The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga) (37 page)

“What’s that?” Christa asked.

“He’s an older sibling.  A natural leader.  Head chief.”

“That’s redundant,” Christa joked.

“So it is.” 

Taylor found herself missing Chandler.  Nothing against present
company, but she could stand a nice, tight embrace, or even a kiss at this point.  Something about this day, a feeling she couldn’t put a finger on, made her nervous.  Bryn intimidated her, but she didn’t think it was deliberate.  She excused herself and walked purposefully into the kitchen.  She found her mother behind the island with Bryn and Susan, the three of them marinating enough chicken to feed a small army.  Each container was carefully stored in the refrigerator for the time being, and the women moved onto their next project. 

“What can I do to help?” she asked in a confident voice.

“Let me get you an apron,” Bryn offered.  She smiled brightly as she helped tie it around her waist.  “Can’t have you seeing my son with any food spatter on your clothes.”

“Thank you,” she replied in a soft voice.  Immediately Bryn acquainted her with a knife and cutting board, where she sliced a
seemingly-endless supply of hard-boiled eggs in half in preparation for them being deviled.

“You seem pretty adept in the kitchen,” Bryn noted.  “Alice must’ve taught you everything she knows.”

Taylor gave a self-deprecating smile.  “I was an unwilling student.”

“You sound like our girls,” Susan tease
d.

“Tomboys, all three of them,” Alice chimed in, “but they’re also beautiful.”

Taylor flushed at her words and resumed her kitchen duties.

“I passed my cooking skills on
to CJ and Chandler, oddly enough,” Bryn observed.  “Not that either of them is eager to put those skills on display.”

Chase entered the back door, greeting each woman in turn.  “Miss Alice,” he said, “I haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays.”  He left a cordial kiss on her cheek.  “You know I’ve always had a soft spot for blondes.”

“You kidder,” she said, shaking her head in mock reproach.  “I haven’t been a blonde since Taylor was in diapers.”

He hooked an arm around Bryn’s shoulders.  “
I have an excellent memory.”

She shoved a freshly-prepared deviled egg into his mouth.
  “Down, boy.  Is everything ready to go?”

He swallowed before answering.  “Uh-huh.  Sam’s waiting outside with the cooler full of ice.”

“Why didn’t you bring the boys to help?”

“
I left them watching the ribs, which don’t really need watching at all.”  He shot her the quickest of winks.  “And we old men can still pull our weight around here, pretty lady.”

“So you can.”  She gave him a peck on the lips.  “Get a move on, then.  We’ll be up there soon enough with the rest of the food.”

“Solid plan, ma’am.”  The women assisted as Chase and Sam made quick work of the meat, then resumed their work in the kitchen.  Taylor followed the others’ lead—they were far more qualified than she at this sort of thing.  She worked to get better acquainted with Bryn, who retained the warmth and geniality Taylor remembered from her younger years—it was simply that they’d once disagreed, albeit never face-to-face, about Chandler’s happiness.  She acknowledged that it may still take a while for her to be completely back in Bryn’s good graces.

Later she returned to the living room and watched the kids for a while so Alison and Christa could perform their expected duties.  As she held Matt against her chest—he definitely felt too heavy to be called “baby” even if that was still the
official definition—she watched the other children play and felt that familiar stirring once again, the tangle of emotions that came from having been a mother and lost the chance, and wanting to try all over again.  Men were lucky in a lot of ways, she thought—their vocabulary lacked the term “biological clock”.  But they’d also never know the heart-filling awe of carrying life inside you, and the instantaneous sense of responsibility that accompanied it.

***

Chandler tugged at the chambray fabric of his shirt—it was completely wet with moisture, and it left him wishing he’d chosen more wisely from his closet that morning.

“Maybe I should’ve put on a lighter shirt,” he grumbled.

“You could always yank it off, give that girlfriend of yours an eyeful,” CJ ribbed mercilessly.

Mark sighed in familiar resignation.  “Am I gonna have to separate the two of you?  Again?”

CJ laughed and tugged on the brim of his hat until both eyes were well hidden.  “I was just trying to get our minds off the heat, but I picked the wrong way to do it.  I apologize
profusely
.”

Now it was Chandler’s turn to laugh.  “Show-off.”

“You know it.”

They were seated inside the barn, atop bales of hay, finding a cool respite in the shade.  Each and every horse had been watered, and the cattle
were, at last check, resting in the shade of a grove of trees.  Chase and Sam were manning the grill at a safe distance, and the ranch hands awaited the food-and-fireworks extravaganza from the safety of the bunkhouses.  Chandler clasped, then unclasped his hands, and leaned back against the stall door.

“What’s on your mind, bud?” Mark asked subtly.
  “Maybe we can help.”  CJ nodded in agreement, his eyes fixed upon his brother as his face turned compassionate.

Chandler was startled by his intuitive question
, though he needn’t have been.  “Give me a few days,” he requested.  “I’m still working it out inside my head.”  He pointed an index finger alongside his temple for emphasis.

CJ responded with a light shrug.  “Busy place, inside your head.”  He smiled amia
bly. “Are you ever able to turn it off?”

Chandler lifted his head, looked from his brother to his best friend and back again.  “When I’m with her,” he answered calmly.  “I kind of lose myself.  I’m not this hyperactive kid or this rowdy cowboy—I’m just a m
an.”  He allowed his statement time to sink in, not sure what to expect in reply.

Mark lifted an eyebrow at him.  “Been there,” he answered succinctly. 

“Same here,” CJ agreed.  His response was so concise, so unlike his brother that Chandler had to do a double take.

“That’s normal?” he asked in a rough voice.

“As normal as the sunrise,” Mark said.  “Without making either of you squirm too much, I’ll just say there’s a lot of clarity to be found there.”

CJ nodded quickly.  “No arguments here, man.
  I knew it from that very first time.”

Chandler opened his mouth to speak but nothing emerged.  He lost himself in his thoughts, and was still navigating the ponderous depths of his mind when he heard the sound of trucks pulling to a stop outside.  CJ and Mark got
to their feet first, and he followed a few steps behind, knowing their arms would soon enough be full of children.  He spotted Taylor carrying what appeared to be a tray of deviled eggs; her hair was pulled up and she was wearing a Western shirt, blue and white stripes threaded across a red background, but she’d never looked more beautiful.  Their eyes met for a moment and they shared a smile.  He moved quickly to assist his mother, as everyone worked to drag the cool dishes in Sam and Susan’s house.

“One
of these days,” Bryn speculated, “we’ll figure out how much smarter it is to do the cooking over here.”

“Maybe in another ten or twenty years?” he asked hopefully.

She patted him on the shoulder.  “Sounds about right.”

The tables were ready, people were mi
lling about while talking, and the meat was going through the last stages in the large, metal cooker, looking more like a steaming barrel than a vessel for food.  It was a few minutes before Chandler caught up to her again, and another few minutes after that before they could speak privately.

“You look great.”

She was amused by the brevity of his words.  “Thank you.”  She followed his measured footsteps through the open barn, stood alongside as he scooped handful of oats from a bag and fed it to his horse.  “It was fun, helping your mom.”

Chandler smiled but didn’t meet her gaze.  “She likes you, T.  She just doesn’t always know how to show it.”  His blue eyes seemed more muted as she watched them scan her face.
  She saw his chest flatten, relieving itself of a deep breath he’d been holding.  “As long as we have a moment to ourselves…”

She hooked her arms around him, nestled against his tall frame, and leaned into his kiss.  It was already hot enough outside without this, the warmth radiati
ng from their parted lips.  She closed her eyes, followed his lead, and felt the haze surround them.

“Nearly time to eat,” he declared a moment after their mouths had separated. 
“The ranch hands eat first, but I doubt anyone would mind if we hopped in line behind them.”

The meal was, as always, a lighthearted, friendly gathering.  Family and friends reminisced, talked about the future, and watched the children play.  The faces changed, and new ones came along, but it’d been the same affair for so many yea
rs that Chase and Bryn had honestly lost track.  Chandler figured it was upwards of thirty—longer than he’d been alive.  He watched Taylor with unnecessary concern—she slotted into his family perfectly, with the children fully enamored of her from day one and everyone else following along quickly.  Anyone, he figured, would be hard-pressed not to admire her beauty and grace.  It felt more and more, with each passing day, as though they were headed toward a certain destination, and that they’d arrive there together.  Provided his nerves didn’t get the better of him first.

Everyone dispersed to their own corners and seats of the open area, some finding shade on porches, in the barn, or alongside the outbuildings.  Taylor went
into Sam and Susan’s house with Christa, and helped her put the kids down to sleep before the fireworks began.

“I’ll come back for the biggest ones later,” she said, “but it’s doubtful any of them will see the fireworks.  They’re still at the napping age, even Little Chase.”

“And Matt will sleep through it all?” Taylor queried.

“Like a log.”

Her predictions came to pass accurately.  She kept the monitor at her side, but any attempt to rouse the sleeping children was unsuccessful.  Taylor took her place between Christa and Chandler on the front porch of the house.  He linked his arm through hers, a languid pose of escort in deference to their seated position.

Fireworks filled the air intermittently, shattering the sky into golden-
blue shards.  Taylor felt a chill from Chandler’s arm brushing against her.  It was still hot enough to spark a match.

“You cold?” he whispered in her ear.

“Not at all,” she said, settling against his chest.  “I’m gonna take Mom home soon, but we can meet at your apartment if you’d like.”

“Sure,” he agreed, his smile barely visible in the darkness.

Hugs were exchanged, goodbyes were spoken, and everyone worked their way toward their beds, putting the holiday behind them for another year.  Taylor dropped Alice at home, and refrained from rolling her eyes when her mother told her to “Have a good time.”  Chandler was waiting inside his office when she arrived, and walked her upstairs, both of them a little awkward on their feet after such a long day.

“I’m exhau
sted, cowboy,” she said when they’d reached the kitchen.  He hung his hat on the wall and turned toward her.  His fingers went for the buttons on her shirt and she smiled.

“I have just the thing to help you get to sleep,” he quipped.

Their eyes met and he laughed at the smirk on her lips.  “You read my mind,” she replied.

Chapter 24

They spent the rest of the week apart from one another; he commanded that she devote more time to her mother and she complied, although he knew she had a mind of her own and wouldn’t kowtow with anything he suggested without first approving it herself.  He kissed her goodbye and drove out to the ranch, keeping the gallery and store closed and fielding phone calls and inquiries as he worked on his house.  He texted her nightly, and some of the short messages relayed between them would’ve made anyone blush.  On Friday he helped Mark fill the barn to the rafters with hay, and on Saturday, he went for a mind-clearing ride, planning to spend some quiet time with his horse.  But fate, and his big brother, had other plans.

C
J was already in the barn and inspecting his horse’s hooves—something he did on a regular basis.  “What brings you out bright and early this morning?” he asked curiously.

“Though
t I might go for a ride.”  He scrutinized his older brother somewhat dubiously.  “Why do you ask?”

“Would it be okay if I joined you?”  CJ smiled winningly.  “I’ll even saddle your horse.”

Chandler relented after a split second.  “How can I refuse that offer?  I’ll be waiting on you, bro.”