Here to Stay (26 page)

Even so, she couldn’t wait to leave. “Thank you for the lovely afternoon and dinner. It was fun. But if you won’t let me help with the dishes, Luke and I really should be going.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ll have to work tonight to make up for goofing off today.”

“Can I take one more walk with Rosebud?” her brother asked. “Just a short one?”

Mandy glanced out the window. “It’s dark, Luke. Another time, perhaps.”

“For me, it’s always dark,” Luke argued. “Come on, Mandy, please?”

“I said no, Luke. We need to get home.”

Luke must have heard something in her voice, because he allowed her to hustle him to the car. Mandy’s hands shook as she grasped the steering wheel.

“This is great,” Luke said, his voice sharp with resentment. “Just frigging
great
. You yammered at me nonstop to make friends with Rosebud, and then when I do, you ruin everything by freaking out over a little wine.”

“I didn’t say a word!” Mandy cried as she backed up the car to turn around.

“You didn’t need to. The tension at that table was so thick I could have cut it with a knife! Do you think Zach’s stupid? That he didn’t realize you were upset? Get real.”

“I tried my best, Luke. Now, please, just drop it. Give me a few minutes to pull myself back together.”

“Would you listen to yourself? Why do you need to pull yourself back together over some stupid wine? He’s not our father. Got it?”

Troubled by Mandy’s behavior, Zach remained on the porch to wave them off. When the Honda disappeared, he gazed thoughtfully at Rosebud, who stood at his side. Luke had made great strides with her today. The ice had been broken, and the kid was starting to realize and relish the freedom the mini could offer him.

Unfortunately, Zach had lost ground with Mandy and he couldn’t think why. He mentally rewound the evening. Had it been the wine? Up until he offered her a glass, she’d been laughing and talking, apparently having a good time. Then, bang, she’d gone as stiff as a frozen water hose. Zach didn’t get it. It wasn’t as if he’d gotten toasted. Most people couldn’t on only two glasses.

Screw it
. If she chose not to drink, fine. That didn’t mean the rest of the world had to follow suit. If she didn’t like it, that was her problem. He wasn’t going to make it his.

After getting Luke tucked in, Mandy sat on the sofa in the dark living room, arms looped around her knees, head resting against the back cushion. The faint scent of barbecue smoke clung to her sweatshirt, making her want to change tops, but right then she didn’t have the energy. Instead she listened to the creaks and groans of the old house settling, familiar sounds that normally soothed her. Not tonight.

She had work she needed to be doing, but she was too upset and frustrated with herself right then to concentrate.
Idiot
. She’d really started to like Zach Harrigan. Though she hadn’t allowed herself to go anywhere with it in her fantasies, the possibilities had still tickled at the back of her mind. Did he like her as much as she liked him? Maybe something special could come of it. Zach would be so good for Luke. Her brother had never had a decent male role model, only an alcoholic father who got staggering drunk and flew into violent rages.

Zach had seemed so different—until he brought out the wine. Since childhood, Mandy had had a huge problem with alcohol consumption. With her dad, it had all started with a glass of wine, an infrequent and seemingly harmless indulgence, according to what Mandy’s mother had told her. But then his drinking had escalated to a daily thing, he’d turned to hard liquor, and the amounts had increased. To this day, Mandy could remember watching him with a suffocating fear, waiting for that moment when he would go over the edge. And her father had
always
gone over the edge.

By age fifteen, Mandy had come to
detest
alcohol in any form. Wine, beer, whiskey—she hated them all. And she’d sworn never to touch them. She’d also sworn that she would never be like her mother, falling into a trap, married to a brutal alcoholic.

As irrational as Mandy knew it was, just the sight of someone drinking frightened her. That first night when she’d faked the car trouble, Zach had served Tucker and Cookie whiskey, but he hadn’t poured any for himself, leading her to think he kept liquor on hand only for his guests.
Stupid me.
She’d been about to do something really dumb, like fall in love with him, and she was extremely lucky to have learned the truth about him tonight. But she didn’t feel lucky. She felt empty. And alone.

Just the thought of falling in love with him made her wonder at herself. She’d sworn since her late teens never to give her heart to any man. Falling in love often led to marriage, and the very thought of that terrified her. She’d seen what it was like for her mom, working from dawn to dark and long into the night, not to mention enduring physical abuse day in and day out. Granted, Mandy knew all marriages didn’t turn out that way, but she was also aware that a woman never really got to know a man until it was too late. Zach clearly had money. His father was rich and had evidently shared the wealth. All those horses hadn’t come cheap, and that fabulous ranch hadn’t, either.

In so many ways, Zach was like Mandy’s dad—wellheeled, handsome, charming, and influential in the community. And he drank as well. No how, no way. She never wanted to see him again. There was something about him that made her a little addle-brained, and that could be dangerous. She had the awful feeling he could sell her the Brooklyn Bridge if he set his mind to it.

Determined though Mandy was to stay clear of the man, she couldn’t quite reason away the sharp pang of disappointment in her chest. He’d seemed so nice and wonderful. She’d been so close to throwing caution to the wind and taking the plunge. It could have been so perfect—if only he didn’t drink.

Zach stood at his granite kitchen countertop, frowning at the half-empty wine bottle. It was definitely the wine that had set Mandy off. Had to have been. She had been all smiles until she saw the merlot. A sudden memory came to him—how Mandy had grown pale and moved away from the table that first night when he’d gotten the Jack Daniel’s out of the cupboard for Tucker’s Irish coffee. He’d known people who disapproved of alcohol, but she’d acted almost afraid of the stuff.
Weird
.

Bewildered, Zach dumped the rest of the wine down the sink. His drink of choice was beer. He drank wine only before or with meals, didn’t cook all that much, and by morning, that was all the wine would be good for.

Normally most Catholics were pretty relaxed individuals, but Zach had encountered a few zealots over the years. Maybe Mandy was one of them, an ultrareligious extremist who didn’t believe in drinking, dancing, going to the movies, or playing cards. If so, he was damned lucky to have found out tonight. Maybe that accounted for the Little Miss Innocent look in her eyes, because she’d spent her whole life avoiding everything fun.

Well, Zach was no puritan. He enjoyed a lot of things in moderation, and drinking was one of them. Yes, he overindulged sometimes, but he sure as hell didn’t make a habit of it anymore. Hello, he’d finally grown up.

I’m not a bad guy
, he assured himself as he opened the refrigerator to grab a beer.
And I’m sure as hell not an alcoholic
. Miranda Pajeck—right then he didn’t want to think of her as Mandy—could take her judgmental attitude and shove it.

As the last of the ale slid down his throat, he lifted the empty longneck in an imaginary toast to her. “Put that in your puritanical pipe and smoke it, sweetheart.”

Two weeks passed, and Mandy didn’t call. Zach refused to be the first one to make a move. To hell with her. Rosebud was making huge progress. In a few more months, she would make some blind person a fabulous guide.
Too bad it won’t be Luke.
It wasn’t the kid’s fault his sister had gotten her nose out of joint. If avoiding Zach was more important to Miranda than getting a guide horse for her brother, it was her deal. Zach had started to like Luke, difficult as he could be, and he’d begun to hope there was a chance that the young man might straighten up his act.

Zach continued to sleep in the arena every night outside Tornado’s stall. At first the horse pushed his rump into a far corner, avoiding Zach as if he had the plague, venturing forward only to rub noses with Rosebud. Then, as the days passed, the stallion moved closer, sleeping dead center in his stall.

It was a fine morning when Zach was jerked awake long before dawn by a velvety nibble on his cheek. Thinking it was Rosebud, he pushed at the nose, registering its size only as he came more awake.
Tornado.
The stallion whickered and nudged Zach’s shoulder, as if to say,
Wake up, you lazy sot.

Zach smiled groggily. “Hey, big guy,” he said softly, mimicking Mandy. Thinking of her made his heart catch, and that rankled. “How’s it hanging this morning?”

A quick glance told Zach that everything was hanging just fine for Tornado, and the same held true for himself. Why was it that males always woke up with a hard-on? Zach needed to take a leak, and apparently so did the stallion, because just then he let loose.
Wake-up call
. Zach sat up, fast. When a horse pissed, the splatter effect was—well, far-reaching. He didn’t want it in the face.

As Zach stood, Tornado turned his head sideways to nudge the treat pack on Zach’s belt. Zach scooped out some pellets. As Tornado enjoyed the snack, Zach hesitantly rubbed the flat spot between the horse’s eyes. The stallion didn’t object. It was the first time Zach had ever been able to touch the animal without forcing the issue.

“Well, now, we’re making some progress, aren’t we?” Zach whispered. “You finally starting to think I’m okay?”

In response to that question, Tornado grabbed Zach’s hand and bit down like a grain masher.
Pain
. Zach managed to jerk his fingers from the animal’s mouth. Did a dance, the kind one executed when too breathless with agony to speak. And then, when his lungs could work again, he yelled, “You misbegotten, recalcitrant
bastard
!”

The arena lights came on, and Cookie appeared on the landing. “There’s a bucket over yonder. Just don’t bust your toe.”

Zach flapped his hand and glared up at Cookie, who was grinning from ear to ear. “That’s real helpful. I almost lost all five digits, and you’re directing me to a bucket?”

The old foreman shrugged. “That’s your way, kickin’ buckets.” He settled a thoughtful gaze on the stallion, who was now pummeling the walls of his stall. “What’s up with the little lady? Haven’t seen her around lately. She worked magic with him.”

“You won’t be seeing her again,” Zach shot back. “She’s as crazy as the horse is!”

“That’s too bad. I liked her.” Cookie turned toward the door of his apartment. “Breakfast is on. I cooked for two. Denver omelets this mornin’. If you get over your grump, you’re welcome to join me.”

At twelve minutes past noon, Zach’s cell phone chirped. When he glanced at the screen, a smug grin touched his lips.
Mandy
. She’d evidently searched her call records to retrieve his cell number.
Oh, yeah
. It was her turn to eat crow. Had the
little lady
decided that her abhorrence of alcohol wasn’t quite as strong as her desire to get a free guide horse for Luke?
Hmm
. Well, he wouldn’t let her off easy.
Hell, no.
Not that he wanted any part of her on a permanent basis, but sometimes revenge
was
sweet.

Zach opened his phone. “Yo, Zach Harrigan here.”

He was geared up to hear Mandy’s voice. Instead a hesitant male baritone came over the air. “Mr. Harrigan? Hi, this is Luke.”

Zach regrouped. “Hey, Luke. How’s it goin’, buddy?”

“I, um ... well, you’re probably surprised it’s me.”

Damn straight.
Zach still felt deflated. “I am. How’d you get my cell number?”

“It was on our caller list. Mandy got me special phones that talk.”

“Ah. Well, it’s great to hear from you. What’s up?”

“I, um, just, you know, wanted to tell you I really had fun going for those walks with Rosebud at your ranch.”

Zach was disappointed that it was Luke instead of Mandy on the phone, but he could tell from Luke’s stammering that it had taken a lot of courage for him to call. Zach needed to hook in. Forget about Mandy and her irrational reaction to the wine. Forget about his personal feelings. The guide horse issue was about Luke. Period.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did,” Luke said. “And, I was wondering. ... Well, I know you’re really busy, but is there any way I could take a walk with Rosebud today, to the park maybe? It would only take an hour or two. I’d really like to be with her again, just for a little while.”

Zach frowned. “Does Mandy know you’re calling?”

“No, she’s doing a burn. It’s the booze thing. She’s weird about it.”

Zach tightened his hand over the phone and almost disconnected by keying a button he didn’t intend to press. “The booze thing? I’d really like to understand that, Luke. What
is
the booze thing, exactly?”

“Long story. We’ve got a fucked-up family. You know? I’ll tell you a little about it on the way to the park if you want.”

Zach squeezed his eyes closed. He almost told Luke to watch his mouth, but given that he sometimes used the F-word around other men, that would’ve been hypocritical.

“You’re kind of putting me on the spot, buddy. If your sister doesn’t want you to go out, she may get pissed at me. I’d rather not step on any toes.”

Luke groaned. “Hey, dude, I’m nineteen. Most guys my age are partying and screwing chicks. Do they ask permission? Why do I need my sister’s to go for a walk?”

“I don’t suppose you do. It’s just ...” Zach frowned. In Oregon, Luke was legally an adult. His being blind didn’t alter that fact. “Mandy’s gone, isn’t she?”

“It’s errand day,” Luke admitted. “She hires a sitter for me and takes one day every two weeks to go shopping and do other crap. She’s usually gone about five hours.”