times in my bathrobe. Never before had my mother stopped me. I pulled away, and she moved to stand in front of the door. “Go put clothes on, honey. Simon is out there.”
“What’s he doing here?” I didn’t want to see him, not looking like a crash test dummy, but with the same breath, I couldn’t wait.
“He’s helping out with the horses. It’s been a lot for your dad these days.”
“Oh.” I started up the stairs, but turned to face her. “Okay. I get it. Dad needs help, but why Simon, Mom? Of all people. Aren’t there any kids in town itching to make some ice cream money or Friday night date cash who can shovel a stall?”
“Your dad always liked Simon, and since his…accident, people look at him differently, but not your dad. Simon respects him, and he knew your daddy needed some help, so he offered.”
I smiled in spite of myself. Not that I needed more, but this highlighted one of the reasons I loved Simon. He was that guy. And I wanted--no, needed--to see him.
After pulling on a pair of jeans still hanging in my closet from years ago and my favorite old boots, I checked the mirror, then headed outside. Kieran and Dad were behind the gate atop a horse with long legs and a twitchy head. I jogged the rest of the way.
“Dad, he’s never been on a horse before.” The warning escaped my lips before I could consider my dad’s feelings.
He tightened his hold on Kieran as though I planned to pull him down. “Don’t worry, Dani. I’ve been doing this since you were a very little girl. I’m gonna take this big boy for a ride, and we’re going to get to know each other. Were you planning to deny me that?”
I chuckled. “Guilt. Well played.”
He grinned down at me, secured Kieran once more, then gave me a wink. Dorothy was right. There really was no place like home.
“You wait here with Simon. We’ll be just fine.”
I nodded and stood at the gate while Simon closed it behind my father as he took my son out to the paths he’d carved in the woods.
Leaning against the fence, I pretended to watch the tree line, but never lost sight of Simon in my peripheral vision.
“Does it hurt?” He reached out to run his finger next to my black eye. When I flinched away, he dropped his hand to his side.
“It could have been worse.” In all honesty, I didn’t even remember the pain of that particular punch.
“Did he do this to you?” His whisper didn’t hide the hatred behind the words.
I sighed, not expecting him to understand, but… “I did it to myself, kind of. You know?”
“That’s really how you look at it?” His voice went hard, judgmental.
I lifted my chin to meet his gaze. “And I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” Not with him. Not ever.
He nodded. “Your boy has your chin and your lips.”
I grabbed on to the fence rail for support. A moment of panic seized my heart, and I imagined it stopping cold.
Then he grinned, and the potency of it shifted my panic to desire. “He must get all those good looks from you.”
If only he knew. I should have told him right then. “Oh, definitely.” My white-knuckled grip relaxed. He’d always been so easy to be around and nice to look at. Even nicer now . He’d let his hair grow long--Brad-Pitt- Legends-of-the-Fall long--and he had it pulled back at the top. His eyes were a deep amber color that God only blessed to sunsets, whiskey, and Simon. Jocelyn, the hellish born twin, was the younger version of their mother--beautiful and perfect, honey brown hair with sparkling blue eyes--but Simon must have been one hundred percent his father. Seeing his smile in person rather than in my memory let me forget the horror of my life, for a moment. He stood close enough to touch, and I curled my fingers into my fist to keep from reaching out.
“How long are you staying this time?”
My heart began a mambo in my chest at the almost hopeful tone of his voice. Maybe I could wait a few days, spend some time preparing him for the big
“What’s he doing here?” I didn’t want to see him, not looking like a crash test dummy, but with the same breath, I couldn’t wait.
“He’s helping out with the horses. It’s been a lot for your dad these days.”
“Oh.” I started up the stairs, but turned to face her. “Okay. I get it. Dad needs help, but why Simon, Mom? Of all people. Aren’t there any kids in town itching to make some ice cream money or Friday night date cash who can shovel a stall?”
“Your dad always liked Simon, and since his…accident, people look at him differently, but not your dad. Simon respects him, and he knew your daddy needed some help, so he offered.”
I smiled in spite of myself. Not that I needed more, but this highlighted one of the reasons I loved Simon. He was that guy. And I wanted--no, needed--to see him.
After pulling on a pair of jeans still hanging in my closet from years ago and my favorite old boots, I checked the mirror, then headed outside. Kieran and Dad were behind the gate atop a horse with long legs and a twitchy head. I jogged the rest of the way.
“Dad, he’s never been on a horse before.” The warning escaped my lips before I could consider my dad’s feelings.
He tightened his hold on Kieran as though I planned to pull him down. “Don’t worry, Dani. I’ve been doing this since you were a very little girl. I’m gonna take this big boy for a ride, and we’re going to get to know each other. Were you planning to deny me that?”
I chuckled. “Guilt. Well played.”
He grinned down at me, secured Kieran once more, then gave me a wink. Dorothy was right. There really was no place like home.
“You wait here with Simon. We’ll be just fine.”
I nodded and stood at the gate while Simon closed it behind my father as he took my son out to the paths he’d carved in the woods.
Leaning against the fence, I pretended to watch the tree line, but never lost sight of Simon in my peripheral vision.
“Does it hurt?” He reached out to run his finger next to my black eye. When I flinched away, he dropped his hand to his side.
“It could have been worse.” In all honesty, I didn’t even remember the pain of that particular punch.
“Did he do this to you?” His whisper didn’t hide the hatred behind the words.
I sighed, not expecting him to understand, but… “I did it to myself, kind of. You know?”
“That’s really how you look at it?” His voice went hard, judgmental.
I lifted my chin to meet his gaze. “And I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” Not with him. Not ever.
He nodded. “Your boy has your chin and your lips.”
I grabbed on to the fence rail for support. A moment of panic seized my heart, and I imagined it stopping cold.
Then he grinned, and the potency of it shifted my panic to desire. “He must get all those good looks from you.”
If only he knew. I should have told him right then. “Oh, definitely.” My white-knuckled grip relaxed. He’d always been so easy to be around and nice to look at. Even nicer now . He’d let his hair grow long--Brad-Pitt- Legends-of-the-Fall long--and he had it pulled back at the top. His eyes were a deep amber color that God only blessed to sunsets, whiskey, and Simon. Jocelyn, the hellish born twin, was the younger version of their mother--beautiful and perfect, honey brown hair with sparkling blue eyes--but Simon must have been one hundred percent his father. Seeing his smile in person rather than in my memory let me forget the horror of my life, for a moment. He stood close enough to touch, and I curled my fingers into my fist to keep from reaching out.
“How long are you staying this time?”
My heart began a mambo in my chest at the almost hopeful tone of his voice. Maybe I could wait a few days, spend some time preparing him for the big
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