Games of the Heart (28 page)

Oh boy, definitely rethinking my decision.

Still, I’d had it, I’d gone with it and there I was.

“That okay with you, Rees?” I asked, she tore her eyes from Fin and looked at me.

“Uh…sure,” she replied softly.

“Great,” I said, flicked the reins to Fin who caught them easily and swung my leg around forward. I pulled my other foot out of the stirrup, twisted at the last second and, using the pommel to control my fall, I expertly slid down Moonshine’s side.

Fin instantly moved in but I caught his forearm.

He looked down at me and I got close, tipping my head back and keeping his gaze captive.

“Precious cargo, Fin,” I whispered very quietly.

“I know,” he whispered back the same and my fingers tensed around his forearm.

“I know you know, honey,” I kept up with the whispering. “And a good thing to do is let her know you know it too.”

He held my eyes, his flaring with something I liked and it made my stomach do a little flip.

I’d seen that before a lot over the years but I was stunned to see it so early from Fin.

Darrin’s eyes flared like that when he looked at Rhonda. Anytime he looked at her when she was being Rhonda and her quirks were showing. Darrin didn’t love his wife despite her idiosyncrasies. They were what drew him to her. My brother was a man who had a deep, protective instinct. So deep he had tons to spare. So he found himself a woman who needed him, a woman he could protect daily as well as love. A woman he could look after.

I didn’t think Rees was like Rhonda.

What I got from that flare in my nephew’s eyes was that he was like Darrin.

He liked Rees and he wouldn’t let any harm come to her but more, he was thrilled to be given the opportunity to demonstrate this.

I totally, completely loved my nephew. I knew this from the instant he was born. But I rejoiced in it then, looking into his eyes because it made me understand that Darrin wasn’t really dead since that part of him was alive in his son.

He nodded.

Instead of crying, I grinned.

Then I let him go and stepped away calling, “Give me forty-five minutes, an hour. Yeah?”

Fin was adjusting the stirrups for his extra height and he muttered, “Yeah.”

I looked up at Clarisse and saw her watching Fin like he was not Finley Holliday adjusting the stirrups on a saddle but a Hollywood movie star working out shirtless with weights.

When Fin was done, without delay, he put a boot into the stirrup, a hand to the saddlehorn in front of Rees and he swung up behind her like he did it every day of his life.

Clarisse visibly shivered and her lips parted.

That’s my boy,
I thought, grinning like a lunatic because I couldn’t stop.

Fin wrapped his arm around Clarisse and she bit her lip. I suppressed a giggle.

“Later, Aunt Dusty,” he said to me.

“Yeah…uh, later, Dusty,” Rees added.

“Later, guys,” I replied then heard Fin click his tongue against his teeth as he put his heels in my baby girl and she started walking.

I stayed where I was and watched Fin clear the barn. Then I stayed where I was and held my breath as Fin leaned his chest slightly into Rees’s back forcing her forward, his arm got tight and his heels dug in.

Then I watched as they galloped through the fallow field.

Only then did I turn to the house.

* * * * *

“You good?” Clarisse heard Finley Holliday’s deep voice ask in her ear as she felt his warm chest pressed against her back, his arm tight around her belly.

“Unh-hunh,” she answered.

“Good,” he muttered and she felt that
in
her belly.

They clomped through the half-frozen dirt of his fields, not fast, not slow, Fin holding her tight.

That day started with her opening her eyes excited about her party, her friends coming over, presents and knowing Fin promised to “stop by”.

It became garbage when her Mom told her she “forgot”, she was sorry and she couldn’t help it but she would “make it up to her”.

The weird part was that, for once, her Mom actually sounded sorry. Really sorry.

But Clarisse didn’t care. Like usual, her Mom had ruined everything.

Then cooler than she ever thought she’d be cool Dusty Holliday rode right up to their back deck
on a horse.
A beautiful horse. Dusty’s gorgeous hair down. Her clothes all western cowgirl awesome.

And now she was riding on Dusty’s horse over Fin Holliday’s land tucked warm and tight and safe against the best looking boy in school.

And as they did, she didn’t care about the decorations, the party, the cake, her friends. She was glad it was going to happen and it was cool Dusty was helping out and she looked forward to shopping and baking a cake with her.

But nothing could make that day any better.

Riding with Fin holding her close, it wasn’t even nine o’clock in the morning and it was already the best day
of her life.

* * * * *

“Look up and to the left, honey,” Dusty muttered distractedly, Clarisse did what she was asked and felt the light, tingly feeling of the mascara wand Dusty was using on her lashes.

Clarisse was wrong. Although riding Dusty’s pretty horse Moonshine with Fin was the highlight of her day (so far), spending the rest of it with Dusty made it so that day wasn’t just the best day in her life but the best day
ever.

She and Fin were out on his land for a long time. Long enough for her cheeks to get really cold but she didn’t care.

They didn’t talk much and she cared about that.

She didn’t know why she could text him easily but not talk to him, not even when he called. He did most of the talking when she sat with him at lunch or when they were on the phone. And he didn’t have much to say so even though she felt all squishy inside after these times were over, she also felt stupid because she barely spoke. That was one of the reasons why she rarely got the guts to go sit with him and his crew at lunch. When she pulled up the courage to approach, he always smiled at her and scooted immediately so she’d have a seat but still, she felt stupid because she sat there not saying anything.

Most of the time he came and sat with her but only after he’d eaten. When he did, her girls got all giggly. It was embarrassing. So she thought it was good that he came after he ate and there wasn’t much time for her girls to act like dorks and mortify her.

Although they didn’t talk much, from Fin, she knew a lot about his Aunt Dusty. She also knew a lot about his Aunt Debbie who sounded like a screaming bitch. And last, she knew he hoped his Aunt Dusty would sort his Aunt Debbie out, not to mention his Mom (Clarisse felt bad but she couldn’t help but think his Mom sounded kind of lame). He didn’t say a lot about this but she knew it. She also knew he was super happy when Clarisse’s Dad stepped in that same night Dusty came home. She knew this because he texted her after her Dad phoned him and told her so. Though he didn’t say, “I’m super happy.” He said, “Killer! Your Dad just called and he’s already shoveling shit back at ADeb.”

Clarisse wasn’t surprised. She already knew her Dad would look after Dusty and looking after Dusty meant looking after the things Dusty loved.

After Fin brought her back to the farmhouse, he’d got off the horse then he
put his hands to her waist and helped her down.

She thought she’d have a heart attack but he just set her on her feet and muttered, “Go on in, Rees. I gotta take Moonshine back to the barn.”

“’Kay, Fin. Thanks for the ride,” she’d replied.

He’d looked at her funny in a way she didn’t understand then he kept muttering to say, “No problem.”

Then he walked the horse away.

Even though that was weird, it couldn’t take away her happy glow.

Dusty must have been waiting for them to come back because she met her in the kitchen and off they went shopping.

At first, this made her tense. She’d told her Mom exactly what she wanted for her party. Her Mom wouldn’t care. She’d just grab whatever, get the right colors but not the right stuff and go. But Dusty was artistic and she was worried Dusty would think Clarisse’s vision was lame.

But when they were at the party store and she said quietly and hesitantly that she wanted purple, silver and black, Dusty had decreed, “That…is…
inspired.
We can
so
do that!”

Then they
so
did it and they
so
did it because Dusty went totally crazy. She bought all sorts of stuff including big bouquets of
 
balloons and trays to put out food and all this glittery, foil wire stuff they could “fashion into a centerpiece” (Dusty’s words).

Luckily they had a craft store down the strip mall from the party store so they went there too. Dusty spent a
total
fortune on cake decorating stuff, murmuring, “I have all this at home. Should have thought to bring it.” Then announced, “I have an idea for the cake that…will…
rock!
What do you think of…?” then she went on to describe a total kickass idea for a super kickass cake that Clarisse
adored.
Then they went to the store to get the stuff for the cake.

So they brought all the stuff back to Clarisse’s house and made it
together
intermingling cake baking and cake cooling with decorating the house.

No showed with all the food while they were decorating. He hung around and was a total dork but luckily he thought Dusty was a hot babe, “even for an old chick,” (he’d told Clarisse that last part after Dad dropped them off the night they met her). And he’d do anything for a hot babe no matter how old she was, apparently. So he put away the food they’d be fixing later and set out the snack food exactly like Dusty told him to do.

In the end, the cake looked fantastic. The decorations were better not only than any party Clarisse had had, but any party Clarisse had ever been to. And now they were up in Clarisse’s room because, shyly, she’d asked Dusty (whose makeup always looked
the bomb
) if she would help Clarisse with hers and she’d said yes
right away!

“So,” Dusty drew it out, still stroking Clarisse’s lashes with the mascara wand, “Finley’s cute, isn’t he?”

Clarisse jerked and blinked.

Dusty giggled her musical giggle and Clarisse looked at her to see she was pushing the wand into the tube and twisting it closed.

And she did this muttering through her giggles, “The beautiful girl thinks my boy is cute.”

It was weird but
way
nice that Dusty thought
she
was beautiful when Dusty was the most beautiful real-life person she’d ever seen.

Dusty stopped twisting the mascara tube and looked her right in the eye.

“He likes you,” she announced. Yes, she announced it
straight out!
“Like, a lot. Are you two tight?”

“Uh…” Clarisse didn’t know what to say because she didn’t know if they were.

Sure, Fin texted her a lot, she always texted him back and he phoned her daily. They also spent time at lunch, him with her posse, her with his crew daily too.

Was that tight?

She watched Dusty’s arched brows draw together before she asked, “You aren’t?”

Clarisse stared at her.

Then she whispered, “He likes me?”

Dusty’s head jerked and she replied, “Uh…yeah, honey.”

Ohmigod!

Well, she would know. Wouldn’t she?

“You’re sure?” Clarisse asked softly and Dusty’s head tipped.

Then she did something funny.

First, her face got soft. Then her pretty, dark brown eyes moved over Clarisse’s face. Then she got up from the roller seat they rolled in from Dad’s office so Dusty could sit next to her and do her makeup but she did this bent forward. She wrapped her hand gently around Clarisse’s jaw and turned her head to the mirror.

Clarisse stared in the mirror.

Her makeup had never looked that good,
ever.

“What do you see?” Dusty asked and Clarisse’s eyes went from Dusty’s awesome makeup job to Dusty who was leaned over, her jaw close to the top side of Clarisse’s head, her eyes looking at Clarisse in the mirror.

“You do great makeup,” Clarisse answered.

Dusty smiled at Clarisse in the mirror then she took her hand from Clarisse’s face and put it on her shoulder.
 
“Look closely, honey,” she whispered and Clarisse looked from Dusty to herself.

And that was what she saw. The same thing she always saw. Clarisse.

“What do you see?” Dusty repeated.

“Me,” Clarisse answered softly, worried that answer wasn’t right.

Dusty smiled at her in the mirror.

Then she said, “Fin sees something else.”

Clarisse felt her heart trip over itself.

“What?” she breathed.

“Beauty. Vulnerability. Delicacy.”

Clarisse was confused so repeated, “What?”

“My nephew is his father’s son. And his father was drawn to things he could look after. The land. The equipment. The family legacy. His wife. The family he made.”