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  I look up as I approach the lake and hear giggling. First, I spot the boys swinging into the lake. Then I spot Kimber a few feet away lying on a towel in the grass. She is staring at me but she looks away when my eyes meet hers. God is she beautiful. I change directions and walk with a purpose. This is the perfect opportunity to say what I need to. It’s time to grovel if I have to.

  Halfway around the lake my phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket and glance at the screen. My mom is calling again. I have ignored her last four calls over the past two days. She is becoming more and more insistent though. I stop pissed off and hit the answer button, “Mom, what is it?”

  “Jordan Rhodes, did I teach you nothing? That is no way to answer your phone.”

  I take a deep breath trying to qualm my nerves, “Sorry. I’m just busy Mom. Is this an emergency?”

  “Actually it is Jordan. I know Mr. Weller called you a few days ago. He really needs to talk to you.”

  My hand automatically runs through my hair as I tell her in annoyance, “I gathered that but can’t this wait?”

  Her voice takes on an urgent tone, “Jordan, it’s about Susan. I think you need to come home.”

  My heart stops at the mention of her name. What could he possibly need to say to me that warrants me to drive back home?

  “Can’t he just tell me over the phone?”

  She says simply, “No.”

  The seriousness in her tone and lack of explanation alert me that this might be something I need to hear. I make a decision, “Okay, I’ll be home in a few hours.”

  I push the end button before she can say anything else. When I look back up, Kimber is staring at me. Her expression is curious and sad. I can’t talk to her now, not when I have to go home. It might be best to leave things as they are. Maybe she’s better off. She deserves someone who can give her his full heart and love her fully. I continue walking past her, straight to the barn.

  When it’s finally time to leave, Joe catches my arm as I turn to my car, “Hey Jordan?”

  He is glaring at me. We haven’t seen each other all day except at lunch time when he didn’t say anything to me. When he has my attention, he states, “I heard there was a problem.”

  I shake my head, ”I’m not sure I follow you, a problem with what?”

  “Somthin’ happen with you and Kimber?”

  I shake my head adamantly.

  “Well I’ll tell you city boy.” He takes a step closer, “This is a small town and people talk. You get my meanin’?”

  I nod, understanding what he is trying to tell me. What happened between Kimber and I is probably public knowledge. I feel like such a dick. I hang my head. He pats me on the shoulder, “Those Maguire women are good girls. They’ve had hard lives though. You gotta be gentle with ‘em.”

  I walk away toward my car, knowing that I need to go home but I also need to make a decision about Kimber. I can’t go any further with her without telling her about Susan. Oh man Susan. I’ve been so broken up over Kimber, my reasons for being here were momentarily forgotten.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Kimber

  When Jordan left the bed after we had sex, I felt almost the lowest I’ve ever felt. He got up and left without answering my question as if he was done with me. I wanted nothing more than to fold myself up into a tiny ball and disappear. It didn’t mean anything to him. To me it meant so much. But instead of remaining where I’d be subjected to more rejection, I got up and called Derek to come and get me. He was still at the Duck so he came right away.

  The next day I called Heidi on the way to the ranch and told her a brief version of what happened. She was so pissed, she wanted to go to his motel and give him a piece of her mind. I talked her out of it, already knowing that he was at the ranch. I decided I would do everything possible to avoid him. I’m so angry with myself for falling for him, because that is really what happened. I realized it when I got home and cried myself to sleep. In the short span of time that Jordan Rhodes has been here, I’ve fallen for him. That is what makes this so much harder. I wanted last night to happen badly and I’m not sorry that we shared it. I’m just sorry that I’ve let myself be affected and have feelings for him.

  All day long I stayed away from the windows for fear of catching a glimpse of him. When lunch time rolled around, Mrs. Bruin asked with a huge smile, if I wanted to take the lunches out. She had some sort of glitch in her voice as if she knew about Jordan and I. If only she knew the real story. I declined, favoring more games with the boys instead. They seemed to want to give me a hard time too. All day long, they begged me to take them to the lake and finally Mrs. Bruin intervened taking their side, “Kimber, I think some fresh air will do you and the boys some good.”

  A deep sigh escapes me as I answer, “Yes, Ma’am.”

  The boys change into swimming trunks and jump around to no avail as I stall as much as I can. I’m terrified that we’ll run into Jordan out there. I’m liable to tell him off if I do see him with some choice words not appropriate for Michael and Martin’s ears. I grab the bag filled with towels from Mrs. Bruin’s waiting hand and trudge out the back door onto the porch. Michael pulls on my arm encouraging, “Kimber, come on, hurry up.”

  He quickly lets go and scuttles after his brother now halfway across the field. I hold my hand up shielding my eyes and squint across the expanse of brown grass toward the boys. It’s a straight shot to the lake, about a half-mile’s walk. The horse and cow pastures are sprawled out on either side. There is always a chance we’ll run into someone on the way but I pray it’s not Jordan, if we have to see anyone.

  Both boys look back at me when they enter the sparse cover of trees and Martin yells impatiently, “Come on Kimber.”

  “I’m comin’ boys. Hold your horses.”

  We finally come up to the lake and a light sheen of sweat is covering my skin. It’s a hot one today. Spring, almost summer time in Texas is scorching. I’ll be happy to have a small break in a few weeks from my classes. I’ll still spend it here at the ranch but I won’t have to find time to complete assignments. I climb out of my shorts and peel off my tank spreading a towel in the crisp grass. I lean back feeling the warmth against my skin.

  The lake spans a good quarter mile. Nestled next to it with a branch out over a cove is a tall white ash. Mr. Bruin fastened a swing to the branch years ago. Jenna and I used to come out while we were still in high school and swim on days like this laying lazily in the grass to soak up the sun’s rays and swimming in the lake. The boys are already climbing the makeshift ladder leading up to the swing.

  I call out to deaf ears, “Careful boys.”

  Michael makes it up first, grasps the knotted rope and flies through the air yelling. He lets go and splashes into the murky water below. Martin follows and I wince as he falls nearly on top of his brother. They swim to the bank and hurry up to me. Martin pleads, “Come swing with us Kimber.”

  I shake my head looking across the lake. Suddenly I’m self- conscious, afraid Jordan is near-by. I don’t spot anyone but I’m still leery. I tell him as his brother runs back to the tree, “In a little while, maybe I’ll swing with you.”

  This seems to satisfy him because he runs to the tree calling, “No fair Michael. I was tryin’ ta get Kimber ta come. You promised ta wait.”

  Michael is soaring through the air before his brother is half way up. I lean back further and watch across the lake as a figure comes into focus. He’s walking this way and I already know just from the broad shape and beautifully sculpted bare chest who it is. I was up close and personal with that chest last night. He comes closer to the other side of the lake but he’s looking down. Beautiful is the first word that comes to mind when I look across the lake at him. The sweat glistens off his chest when the sun hits it just right. I want to touch that chest and taste the saltiness. He glances up as if he can hear my thoughts. A pink blush spreads across my cheeks and I look away embarrassed that he saw me gawking. What is Jordan Rhodes doing to me? S
adness spreads through my middle, it seemed I was a conquest that he conquered, now he wants nothing to do with me. He stops and stares at me as if in contemplation. When he starts walking again, he angles as if he’s going to walk around the lake instead of pass it by. My heart speeds up that he might be headed this way. I brace myself and conjure up a speech that will make my point to him.

  Suddenly he stops and looks down. He starts talking on his phone. He looks ahead and the expression on his face turns from bothered to concerned. When he hangs up he glances over at me looking ashamed. He starts walking again, right past us to the barn.

  What the hell? I was convinced he was on his way over here. Now he’s done it again. For the third time his actions speak volumes louder than his words. I’m done with Jordan Rhodes. You can only burn me so many times before I’m finished with you. An involuntary ache finds a place in my chest. I get up and start to climb the ladder up the tree. Both boys are just climbing up the bank. They stand up cheering, “Yay, Kimber’s gonna jump!”

  The rest of the day I turn my emotions off. Jordan Rhodes isn’t getting another thought from me.

  When I got home Momma was the usual, complaining and whining about how horrible her life is. I couldn’t care though. I was too deep wallowing in my own pain as much as I tried to push it away all day. Rejection comes in many forms and I’ve endured it three times from the same man. When are you going to learn Kimber?

  Later, I finally made it to the Duck. My stomach was twisting in knots afraid he would be here. I was relieved when I looked out over the parking lot and found that his car was missing. Later in the night though, I felt no relief, more like frustration that he didn’t show.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Jordan

  When I get to the motel my mom calls again to make sure I’m actually coming home. As much as I don’t want to go back, I have to. I’ve hurt Kimber too many times now. I have to get my head on straight and tell her everything and see if she’ll take me back.

  My drive back is quick. I have a plan now so the sooner I can get whatever this is with Mr. Weller over with, the sooner I can get back and apologize to Kimber.

  When I pull into the circular drive in the shadow of my parents’ two story house, I marvel at the sheer size of the place. What a waste. They are gluttonous sometimes. I know they donate to charities and such because it’s expected but why two people need a 7,000 square foot home with six bedrooms is beyond me. I climb the stone steps leading up to an expansive porch laden with rocking chairs, a hammock and a wicker couch on one end. My mom steps out of the front door fully dressed and made up as if she is on her way out to a party or something.

  I lean down kissing her cheek mumbling, “Hi Mom.”

  She kisses my cheek and grabs my arms embracing them in a semi-hug. She pulls back still clenching my arms and exclaims, “You look well.”

  I nod, not in the mood to talk, but she doesn’t get the hint and gestures to the chairs across the porch calling back into the house, “Maria, can you bring us some lemonade?”

  I hear Maria call back, “Yes ma’am, be right out.”

  I fall into a rocking chair as she perches on the edge of the couch across from me.

  I’m still pissed that I had to drive back for this.

  “What is it that Mr. Weller needs to tell me that requires me to drive back here?”

  She shifts uncomfortably and her voice takes on a whiny tone, “Jordan, where have you been? I’ve been so worried about you.”

  She completely ignored my question which annoys me further. I stand up just as Maria is coming out the door with a tray laden full of cookies, glasses and a pitcher of lemonade. I start for the door holding it open for her and mumble, “If you’ll excuse me.”

  I walk into the house toward my dad’s study. Once in there I spot the mini-bar and pour myself a whiskey downing it in one gulp. As I’m pouring my second glass, I eye my dad standing in the doorway. He smiles warmly telling me, “Your mother said you just got here. How are you?”

  I grab the bottle and settle in a brown leather chair nestled in the corner of the room.

  “I’m good Dad. I guess as good as can be expected.”

  He looks toward the couch facing me as if to ask if he can sit down. I dip my head giving him the go ahead. He sinks into the new leather and looks up seriously as he clasps his hands. He explains, “Your mom wanted me to come and talk to you. She invited the Wellers to dinner tonight.”

  I wait, taking another sip of the mind numbing liquid. At this rate I’ll be drunk by the time the Wellers get here. It’ll make anything he has to tell me more bearable, I’m sure.

  My dad continues, “You need to understand that this is hard for them. It’s difficult for them to come over here and talk about Susan.”

  I frown, staring down at the red Persian carpet under my feet. Do they think this is easy for me? That it’s a fucking walk in the park? Instead of voicing my thoughts, I look up at his waiting expression and tell him, “Okay Dad.”

  I pour more from the bottle and look away pissed that I have to even be here. The expression on Kimber’s face when I walked to the barn keeps replaying through my head. This shit is messed up. I’m here to talk to my dead fiancé’s parents and the woman I want to be with is two hours away, pissed at me.

  My dad calls over his shoulder on his way out the door, “Mom said dinner is at six. I suggest you stay sober.”

  This makes my anger surface even more. I set the glass down and take a long swig from the bottle, enjoying the numb as it spreads. I’m such a screw up. I failed Susan, causing her to take her own life and now I’ve been given a second chance and I dragged my feet, probably losing it.

  ***

  My mom’s distant voice sounds through my head. I raise my hand to calm the spinning. The sound comes closer with incessant nagging, “Jordan, wake up. The Wellers will be here within the hour.”

  I squint in the dim light casting from the setting sun through the blinds. My mom comes into focus, standing in the doorway across the room. Her hands are on her hips and a disappointed expression crosses her face. I close my eyes again, trying to ward off the spin. Then I hear shuffling. My eyes open again to her face a few feet away and an almost empty bottle is fitted between her fingers, “Did you drink this whole thing? Jordan I think you might have a problem.”

  I sit up straighter holding my head still and disagree, “No, Mom, I’m fine. There’s still some left.”

  She turns disgusted and calls back, “Go clean yourself up, you smell like a bar.”

  An hour later, I make my way back down the stairs, clean from a shower with a fresh pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. I follow the sound of voices to the living room. My head is killing me. Mr. and Mrs. Weller are sitting on a cream couch in the middle of the room. My parents are settled across from them on its twin. Mr. Weller and my dad both stand when I enter the room. I head to the counter laden with bottles and a mini fridge and stoop down to grasp a bottle of water from the fridge. I unscrew the cap and drink almost the whole bottle. When I top it back with the cap I walk over and shake Mr. Weller’s hand. The feelings in me that are surfacing at the sight of her parents are making me uncomfortable. I wasn’t expecting my body’s reaction. It’s as though a piece of me is suddenly missing.

  I sink into a chair placed to the side of the couches and listen as my parents make small talk with the Wellers. Finally, after a little while their attention turns to me as my mother states, “Jordan has been MIA these past weeks. We don’t know where he’s disappeared to but he seems good.”

  I hadn’t thought about it but I suddenly don’t want to tell them where I’ve been. It’s as if Mount Vernon is a new life, one not mixed with this one. I don’t want it to be tainted in any way by my life here. I remain silent, hoping no one will probe about where I’ve been. I know this is childish, I can’t hide forever.

  Before anyone can ask anything more, Maria comes in announcing dinner is ready. I follow both couples
into the dining room set with my mom’s fine china and crystal. I’m not comfortable being here in these surroundings, I long to go back to Mount Vernon. Dinner stretches on but I’m not going to be the one to bring up why I’m here. I have a feeling whatever they need to tell me isn’t going to be something I want to hear.

  Finally, my dad suggests we go back to the living room for after dinner drinks. My headache has subsided by now so I pour a small glass of whiskey. My mother’s disapproving look doesn’t go unnoticed but I don’t care at this point. Once everyone else is settled in the central area Mr. Weller speaks up, “Jordan, why don’t you come and sit down?”

  I settle on the edge of the chair and watch as he pulls a folded envelope from his pocket. His fingers linger on it before he holds it out to me. I hesitate a minute because I’m pretty sure I know what it is. I turn it over in my hands, staring down at the unmistakable handwriting, Susan’s. My heart stops as I turn the envelope in my hands, noting it hasn’t been opened. I look up to Mr. Weller and he answers the question before I have a chance to ask it.

  “We found it on her desk the next morning. I wanted to give it to you the day of the funeral but you weren’t ready. We weren’t ready.”

  He takes a deep breath as Mrs. Weller reaches out to squeeze my hand momentarily.

  “Jordan we knew about Susan. We’ve known for a long time.”

  I frown not understanding what he’s talking about.

  “We took her to see a doctor when she was in high school. They diagnosed her as bi-polar. But we were assured as long as she stayed on her medicine, that she would be able to handle it.”

  My chest involuntarily heaves at his revelation. They knew, they knew. I glare at him suddenly hating him as the night she did it comes back to me, emphasizing his denial.