Chapter 2 #2
His grin widened. “Hey, how’d you know that?
That’s cool. There have always been rumors you could read people’s minds.
Wish I could do it. I’m not sure I’d have that kind of control.
My mother said men don’t start making good decisions until they’re close to fifty.
And she said when they’re with other men that they never make good decisions, so it’s probably best you’re the one with the powers. ”
She forced a smile, but felt the blood drain from her face. She’d completely let down her guard.
“No, sorry to disappoint you,” she stuttered out. “I—I must’ve overheard it somewhere. Maybe from Sloane.”
He looked at her skeptically. “It’s okay, you know.
We’ve been in and out of each other’s pockets for a lot of years now.
I’d have to be completely clueless to not notice you’re a little—different—than other girls.
There was that time you practically threw a fit to keep all of us home that day we wanted to go to the lake.
We boys ditched you and Sloane to play hide-and-go-seek out in the barn. We were so mad at you.”
Her smile was sad as she looked out over Laurel Valley. There was so much land out there, so much world. She spent a lot of time living in those other worlds in her head, just to escape.
“We didn’t find out until that night that a big tree had fallen in the lake and washed downstream with the current, taking three kids with it. It took the search and rescue team two days to find their bodies. That could’ve been us. Except you saved us.”
“Three people still died.” She hadn’t been able to see that there would be other deaths.
“You can’t save everyone. That’s a burden no one should have to bear.”
The butterflies in her stomach turned to boulders and she closed her eyes as the breeze ruffled her hair and cooled the sweat on her skin.
“Rumors are usually just that,” she finally said, wanting nothing more than to put her two feet on solid ground again. “You should know by now you can’t believe everything you hear. Especially in Laurel Valley.”
“Marnie,” he said softly.
She turned to face him, only to realize too late how close he was. Inches separated them and her gaze locked with his. The Ferris wheel had stopped just shy of the highest point, and the lights from the other rides flashed shadows across his face.
“You can always trust me,” he whispered.
She felt the breath of his words against her lips. Her palms dampened and her stomach turned flips. And then his lips touched hers and her eyelids fluttered closed. Colors of every hue exploded behind her eyelids and her pulse raced.
She’d felt his touch during the brief vision she’d had—but nothing could compare to the reality of his lips against hers. The softness. The tingle that spread to her very core—her first kiss—and it far surpassed any expectation or dream.
When they broke apart Marnie’s heart was racing and she stared at him with equal parts shock and wonder.
And she saw just a glimpse into Beckett’s mind before she gained control and left him his privacy.
But it was enough to know that he’d been just as affected as she had, and that he was determined to take things slow.
Very slow. He cared about her. About her feelings and that she was inexperienced.
It was enough of a glimpse to realize that she’d have to be the one to move things to the next stage. He was giving her the control.
Her lips felt swollen and tingled. And then she realized the car had come to a stop and they were back at the bottom where they’d started, and the attendant was unhooking the latch to let them out.
Beckett helped her down the steps and she was surprised to realize her legs were unsteady.
She didn’t have any words—anything to say to fill the gaps—and she felt completely out of her element.
If she were like some of the other girls she might be able to smile or flirt or laugh, but there was only a soul-quenching knowledge that something had changed irrevocably in her life.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Beckett said solemnly.
He took her hand and led her to the other side of the fairgrounds, toward the barricades that had been erected to divide the carnival from the makeshift parking lot they’d set up in another part of the grassy field.
The lot was scattered with cars and the area was empty of people.
She couldn’t lie to him. Not with her feelings so close to the surface. “I’ve wanted you to do that for a long time,” she admitted. “Why’d you wait so long?”
He grinned and said, “I could never tell if you liked me. You’re always so serious.
But every once in a while, I’d see you out of the corner of my eye—those big brown eyes watching me closely—and then you’d look away if I turned to you.
But the blush across your cheeks was all I needed to see to know that maybe you were thinking of me like I was thinking of you. ”
“It just always seemed so impossible,” she said, not denying his observations. “You’re away at school, and I’m—” She was going to say nobody, but she caught herself before the word could leave her mouth.
“It’s Laurel Valley. It’s our roots. The separation is only temporary,” he said. “We can make this work. We’ve got the whole summer before I’ve got to go back to school. And when you leave for college maybe you’ll find a place where the distance isn’t so bad.”
She could see the excitement in his eyes. Beckett was a planner. It came with ranch life. You always thought ahead to the next season and what needed to be accomplished.
The smile slowly left her face as she realized her future was not one that could include Beckett. Not even for a short while. It wasn’t fair to him to give him the illusion. She had to escape her father. And there’d be no Laurel Valley in her future.
The vision she’d had earlier flashed through her mind once more.
The way they lay entangled on a blanket beneath the stars, their naked bodies sliding together with familiarity.
Her cry of pleasure and his shout of triumph as the ecstasy built to a peak.
And then it fizzled like a candle at the end of its wick.
“Beckett,” she whispered sadly, her hand coming up to touch his face.
And then he leaned down and kissed her again.
This time was just as sweet, and the taste of him went straight to her head.
His lips became bolder and she felt his tongue slip into her mouth.
Her hands moved from his face to the back of his neck and she moved against him, enjoying the new sensations of his body pressing against hers.
“Marnie!” a familiar voice sounded in the distance.
She jerked back as if she’d been doused with cold water and looked around frantically, searching for that voice that always struck fear into her heart. Her first thought was to push Beckett behind her. Her daddy would kill him.
“You need to go right now,” she said to Beckett. “Go and don’t look back.”
“I’m an adult, Marnie. I can take responsibility for my actions,” he said, trying to soothe her. “He’s got every right to be upset. You’re his daughter.”
She caught sight of him just past the barricade, standing next to his old pickup truck, the red tip of his cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Harley didn’t look upset. He looked murderous.
“Marnie, you little tramp,” he yelled. “You get over here now. If I have to come get you you’ll regret it.”
Embarrassment heated her cheeks at the way her father spoke. “You don’t understand,” she said to Beckett, pushing him back another step. “He’ll kill you. Just go before you make things worse.”
Beckett stopped and stared at her then—a long, slow, dissecting stare that made her feel too exposed.
“Just go, please,” she begged.
“How long has this been going on? Does Sloane know? Why hasn’t anyone done anything?”
“Because it’s nobody’s business. Besides, who’s going to do anything about it?” she asked, the resentment she’d felt her whole life sneaking out. “My own mother would back him up. Sometimes the only thing to do is survive until you can escape.”
“I’m not going to leave you alone. Is there somewhere you can go? To the O’Haras?”
“There’s no point. He’d just hurt them too.” There was no point being angry at Beckett. He was just trying to help. “I know how to deal with him.”
“I’m not leaving you,” he repeated. “We’ll deal with him together.”
Harley stood in front of his truck and the lights from the carnival cast eerie shadows across his body. He was a big man—you had to be to tackle steers or get bulls to cooperate—and his hair was sandy and thin on top. He flicked out his cigarette onto the ground and didn’t bother stamping it out.
Before she could protest further, Beckett took her hand and pulled her straight into the lion’s den.
“You’re the Hamilton boy,” Harley said as they approached.
She could smell the whiskey on him from where she stood. It wasn’t like him to be out in a crowded place like the fair. Once Duffey kicked him out of the bar he almost always went home to sleep it off. But something about this time was different.
“Yes, sir. I am,” Beckett answered warily. He’d smelled the whiskey too and caution eased into his voice. “I was just about to take Marnie home. My car is just over there.”
“Don’t lie to me, boy,” Harley spat. “You think because she spreads her legs for you that you have some kind of right to her? I’m sure all the boys feel the same way. She’s always been wicked. That girl’s got the devil inside of her. Nothing but trouble and a burden to her mama and me.”
Marnie stayed silent. It never did any good to argue, and it was the same speech she’d heard hundreds of times in her life.
“That seems doubtful, sir,” Beckett said. “Like I said, I was just going to take her home.”