Read Kate Sherwood - Dark Horse 1.3 - Riding Through Fire Online
Authors: Kate Sherwood
Kate Sherwood - Dark Horse 1.3 - Riding Through Fire
Jeff can't keep himself from going over to the house.
That's not really true, though. He could stop, if he wanted to. He just really, really doesn't want to. He knows he's being stupid, or maybe something worse than that, but he also knows that he feels good when he's with Evan. Better than good. Better than he's felt in a long time.
There's something about the kid, something sweet and pure, something strong that Jeff can see even through all the flirting and teasing. Jeff's known him since he was in grade school, and that's what makes all of this so… questionable. But Evan is no longer the chubby little boy he was when Jeff first met him. He's a man. A young man, and the son of Jeff's best friend. Damn it! Jeff needs to get a grip on this. Evan's a flirt, and he's got a lot to flirt with, but that doesn't mean that Jeff has to respond, doesn't mean that Jeff has some sort of excuse for acting like a teenager with a damn crush. Nothing's happened, and nothing is going to happen, and if Jeff keeps letting himself get caught up in it all, he's just setting himself up for frustration.
He's already arranged this visit; Alex and Karen are expecting him, and he can't very well call and tell them that he's going to cancel because he's not sure he can trust himself around their sexy son. Their sexy twenty two year-old son. Their sexy twenty two year-old son who smiles at Jeff like they're the only ones who know a fantastic secret, who runs his hands along Jeff's back when they exchange their ritual hugs of greeting, stopping just short of Jeff's ass, but still close enough for the idea to be crystal clear. That son.
So Jeff'll go to dinner, and maybe Evan won't have come home from
school for the occasion, maybe he won't be there (although Jeff knows damn well that he will be, nudging knees and leaning over Jeff's shoulder and strutting around half-naked by the pool, his golden skin glowing in the sun). Jeff will make it through one more night of temptation, and then he'll just avoid the damn problem. Alex works in the city, and Karen spends a lot of time there too. There's no reason Jeff can't maintain his friendship with them over dinners in restaurants, or barbecues in Jeff's back yard, or any damn thing that doesn't involve their son and his laughing hazel eyes.
Jeff turns the wheel and eases the car onto the driveway. The house is set well back from the road, with some meadows and a little forested area to drive through before the residence is even visible, and he takes the time to collect himself. He's a grown damn man, not some hormonal teenager.
He can tell something's wrong as soon as he pulls up to the house. There are too many cars, including a police cruiser, and there's a small cluster of people loitering out on the porch, looking anxious and awkward. Whatever it is, it's big, and Jeff feels his stomach drop, and then tighten. He doesn't so much park as he just stops driving and turns the ignition off, and then he jerks out of the car, striding towards the house as his eyes fall on Alex's assistant. She's crying, but she sees him coming and steps towards him.
Who
is it? There's no answer that isn't a tragedy.
Sam takes a deep breath and grabs Jeff's arms at the elbows. He raises his hands and returns the grip; he's not sure if he's supporting her or if he's going to start shaking her if she doesn't talk soon. Her voice is ragged when she speaks. "Alex and Karen. They…they were driving back from the city. There was…." But she's crying too hard to finish. Jeff doesn't think he needs to hear any more, but he guesses he needs to be sure.
He looks over to the others on the porch, and his eyes meet those of
the police officer. "They're both…." Jeff can't quite say the word.
The cop nods carefully. "I'm sorry. They were airlifted to the city, but there were no vital signs at the scene, and the hospital was unable to resuscitate them."
There are more questions that need to be asked, details that need to be agonized over, but Jeff hasn't got time for that. "Evan? And Tat?" Jesus, Tatiana. Nine years old.
Jeff isn't sure about that, but he'll give the kids the option, in case they need him. He feels numb, like he's still not quite accepting what's happened, and maybe that's not a bad thing. Maybe he'll be able to stay calm, and give the kids what they need, if he can keep from thinking about his own loss, the death of his two best friends, the tragic waste of such vibrant lives.
He knocks gently on the front door and then pushes it open. All of the earlier anticipation he'd felt is gone, and he feels only a cold sense of dread. His pain will be nothing compared to theirs.
There's no sign of anyone, and Jeff isn't sure if he should intrude, isn't sure if he'll be wanted. But he doesn't like the thought of the kids being alone, and he's pretty sure Alex and Karen would have wanted him to at least offer to help. He thinks for a second, then heads for the kitchen. It's a huge room, the work area at one end, a big rustic table at the other, with a wood-burning fireplace on the wall. It's the heart of the home, the site of so many happy memories, and Jeff can imagine the kids seeking comfort there.
He taps his fingers against the door to the kitchen and goes through it, and he sees Evan sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace, his arms wrapped around Tat, rocking them both back and forth. Evan looks up, his face tear-stained and young, so young, and Jeff feels a flush of shame for
his earlier impure thoughts. But this isn't about him, it's about Evan and Tat; Jeff can beat himself up later. For now, he walks carefully towards them, and Evan's face crumbles a little and then a little more. Poor kid has just lost his parents, and he's been trying to keep it together, trying to stay strong for Tat. So Jeff
is
needed.
He eases down onto the floor next to them, and Tat notices him for the first time and flings herself at him, her arms wrapping tight around his neck as she sobs into his shoulder. Jeff bends one arm around her, hugs her back, and with the other he reaches out and grips Evan's shoulder. But the Kaminskis are not a reserved family, and Evan doesn't restrain himself, just edges in against the side of Jeff that isn't busy with Tat and wraps his own arms around Jeff, holding on like Jeff's a life buoy in a stormy sea.
"Tat, no joke, you need to get a move on! I'm not going to keep writing you notes for being late." Evan's voice is tight with annoyance, and Jeff realizes that he's hearing only the latest shots in what seems to be an ongoing battle.
"You're not my father, Evan! You're not the boss of me!" Tat slams her backpack down on the kitchen table, ignoring Jeff. "Tia, I'd like French toast for breakfast, please."
Evan slaps his newspaper down on the table. "You have two minutes to eat and be out the door, Tat. There's no time for French toast. Eat some cereal and take an apple for the car."
slave
!"
"Jesus, Tat, do you hear yourself? A slave? Nobody's a slave." Evan's voice shifts from angry to tired. "You're a spoiled little girl, that's all. Cut the drama and eat something, and let's get going."
Tat's crying now. "You're always on his side," she sobs, and she pulls away sharply when Tia tries to wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders. Tia seems unconcerned, and shrugs at Evan before returning to the dishes she'd been loading into the dishwasher.
Jeff's only been in the house for ten minutes, and he's already exhausted. How does Evan do it? But a quick look at the younger man makes it clear that Evan is tired, as well. When he speaks, he's trying to be calm. "Tat, you know the school rules on punctuality. You know what time school starts at. You know how long it takes to drive to school, and you know how long it takes to make French toast. If you want a big breakfast, get up earlier. For today, stop crying, eat the cereal, and let's get going." There's no response, although Tat's tears seem to be stopping.
"Jeff's driving in with us," Evan tries, his voice deliberately cheerful. "He's got some stuff to do at the office, with…." He stops abruptly, and Jeff winces. Probably not a good idea to tell Tat that Jeff's going in because he's the executor of their parents' estate, and he needs to spend the day going over some of the more complicated provisions with the company's lawyers. It's been four months since the accident, and sometimes Tat can talk about her parents fairly calmly, but Jeff's willing to bet that this isn't one of those times. "With the lawyers," Evan finishes. Then he looks at his watch, and at Tatiana's unused cereal bowl. Jeff has no idea where he gets the nerve, but he jumps in. "I doubt
she'll pass out if she misses breakfast one time. She could take the apple, and maybe something else for a snack?"
Evan doesn't seem to mind the intrusion into his parenting attempts. "Yeah?" He looks to Tia for confirmation, and apparently gets it. "Okay, good. Tat, let's go. Tia's got…damn, she's got a nice collection of fruit going there. Grab something to eat in the car." Evan doesn't wait to see if she's complying. "Jeff, do you want anything? I'm gonna take some of those grapes, I think."
Jeff's far from hungry, but he'll play along. "Yeah, the grapes look good. Or the kiwis, but they'd be a pain to eat on the go…." He's pretty sure Evan will pick up on that, and he's not disappointed.
"Oh, yeah, because you don't eat the skins! Crazy, right, Tat? Poor guy doesn't know that the skins are the best part!" Evan's enthusiasm is a little over the top, but Tatiana seems to be perking up. Evan picks up one of the furry fruits and takes a big bite, chewing the skin with the pulp, and Jeff overplays his disgust, knowing that Tat is watching. He suppresses his smile of victory when she slips off her chair and crosses to the fruit bowl, pulling a kiwi of her own out and taking a big bite.
Tat giggles. She's always been mercurial. "A yummy, delicious, fuzzy caterpillar!" She takes another bite, and Evan pops the rest of his kiwi into his mouth and picks up the entire fruit bowl. Tat laughs as she sees what her brother is doing. Her face is still wet from her tears, but apparently this episode, at least, is over.
"We need it all, Tia. I'll bring the bowl back tonight - don't be surprised if it's empty." Tia smiles after them as Evan leads the parade out the door and to the car. "Back seat, Tat," he admonishes when she reaches for the passenger side door. "Jeff's coming, remember?" Jeff is more than willing to surrender shotgun if it keeps Tat from another meltdown, but apparently this time they're going to get off easy. She shifts to the back
without protest, and Evan raises his eyebrows across the roof of the Cherokee; he seems as surprised as Jeff by the easy escape. Jeff has to admire the boy's tenacity, trying to enforce rules in the face of such emotional reactions. Jeff's pretty sure he would have given in and written the damn note for Tat to get into class late, and he absolutely wouldn't have argued for an age-based seating hierarchy in the car.
Jeff remembers the long conversations he and Evan had struggled through about Tat, and what would be best for her after the accident. There was extended family that could have taken her in, people who were in more stable situations than Evan, but none of them were close, and Tat had said she wanted to stay with her brother. Evan had been overwhelmed with trying to figure out his new responsibilities at the family company, not to mention dealing with his own grief, but he'd felt that his greatest obligation was to his sister, and he'd agreed to assume guardianship. And he'd vowed to Jeff that he'd do his best to continue the job the same way his parents had begun it. Jeff needs to find a time to tell the kid how impressed he is with the way Evan's risen to the challenges that he's faced.
And he should find a way to make sure that Evan's okay, he thinks as he shuts the passenger side door and Evan guides the car out towards the road. All this attention and worry about Tat shouldn't make anyone forget that Evan's had a huge loss, as well, and has turned his life practically upside down.
Riding Through Fire | Kate Sherwood