by Mia Sheridan
I stuck around while everyone discussed what they had to offer the family when they came back from the hospital. Cora Levin was going to take the two older children in and Cheryl Skaggs had room for the parents and little MaryJane.
Standing there listening to everyone band together made my heart squeeze. These people, as destitute as they were, had always attempted to help their own if they knew they needed assistance of some kind. They were good people—good people who barely had a pot to piss in. And yet they were offering up anything they had to give.
"I have a little money in the bank," I said. "I'll go into town in the morning and buy the kids some clothes."
They all nodded. "Thanks, Tenleigh."
I looked over at Kyland and he was focused on me, only me. I couldn't think about him right now. I couldn't think anymore about the lie he'd told me. I didn't have the strength.
I turned around and walked back to my trailer. When I was a few hundred yards away, the emotion came full-force and I wanted to fall to my knees. I stumbled. The emotion came for all the pain and hardship these people had to endure, some their entire lives. It came for the family who had just lost every single possession they owned—the ones who would struggle to replace even a few of those items. It came for the way it hurt to be back here . . . and the way it felt so right at the same time. I was weary, so very weary. And yet a release felt just out of reach. I'd held it back for so long. I didn't know how to access it now.
I sat down on my front steps and put my head in my hands. No one could see me from here.
"Hey." I startled and looked to the side to see Kyland standing there with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
"Hey," I said quietly. I was sure I looked like a complete and utter mess. But Kyland looked pretty bad, too—soot on his face, his shirt torn and dirty. He looked kinda like a man who had just run into a burning trailer to save a little girl.
I scooted over on the step and tilted my head toward the space I'd just made. He looked briefly shocked, but then moved immediately toward me and sat down, our bodies close. I could feel his warmth. I remembered his warmth so well, the way it'd felt at my back in the middle of the night, the way it'd surrounded me.
I turned toward him and leaned back against the rickety handrail. "That was brave, what you did."
He shook his head. "Those people, they would have done it for me, too."
"Yeah," I said. "They would have."
He nodded, not taking his eyes from me. "All those years ago, sometimes, you know, a basket of rhubarb, or a couple tins of beans or something would show up on my front porch. I still don't know exactly who it was, but . . . I think, I think they probably knew I was lying about my mama still living with me. I think they were doing for me what they could. It kept me alive some months."
I was silent for a second, absorbing his words. "The rhubarb, that was Buster," I said quietly.
He nodded, sawing his teeth along his bottom lip in a way that left it plumped and reddened when he finally let it go. I blinked, tearing my eyes away, back up to his.
Who are you now, Kyland? I don't know you anymore and why does that hurt me so much?
"Is that why you gave them the idea of the lavender?" I asked.
His eyes widened. "Who told you about that?"
"Buster."
He nodded, his lips coming together. "I, yeah. I read about it and thought maybe I could give back. You know, to those who were interested in the idea. Really, it's nothing."
"Sounds like it's working out pretty well for several families."
A glint of pride came into his eyes. "Yeah."
"Ky?"
"Yeah?"
"It's something. It's a whole lot of something."
I heard him exhale beside me. We were quiet for a second before Kyland finally met my eyes again and said very softly, "I'm so sorry, Tenleigh."
I stilled. "For what?"
He ran his hand through his hair and looked up at the sky. "For treating you the way I did the other day and then at Al's." He shook his head. "You didn't deserve it. I just . . . God, Tenleigh, when you got out of here, I thought . . . I thought you'd finally escaped this place. To see you come back . . . and to see that you . . . well, it made me crazy. It made me . . . " he let out a laugh that sounded anything but amused, "crazy." He paused. "Crazy and mean. I'm sorry."
I studied him for a minute. "I know you wanted to get out of here, Kyland. I know better than anyone. I guess I can understand you being upset to see me do something you wouldn't have done if you had won that scholarship. But you lost the right to pass judgment on my choices." Are you going to tell me the truth now? Tell me why you lied to me? Explain to me why you broke my heart? Why you were able to send me away?
"I know. God, Tenleigh, I know." He rubbed his palms on his jean-clad thighs and released a large, shaky breath.
I looked up to the sky. "I'm sorry, too. I acted immature and crazy. I had taken a couple shots and . . . I've always been an angry drinker." I laughed softly, but then went serious. "I acted like my mama used to act."
"Oh, shit, Tenleigh." His voice hitched. "No. You didn't. It was the two of us. Me more than you. I was wrong. When I saw you there, working at Al's again after . . . I lost it."
I nodded sadly, running my hands along my thighs.
"Anyway," he said, "no one's talking about us. Everyone's talking about Gable Clancy and his—"
"Mail-order bride," I said along with him. "Yeah, I heard."
His lip quirked up in a small smile and my eyes lingered on his mouth before I looked away.
A small silence ensued and Kyland filled it. "Of course, Gable isn't sure if she was really trying to kill him or if the car got out of her control on account of her prosthetic leg."
A laugh bubbled up my throat. "What?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I work with him. I know more about mail-order brides with prosthetic legs than I ever wanted to know."
I looked over at his amused expression and intended to smile back, but instead, I felt a wave of nostalgia so large I thought I would drown in it. A tear escaped my eye and I swiped at it, looking down at my finger in surprise. I hadn't shed a tear in so long. Kyland looked at me, his expression suddenly raw and pained. I shook my head as if I could deny the singular emotion that was slamming into my chest in that moment: grief. Grief for the loss of him, although he was sitting right next to me. All these years, I had been so focused on the anger, in just surviving, moving forward, that I hadn't allowed myself to remember the sweetness. But, oh God, how I'd missed him. Despite my heartbreak, despite my anger, I'd missed him so desperately. Besides Marlo, he had been my everything.
He scooted closer, keeping eye contact, asking silently if I was okay with him moving toward me. I was. And I shouldn't be. I should tell him to move away. I should tell him I didn't even want to breathe the same air as him. But I didn't. I looked him in the eye and I didn't move away. Very, very slowly, he put his arms around me as if I was a skittish animal who might run at any moment. He pulled me into his broad chest. I sucked back a sob and clutched at his smoky T-shirt. He held me as I finally cried the tears I'd held at bay for so very, very long, and I let him.
We sat there for what seemed like forever, his strong arms around me, his heart beating steadily under my ear. After a little bit my tears dried and I tilted my head up and our eyes met. "Tenleigh," he whispered, his voice as smoky as the rest of him, filled with need.
There were so many things we needed to say to each other, so many things I wanted him to explain to me. So many emotions were swirling in the air around us, so many unanswered questions. But in that moment, it seemed like all that could wait. And so when his lips touched mine, I let out a sound of encouragement, and pressed myself into him. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe . . . probably. His tongue entered my mouth tentatively and he let out a groan that sounded half tortured and half blissful. I met his tongue with my own and reached up around his neck to weave my fingers into his short hair. He put his hands gen
tly on either side of my face and tilted my head. The kiss went deeper. Just like the fire we had watched earlier, my whole body felt alight with flames, my flesh burning with need. But fire destroyed. Fire left you devastated and singed beyond recognition. I pulled away, Kyland letting out a small sound of loss. I stared at him, his lips red and wet. He was gazing at me like a starving man looking at a buffet of delicacies. I blinked and looked to the side, trying to control my ragged breathing. I wanted him. Hadn't I always wanted him? Why did everything about us seem so simple and yet so complicated at the same time?
"Kyland, I . . ." I said softly.
"I know," he answered. And I believed that he did even if I didn't entirely.
"You should go home and shower. And I should . . . I have a big day tomorrow."
He was silent for a second and then he nodded. "What you're doing with the school, it's really, well, it's amazing."
"You know what I'm doing?"
He nodded. "I asked about it in town."
"Oh."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I better get going, let you go to sleep."
I nodded. "Okay."
He paused. "Okay."
He stood up. "Do you need anything before I go?"
I shook my head, remembering the time he'd come here unable to ask me to go back to his house to sleep in his bed. Was Kyland still lonely? Something told me he was. But I couldn't offer him anything now. I felt both too empty and too filled with a lingering ache. I had once wanted to give him everything, lay my life and my heart at his feet, but right now, I just couldn't.
"Okay, then, good night."
"Good night." He walked away from me and I watched him retreat. After a minute I stood up and went back inside. I tossed and turned for the rest of the night. Sleep was elusive, visions of Kyland and me as we once had been, skating through my mind, snippets of conversations filling my head, the memory of the feel of his rough hand moving across my skin invading my senses. I finally fell into fitful dreams, just as the first light of dawn appeared in the trailer windows.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Kyland
The sun streamed through my window, way too early. I hadn't been able to fall back to sleep after I'd gotten home, showered, and gone to bed—despite the fact that I was exhausted. The truth was I had barely slept a wink since Tenleigh had returned to town.
Tenleigh.
My heart thudded in my chest. I needed to tell her the truth. I'd been about to last night, but the timing had just seemed wrong. How were we going to be able to talk about anything sitting in front of her trailer in the dark? Or maybe I'd just been a coward. But I hoped, I had to hope that if I apologized, if she knew the truth, she'd find it in herself to forgive me.
Then again, how did you apologize for a lie when the lie itself was almost as cruel as if it had been the truth?
I brought my hand up to my head and raked my fingers through my hair.
Christ.
And there was the small matter of him—Jamie Kearney. Rage and jealousy flashed through my body, propelling me up and out of bed. I walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. All the time she was away I'd tortured myself with the knowledge that she was probably dating other men, maybe even falling in love with someone else. It made me feel insane with jealousy. I knew she had loved me, but I'd hurt her so desperately. Her love for me wouldn't be enough to stop her from moving on. And it shouldn't be—I had set her free. It was the choice I'd made—I had to live with it. And so I had, for almost four long years. I just had never expected her to return with Jamie Fucking Kearney of all people. I knew he'd rescued her that day on the road between here and Al's and I was grateful to him for that. But his father was a disgusting pig, and I had no idea what kind of character Jamie had. He could be a nice guy for all I knew. Still, when I'd seen him standing in the lot where Tenleigh's school would be, holding her in his arms, the only thing racing through my mind was all the remote places up in the mountains where a buried body would never, ever be found.
I turned on the stove and started to boil water so I could make some coffee. As I waited for the water to heat, my mind returned to the night before.
I had fucked up so badly since she'd come home. I hadn't been ready to face her, never in a million years imagined it'd be under these circumstances . . . here. I'd reacted like a crazy person, or like a complete asshole. She had no way to know that she'd upheaved all my plans. I needed to make this right.
When Tenleigh had let me hold her, comfort her, it'd felt so damn good. If she never forgave me, how would I handle it? The last four years had gone by in dismal misery. But seeing her looking the way she did, classy and sure of herself, it filled me with pride. She'd done exactly what I knew she could do. That same familiar grief and loneliness welled in my chest when I thought about who she used to be, who I used to be. Because as much as I was happy about the ways she'd changed, and as much as I accepted who I was now, back then, she'd been mine. Back then, she'd looked at me with trust and love in her eyes. Back then, she'd wanted me, despite all the ways I was lacking. Back then, she'd been willing to fight tooth and nail for me. Back then . . .
Shut up, Kyland. Now is now, and you have to deal with that.
I needed a shower. This was going to be a long day. I had to be at the mine at ten, but I wanted to stop by and see the library one last time before they tore it down. I figured it'd be today or tomorrow. When I'd driven by, it looked like the construction crew was moving closer to it. That damn library . . . after Tenleigh had left, I had gone and sat in it day after day, just to feel close to her. I had sat at the small table in the back and I'd suffered. And it was no less than I deserved.
**********
I stepped into the small building, empty now—save for the shelves that were still bolted to the wall. I stood there simply looking for several quiet minutes. What was I doing here, really? I inhaled the air, closing my eyes briefly as all the memories, both happy and sad, went through my mind. I heard a small click behind me and whirled around. Tenleigh was standing there, a surprised expression on her face.
"Hi," she breathed, coming in and shutting the door behind her.
"Hi," I said, my heart picking up in speed. She was wearing a pair of jeans and an SDSU T-shirt. Her hair was in a ponytail, a few pieces falling loose.
She was the most beautiful woman in the world. To me, she always had been. She always would be.
As I stood looking at her, I realized that something had shifted between us since last night. She still looked wary, but the look in her eyes was softer, too, and it gave me hope.
"I'm sorry," I said, taking a step toward her. "If I shouldn't be here, I'll—"
"No, it's fine. The crew isn't coming for an hour or so. I just," she bit her lip, glancing away from me for a quick moment, "I just wanted to spend a little time here before they tear it down."
I nodded. "I kind of had the same idea."
Our eyes held for several beats, the air thick with that energy Tenleigh and I always seemed to create whenever we were in the same room. She nodded, walking toward me.
"You got contacts," I said softly.
She looked surprised. "I did. How'd you know?"
I ran my hand through my hair. "You used to squint. It's how I knew when you were looking at me from across a room."
She smiled. "Hmm, I didn't know anyone ever noticed that."
When it came to you, I noticed everything. I fell halfway in love with you before we ever spoke a word.
"And your voice, I mean, your accent—it's back."
She laughed softly. "My sister said the same thing. Didn't take long for my body to remember I'm a Kentucky girl."
My Kentucky girl.
She took a deep breath and looked away, running her hand along the bookshelf. "This place saved me from a lot of loneliness." Her expression was wistful.
I sucked in a big breath of air. "Same here. After you left, I . . . came here a lot."
She looked a
t me, surprise filling her expression. She tilted her head. "You did?"
"Yeah, I did."
"Why?" she breathed.
"Because I missed you so much, I thought I'd die," I admitted.
Her eyes widened and she swallowed. "You did?"
"Yeah, I did." I paused. "Yeah I did," I repeated, allowing the memory of that anguish to assault me for a brief second.
She bit her lip, her brow creased in a small frown as she watched her finger trail along the shelf.
"Joey isn't mine, Tenleigh. I never even thought he was," I blurted out.
Her finger stilled. "I know."
I froze for a second and then I let out a long breath. "Shelly?"
"Yeah. She came by yesterday."
I brought my arms up and laced my hands behind my head. I couldn't say I was surprised. She'd demanded I tell Tenleigh. And I was going to . . . "I wanted to be the one to tell you myself. I just . . . I was trying to come up with the right time."
She brought her arms up and let them drop. "When is there a 'right time' to tell someone you shattered their heart with a cruel lie?" she asked.
"You wouldn't leave, Tenleigh. You were going to give up that scholarship and stay. I couldn't let you do that. I couldn't."
"There were other ways."
"Maybe. I couldn't think of any at the time. I couldn’t think of any way to guarantee you'd leave and never look back."
She snorted. "Well, you accomplished that, that's for sure." She looked away and then back to me. "Why couldn't you have come with me? Did you even want to? I mean, at the time . . . did you want me at all?" She looked like she was close to crying. I moved closer to her.
"I just couldn't. I wanted to, God I wanted to, but I couldn't."
"Why?" Her voice sounded breathy and filled with sadness.