Liz Talley - His Brown-Eyed Girl

“Huh?”

She pointed to the cover of a book that had a Native American woman entwined in a cowboy’s arms. “These two, Small Dove and Colt. She fell out of a tree and he caught her. Crazy, huh?”

Lucas took several steps back wondering why a kid was reading a book that seemed to have sex in it. “I just came to see if you were okay.”

She beamed at him. “You rescued me. You’re my siuleehu. That means soul mate in Cherokee.”

He hadn’t known what to say to that. Or to her every time she boldly rode her bike to his house, stalking him with sunshine and silly smiles, all skinny-legged and browned by the sun. Then one day, she stopped following him. And six months later, he started following a new Courtney. One whose flat planes had developed into curvy wonderfulness, a girl who smelled like a meadow, wore lip gloss and tossed her golden hair over her shoulder. She’d been gorgeous, still funny but not so silly anymore.

For ten years they’d played tag with each other, giving each other their first kiss, accompanying each other to school dances, taking long walks down shady streets, sneaking in kisses, practicing moves on each other and cementing the idea Courtney had offered up that day years before—that they were soul mates.

To be together, build a life with a home, children and successful careers had been the plan...until Ben had come home from college with a hard body and a charming smile. While Lucas had been busy studying for law exams, his brother had been sending out resumes and schooling Courtney around town. Lucas had actually felt gratitude toward his brother for taking care of his soon-to-be fiancée while he studied. After all, they would be family within a few years.

But while he slaved over the intricacies of tax law, Ben and Courtney had been falling madly in love over lattes and late night movies.

Lucas hadn’t had a clue until he’d shown Ben the carat-and-a-half square diamond he planned to surprise Courtney with and watched the blood drain from Ben’s face. At that moment, he began to suspect the distance between him and Courtney had been because of Ben. A kernel of suspicion had bloomed, only to be confirmed days later when they had come to him, contrite, tears in their eyes as they explained how the impossible had happened, how they’d tried to fight against it, but hadn’t been able to stop fate. They were in love...and expecting a baby.

Lucas glanced over at that baby, thirteen now, and disdainful of the man who had stayed away from him because it hurt too damn bad to be in the same room with the two people he’d once loved so well, but who had betrayed him. Made a fool of him.

“You missed the turn,” Michael said.

“Sh—” Lucas bit off the curse word. He had to be careful with his language, but minding his tongue when he felt stressed to the limit was hard. “Easy fix. I’ll take the next exit. Little sightseeing.”

Except it wasn’t great sightseeing on the detour—most of the houses were dilapidated and lonely. Like a neighborhood time forgot...or more like politicians forgot after Hurricane Katrina. Lucas’s artist eye saw opportunity for some emotional photos. Maybe when the kids were in school, he’d come with his camera and play around with some shots. Wasn’t stark landforms against a barren landscape, but the beauty peeking from beneath the cracks and weathering had a rare quality.

Fifteen minutes later, they were on State Street. Ten more and they were in Addy’s driveway unloading bags containing the wood screws and other supplies. Michael, without being asked, hefted a roll of heavy-duty plastic from the bed of the truck and dropped it onto the grass next to the greenhouse.

“Careful,” Lucas said. He wished he’d brought his worn work boots, but the newer, shinier cowboy boots would have to do. “We don’t want to tear that plastic.”

Michael’s mouth flattened into a line. “I don’t know why I have to help do this. I didn’t tear it up.”

“Because it’s Saturday, the sun is out and a neighbor needs help.”

No response came from the kid.

Lucas glanced into the backyard where Chris ignored his younger sister who balanced on her stomach on the swing dangling from the massive wooden play set. His finger swooped across the small screen he held, his concentration centered on the iWhateveritwas in his hand. “Chris, please keep an eye on your sister while we unload everything,” Lucas called.

“Okay,” the boy said, not looking up.

“That means put away that thing you’re tapping on.”

Grumbling, the boy slid the electronic device into his jacket pocket.

“I can watch Lottie.” Michael crossed his arms.

“Chris isn’t strong enough to unload this.”

Michael made a sound that might have been a muttered “whatever” but Lucas chose to ignore it, picking his battle once again.

A small car pulled into the driveway and Lucas glanced at his watch—1:20.

A little late, but that could be expected of a business owner. Things came up and had to be addressed before closing for the day. Besides he hadn’t been counting the minutes until Addy arrived.

Or at least that was what he told himself.

Lucas wasn’t accustomed to keeping shopkeeper’s hours. As a landscape photographer, he didn’t have steady hours. Though his art brought in plenty of money, he never allowed the business to overshadow the passion, so often he worked in spurts, obsessively working days on end then taking weeks off before beginning the artistic cycle again. Usually after working with no rest and little food, his body demanded the restoration. Then at some point he had to meet with Chavez about the running of the ranch. But he liked his world, liked being able to embrace his passion whenever the mood struck him.

Addy parked in the spot sitting kitty-corner from the back door, her posturing proving she’d forgotten they were to reconstruct the greenhouse that day.

How could she have forgotten?

He tried to deny he’d thought about her over the past few days. Heck, that morning while walking Kermit and scooping cat litter, he’d vowed the attraction he’d experienced nights before had been a figment of his imagination.

But he knew he lied to himself. Addy was a cool drink of water after walking a desert...otherwise known as Home Depot with three kids.

Maybe the kids were driving him bonkers, but he suspected the desire to see Addy was more than craving an adult’s company. If he had wanted that, he would have taken Shannon Something-or-other up on her coffee invitation after dropping Charlotte at St. George Day School yesterday morning. Of course, the married and bored Shannon had had more than caffeine on that agenda. Her expression had said, “Let’s have a playdate.”

But he didn’t want to have a playdate with Shannon or any other “single” mother in Charlotte’s preschool class. He wanted a workday with Addy.

“Hey,” Addy said, as she climbed from the cute little Volkswagen that somehow looked too cartoonish for such a serious woman. “I’d forgotten we said we’d work on repairs today.”

Disappointment gave him a little sock. He’d thought she was attracted to him several nights ago. Something had ignited between them...but maybe his lack of sleep from being kicked by Chris, who had climbed into bed with him that first night—probably forgetting his mother wasn’t there—had his mind playing tricks on him.

Addy’s shoulders were tight and something in her expression worried him. She looked so different from the way she’d looked before. Sure, she’d seemed guarded—a private woman with a side of mystery.

But today she looked spooked.

What could make a woman look so hunted?

* * *

ADDY PUSHED A few tendrils of hair from her eyes and studied the big man. She hadn’t actually forgotten Lucas. She had, however, temporarily forgotten about the greenhouse and repairs. Messages from Robbie Guidry tended to do that. Rattled her so that she forgot to stop for eggs or pay her water bill on time. When she got reminders from the man who had stalked her, attacked her and nearly killed her, it put her off balance for several days. So she’d canceled on Wednesday night and stayed inside. Even taking the letter by Lieutenant Andre’s office stirred anxiety and it took time for the reality that Robbie was behind bars and she had control of her life to permeate her brain.