Authors: Sally Clements
He groaned, and gripped the salt shaker tighter.
He’d been kidding himself. Locking his memories in a box in his heart wasn’t dealing with the reality of his mother’s death, wasn’t mourning her. Neither was avoiding all talk of her with Brianne shielding her from heartache, but instead adding to the pain she must have suffered, blocking, as it did, the opportunity to grieve.
He placed the shepherdess on the table. Pushed back the chair, and gripped its back with both hands. Andie was right. He needed to face the memories, not escape them. Until he did, he couldn’t move forward into the future.
He climbed the stairs with heavy steps. Stood outside the bedroom door for a long moment, drawing upon his inner reserves before pushing it open.
She was dressed in worn jeans that clung to her curves, and a T-shirt the color of cranberries. Her back was to him as she gazed out of the window onto the garden, with drooped shoulders.
“Hey,” Ryan whispered, walking across the room to her side.
She glanced over her shoulder.
Christ, opening your heart was hard. He swallowed. “I’m an idiot.”
Her gaze softened.
“You were right, downstairs. I’ve been forcing any emotions I wasn’t prepared to deal with down for so long I didn’t want to acknowledge it. I didn’t believe it was a problem.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw, feeling the sharp prick of bristles against his knuckles. “I don’t like feeling vulnerable.”
She walked close and slid her arms around his waist. “Being vulnerable doesn’t make you less of a man,” she murmured against his chest. “It makes you human.”
She pulled back to look into his face. “The sooner you let yourself explore the memories you’ve forced into that box in your heart, the sooner you’ll be free from them.”
His finger traced her ear. His mouth lowered to hers, and he breathed against her parted lips. “So, maybe I need a list of challenges too.”
Then, surrendering to what would be, he kissed her.
Chapter Thirteen
As darkness stole the last fading light from the sky, Ryan stacked a couple of logs on the fire in the grate. Andie had picked flowers from the garden earlier. She’d arranged them in a small white milk-jug, and now she placed the jug in the center of the table, which was transformed by a white tablecloth she’d found somewhere. She’d added tall crystal candlesticks, and the best glasses. A bottle of red was open on the table, ready for Brianne’s arrival.
The scent of roasting chicken hanging in the air made his mouth water.
Gravel crunched, and the sound of an engine’s purr heralded his sister’s arrival. Ryan strode to the door and flung it open wide, smiling at the sight of the tiny red sports car. Only Bri could get away with driving that—no normal-sized person would fit.
She climbed out as he walked over to greet her.
Bri looked thinner than the last time he saw her. Her dark hair was cut in a straight bob that touched her shoulders, with the ends of the fringe tipped with dark blue. She was wearing another of the lacy sweaters she favored, on top of an ankle length dress in muted blues and greens. Flat silver sandals were laced up her ankles. On seeing him, a wide smile spread across her face. “Hi, stranger.”
“Hey.” Ryan shoved his hands into his pockets. “Good to see you.”
Brianne’s gaze searched his. A tiny frown appeared between her brows. “How are you, Ryan, are you okay?”
He couldn’t look away. Couldn’t brush off her concern like he had so many times before. Brianne had always seen too much, known him too well to be diverted by a casual comment. It was the main reason that he’d avoided making contact over the past while. With his defenses in tatters, he couldn’t—and didn’t even want to—try to lie.
“I’ve been better,” he admitted in a deep voice. “But I’m working on it.”
Brianne squeezed his hand. “In that case, I’m doubly glad I’m here.” Her eyes flickered behind him, reminding Ryan he wasn’t alone, and that he had an introduction to make. He turned to the open front door, “I want you to meet Andie.” He tugged Brianne’s hand. “You’ll like her.”
The liking was obviously mutual. Ryan carved the chicken by candlelight as the two women got to know each other with warm smiles and laughter. They were so different, but to his surprise, an instant rapport sprang up between them. Their body language was plain. There was no attempt to ‘get on’ because of their shared link to him, but rather a deep and natural interest in each other’s lives and interests.
Andie passed plates up to him to fill with chicken without even glancing his direction as she chatted to Brianne. His sister seemed equally captivated, asking Andie questions about her job, and the children she taught. Did they do arts and crafts, what did she think of the recent budget cuts…
By the time he’d taken his place at the table, he was feeling decidedly like a third wheel. “Pass the potatoes?”
Bri stopped mid-sentence and shot him a glance. She looked surprised, as if she’d forgotten for a moment that he was even there.
“Here you go.” She handed the large bowl across the table. “This dinner is fantastic.” She speared a forkful and chewed with a completely over-the-top look of bliss on her face. “Umm. Tastes as good as it looks and smells. This your handiwork, Andie?”
Andie grinned. She reached for the peas they’d picked up at the farmer’s market earlier, and raised her eyebrows in silent query before handing them to Ryan. “I’ve got a limited repertoire,” she admitted ruefully. “Gran made sure I could at least cook a chicken properly. Self-preservation on her part, I think.”
Bri waved a hand over the spread on the table. “Chicken’s pretty easy,” she agreed. “But come on, gorgeous roasties, perfect gravy, and the stuffing’s to die for.” Her gaze flickered to Ryan. “If I was our mother, I’d say something horribly sexist like ‘you’re a lucky man,’ Ry.”
Ryan nodded. “She can walk and talk too.”
Andie’s jaw dropped. She batted Ryan on the arm. “The cheek of him,” she said to Brianne in an aside that had Bri spluttering.
“Aw, honey,” Ryan teased back, loving the light of fun that shone from Andie’s eyes.
She rolled her eyes at him, but her cheek dimpled in the way that always made him want to kiss the tiny indentation. Her hair gleamed like silk in the candlelight, and the dress she’d changed into for dinner, with its deep V at the neckline, showcased the long expanse of neck.
Ryan swallowed.
Brianne cleared her throat. “Uh, hello? I’m here, you know.”
Ryan glanced over. “Now you know how I feel. You two barely noticed me earlier.”
Brianne’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Andie, you’ve obviously woven some sort of spell over my brother. I’ve never seen him so…animated.”
“I can be fun.”
Brianne’s eyebrows rose.
“I can.”
“He can,” Andie said in a soft voice.
Brianne didn’t reply. Silence hung in the air for long seconds.
Then Brianne smiled. “Glad to hear it.” She held her plate out. “Can I have some more of that stuffing?”
*****
Brianne was as different from Ryan as chalk and cheese. Petite to his tall, open and chatty to his quietly intense. She wore a long dress that swirled around her tiny ankles, her equally petite wrists just visible at the end of her lacy emerald jumper.
Bri was bottled sunshine.
“So, tell me about your job,” Andie offered. “It’s got to be to do with color.”
Everything about Brianne screamed color. Her home and garden were beautiful testimonies to her passion, and in person she was so vibrant and alive she almost made Andie’s eyes hurt. Andie’s mind wandered back over her own rather drab everyday wardrobe, and the house she shared with Gran, with its walls covered in a multitude of shades of white and magnolia. It would be difficult to get back into the life she was taking time out from, especially with the inevitable heartbreak the loss of Ryan would bring.
Her ebullient mood dipped.
And there were still long months of summer to look forward to before she could count on the distraction of school to pull her out of this funk. Maybe when she got back, she could paint the house. Add a few of the colorful touches Bri had sprinkled so masterfully around to lighten the mood.
“I work in an art gallery in London, The Allardice Gallery,” Bri confided. “We represent a number of well-known artists, and I organize the shows.”
“You do more than that, Bri, you practically run the place.”
Brianne’s shoulders rose and fell in an elegant shrug. “The owner, Carl, is pretty busy too. There are only the two of us, so I guess a lot of the day-to-day falls to me.”
Andie glanced around. “You’ve done a wonderful job of the cottage, and the garden is beautiful.”
Brianne grinned. “I’m glad you like it. Have you seen the studio?”
Andie glanced at Ryan.
He shook his head. “We haven’t got that far, Bri.”
Brianne tsked. “You mean in all the time you’ve been here, you haven’t walked Andie down to the bottom of the garden? What
have
you been doing?” Her mouth curved into a grin again, and she shook her head. She raised her hands, palms out. “No, don’t answer that. I can guess.”
She focused on Andie again. “He did tell you I’m an artist as well as a gallery employee, right? The picture above the mantle is one of mine.”
The beautiful canvas above the fireplace had been one of the first things Andie had noticed on arrival at the cottage. “He told me.” She glanced at the painting again, appreciating it anew. “I love it.”
“Well, there’s plenty more where that came from.” Andie leaned closer. “I have a studio hidden in the foliage at the bottom of the garden. I usually spend the weekends down there painting away. I’ll show it to you tomorrow. Do you paint at all?”
“I’ve never tried,” Andie confessed. “Apart from finger-painting. There’s a lot of finger-painting at school.”
“You should try it—there’s nothing like capturing your feelings on canvas.” Her eyes gleamed. “It’s really satisfying.”
Andie’s fingers tingled. She’d always enjoyed arty things when she was a child, but had sort of forgotten that side of life when she grew to adulthood. For years, there hadn’t been time, what with looking after Gran, working, and running the household. Now, all that was in the past, and she had a new future to create. Maybe adding something artistic to her list of challenges would be a good idea. “I don’t really know where to begin, but I’m willing to give it a try.”
“If this weather keeps up, we can get the easels out in the garden sometime over the weekend and give it a go.” Brianne glanced at Ryan. “Maybe you’ll even join us, Ryan?” Her chin tilted up. “How about it, on for a challenge?”
A little line of tension thinned Ryan’s mouth. Too subtle to notice, unless you looked carefully. “Maybe.”