Heart of the storm, p.5
Heart of the Storm, page 5
“Ooh. Who were you trying to get to see you as something more than a New York elitist with a heart of ice?” He gave a mock gasp. “Have you met some burly cowboy lesbian who’s going to make you go full rom-com?”
Amber yelped when a roach scurried over the tip of her shoe and started up the side of the bed. She leapt off it and grabbed her bag, which she’d set just inside the door. “I can’t do this. I’ll sleep in the rental car if I have to.”
“For fuck’s sake, babe. Come home. You can deal with the repairs and all that tedious shit from here while you look for another job.” He took a noisy drink again. “Or go groveling back to the boss. You know how he loves a good grovel.” He hesitated. “I mean, you could try. Or maybe give it some time before you step into his glorified presence again.”
Amber stood outside in the mild humidity, the sun bright and the sky a beautiful blue. Funny how little she noticed the sky back home. But then, it was pretty much blocked out by buildings most of the time. She looked around and groaned. “I forgot that my rental car is stuck at the property. Why are things going from shit to shitty?”
He laughed. “Just wait till they hit shittiest. Then maybe they’ll start to get better.” There was a slight pause. “Seriously, babe. Come home. You shouldn’t be alone during all this.”
Every once in a while, they let their sarcastic façades slip, and his genuine concern brought tears to her eyes. “Thanks, Craig. I just… I don’t know where home is right now.” She looked at the pitted gravel parking lot, the sign with its missing letters in Motel, making it just tel, and swallowed against the urge to let the tears fall. “I need to figure some stuff out, and I can’t do that there. A total change of scenery will help.”
He sighed softly. “Well, it sounds like you’ve got the change of scenery all right. Call me if you really need me, and I’ll come out. Okay?”
“I will. Thanks. Right now, I’m going to call around to find somewhere to stay.” She hung up and then stood there, numbly cradling her phone against her chest. After the way she and Rowan had parted, she had no doubt there was no refuge on that front. Cornelius might know of a place, though. Maybe an Airbnb she hadn’t come across or something.
She hit dial and pasted on a smile, hoping it might sound real in her voice. “Hi, Cornelius? It’s Amber. I was wondering—”
“Hey there! How can I help, Amber? Everything okay at the hotel?”
She moved a little further from the peeling paint of the room door. “Actually, after you dropped me off and I went to check in, they told me it was full and called a cab to take me to the motel.”
“Ugh. Say no more, miss. That should have been torn down and used for scrap years ago.”
“Do you have any idea where else might be available?”
There was silence for a moment. “Well, you could get another rental car and head back to Louisville. This time of year there are a lot of harvest type festivals going on, but there are plenty of hotels there. It would be a bit of a trek back and forth until the house is ready, but at least there you’d have all your city comforts.”
“Fantastic idea. Where can I get a rental car?”
He hesitated again. “Well, Louisville is the closest place to rent one.”
She took a deep, steadying breath. This man was her only connection to human contact or what passed as civilization here. “So, to get a rental car to get back to Louisville, I need to go to Louisville.”
“Yeah. Doesn’t really sound like an idea, does it?” He laughed. “You could get a taxi or Uber back, but it would cost a good amount.” He left the comment open, as though waiting to see if she was the kind to pay a ton of money for convenience.
“Well, it doesn’t sound like I have a choice, does it?” The smile was gone, and her tone reverted back to the snappish one she never liked to hear coming out of her.
“I wouldn’t say that.” He cleared his throat slightly. “Rowan has plenty of extra rooms and isn’t far from your place. I don’t know what happened to set her off on the wrong boot, but she’s never been one to hold a grudge.”
Amber held the phone away from her and groaned before coming back on. “There are no rental places? No cabins, or cottages, or whatever they have here?”
“There are a couple, but they’ve probably been booked up for the festival this weekend. People come from all around.”
She waited, but he seemed to have said all he was going to say. “Christ. Fine. Can you call Rowan for me?”
He chuckled. “How about I text you her number, and you can ask her yourself? Seems better not to be the middleman between two women who could both kick my butt right outta Kentucky.”
She hung up and waited and when the number came in, she put her thumb over it to call but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Throughout the night, she’d gone over not only what she’d said, but also how she’d said it. And shame flooded her from her toes to her perfectly dyed hair. What had she been thinking, saying that kind of thing out loud? It was one thing to think it, but how incredibly arrogant she must have sounded. Grovel it is, she thought, and hit the number.
“Rowan.”
The sound of Rowan’s voice made her shiver. Husky and low, she could imagine her saying perfectly dirty things in her ear. “Um, hi. This is Amber.”
“Uh huh. What can I do for you?”
Fucking hell. This was far harder than she thought it would be. “Well, I’m at this motel, and Cornelius said there’s nowhere else to stay, but you might have space for me…”
It sounded like Rowan was a little breathless, and she didn’t respond for what felt like an eternity.
“You’re at the motel?” She grunted and swore softly. “Sorry. Got my hands full at the moment. Yeah. You can come back and stay here if it doesn’t offend your city girl sensibilities too much. There’s a diner about fifty yards to your left. Head on over there, and me or one of my crew will come pick you up soon as we can get free.”
Amber deserved the jab, and the relief she felt at being able to go back to Rowan’s clean, beautiful home outweighed her desire to argue. “Thank you, Rowan. I really appreciate it. I’ll be at the diner.”
“Yup.” Rowan hung up.
Amber rolled her bag behind her, trying to avoid puddles with rainbow oil slicks for the sake of both her luggage and her shoes, and opened the door to the diner. Her stomach rumbled loudly at the smell of bacon and maple syrup that was probably part of the upholstery. She hadn’t eaten meat in years, but the smell of bacon still made her salivate.
“Have a seat anywhere. Be right with you.” A woman with a tightly coiled bun, sensible white shoes, and a red and white checked shirt walked by with two plates full of pancakes.
Amber made her way to a booth at the very end so she could sit with her back to the wall and still be able to see the parking lot. She put her case on the opposite seat and rested her head against the booth. She tried to shut out the catastrophe that was her life.
“Looks like you need coffee.” The waitress put a ceramic mug down and raised her eyebrows.
“Latte with almond milk,” Amber said.
The waitress held up a pot. “Just coffee, darlin’.”
“Of course.” Amber took the menu and tried not to grimace at the sticky feel. “The pancakes you just served looked really good. No bacon though.”
“You got it.” She took the menu back. “Anyone joining you?” Her expression suggested people dressed like Amber, with a suitcase in tow, weren’t the norm.
“I’m waiting for a ride. Rowan said she’d be here soon.”
The waitress’s smile widened. “Well, any friend of Rowan’s is a friend of ours. She held a fundraiser for us a couple years ago when it looked like we might lose this place. Kept us going and then some.” She tilted her head, her smile slipping a little. “Didn’t know she had friends from out of state.”
“Oh no, we’re not friends.” Amber rolled her eyes. “I mean, we just met. I’ve come down to deal with a property left to me by my grandparents, and Rowan has been nice enough to help me out.” No need to tell the waitress that she’d insulted her multiple times already as well.
Understanding lit the waitress’s eyes. “Hold on. Let me get your order in.” She did as she said, then made a quick round of the few other occupied tables before she came back to Amber, who watched her the whole time, marveling at how easily she spoke to everyone and how she remembered everything they asked for. Had her own life ever been that smooth?
“Now.” She pushed Amber’s case farther along the booth and perched on the edge of the seat. “You’re the new owner of Honeysuckle. Is that what you’re saying?” When Amber nodded, she continued. “Your grandparents were fine people. Always in the middle of helping others, doing what they could for the community, making sure folks knew they mattered. Real fine. Shame about what happened with your ma.”
Amber swallowed the sudden ball of emotion in her throat. “Yeah. Shame.”
“You plan on doing anything with the land?” she asked. “I’m Fran, by the way. Don’t mean to be nosy…” She laughed and smacked the table. “That’s a downright lie. We’re all nosy neighbors around here.”
Amber gave her a weak smile. “I’m not sure about the house yet. The storm did a lot of damage. Cornelius and Rowan are helping me find people to fix it.” It wasn’t much of an answer, but she wasn’t about to go into detail with someone who’d probably tell the people at the next table over everything she’d said.
Fran looked up as another couple walked in. “Well, if you need any food delivered to the workers or such, you just say the word, and we'll get it done.” She squeezed Amber’s hand. “When you’ve got family from around here, you’re welcome to become one of us, you know.” She shot off and greeted the other people, quickly asking about their kids.
Amber stopped listening and shook her head as she scrolled through her phone. Become one of them? God forbid. The thought of living in a place where everyone knew who you were related to, who was bonking who, and who didn’t go to church last week was stifling all on its own. The actuality might kill her.
Fran slid the pancakes in front of her along with a huge bottle of maple syrup then topped up her coffee. “Enjoy. I’ll come back and keep you company soon as everyone is settled.”
Amber didn’t get the chance to say that wasn’t necessary, as Fran was off and serving again. The pancakes were fluffy and hot. She winced as she touched the maple syrup and used a napkin to pick it up, which stuck to it when she set it back down.
“Getting syrup on your fingers is one of the best parts.” Rowan slid into the booth opposite her and set Amber’s case beside the table. “Adds to the taste when you lick them clean after.”
Amber continued to chew, grateful that she needn’t respond to something that provocative. She set down her fork and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d get here so fast. We can go.”
Rowan held up her hand and settled back against the seat. “I may as well eat while we’re here. The pancake recipe is a family treasure they don’t let go of. Go on and eat. Mine will be here in a second.”
Amber picked up her fork again, glad she didn’t have to leave the excellent breakfast behind. “It sounded like you were busy when I called. Something bad?” It wouldn’t hurt to seem interested in Rowan’s affairs if they were going to get along.
“Nah. Just a horse being stubborn while getting its hooves trimmed. But one kicks you in the head, and you’re going to know it.” Rowan gave her a lopsided grin. “It’s better my staff don’t get kicked in the head.”
“Are you involved in everything there? I mean, you’re the owner, right? Don’t you have people to take care of all the grunt work?” There it was again, that sound in her voice that was going to make her an absolute pariah here. She’d have to work on it.
“There’s no grunt work on the farm, just work that has to get done.” She smiled at Fran when she set down the plate with an extra high stack of pancakes along with a bowl of chopped pecans and strawberries.
“Mine didn’t look like that,” Amber said, looking at her nearly empty plate.
“That’s ’cos I’m special.” Rowan winked and dug into her food.
Somehow, Amber had a feeling that was true, but she’d damn well never say it out loud. “Rowan, I’m sorry about yesterday. I was an absolute asshat, and while I’d like to say that isn’t my style, it totally is. But I’ll try to rein it in while I’m here.” Maybe it wasn’t much of an apology, but she’d never been very good at them.
Rowan nodded and continued to eat as she looked at Amber thoughtfully. “You never got to know your grandparents, did you?”
Surprised at the change of subject, Amber shook her head. “No. Honestly? My mom told me they were dead. It was only when I got the papers from Cornelius that I found out it wasn’t true.” She hesitated. “Fran said they were good people.”
“Mm.” Rowan swirled a strawberry through the syrup and brought it to her lips. Her tongue darted out to catch a drip.
Amber nearly fainted.
Rowan grinned like she knew exactly what she was doing and ate the strawberry. “They were real good people. That’s a hell of a thing to tell a child though. Do you know what they did at Honeysuckle?”
“No idea,” Amber said, her voice less steady than she’d like. “But the land isn’t covered by anything with hooves.” She thought back to her first time inside. “Cornelius said something about a garden, I think?”
Rowan sighed happily and pushed her empty plate away, then winked at Fran when she came over and quickly refilled her coffee before heading off again. “They did have cattle. Big herds. Some sheep too. Even a couple of ostriches for a while. They’re mean buggers though. Nearly took off your grandfather’s hand once. He got ten stitches in his thumb.” She held up her hand and wiggled it.
“So what happened?” Amber found herself interested despite the story being about animals and yard work.
“They got too old to do it.” Rowan shrugged. “Happens eventually. Farming is hard work. Physical labor that takes it all out of you some days. And although they had people to do the grunt work,” she gave Amber that half grin, “they didn’t like not being able to chip in. Eventually they sold off all the animals and turned to gardening. Like everything they did though, they didn’t mess around. They grew enough food to take to the shelter in the next town over and for the people around here who could use some extra.”
Amber frowned and played with her fork. They sounded like the epitome of good people. Not her people though. She wouldn’t know what to talk to those people about, related to her or not. Neither, apparently, did her mother.
“Well, I better get back.” Rowan stood and looked down at Amber’s case. “Want me to grab that? Just a bit easier for me to reach the truck bed, that’s all.”
Amber appreciated the clarification. “That would be great. Thank you.” Why did it feel like the words stuck in her teeth like shreds of toothpick?
Rowan threw some money on the table, and Amber dug in her bag for her wallet.
“Nope. Consider this your welcome to town breakfast.” Fran pulled Amber into a tight hug. “Welcome home."
Amber couldn’t do anything but give her a baffled smile and then followed Rowan to the truck. She looked over at Rowan when they got in, and Rowan laughed.
“You look like a cat faced by a racoon.” She started the truck and headed away from the diner.
“I’m…I’m not used to being hugged.” How weird did that sound?
Rowan gave her the side-eye. “As in by strangers? Or at all?”
“Who goes around hugging people all the time? God, please tell me you don’t do that.” Amber grimaced at the thought of having to hug more strangers. It didn’t matter that for a nanosecond, it had felt nice.
“I hug everyone. All my ranch hands. My dog. The horses. Hugs, hugs, hugs.” Rowan tapped her fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the country song playing.
“You’re making fun of me.” Amber crossed her arms and stared out the passenger window.
Rowan didn’t respond, and Amber assumed she was right. Okay, maybe she deserved it. She laughed softly. “I’m looking forward to hugging your dog again.”
“Shift gives the best hugs.” Rowan’s tone was warm, the way it had been when they’d first met. “Amber, I’m sorry this is such a trial for you.”
She looked over, once again surprised. “How can you say that when I’ve been such a bitch?”
Rowan winced. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? You’re under a lot of stress, and you’re in a new place where you don’t understand a lot of the customs. That’s bound to make anyone a little cranky. Specially after your house melted around you.”
Stunned at Rowan’s generosity of spirit, Amber crossed her arms a little tighter and looked away. How did you even respond to that kind of…nice? She blinked back the unwelcome tears. She’d just ignore it until she could get back to the world that didn’t care about her at all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Rowan punched her pillow. Again. She flipped over to face the wall, then flipped back the other way. Damn it all.
She got up, slipped on her thick robe and slippers, and headed downstairs. With Amber across the hall, there was no escaping thoughts of her, even in sleep. Shift groaned and jumped off the bed to follow, letting her know he wasn’t happy about the disturbance to his sleep. “You and me both, buddy.” She ruffled his head and got another groan in response.
She warmed a mug of water in the microwave and slipped a tea bag in. Cold seeped in above her slippers, and she turned to light the fire.
“Fuck me backwards into next year!” She jerked, her hand to her chest. “You’re a stealthy one.”
Amber held up her hands, her eyes wide. “Sorry! Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I couldn’t sleep and thought I’d get some water.” Her gaze drifted downward and stopped at Rowan’s slippers for a long moment before she began to laugh. She looked up. “Really?”
