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Authors: Brooklyn Taylor

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BOOK: BrokenHearted
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I know he could see I was hitting my breaking point. Maxwell had lost both his parents early on in his adult life, so I trusted that he knew what I was feeling. Or course, he didn’t leave trying to cut them out of his life as I had, though.

He gave me a pat on the shoulder and then finished what was left of his drink, trying to signal that the conversation was getting too serious by lifting his arm to get Ryann’s attention. He held up four fingers, and she busied herself preparing whatever his order was that she seemed to understand from across the bar.

“Sadie is waiting for me … If you want, we can get rid of her and go back to your place, pick up some more beer, and chill. Or we can go to mine, and I can beat your ass in some Grand Theft Auto?”

“Nah … I am going to down another drink and then head back to the hotel.”

I continue looking down at my drink trying to filter what he just said to me. And every bit of it was the truth. The truth hurt just as it always has.

A few minutes later, Ryann brought us some drinks along with Sadie, who was smiling from ear to ear as if I had held Max hostage and she hadn’t gotten to spend time with him.

Ryann laid out the drinks in front of us, waiting for everyone to take the small shot glasses.

They raise theirs for a toast and wait until I raise mine. Ryann smiles and looks right at me. “To life.”

I smile and drink the burning fluid down, thinking about how I had wasted so much of it.

Maybe I could kiss her, and she could ease some of my aching … a kiss wasn’t love … it was just a kiss. And she was worth kissing. I just wasn’t a good enough man to kiss her. She didn’t know that yet, though. I closed my eyes to think about it for a minute and pretend I remembered what it felt like to want to feel a woman on my lips, a woman I liked. And I did like what I knew of her, but that really wasn’t much.

Ryann takes our shot glasses and goes back to the bar.

Max and Sadie talk to me for a few minutes, and then I stand up, excusing myself. “I am outta here, man.”  Max and I meet our hands in our handshake, and I head to the restrooms before making my walk home. 

When I walk out of the restroom, I see Ryann waiting.

“Trevor …”

“Yeah.”

I lean over her with my arm over her head as she is standing next to the hall wall decorated with pictures of people who had visited the bar over all the years. Austin City Limits performers who had come into Smith’s.

She immediately freezes and looks me in the eyes.

“I just wanted to tell you I am really sorry about your father. He … seems to be a really nice guy, and it is just a shame—”

“Thank you, Ryann.”

I hold my position and move in closer to her lips. I watch as they quiver slightly, begging me to kiss her. Or maybe she is frightened that I am going to kiss her. One and the same.

I lightly graze her lips and stop right before applying full pressure. My body begs me to kiss her hungrily and pull her body closer to mine, grabbing her ass that I know would fit perfectly in my hands. I need something to ease my pain. Perhaps some of the sweetness could smother my meanness. I hoped but wasn’t counting on it.

I could hear her breathing and was getting hard listening to my rapid pulse from the adrenaline surging through my body.

I touch her hair with my fingers and then listen to her exhale in relief.

I move a little farther from her, and she smiles nervously.

“I thought you were going to kiss me.” She takes a deep breath.

“And if I did …” I answer without thinking it through.

She says nothing, but her face lights up with happiness. Unsure happiness. And I lower my arm to set her free.

She walks back to the bar, and I watch her, not letting my eyes off her for a minute.

I smile and knew I had one last thing to say. I stand at the end of the bar. “Ryann?”

She walks to me. “Yeah.”

“If I wanted to kiss you, I would kiss you. And I wouldn’t do it drunk.” I wink and walk out of the bar not thinking of anything else but her smile and the smell of coconut on her hair.

I felt alive for a short while until I walked back in the hotel room and heard my mother’s voice on my voicemail. The little beating of happiness that my heart had was gone when I heard her shaking voice. Another reminder of my broken heart
.

Seven

Ryann

The James’ were always very good to my aunt Jackie, and they had a great working relationship not to mention friendship. They were passionate about something together, and that was huge to me.

As tough as my aunt Jackie pretended to be, she was the biggest chicken when it came to hospitals. Maybe she was afraid they were going to lock her in one. Instead, she asked that I go, and I was happy to oblige.

I made a trip to St. Luke’s today to visit Mr. James after Jackie had said he was admitted. I didn’t know much about him, but I knew he wasn’t doing well. I believe Jackie’s exact words were “at death’s door.” She wasn’t anything if she wasn’t blunt and almost cold with her manner. What a horrible expression, if you ask me. Jackie doesn’t do hospitals. In fact, she has only been three times in her entire life, and one of those was when I met her after the horse had kicked her. She only came that time because of the insistence of the person who saw it at her stables and feared she would have a brain embolism and die in her sleep.

Anyway, I walk around the gift shop, never wanting to go in a room empty handed. I look around and see tons of items I would never buy for a man like Mr. James. He was an old rancher, not a man who would enjoy foo-foo gifts, so I settled on a pack of playing cards.

I knock lightly on the door, peeking around the door before entering. Mrs. James is leaning over, whispering to him. They seem to be in deep conversation, making me feel like an intruder.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. James. I’m sorry to interrupt. I can come back another time if it would be better,” I state, ready to take my leave.

“Don’t be silly, dear,” Mrs. James said. “Come on in. Whatcha got there?” She smiles pointing at the cards in my hand.

Mr. James looks my way. He has an oxygen mask strapped to his face and wires hooked to him. He looks like a robot.

“I brought a pack of cards. Kinda silly but just knowing how Mr. James is, I didn’t think he would want a stuffed animal or flowers.” And he laughs. It was a good sound until he began to cough.

“You are right about that,” he answers.

Mrs. James pats the empty chair beside the bed and invites me to sit next to her.

“I know you are too busy to come to the hospital, sweetie,” she says.

“I just wanted to come by and see how you both were doing,” I say.

“For Jackie?” she asks. Clearly, she knows my aunt well.

“That old hard ass wouldn’t come here on her own death bed.” Mr. James chuckles.

“I am afraid you are right about that, sir,” I agree.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, looking him in the eye.

“Could be better, could be worse. I woke up this morning, and I am breathing. That is about all I can ask for.” He smiles genuinely, and Mrs. James does the same. The love between them is a gift, and it beams.

“How long have y’all two been married?”

She laughs. “I have put up with this grump for forty years.”

“I have put up with you for forty years.” He smirks and then winks.

“That is rare these days, isn’t it?” I ask.

“Not when you find the one, it isn’t. I knew the minute I saw this stubborn ass that I was going to love him. And I was right.” She takes his hand and holds it. He brings it to his lips and kisses it.

“Love of my life, for sure.”

I start to stand up to leave and head to work.  “I just wanted to stop by and check on you.  I see you are doing great, and Jackie will be glad to hear that.”

I hand Mrs. James the cards. “Maybe you can beat him in some gin or something?”

“Thank you, sweetie. That is very sweet of you. I wish that my Trevor would find a—”

I cut her off, ignoring my manners.

“Well, I had better get going … Gotta get to work.” Whew. Talk about dodging a bullet. I wasn’t going to get involved in that.

“Don’t be a stranger, you hear?” Mr. James says as I walk away from his bed.

“No sir, I won’t. I will pray for a quick recovery for you. Take care.”

And I walk out. Damn near sprint. Right into Mr. Intense.

Trevor

I step off the elevator at my arrival on the second floor still trying to get used to St. Luke’s Hospital. Really, all hospitals are the same. Some nicer, some not so nice, but the layout is generally the same.

I immediately spot Ryann walking toward me, and I freeze.

My hands are full, and I am thankful I have something to keep my hands busy. I have not been able to get her off my mind—out of my mind—no matter how hard I’ve tried.

“Ryann?” I look shocked because I am. She keeps appearing in my life when I don’t expect it, brightening my day although I wouldn’t acknowledge it.

“Trevor.” She says my name sweetly as I meet her in the hallway.

“What are you doing here?” I ask puzzled.

“I came to check on your parents.”

“I underestimated you,” I mumble and realize right after I said it that it wasn’t going to make her happy. It really wasn’t true either because she had been nothing but kind to me. After the words left my mouth, I wonder why I said that.

“Why would you underestimate me? I have been nothing but nice to you and your family.  I have been going out to your family stables for months now, and your parents have been nothing but nice and caring to me.”

“I didn’t mean it the way it came out.” I roll my eyes, frustrated at her anger. “All I meant is not a lot of people go out of their way to care when it isn’t their own family.”

She moves right in my face and looks me right in my eyes. Her eyes sparkle as they always do, but the shirt she is wearing today makes them look more crystal.  Her smell … she smells exactly like what I remember her smelling like before. It was quickly becoming my favorite smell. Coconut. I am not a person often mesmerized or rendered speechless, but Ryann was making it an art of hers.

I wait for what she was going to say, possibly holding my breath. “Let me give you a little advice. Don’t ever underestimate me.” Then she turns and enters the elevator.

I say nothing but shake my head, making my way to my parents’ room and kicking myself for a comment that should have never been spoken. 

I was curious as to how her visit with my parents went. But I was more and more curious about Ryann.

*****

Two weeks later

My father finally kicked the bout of pneumonia thanks to antibiotics and rest.  He was finally well enough to go home, and at the very least, I wanted him more comfortable. Don’t get me wrong—he was still a very sick man, and he knew it. Just the look in his eyes proved he was aware but doing the best he could.

              Dad finally agreed to the hospital bed at the house only because Mother refused to take him home without it.  I knew even though he hesitated that he was glad to have it. Mom was exhausted and refused any help, insisting she was capable and resisting the help others offered.

I got them settled and was going to run into town to get some food so Mom wouldn’t have to worry about it when I heard a knock at the door.

“I’m coming!” I holler toward the door making my way to it.

Ryann. She was standing there with a big pot in her hands.

“I made some homemade vegetable soup for your parents. I’m sure they are exhausted, and this soup always does wonders.”

I stood watching her, wary of the reason for her kindness. She looked at me with frustration, trying to determine why I was looking at her as if she had three heads.

“Can you give me some help?” She rolls her eyes at me as if I should have known. I take the pot she was holding and go to the kitchen.

“What do we have here?” Mom asked.

“Hi, Mrs. James. I brought you some vegetable soup. I figured you wouldn’t feel like cooking and thought it might help—”

Mom brought her in for a hug, and I could see the relief on her face. “Ryann, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” She slowly releases her from a hug. “Sit and eat some with me.”

I look back at Mom, frustrated that she was asking her to stay.

“Don’t you look at me that way, Trevor Evan James. And get the bowls and spoons.”

I meet them back at the table, and they start to serve the soup that smells far better than anything I consumed since my last meal here.

Conversation was easy between my mother and Ryann, and I could see she was enjoying the time with her. Ryann had her laughing, and it was a delight to see. They laughed over stories of riding horses and her aunt Jackie.

“Do you mind if I go out and see Henry and Sunshine before I leave? I have to head into town here in a couple of hours for work but—”

“Of course, dear.  Trevor can take care of the dishes, and you go ahead out and pay a visit.”

They continue to talk as I cleared the table and washed the dishes. Listening to Ryann’s voice, I smile and catch myself doing it before making the expression leave. She was unique, no doubt about it. If only I had met her before I was …

I feel a hand on my back and realize I must have zoned out.

“When you get done with those, can you run out and just make sure she is okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I knew exactly what she was up to. That meddling ol’ woman. It wasn’t lost on me, though, that she saw something in Ryann just as I did. Not sure if it was the same thing but it was something.

My mother had never been a fan of any girl I brought home, not that I was bringing Ryann home. Dad told me as a younger man that it was because no one would be good enough for her son, but really, I know now that Mom is just a damn good judge of character.

Far better than I was.

I refrained from getting myself in that situation for years now and was successful at it until coming home.

 

 

 

Ryann

I stand at Henry and Sunshine’s stall quietly thinking over the meal with Mrs. James and how sweet she was. I kept taking in glimpses of Trevor as he was looking over at me while pretending not to. It’s a shame he is an ass the majority of the time because whether he wants to admit it, he has a soft side. I’ve seen it several times. There has to be much more to his story that made him so resistant, so cold, and so closed off. I was more curious as to why he wouldn’t want to be here … this amazing place. The pieces were starting to fall into place but far more seemed to be going on.  And then I might find out things I didn’t want to know.

I am petting Sunshine and just letting myself get lost in thoughts when I see a shadow. I turn to see Trevor standing behind me watching me.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Absolutely. This is one of my favorite places.”

“Can’t say I have ever felt the same.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Jackie told me a long time ago that the stables have been here for years.”

“Yeah, it has been in my family for centuries.”

“That is a true blessing.”

“Is it?”

Okay, so today he is snarky. Fabulous.

“Your father has saved all these horses.”

He grunts.

“Well, I guess everyone needs saving, huh?” He says this in an asshole tone and not the sweet one he had at the hospital.

“Let me make one thing clear. I sure as hell don’t need saving,” I state and feel the anger building. “And in your profession, isn’t that what you do? What you love to do? Save people? That isn’t any different from what your father has done.”

“What does that mean?” His expression is getting just as irritated as I was.

“These horses come here and have never done a damn thing to get the treatment they have. All they need is love and a chance.”

“So you are comparing horses to people? That is a bit moronic, wouldn’t you say?”

“No, I don’t say. It is still a life.”

“Oh, God.” He rolls his green eyes.

“These horses are broken and just need some help. What can you say for yourself?”  Realizing I was most likely taking it too far, I wanted to pull back the words from the air just as they came out of my mouth without a bit of thought.

He walked up to me, stomping as if he was pissed, and I had the good sense to move back. But one thing was for sure—I knew he wouldn’t lay a hand on me. He may be a hothead sometimes, but I knew he would never hurt me. I sensed it, and I knew an abuser.

He was close enough to hear a whisper from his lips. “I am broken, Ryann. And help is not what I need nor do I want.”

“Who isn’t broken?” I respond showing my lack of sympathy in my tone. And I would be lying if I didn’t say I wanted to bring his lips to mine.  I was not lost on the very thought that I wanted him to save me. Just as I swore I didn’t.  “You don’t want saving? Well, I don’t need it, either. I am just as good about being closed off as you are, but at least I’m not missing out on life.”  Two broken hearts don’t make a full one, that is for damn sure.

He didn’t say anything in response, and I think that hurt more than him fighting back at me. His face spoke volumes, though. Enough for me to know that I was right.

BOOK: BrokenHearted
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