Brazing (Forged in Fire #2) (20 page)

“I’m fine,” I shouted and turned off the water. I grabbed a towel and walked out feeling like nothing could hurt me. I loved her with every pulse of blood in my veins.

She wouldn’t do that to me.

She wouldn’t.

What was that called?

Trust.

I trusted Tate, which might just be more important than these first sprigs of love.

“She’s fine, Bridger.”

“I know, West. She’s fine.”

“Just a few more weeks and you’ll see, she’ll be back to normal.”

He faltered in his pacing which he’d taken up when we got to the dorm.

“She’s normal now, West. You’re the one who’s not normal.”

He didn’t laugh. Usually, not only would West laugh, but he would value being not normal as a compliment. He made a habit of showing off his non-normalcy daily.

“I’ll never be normal, Bridger. But you will and she will.”

I kicked his chair and then dug around in my dresser for boxers and a pair of jeans.

“What is up with you? I swear, ever since we got back from home, you’ve been acting strange.”

He got out a stack of books as if to prove my point. “Acting strange? Really? We are in school Bridger. What, I’m not the screw-up brother anymore? You don’t know how to act unless you’re playing father figure to the dumbass sibling?”

That came from left field.

“You’re ridiculous. Don’t act like you’ve been a model student all this time.”

He turned around and got into my face. “Have you seen my grades? Or do you just assume I’m a dumbass?”

“You’re not stupid, West. You just cut up too much.”

“Maybe I’m done with cutting up. Maybe I realize how short life is, and I’m ready to grow up a little. Maybe you should too. Tate has never done anything to earn your mistrust.”

I squinted. “I know. I overreacted. I’m over it now. Don’t think your turncoat life all of the sudden gives you the right to get in my shit.”

He swiveled around on his heel and looked out the window. “I have to tell you something, Bubba.”

West hadn’t called me Bubba since we were in overalls at the creek. It wasn’t uncommon for siblings in the south to call their older brother Bubba. It had been a long time. We never called Stock the term of endearment, but West and Willa had always called me that until they got too big for their britches.

“West?”

“You’d better sit down.”

Chapter Twenty

Tate

“So is it serious? Why can’t we meet him? Where is he? If it’s serious, why isn’t he here to meet your mama?”

“Mom!” I dropped my face into my hands and let out an aggravated groan. My family had been here for all of two days and I was so ready for them to go home. “Everything’s new! We’re just figuring this out. I don’t want to freak him out.”

“But you met his family?” She sounded so pissed. No, not pissed. She was disappointed in me. And that was infinitely worse than anger. I wanted to crawl under my covers and never come out again.

I pressed my lips together and gave my brother and sister pleading looks. They both hid smiles and tried not to laugh.

Bastards.

Both of them.

“I met his family because of Granddaddy and Grams. Not because he invited me over there in some kind of formal introduction ceremony. Granddaddy is their preacher. That’s all.”

“That’s not what my mama told me.” My mother’s ice blue eyes cut away from me, and my heart clenched in agony. Why did she have to do this to me? Why now? Why on the same morning I’d woken up to half my hair on my pillow and my skin the lovely color of sickly yellow? Couldn’t she just let me avoid Bridger until my hair grew back, and my nails were strong enough to grow past my fingertips? My hair hadn’t fallen out last time and I had high hopes it wouldn’t this time. But my treatments were stronger this time around and it looked to be inevitable. “Grams told me how that boy is smitten over you. How Granddaddy had a talk with him about your virtue and a future with you. That boy is in love with you Tatum Mackenzie. It’s time he met your mother.”

“Colson, say something! Defend me!” I beseeched my brother, but he just shrugged.

Colson was a year and a half older than me and my sister, Macey, was a year and a half younger than me. We grew up thicker than thieves and practically drove my mother crazy. Mom probably hated having her kids so close together when we were young, but we had always loved it. Now more than ever.

“I want to meet him too, T. Dad’s not here. If this kid plans to date my little sister, then he needs some family approval.” Colson crossed his arms and dipped his chin- his best I-mean-business look.

Oh, brother.

“Mace? Anything?”

She smiled at me. “You should know I’m dying to see this guy! Is he as cute as I remember?”

“You remember him as a kid! I hope he looks at least a little bit different than what you remember!”

My mother pushed her phone across the Waffle House table and smiled sweetly at me. “Don’t cause me no more stress, Tatum. Get on the phone and get that boy to meet us for dinner.”

I glared at her. “You better think of a better place than Waffle House then. I will not let you meet him in one of these.” I gestured around at the dilapidated establishment and the sticky floor.

Uh, no.

In fact, I would never be setting foot in one of these again. Clearly, my visiting family didn’t think the chemo, radiation and cancer was doing a quick enough job of killing me.

My mom tipped her head back and laughed. I admired her pretty profile as she did so and melted a little bit. I had caused her a lot of stress in life.

I didn’t necessarily want to give into her greedy demands, but I wasn’t completely heartless either.

My mom straightened up, and her graying hair tumbled over her shoulders. Macey and I had inherited our red hair from her. The tumultuous curls as well. Now hers was painted mostly gray from a lifetime of poverty and a sick child. But she was still beautiful in my opinion and her sapphire eyes still bright and sharp.

I pulled out my own cellphone and waved it in defeat. “Alright, Mama. This is how much I love you. But only on one condition.”

“And what’s that, middle child?” My mama only called me that when I was difficult. It was her way of reminding me that I had put most of those gray hairs on her head.

“No speaking of my sickness. Or referencing it. Or reminding me about it. No asking if I’m okay or if I need something. No babying me. No watching me. No nothing. We’re going to pretend like I’m completely healthy, and there is no issue with my health.”

My mother’s intelligent eyes found me, and I struggled not to squirm. “You haven’t told him yet?” Her voice and tone were dangerously soft.

I tried to swallow around the lump in my throat. “I didn’t want him to feel obligated to date me.”

My mother sucked in a sharp breath and shook her head in disapproval. “What man in his right mind would feel
obligated
to date
you
?”

“Mama, I have cancer! Most sane men would run as fast as they could from my issues. I would be worried about him if he didn’t feel obligated!”

“You do not see yourself, baby girl. You never have.”

“Colson, would you date a girl with cancer?”

He cut his eyes away from me and I knew my answer. My mom must have picked up on it too because she punched him in the arm.

“You would get to know the woman first, Colson Lee. And then you would decide. You’re a better man than that. And you,” she pointed a stern finger at me, “are a beautiful young woman that has drive, purpose and depth. Don’t you tell me cancer would scare this boy away. If that’s true, then he doesn’t deserve you. Plain and simple.”

I smiled affectionately at this incredible woman that loved me so completely. “You’re right, Mama. And I will tell him. Just not tonight. In front of y’all. Let me do it in my own time.”

“He’s going to notice the bald spots,” Macey put in.

“Real helpful, Mace.” Cole threw a packet of sugar at her. Then his piercing gaze turned to me and he asked, “How bad is it? How are treatments going?”

Colson favored our father over mom’s side. He had light brown hair, same as dad. Both of the men in my family kept it short and easy to manage. He had dad’s naturally tanned complexion too, whereas my mama, Mace and I all had skin as white as milk. The only difference between my father and oldest brother was their build. Daddy was shorter but built for hard labor. He was thick and strong. And I remembered days of my childhood where he would pick me up and throw me in the air as if I weighed nothing. Cole was taller and lankier. He still had decent muscle build, but they stretched over long limbs and a tall torso.

“It’s fine,” I told him in answer to his question. “It’s almost over.”

My family fell silent as unspoken fears and concerns spun between us. I didn’t want to them to see how miserable I felt, but I feared I couldn’t hide it from them. They saw too much. They recognized all of this from before.

“You need to eat, baby girl. You’ve lost too much weight.” My mom’s quiet voice tugged at my chest. I knew she was right. I just couldn’t make myself force food down. “That boy’s not going to want you anymore if you’re all skin and bones.”

My mind flashed back to my dorm room and being wrapped in Bridger’s strong arms. No, I thought. He will want me until I’m a shriveled up pile of bones and even beyond that.

My mom tsked. “You shouldn’t be in school. I don’t know why I let you stay here.”

I exhaled a heavy sigh and reached for my phone again. I quickly pulled up Bridger’s number and pushed send. I waved it at her to show her what I’d done before I pulled it back to my ear.

“I know what you’re up to,” she scolded me. “You can change the subject, but I’m your mama. I’ll just bring it up again and again until I get my way.”

I rolled my eyes at her and then we both started giggling. She could be ridiculous sometimes, but I loved her more than anything.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” I greeted Bridger as soon as he picked up. “What are you doing?”

He hesitated for a few moments before saying, “Not much. Talking to West.”

“Oh, boy,” I teased. “Be careful with that one. He’s trouble.”

“Any other day of my life I would agree with that,” Bridger said softly. “But not today.”

He sounded sad or depressed or something. I hated the melancholy tone to his voice. It did horrible things to my heart and made me want to run from my family and straight into his arms.

“Is everything okay?” I asked in a quiet voice. I could barely hear my heart as I tensed to wait for his reply.

“Is everything okay with you?” he deflected.

I cleared my throat, not sure what to make of his answer. “I’m just hanging with my fam. We were talking about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” He perked up a little bit and I took that as a good sign. “And what were you talking about exactly?”

“Well, my mom, brother and sister would like to meet you. Are you free for supper tonight?”

“Your
brother
?”

“Yes. And my mother and sister, too.”

He let out a shaky laugh and then mumbled, “Well, that solves one mystery.”

“Hmm?” He was acting weird today. I didn’t know what to make of it.

He cleared his throat nervously. “I think I can swing dinner. What time and where?”

I told him to meet us at my favorite Mexican restaurant near campus at seven. He seemed surprised that I’d requested Mexican and so did my mom when I’d hung up the phone.

“You can’t eat pancakes? But you can eat a burrito?” Colson asked skeptically.

I looked down at the plate of pancakes and eggs that I’d shoved around my plate to make it look like I’d consumed something. My stomach roiled at the thought of putting something in it.

“I’m hoping my favorite restaurant will help me get something I eat to stay inside me. Not only is this place too delicious to puke up, it will burn like hell if it decides to make a reappearance. I’m giving my body a severe warning to keep this meal down.”

“You need to tell him, Tate,” Mama said softly. “This boy cares about you. He deserves to know.”

Guilt and loss rippled through me. I knew I’d lost Bridger and I hadn’t even told him yet.

Once I did though… It was only a matter of time. He had hang-ups on trust and loyalty and I’d been lying to him from the get go.

Sure, I might have restrained from cheating on him, but that was pretty easy to do seeing as I was head over heels for him.

I’d lied about other things. Like my health. And my future as a living, breathing human being.

I couldn’t even say anything to my mom. I just let her words hang over me. She was right. I had known that for a while… I just didn’t know where to even start.

“Do I really have bald spots?” I asked instead.

She gave me a sharp once over and then with an amused twinkle in her eyes said, “Only if you know where to look.”

My sister and she started laughing loudly while I took the opportunity to slink down in the booth and die.

Kill me now.

Colson winked at me which made me feel a little better, but not much. I had a strong feeling, Bridger and I would have to have this conversation soon. I highly doubted hair loss was another symptom of Celiacs.

Bridger beat us to the restaurant and I knew it pleased my mama that he wasn’t just on time, he was early.

He looked especially hot tonight in a navy blue oxford with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and gray dress pants. My heartbeat sped up in my chest and my stomach flipped at the sight of him waiting by the front door.

He gave a shy wave and I just wanted to lick him from head to toe.

See? I still had my appetite, it just wasn’t for food.

“Hey,” he said quietly as we approached.

I couldn’t suppress my happy smile. “Hey.” My mom moved next to me, so I started with the introductions. “Bridger, this is my mama, Karyn Halloway. My older brother, Colson and my little sister, Macey. Everybody, this is Bridger.”

He shook all their hands and gave them pleasant smiles. My heart soared at this polite, respecting version of him.

Not that I ever thought he would be rude to my family, or really anyone. But his grumpy, standoffish personality seemed to have disappeared for good. I couldn’t believe how happy that made me.

Of course, he still hurt over the deaths of his parents. And who could blame him? But he wore that pain well. And he was open about that. He could talk to me about how much it hurt and how much he missed them.

It had been the pain of his past relationships that had turned him bitter. But he seemed to be letting that go these days.

I could only hope it had something to do with me.

Bridger opened the door for us, and I led the way to the hostess stand. They took us to our table and set us up with drinks and menus before anyone spoke. We were squeezed into the booth, and I took the opportunity to lean my exhausted body against Bridger’s firm muscles. It felt so good to rest on him, to soak up his strength and comfort.

We made silly small talk while we picked out our meals and then ordered. I got my usual, chicken chimichanga and a Coke. Conversation continued through chips and salsa and then the main meal came out.

“So what are your plans for the future, Bridger?” I cringed at my mom’s eagerness to get deeper with Bridger.