looking forward to that.  Liam was, by all account
s, a pretty nice guy, a faithful and loving husband who had stuck by his wife when they’d been confronted with the worst tragedy that could befall two parents.  He represented a stability that Chandler didn’t; he may have been wealthy and ambitious, but he’d rarely been rooted to one place for any period of time prior to opening the gallery.  He wanted to settle down, but what if it didn’t work?  What if this was yet another temporary respite for him?  Maybe Liam had come to collect her and take her away.  He and Taylor shared something that she and Chandler didn’t, and maybe never would.  It was painful to consider, and on the drive to her house Monday working he worked himself into an angry, irrational lather.  He pulled into the driveway, turned off the truck’s engine and stared at himself in the mirror.  He looked angry, resembling his brother being thrown in the practice arena.  That poor horse didn’t know who he was dealing with—CJ rode him the next day for ninety-two points.

He shuffled up the sidewalk
and knocked on the door.  Taylor answered it with expediency, as though she’d been attuned to his movements.  He couldn’t know that she’d been watching him through the living room window, chewing nervously on her lip.

“Chandler,” she said, her voice
breaking between syllables.  “Please, come in.”

He followed her into the living room, where a man rose to his feet.  Chandler took the stranger’s measure, having already seen him in pictures.  He was of slight build, standing not much taller than his
ex-wife.  He wore a clean white shirt and slacks, as though he’d just come home from a hard day at work and removed his jacket and tie before sitting down to rest.  He placed a cup and saucer atop the side table and extended a hand.

“William McCook,” he sa
id without preamble.  His eyes and expression were warm and friendly, and Chandler understood immediately why Taylor had fallen in love with him.  The man was completely lacking in pretense, and didn’t tower over her in that gawky way Chandler always had. No, when Liam wanted to look her right in the eye, he didn’t even have to lower his chin.

“Chandler Adams,” he answered roughly, clearing his throat over a firm handshake.

“It’s nice to finally put a face with the name,” Liam stated.  “Taylor has told me so much about you, and your paintings have been well-received at the hospital.”

“How are things at the hospital?” Chandler asked to fill time.

“I just received a promotion,” Liam replied, “though I’m not sure I earned it.”

“Don’t let him sway you,” came Ta
ylor’s voice from the doorway, sounding incredibly distant and otherworldly to Chandler’s ears.  “Few people do as much for that hospital as he has.”

“It’s my job,” he said modestly.  “Taylor tells me that you’re a pretty hard worker, too.  You run a galle
ry, you’ve been remodeling a house, and in your spare time you’re a cattleman.  When you do find the time to sleep?” he asked jokingly.

“It’s not always easy,” he admitted begrudgingly.  “Look…”

“Where are my manners?” Liam asked quickly.  “You came to speak with Taylor.  I’ll be in the kitchen topping off my coffee if anyone needs me.”

“Thank you,” Taylor said as he swept from the room.  Her eyes met Chandler’s.  “I’m sorry,” she repeated.  “This wasn’t my plan for the weekend at all.” 

“How long does he plan to be here?” Chandler asked gruffly.

“Long enough to get his head on straight.  We didn’t discuss specific dates.”

Chandler nodded, processing that information.  “Is this a mind game, Taylor?”

Her body stiffened, and
desire swept through him—he wanted to massage her figure until it went smooth again, until they were loose-limbed and sated.  “I had no idea he was coming, Chandler.  I was getting ready to bake a pie and take it to your mother.  I arrived home and he was here, waiting for me.  We shared a child—I wasn’t going to turn him out or brush him aside.  You and I share a bond because we went through my father’s death together.  Liam and I share a bond because Riley was our son. Surely you can understand that a connection like that is unbreakable.” 

BOOK: The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga)
13.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Wind of Southmore by Ariel Dodson
Burnout by Teresa Trent
Afterlands by Steven Heighton
No Return by Zachary Jernigan
A Madness So Discreet by Mindy McGinnis
Fat & Bones by Larissa Theule
Imogen by Jilly Cooper
Dead Reckoning by Kendig, Ronie
The Outcast by David Thompson