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Three
Clint
I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away for long. The pull toward Tamara was too strong, even though I knew that shit was wrong. She wasn’t here to find a man or to be in my bed with my dick stroking her insides. She was here to find a safe space to hide. To get away from her asshole ex-husband. So what the fuck was I thinking?
That was the problem. I wasn’t. My dick was thinking for me, and it was about to get me in some trouble I couldn’t get out of.
Making my way to Serenity, I slipped on some gloves as I rubbed her flank. “I’m here, girl. Let me just see how you’re doing,” I spoke to her softly. I’d raised her since she was a foal. Her brown coat had flecks of white, somewhat resembling a doe. Laughing lightly, I couldn’t believe I was being sentimental and poetic. Where the hell was that coming from?
Squatting in front of the horse, I ran my hands along her front leg, feeling for any sign of swelling. Although I felt nothing, I wanted to be careful with how much exercise she had over the next few days. I’d let the guys know that no one should ride her for the next week as I monitored her.
Standing, I stripped off the gloves, throwing them to the side, and walked outside when my phone rang. Looking at the screen, I paused before answering. I was hoping I had a few more minutes before I had to return to the house. Maybe I deserved Brandon’s smirks and laughter because this was not me. I never ran from a challenge, and I sure as shit didn’t run from women.
I needed to shake this shit off because I needed to be on my A-game. If something, or someone, came on my property to cause trouble or grab the woman inside my home, I couldn’t be distracted by my feelings or my desire to fuck her silly. That wasn’t how I operated.
The phone rang again, and this time I picked up. “Yeah?”
“Lunch is ready,” Gladys said through the other end. “Come on up to the house and eat something before it gets cold.”
“I’m not really hungry,” I clipped back at her. I wasn’t worried about her getting upset. She’d worked for my family for over thirty years and been with me ever since Sammy’s mother passed away when he was just a baby.
“Don’t play with me. Get your butt to this house. Not only are you not going to waste this food I made, but you have a guest in your home. Someone sent to you by that crazy crew you run with. Someone who needs to feel safe, who needs to know that this is the right place for her.”
No one else spoke to me like this except for my family. And after thirty years, she’d earned that right ten times over. Lifting my head to the sky, I took a deep breath and briefly closed my eyes. “Gladys… There’s something about her.” Why was I sharing this with Gladys? I didn’t really know. But if I didn’t get the words out, I was going to lose my mind.
“Something like what?” She asked.
“I… I don’t know. Just give me a few minutes. I’ll come in for lunch, but I need to calm down.”
“Clint?” The worry in her tone came through loud and clear.
When Janet passed away seven years ago, she was the one who picked me up from the ground. Gladys and my mom took turns watching Sammy, giving him the love and care I was incapable of providing at the time. My grief at losing my wife, my best friend, had been too much. One day, you’re living life with your entire future ahead of you, and the next moment, everything you thought you needed was torn away from you in the blink of an eye.
When my mom passed away a few years ago from breast cancer, Gladys took it just as hard as I did. They’d been inseparable for most of my life. In all those years, Gladys never married and never had kids. I’d asked her about it once when I was a teenager. She told me when the good Lord saw fit to give her a man who was worthy of her, then she’d get married. I sometimes wondered if being here with us, taking care of our family, had caused her to miss out on a different life.
“It’s okay, Gladys. I’m fine. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Hanging up, I walked a little further out into the field overlooking the house and other buildings. The last time I felt a connection this strong was when I met Janet. I was fifteen; she was fourteen. At the time, I had no idea what the jolt of electricity meant when she touched my arm after bumping into me in the hallway of our school. All I knew was that I had to be around her, touch her, kiss her. She was my first love, my first kiss, my first everything.
And then I lost her.
After all these years, no one else had affected me the way Janet had. Until today. When I looked into Tamara’s eyes, I felt that same jolt of electricity. It scared the shit out of me. There was no way in hell I was following that white rabbit down any fucking hole. Not this time. I knew what real heartbreak felt like, and I’d never put myself in that position again. If that meant I needed to stay out in these fields all day, every day, while she was here, then I would.
I’d just have to bring Sammy out here with me when he finished his schoolwork. Part of my new path was spending every waking moment I could with my son. Guilt was a helluva thing, and I was dealing with a whole heap of that shit. After I finally awakened from my grief over losing Janet, six months had passed. My son had stopped reaching for me after being rejected so many times. When he cried, he called out for Gladys or my mom. When he was proud of something he did, I wasn’t the person he came to. I’d been so focused on my grief that I’d forgotten about my son.
I’d already served four years in the Marines when Janet and I got married and went another four years during our early years. She never complained about the times I was gone. She stayed with my family if I had to leave for more than thirty days. I admit, my family’s wealth gave us more flexibility than others. I would never apologize for that because it was simply a part of my life. When I finished my second enlistment, we came home for good. It was going to be our time to simply be a couple. To love. To raise a family.
“FUCK!”
My outburst caused some birds nesting in a tree to take flight. The hurt was still there. Maybe I still hadn’t gotten over losing her. I’d become an expert at hiding my pain and what I was feeling, except for today. I looked over my shoulder at the house. I knew Tamara was inside. She was probably worried that she was unwelcome. She wasn’t. This was all on me.
“Shit. Janet, what the hell am I going to do now?” Some people may find it odd that I talked to my dead wife, but I didn’t. I could still feel her presence around me when I needed her or when struggling with feelings of overwhelm. There’d been a few times over the years when I’d been in a sticky situation with a client or on a mission. The whisper of her voice in my mind saved me from walking into a situation that would have me in a world of hurt.
This time, there was no answer. I wonder if she felt a bit pissed off that I was reacting this way to a woman I’d just met? Shaking my head, I knew that wasn’t the case. She’d answer me in her own time. I was sure of it. Removing my hat, I ran my fingers through my hair. A nervous tic I’d picked up over the years before looking over my shoulder again. “Might as well get this over with. What’s the worst that can happen?”
Turning around, I made my way back down. I don’t know what the hell Gladys cooked, but it smelled delicious. If asked, I could blame my fast walk toward the house on just being hungry and ready to eat. It had nothing to do with the woman waiting for me inside.
Walking through the front door, the first sound to hit me was laughter. Gladys, Brandon, and her. Tamara.
Placing my hat on the table near the door, I walked into the large kitchen where we usually ate breakfast and lunch. The scene in front of me stopped me cold. Tamara was sitting at the table, her eyes bright with humor as she focused on Gladys.
