The Year of Luminous Love Page 8

  “You go on. I promised a few girls from the old flag corps days that I’d meet them on the midway.”

  Arie darted off, and Ciana left, struggling not to feel envious of her best friend.

  Ciana met her friends and together they went on every ride and played every game, ate funnel cakes and corn dogs and cotton candy, and when the midway shut down at eleven o’clock, they hugged goodbye and promised to do it all again next year. Ciana returned to the corral area near the horse trailer parking lot and saw that only Firecracker was left in the enclosure.

  “Sorry, sorry,” Ciana said when she saw her horse’s head drooping, half asleep. Firecracker raised her head and Ciana was certain the horse gave her an accusatory stare. Ciana muttered, “Don’t look at me like that.” Yet she did feel guilty. She should have taken the animal home hours ago.

  “How about an extra bucket of oats before we load?”

  Firecracker’s ears pricked forward, seeming to understand that she was going to be rewarded with food. Ciana laughed and poured a few cups of oats into a wooden trough. While Firecracker ate, she opened the cab door of her truck and turned the radio on to her favorite country station. She leaned back to savor the summer night sky, where the moon was a half circle with wispy clouds scuttling across it. Rain was coming. While Firecracker crunched oats to the guitar music of a country song, she closed her eyes. The scents of cotton candy and popcorn mingled with the smells of horseflesh and leather.

  “Hello, Ciana.”

  Her eyes flew open. Jon Mercer was standing a few feet in front of her. She straightened slowly from the truck seat. “I … I didn’t hear you come up.”

  “You looked to be in another time and place.”

  “Just waiting for my horse to finish up some oats. Why are you here so late?” His proximity rattled her, and yet her eyes feasted on him.

  “Went out for a few beers with some of the other riders. Came back for my truck.”

  “By the way, great ride today. How’d you do overall?”

  He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a belt buckle. It flashed silver in the moonlight. “Won this and a hundred sixty bucks.”

  “You deserved it, although it doesn’t seem like enough money to have your brains rattled by a wild horse.” She scooted from the truck to stand in front of him.

  “Bragging rights,” he said, sliding the buckle back into his pocket. He was silent for a minute, and she knew he wanted to say something to her. Her heart raced nervously. Finally he said, “I’m a plain man, Ciana. Words don’t come easy for me.” His gaze settled on her eyes. “There’s something I want to ask you. Something I need to know.”

  She took a deep breath. “All right. Ask me.”

  “What happened that night between us? Was it just a game to you? Did any of it matter?”

  She did owe him an explanation, but how honest could she be? “It mattered. I was going to tell you everything about me at breakfast. Then that text came.” She blew out a breath. “My grandmother was in the hospital. We’re very close. I had to leave.”

  “And you didn’t trust me to understand? You couldn’t have jotted down your phone number before running off?”

  “I freaked out. I-I’m sorry. I handled it badly.”

  He looked thoughtful, as if weighing how to say what else was on his mind. “You called the cab before the text message came. Did you think I’d leave you stranded at the diner?”

  She stared down at the toes of their boots, only inches apart. How could she say, I’m a Beauchamp. We don’t act the way I did. “Things looked different in the clear light of day. I was a little ashamed about … about spending a whole night with a man I didn’t know.”

  He shook his head. “Nothing hinky happened. I respected you.”

  She touched his arm. “I believe you, but we were strangers. I-I’d never done anything like that before. I swear that’s the honest truth. And I … um … let’s be honest, I had thrown myself at you—an offer you politely declined. And thank you for that. I was embarrassed. And I haven’t had a margarita since,” she added quickly, bringing a half smile to his face.

  He moved a strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “I ride the rodeo, Ciana. I go from one town to the next with my horse and saddle. Sometimes I have to buy a newspaper to remember where I am. There are girls. Rodeo groupies who think it’s cool to bed a cowboy in every town.”

  Instantly she disliked every one of the unknown females, but she nodded, understanding because she’d heard such stories before. Girls threw themselves at him. Who could blame them?

  “I won’t tell you I’ve never had a one-night stand on the road. I have. But I don’t want that for myself. It’s no way for a man to live, bedding every woman who crosses his path just because he can.”

  Ciana was acquainted with the kind of guy he spoke of—high school jocks who took a girl’s starry-eyed dreams, used her, and left her. College frat guys who hung hearts out to dry with no concern for their owners. She had seen the pitfalls clearly and avoided them. It hadn’t always been easy, but she’d never regretted her choices. Until now. Until that one perfect night under the stars with Jon. “What do you want?”

  Jon searched her face. “To tell you that night with you … it was … different. From the minute you walked in the door, I was … taken. I can’t explain it, and I’m not feeding you a line. I want another chance with you.”

  His words should have flattered her, should have made her melt into his arms. Under normal circumstances, she might have, but what he did not know was that someone stood between them.

  “You didn’t seem happy to see me that day at Pickins’s place,” he added.

  “I was blindsided that day. I went back to that dance saloon a few times, but you never showed. Then I look up one day weeks later, and there you were. I was blown away, then mad when you almost shot daggers at me. I got your message loud and clear: ‘Back off.’ ”

  “It was because of Arie.”

  He looked confused. “She’s my student. She’s paying me to help train her horse. I don’t think about her in any other way.”

  Could he not see how crazy Arie was over him? “Maybe she wants more with you.”

  He dug a trench in the ground with the heel of his boot, keeping silent. When he spoke, he asked, “What about what I want? Does that count?”

  Ciana fidgeted, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, wanting to dodge his question. “Of course, but she’s my best friend. She’s had some rough breaks in her life.”

  “I know. I think she’s brave and tough, and I think the world of her, but that’s all I feel for her.”

  Ciana wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms. Why didn’t he understand the situation she was caught up in? “I won’t do anything to hurt her. Absolutely nothing. No matter what.” She squared her shoulders.

  He stepped closer, made a move to hold her.

  She ducked. “Don’t.” If he touched her, she might fracture.

  He searched her face, then finally said, “Good night, Ciana,” and walked off.

  She forced herself to turn away, hot tears pricking her eyes. If he only knew how much she wanted a second chance with him.

  Firecracker neighed. Ciana swiped at her tears. She quickly loaded her horse, climbed into her truck, and turned the key in the ignition. When the engine coughed to life, she backed the truck and horse trailer away from the area and aimed toward the main road.

  The radio began playing the Garth Brooks song she’d danced to with Jon. “Our lives are better left to chance, I could have missed the pain,” Garth sang. She turned off the radio with a violent twist of the knob and pushed the accelerator harder, forcing the old truck to groan in protest on the empty night road.

  Stupid song.

  Eden arrived home one evening to see Ciana’s truck in her driveway, and when she went inside, Ciana was stirring pots on the stove in Eden’s kitchen. Pans simmered on all b
urners and the microwave hummed in the background.

  “What’s this?” Eden asked, the screen door slamming behind her. “Has the Food Network come to shoot a video?”

  “Hush up, sit down, and eat a meal made with my hands out of vegetables grown from my garden.” Ciana waggled her fingers.

  “Where’s my mom?”

  “Work. She gave me free rein over the kitchen. Now sit.”

  “Why not? Very little happens in this room except coffee and breakfast cereal.”

  Eden slid into a chair and Ciana set bowls of fresh green beans, corn, beets, and salad greens with ripe tomatoes onto the table. “And why are you cooking for me?”

  “I felt domestic today. And I considered it my good friend duty. Look at you. I’ll bet you’ve lost ten pounds since we graduated. And you didn’t have it to lose.” Ciana sat across from Eden and draped a pretty linen napkin over her lap. She had to bring the cloth napkins. Gwen didn’t own any.

  “You made biscuits too?” Eden grabbed one from the bread basket, fragrant and hot from the oven, ignoring the truth of Ciana’s weight-loss remark.

  “I have many talents,” Ciana said, sliding a glass butter dish toward Eden. “That’s fresh-churned too. Stopped by Fred Owens’s dairy farm and bought it.”

  “That’s one way to fatten me up.” Everything was done to perfection. Savory food, cloth napkins, crisp matching tablecloth. The taste of the food perked her up considerably, and gratitude came with it. She ate until she finally pushed away from the table, stretched out her legs, and said, “Wow, that was great. I’m as full as a tick on a dog.”

  Ciana grinned. “Glad you liked it.”

  Eden waited a few beats, then asked, “So aside from rescuing me from an evening of fast food and showing off your cooking skills, why else are you here?”

  Ciana’s brow furrowed. “Because I’m worried about you.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m just fine.” Eden’s lie was so transparent even she choked on the words.

  “How can you be fine when Tony controls your life? And don’t bother to deny it. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. What’s happened, Eden? Used to be no one could push you around.”

  Eden stared up at the ceiling. She was exhausted from carrying the burden of her and Tony alone. She was in over her head and she knew it. And she was scared. “Sometimes love has a dark side.”

  “Are you really in love with him?”

  “I am … was … for a while. Now I just don’t know.”

  “Well, I’m no expert, but he doesn’t act like someone in love. He acts like someone in control.”

  Of course, Ciana had zeroed in on the crux of Eden’s problem. Often she felt as if Tony wanted to crawl inside her head, her skin, and bend her totally to his will, and the deeper in she went with him, the more tangled she became in his web. “I don’t know what to do,” she confessed quietly.

  Ciana looked incredulous. “You drop him, walk away. Tell him to get lost.”

  How naive. “It doesn’t work that way with Tony. If it did, I’d be gone.”

  “What do you mean? Are you a hostage?”

  “In a way, yes.”

  Ciana shoved the empty plates aside. “Explain how this works to me.”

  Eden wasn’t sure she could explain it to herself. She was ensnared by him sexually, but certainly it would have been simple for him to replace her in that role. “He … he thinks I’m some kind of ‘perfect’ female. Me. Can you imagine? I’m some kind of object of desire, his ‘angel,’ his lucky charm. I don’t get it, but so long as he thinks that, I can’t break away from him. He won’t let me go.”

  Ciana blinked, trying to grasp hold of such a concept. “Would he hurt you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “My God! That’s awful. Can you run away somewhere?”

  Eden laughed bitterly. “And where would I go? It’s not like I have a family anywhere. Mom’s cut off everything from her past. Which I might add is my past too. She never told me anything about anyone. For all I know, someone left me in a basket on her doorstep.”

  “Can you skip the country? All you need is a passport—”

  “I have a passport. Tony insisted. He keeps it in a locked desk in his condo. I live in fear that he’ll want to leave the country and drag me with him. And then what would I do? In a foreign country, I’d be completely dependent on him. I’d never get away. No one could find me.”

  “Your mom’s worried about you too. She told me so.”

  Eden rolled her eyes. “I know she hates Tony, but all she does is gripe to me about him. She’s offered me nothing about how to change what’s happening.” In truth, Gwen was acting more responsibly than Eden could ever remember. She took her meds faithfully. She worked often, covering all shifts that the grocery store offered. She cleaned the house, did laundry, even rented a lawn mower every couple of weeks and cut the grass when it reached shin height. Too little, too late, she thought. “I don’t have any family except for a messed-up mother.”

  “I get that,” Ciana said. “I’m not exactly drowning in relatives myself—my mother, and Olivia in a rest home. Any others are MIA—either dead or nonexistent. But,” she added decisively, “you do have friends. And you have a job.”

  “Had a job. Tony made me quit a week ago so we could spend more time together.” She shivered, remembering the finality of his demand, couched in pleading language about how much he wanted and needed her with him, then haunting her with constant shadowing by his intimidating bodyguards until the boutique owner had asked her to leave.

  Ciana’s jaw dropped. “So now you have no money and no job?”

  “He buys me anything I want. Except a ticket out.”

  The room went silent as Ciana pondered all that Eden had said. Finally she asked, “Doesn’t he work? You’ve never told me what he does.”

  A chill shot up Eden’s spine. Tony was becoming more powerful and secure in his drug business, and she was no longer able to pretend that his business was a casual occasional thing. But to tell Ciana about it could put her in danger. Best to keep some things a secret. “He works at home. Just my luck. Now he wants me to move in with him.”

  “No way! You can’t do that!”

  Eden shrugged. “So far, I’ve given him the excuse of having to stay with mom. I’ve told him I can’t leave her alone. That she’s unstable. I’ve said, ‘How can I live with myself if she hurts herself?’ Which, as you and I both know, isn’t exactly a lie. But he won’t let me keep using that excuse much longer. I can feel it.”

  “Can you talk to the police or social services? Ask them for help?”

  Eden reached across the table and grasped Ciana’s hand. “They can’t babysit me. Not round the clock. Tony has too many eyes. Too many friends. I’m stuck, Ciana. Like a rabbit in a trap, I’m stuck.”

  Eden drove back to Tony’s to spend the night, as she had told him she would. If she’d defied him, he’d have sent Billy Jim to fetch her like a bag of laundry. Plus she really didn’t want to be at the house when Gwen returned. Sometimes it was better when Gwen wasn’t on her meds and didn’t concern herself with Eden. She shook off the thought. Hadn’t she wanted a sane mother all her life? Hadn’t she longed for a mother who was “normal”? And yet, she couldn’t deny that talking to Ciana had lifted her spirits. Nothing was resolved, nothing had changed, but she’d shared her fears and felt better. She’d asked Ciana not to tell Arie, to keep her secrets, and Ciana had said she would. No need to get Arie tied up in knots with Eden’s problems. She had plenty of her own. She begged Ciana not to do anything and thanked her for listening.

  Eden parked, entered the glassed-in foyer of Tony’s building, and walked to the elevator that would take her up to his suites. She reached to punch the up button when a hand grabbed her wrist. Fright almost made her wet her pants. A voice from behind her rasped, “Please, don’t scream. Please.”

  Eden turned, pressing her back against the cold metal doors, and looked into the desperate eyes o
f a girl who looked vaguely familiar. Eden tried to pry her wrist from the girl’s hand, but her grip was viselike.

  “Just let me talk to you for a minute. Around the corner. Where no one can see us.”

  Eden was terrified but couldn’t make her voice work.

  The girl took it for compliance and pulled her around the corner, where they couldn’t be seen. There she stepped closer. “Don’t be afraid. I … I won’t hurt you. I need you to help me.” Desperation never left the girl’s eyes. “Don’t you recognize me, Eden?”

  Eden saw a girl with scraggly, unkempt hair, skin with a gray pallor, and facial lesions. Dark circles ringed her eyes, and her body looked impossibly thin. The brief smile she’d offered revealed stained teeth. Eden swallowed hard as recognition dawned. “M-Meghan?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “It’s me.”

  Eden was stunned into another stretch of speechlessness. She hadn’t seen the girl for several years, and now she was almost unrecognizable.

  Meghan released Eden’s arm. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just that, well … I need a favor.”

  “What?” Eden felt queasy.

  “I … I need some stuff. Tony’s cut me off. I owe him money. I told him I’ll pay him, but he said no more until I catch up. I can’t catch up unless I get a hit. You’re his girlfriend. If you ask him, he’ll let you have something for me. Please.”

  Eden stiffened. Meghan’s voice sounded as if it were coming through a tunnel. How could this frail, pathetic girl be the attractive person she’d first met at a street party? “I … I can’t,” Eden whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  From around the corner, Eden heard the elevator bell ding, meaning that someone was either coming down or going up. She broke for the corner and stepped into the elevator just as the door closed. She shook violently, afraid she might hurl. Meghan was a hard-core addict. A benefactor of Tony’s business.

  When the doors opened, she was on Tony’s floor, unaware that she’d even pushed the button to his suite. She stepped out and saw Billy standing at the penthouse door. He nodded at Eden, said, “Tony’s out doing business, but he said for you to go in and wait for him.”