Shattered Hearts ePub (9 page)

“Why would I do that?” he shrugged.  “I can’t stand mind games, so of course I’m going to tell you the truth.  And besides, I’m not without blame either.  I shouldn’t have yelled at you.  Maggie calls me a hothead and I suppose she’s right.  I don’t mean to be that way and I hate it about myself.  I’m just...”

“Stressed?” I offered knowingly.  He tried to hide it, but I could see it in the way he carried himself day in and day out.  It was like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and was unable or unwilling to let anyone else bear some of the burden for him.

“Yes, like you wouldn’t believe.  Seeing you fall from that horse scared the hell out of me, Amanda.  When I thought you might be badly injured, I couldn’t even breathe.  I guess fear is what made me flip out, but that’s no excuse.”

“It’s okay,” I said softly.  Hearing Nate take responsibility for his actions meant a lot.  As sad as it was to admit even to myself, I’d come to expect men to blame their misdeeds on me or try to justify them in some delusional tirade.  But Nate had simply owned up to what he’d done wrong and apologized.  It was refreshing.

“How’s your hip?” he asked, looking down.  “I couldn’t help but notice you’re still limping.”

“It’s sore, but it’s better than it was,” I told him.  “I should probably put more ice on it.”

“Back when I was still competing, sometimes the best way to loosen up a pulled muscle was a nice long massage,” Nate recalled.  “I could...I mean, if you want I can give you one,” he offered, seeming almost shy.

Though my first instinct was to refuse, it sounded too good to pass up.  Silently, I nodded.  Nate motioned for me to go into the living room and once we were in there, gestured for me to get on the couch.  Gingerly, I lowered myself onto its cushions, hissing in discomfort as my body screamed in protest.

Nate got down on his knees beside me and his hand hovered uncertainly over the bottom of my skirt.  “Can I –?” he asked, seeming uncharacteristically flustered.  I nodded.  Either he’d gotten too much sun the previous day or else he was blushing.

And when he tentatively lifted my skirt up, my face started burning too.

“You’re bruised,” he murmured, lightly tracing his finger over the discolored flesh of my outer thigh.  “I hate seeing you hurt.”  He touched me like he thought I might break.  I couldn’t remember anyone treating me with such tenderness before, and it left me feeling unbalanced.

“It’s nothing,” I reassured him.  “Go ahead – you can press down harder than that.”  Part of me wanted to feel the pain.  Maybe it was twisted, but I was still angry with myself for being such a bitch to Nate and I wanted to hurt.  I felt like I deserved it.  Sometimes the lasting effects of years of abuse are hard to shake, you know?

But the massage that Nate gave me wasn’t torturous.  It was anything but.  His strong fingers caressed my banged up body carefully, slowly and methodically assessing every inch of bruised skin before determining where to press down.  Somehow he seemed to sense which spots were most tender without me even having to tell him. 

He studied my face intently the entire time, watching for any indication that he should stop or back off.  He looked at me as though my wellbeing was the single most important thing in the world.  Almost instinctually, it was as though he knew exactly how to touch me and how much pressure to apply.  He was so in tune with my body it felt almost like we were of one mind. 

Nate left me tingling, lightheaded and on edge.  I could feel my muscles relaxing, but my body was also responding in other ways.  It was only a simple massage.  There was nothing sexual about it, and yet I couldn’t help but wonder what other miracles those skilful fingers were capable of performing.

I could feel my body responding as I got lost in a fantasy of writhing bodies and impassioned moans.  Shutting my eyes, I felt my breathing quicken as I pictured me and Nate rolling around in my bed naked, our bodies covered in sweat and our limbs entangled.  His hands were all over my bare skin, arousing and exciting me.  His lips were pressed against mine, kissing a slow, steady trail down to my neck, across my collarbone and over my breasts –

“Are you okay?”

My eyes flew open.  Nate was looking at me curiously and it was then that I realized I was panting with desire.  What was wrong with me?!  Swallowing hard, I tried to come up with an excuse, but all I could do was stutter.  “I – I...”

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, clearly concerned.

I shook my head, relieved that he’d mistaken my lust for something else entirely.  “It feels good,” I told him earnestly.  “You have very talented fingers.”  No sooner than the words were out of my mouth, I inwardly cringed.  I was sure my face was positively burning now. 

Moving as casually as I could, I crossed my arms so Nate wouldn’t see how hard my nipples had become in response to his innocent massage.  I was embarrassed to admit it even to myself, but I was incredibly turned on.  In fact, it was taking every ounce of willpower I had not to squirm with desire.  I didn’t know what had come over me.  All I knew was that Nate – and those magical fingers of his – brought something out in me that I couldn’t ignore. 

“It was good, what you did with Penny,” Nate announced abruptly, as though he couldn’t stand the silence.  “The fact that she let you ride her shows how strong the trust you’ve developed is.  You made the right call.  I should have done it months ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He sighed.  “The truth is I didn’t just quit rodeo after my parents’ accident.  I...I haven’t even been able to get on a horse since.  It’s stupid, I know.  If I could compete again, I’d be able to bring in enough money to have peace of mind...there’d be no question about whether I could afford to send Maggie to college next year, or about whether I could keep the farm in the family.  Maybe then I’d actually be able to sleep at night.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it doesn’t all have to fall on your shoulders, you know.”

“I know,” he agreed.  “Maggie will get a part-time job once she’s living on campus, and she’ll contribute as much as she can.  But our parents’ dream was always to send her to college.  They didn’t want her to be in debt or have to struggle, and neither do I.  Helping her pay for college is something I want to do for her.  I owe it to her, and I want to honor our parents’ wishes.”

“You’re a good man, Nate.”

“I don’t know about that,” he mumbled, looking embarrassed.

“I do,” I said simply.

“Did you mean what you said about her hating college?”

“Probably not,” I admitted.  “She complains about her classes, but I think she’s excited about going off to school next year.  I’m sorry I said those things, Nate.  I know you’re doing the best you can in a tough situation.”

Just then Maggie came crashing down the stairs.  “Hey guess what?  I just got an email that my online discussion was canceled!  Server problems or something, I dunno.  Woo, a free morning!”  Then she stopped dead in her tracks.  “What are you guys doing?” she asked curiously, her tone almost a singsong teasing one.  I cringed and hoped she wouldn’t break into a silly song about me and Nate sitting in a tree.

“What does it look like?” Nate answered gruffly, immediately taking his hands off me as though she’d walked in on us doing something private.  “Amanda has a sore hip.  I’m trying to help.”

The knowing smirk vanished from Maggie’s pretty face.  “I thought you said you were fine,” she said to me, wide-eyed.  “Does this mean you won’t be able to go to the Spring Fling on Saturday night?  Oh, but you
have
to, Amanda!”

“What’s the Spring Fling?” I asked, looking at Nate questioningly as he helped me sit up.

“It’s some dumb dance she’s been obsessed with since she was fifteen,” he said with an eye roll.

“I heard that!” Maggie scoffed, giving Nate a playful smack.  “The Spring Fling,” she informed me happily, “is the biggest social event in town.  Everyone shows up!  Every year it’s bigger and better than the last!  There’s dancing and a silent auction and pie...mmm, the pie is so good!  You
have
to come, Amanda!”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Nate chuckled.  “Just ignore her.”

“Quiet you!” Maggie ordered, sticking her tongue out at him.  “He acts like he hates the Spring Fling,” she informed me cheerfully as though he wasn’t even there.  “Every year he complains about it but every year I talk him into going and he has a great time.  Isn’t that right, Nate?”

“A great time?” he repeated with an amused smirk.  “I tolerate it.  That’s all.  And another thing:  shouldn’t the Spring Fling take place in, oh, you know...
spring
?  I get that all the farmers are busy with seeding then, but I mean come on, at least rename the damn thing, right?”

“Oh you’re impossible!” Maggie complained.  “You are going to come though Amanda, right?”

“Well, if there’s pie...” I said with a smile, not wanting to disappoint her.

“Yay!” she squealed, practically jumping up and down.  “You can wear your new blue dress!  Ooh or you can borrow something of mine!  I know what you should wear!  I have this gorgeous little black dress with cap sleeves and lace trim...it will look perfect on you!  Hang on, I’ll go find it – you’ll love it, you’ll see!” 

And then Maggie was up the stairs like a shot, running off to tear through her closet, no doubt.

Nate sighed and shook his head, a grin on his good looking face.  “Sometimes she reminds me of a puppy,” he laughed.  “She’s got more energy and enthusiasm than she knows what to do with. It’s cute but exhausting.”

“But at least she doesn’t pee on the floor or chew on your shoes,” I chimed in.

Nate burst out laughing at that.  “You’re funny,” he marvelled, looking at me as though he was seeing me for the very first time.  “I didn’t know you were funny.  What else don’t I know about you, Amanda?”

“Um, well even when my hip
isn’t
thrown out, I can’t dance to save my life.”

“Oh well.  I hate dancing.”

“And yet you go to this Spring Fling every year?” I teased.

“Uh huh...It’s one of those all ages things, but once the older folks go home to bed, that’s when it gets wild.  Or fun, as Maggie would say.  When she was a teenager, the only way our parents would let her stay late was if I stuck around to keep an eye on her.  So I’ve been going every year since,” Nate shrugged.  “It’s not really my thing but she was right about one thing:  the pie is fantastic.”

“You’re awfully protective of her.” 

“Yeah, I guess some people would say I’m overprotective,” he acknowledged.  “I know she doesn’t need me to babysit her anymore.  When you grow up with a kid sister I guess in your eyes she’s always little, you know?  I can’t help it; I want to look after what’s close to my heart.”

Tears sprang to my eyes then.

“Amanda, what is it?” Nate demanded, sitting down next to me.  “Did I say something wrong?”

I shook my head and tried to swallow the lump in my throat.  “It’s just...you’re so good to Maggie.  You’re always there for her.  You have her back no matter what and always put her interests before your own.  I wish I could have been half the sibling you are,” I confided. 

“You never talk about your family,” he observed.  “Do you have a sister?”

“Brothers,” I replied.  “Two of them...they’re twins.  They’re fourteen.  They’re just kids.”

“I had no idea.  And...they’re back in California?” Nate asked cautiously.  I could tell he was trying to read between the lines and piece everything together.  He was so attentive!  I’d never met anyone who hung on my every word the way he did, as though everything I uttered was of the utmost importance.  He made me feel like
I
was important.

“Mmhmm,” I nodded.  “I should be there for them.  I should be teaching them things and protecting them and being the big sister they deserve.  Instead, I ran.  It wasn’t a decision I made lightly. I had to do it – I had to.  But that didn’t make it any easier to abandon them.”

My shoulders were trembling now as I fought back sobs.  I missed my brothers so much, and I felt so guilty for leaving them.  I felt Nate place a reassuring hand on my back, offering me a silent, simple gesture of comfort.  I leaned against him gratefully, thankful for his kindness.

Nate put his arm around me then, his muscular, hard body practically dwarfing mine.  I was startled by how safe and cared for something as simple as his arm around my shoulders made me feel.  “What were you running from?” he asked me curiously, pulling me so close to him that his words were muffled by my hair. 

Thankfully at that moment we heard a crash upstairs, followed by Maggie cursing spiritedly.  Then she stomped down the hall.  “Nate!” she shouted from the top of the stairs.  “I guess you were right when you said I’m a hoarder-in-training.  The rod in my closet broke!  There are clothes, like, everywhere!  I need your help!”

“Not now, Maggie,” Nate called back.  “I’ll come take a look at the closet rod soon.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered, extracting myself from the security of his arms.  “Go to her.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking reluctant to leave my side.

I nodded even though I hadn’t truly been okay in years.  “Go.”

T
he Spring Fling was held in an actual barn a couple miles out of town.  Until then I’d naively assumed barn dances only happened in the movies, but nope – the enormous red and white structure we pulled up in front of proved me wrong. 

“How do we look?” Maggie demanded, striking a pose as the three of us climbed out of Nate’s truck.  She twirled around, her excitement evident.  Then she grabbed my hand and made me twirl, too.  I felt my loose curls brush against my shoulders and the dangly earrings she’d loaned me swayed gently in time with my movements.

Maggie had insisted I come in from the field early that day so we could have a girls’ afternoon, as she called it.  It had involved putting goopy green mud masks on our faces, curlers in our hair and glittery nail polish on our toes.  I wasn’t used to that sort of thing, although I supposed it wasn’t much different from what my mother did on her spa retreats – just less expensive.  And I had to admit, it had been kind of fun.