Chapter 21 Cal
TWENTY-ONE
CAL
In the morning, I took a quick shower in Amy’s bathroom and headed for the living room.
I considered trying to make it look as though I’d slept on the couch, but I decided that I wasn’t into that kind of deception.
While I stood there debating, my eyes fell on a wedding portrait hanging on the wall.
I’d noticed it on a previous visit but hadn’t looked closely. I took a moment to study the picture.
Amy looked beautiful in a white dress standing next to her husband, both of them smiling.
The photo was taken on a beach with the sunset behind them.
Amy said she’d gone to school in Los Angeles and I tried to figure out which beach that might be.
The only one that came to mind was Malibu, but I’d never been there, so I couldn’t say for sure.
Luke’s arm was around her waist, in a possessive gesture.
I shouldn’t feel jealous of a dead man, but for a moment I did.
Even though I’d slept most of the night in Amy’s bed, she wasn’t mine.
Everything between us was temporary and overshadowed by her dead husband.
I hadn’t been thinking that while making love to her, and I hoped she hadn’t been either.
No, I was sure she’d been focused on me since she’d whispered my name over and over.
A wave of guilt hit me. Was I stealing something that should have been my brother’s?
I didn’t want to go there, so I moved on to the kitchen where I started making breakfast for the family.
I was cracking eggs into a bowl to make batter for French toast—I was good at making breakfast—when the shattering of glass made me spin around. Laura stood there, her hand over her heart and a broken drinking glass at her feet.
“I thought you were Luke,” she said before I could react. She was breathing heavily and her face had gone white.
“Sorry,” I said, moving toward her, afraid that she might collapse onto the glass-covered tile floor. “Be careful now.” I glanced down to make sure she had slippers on and led her to the kitchen island where I pulled out a stool for her. “I’ll clean up.”
“I can do it,” she said, but I didn’t want her moving when she still looked so shaken.
“Let me. It’s my fault you broke it.” I found a broom and dustpan to sweep up the shards, which gave Laura a chance to recover.
“What are you doing here so early?” she asked after I’d put a cup of coffee in front of her.
“I brought Amy home late and was too tired to drive back to town, so I crashed on the couch. I’m making breakfast as a sort of thank you for being an unexpected houseguest.”
“That’s nice of you.” Laura seemed to be recovering. “Luke would never have cooked for us. He didn’t like to do things that he saw as domestic—he called it women’s work.”
I frowned at that. When we were kids, my parents made sure both my sister and I knew how to do all the basics—from cooking to cleaning to repairs around the house. The very idea that someone wouldn’t be willing to pitch in to help out didn’t make sense to me.
Part of me thought I shouldn’t reply, just keep the silence companionable, but I wanted to know about the man. Amy never said much, and I wanted to know more about him and their marriage. I couldn’t stop myself from prying for information.
“What was Luke like?” I asked, keeping my tone casual. Laura might assume I was just curious about the brother I’d never known.
While I battered the bread, put it on the griddle and fried bacon, I listened to a mother’s reminiscence of her dead son. At first, her words seemed pulled from the depths of her, but she soon warmed to the subject and was happy to keep talking.
“He was a born leader,” she said. “Always the first to do anything. At school, at home, it didn’t matter.
He had that kind of personality that attracted others to him.
Charming is the word, I guess. He applied that charm to everyone from his kindergarten teacher to the college scouts who came to watch him play football, which is how he got into USC. ”
“Sounds like a great guy,” I commented.
“He was. Marshall would let him sit in front of him in the saddle when Luke was just a toddler, and they’d go down to the lake every evening.
The boy was a born horseman. Luke was so sure Henry would follow in his footsteps that he bought him a pony for his first birthday.
” Laura stopped and stared into her coffee, and I realized that Luke had never gotten to see his son ride King.
I could almost feel the sorrow coming off Laura, and it made my heart ache for her and Amy and Henry.
“He loved Amy so much,” Laura said after a minute of silence.
“When he called us from college to tell us that Amy was pregnant and they were getting married, I worried that they were rushing into it. I was wrong about that. They suited each other and were so happy. I saw in them what I had with Marshall, a kind of love that was meant to last for a lifetime.”
I felt a weight on my chest. Could Amy ever be satisfied with another man after Luke?
She’d seemed pleased with my lovemaking in the night and content to sleep with me, but did her heart still belong to her dead husband?
Was a physical relationship all she had to offer?
Could I ever measure up in Amy’s eyes? I had no idea, nor could I stop all the questions swirling around in my head.
Breakfast was nearly ready when Amy entered the kitchen with Henry at her side.
She was dressed casually, and her hair was still damp from the shower.
When she smiled at me, I tried to push aside the worries I had about forming a relationship with her.
It might be foolish to get involved with her…
but foolish or not, I still didn’t want to walk away.
“Uncle Cal.” Henry rushed toward me and put his arms around my waist in a hug.
“Hey, buddy. How you doing?” I asked as I rubbed my hand over the boy’s head.
“Just great. What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Well, I thought I’d make breakfast for y’all this morning. How do you feel about some French toast and bacon?”
Henry rubbed his stomach and smacked his lips. “I think that sounds like a great breakfast. When will it be ready?”
I chuckled at his enthusiasm and watched him climb up onto a stool to watch me work. While I finished cooking breakfast, Henry talked about his first grade class and what they were learning.
“I already know how to read, so I’ve got to wait until the other kids catch up,” Henry complained as he watched me place the slices of French toast on a platter.
“Maybe you could ask your teacher for some books to keep you busy.” I switched off the griddle. “I’ve always got a book handy.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll do that. Can I carry that?” Henry pointed to the platter.
“Sure thing.” I placed it carefully in the boy’s hands and sent him toward the table.
When I looked up, I caught a smile and a nod from Amy. She didn’t comment, but I felt that she approved of how I treated her son.
“Morning.” Jake entered the kitchen from the back door, clearly coming from the barn. He went straight to the coffee pot and filled a mug. He swung around and shot me a look that said, what the hell are you doing here?
“Let’s eat,” Amy said, picking up the plate of bacon and following Henry. “It smells delicious.”
“Right behind you,” I said. Jake could question me later if he wanted to, but not in front of Henry.
We all took the same spots at the table as we had at other meals, which put Jake at my left.
While I focused most of my attention on Henry, I could still feel my brother’s eyes on me throughout the meal.
Jake didn’t appear to be buying the it-was-late-and-I-crashed-on-the-couch story.
Amy picked up on the tension and soon odd looks were shooting around the table.
Only Laura and Henry seemed oblivious to the tension.
“Thanks for cooking,” Jake said as he stood up after finishing his breakfast. “I need to check on Star; she was favoring her left foreleg yesterday. I’d appreciate your opinion.” Jake focused his gaze on me.
“Happy to take a look,” I said, standing up.
I wasn’t a vet, but I’d seen more than my fair share of horse injuries on the rodeo circuit.
Not that that really mattered. I seriously doubted the trip to the barn had anything to do with checking a horse.
I understood the invitation for what it was.
“I’ll be out as soon as I clean up the dishes. ”
“We’ll get those,” Laura said. “You boys go on.”
With a nod to everyone at the table, I followed Jake outside. I worried about the palpable silence while we walked to the barn. I was a little surprised to see there really was a horse with a potential problem—a lovely little chestnut mare with a white star on her forehead.
She was standing in her stall munching on the remains of a late breakfast and favoring her left leg, just as Jake had said. “All right if I enter her stall?” I still wasn’t quite sure if Jake actually wanted me to look at the horse.
“Well, unless you can see what’s wrong from here. Otherwise, I’d go into her stall.” The dryness of Jake’s response wasn’t lost on me and I dropped my head and chuckled.
“Hey there, little lady. Aren’t you just the prettiest,” I crooned to the mare.
“She’s gorgeous. One of your breeders?” Unlike the larger operations that capitalized on quantity over quality, the Thornes had a small-scale breeding operation that catered to a specific clientele. I really liked that about them.
“She is. Was hoping to breed her with a stallion I have in mind, but she started limping a couple days ago and it doesn’t look like it’s getting better,” Jake said. He took his hat off to rub his head before seating it again.