Games of the Heart (40 page)

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Authors: Kristen Ashley

BOOK: Games of the Heart
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Shit!

“Dang,” I muttered, “he mentioned that.”

Her head tipped to the side and her perfectly arched dark brows drew together, “He did?”

I looked into her eyes and confirmed, “He did.”

“So, um…
when
he did, did he seem, uh…
firm?

“Yes,” I told her honestly then grinned. “But, you know, a car date is one thing,” I stated thinking, for Fin, it wasn’t a car date but a truck date, a truck with a bench seat date which no way in hell would Mike approve of, “but, have you done your homework?”

She blinked then her face closed down.

“No, I should be doin’ it now but –”

I cut her off. “Well, seeing as Fin is a couple years older than you, if you brought your books over, you had any questions, he might be able to help you out.”

Her eyes held mine and I watched light dawn.

It was a beautiful thing.

Then a slow smile spread across her beautiful face.

That was gorgeous.

“And,” I went on, “you both have to eat and you live nearly right next door to each other. Rhonda’s a good cook. So am I. So is your Dad. Bet you’d like our cooking and Fin would like your Dad’s.”

I watched her gorgeous smile get more gorgeous.

“And,” I kept going, “you both have televisions and I bet you both watch them. No reason you both couldn’t watch them together.”

“Yeah, I have to eat and I watch TV all the time,” she confirmed.

“There you go,” I replied then immediately stood up and invited, “Let’s go see what Fin’s doing. He may have time to help with homework.”

Her smile got huge. I returned it, bent down, turned off the wheel, plunged my hands in the bucket of water that I kept close then grabbed a towel. Without further delay, I threw Rees another grin, jerked my head at her to follow me and I hightailed it to the house.

We were in the kitchen when I turned and said, “Wait here, give me a minute.”

She nodded.

I took off down the hall calling, “Fin! You here?”

“Yeah, Aunt Dusty!” I heard from upstairs.

I turned around the foot of the stairs and jogged up. Fin met me at the top.

I looked up at him. “Got your homework done?” I asked and watched his face get slightly hard.

I’d learned since being home that Fin was way past mothering. I tried it once, he shut me down. Then, shortly after, I found he didn’t need it. He did his homework and not only that, he urged his brother to do his. He saw to shit that needed to be seen to like closing down the house at night, turning off lights, making sure doors were locked, muttering quiet words to his brother to get to bed. He’d slid without effort into Darrin’s role in the Holliday household. Surprisingly, at seventeen and very soon after his father died, he’d seen what had to be done and he already knew what he wanted in his life. So he assumed the role of the man of the house without attitude or complaint.

So an indication from me that he was still a kid was not welcome.

“I –” he started but I interrupted him.

“See, Clarisse came by to talk about learning how to ride horses and going to the mall.” The hardness swept clean from Fin’s face and his eyes went alert as I carried on, “Then she shared she hadn’t yet done her homework. Been a while since I’ve been in high school but I remember it was more fun to do it with a study partner. Not to mention, if you’ve got someone older than you, they might help you out if you got caught on something. You think you might help Rees with her homework?”

His eyes were now not only alert but alight.

“Yeah,” he said quietly and I buried my grin.

Then I said, “Well, she probably doesn’t need help walking back to her house to get her books so you two can study at the kitchen table. But I bet she wouldn’t mind the company and she’s downstairs in the kitchen now.”

Fin held my eyes. Then he jerked up his chin and instantly made to move to the stairs.

Yeah, my Finley liked Rees Haines.

I grabbed his arm quickly before he could disappear.

“Two things, honey,” I said when he turned his eyes to me.

I got another chin jerk.

God, so Darrin.

I took in a breath and reminded him in a quiet voice, “She’s fifteen and her Dad is a cop.”

“Got it,” Fin whispered.

My fingers curled deeper into his bicep and I continued, “I bet you do. But I’ll just reiterate, she’s young, she likes you, she doesn’t know anything but good men in her life so she’ll trust you and you need to protect that. And if you don’t, you’ll be answering to her father and he’s not a man whose respect you throw away. Are you with me?”

Fin held my eyes, a muscle jumping in his cheek. This was because he loved me but he was right then pissed at me. And he was because he gave a shit about Rees and my reminding him of these things, he read, was me thinking he was a certain type of guy who he might be but had no intention of being with Rees.

I got closer and said even quieter. “I’m getting the impression her Mom’s not the greatest. Someone needs to look after her. I like her. So I’ve decided that’s me. And that’s where I’m coming from with this.”

He held my eyes, the muscle stopped jerking in his cheek and he murmured, “Good. ‘Cause she does need that ‘cause her Mom’s a freakin’ bitch.”

There it was. Further confirmation.

I took my hand from his arm and encouraged, “Go forth, have fun and, you know, if she’s got tons of work to do and that leads you into dinner, shame she has to rush across the field to eat. She should just stay here. I’ll be happy to call her Dad if it comes to that.”

That got me a grin.

“I could ask but I reckon Reesee’s buried,” Fin informed me. “She’ll definitely have to stay for dinner.”

Reesee.

Nice.

If he calls her that, she probably loves it.

“Then I better call Mike,” I muttered.

“Yeah.”

I smiled at him.

He smiled back at me.

Then he jogged down the stairs.

I listened like any busybody, matchmaking aunt would do as I heard the murmurings from downstairs and the backdoor open and close. And like any busybody, matchmaking aunt would do, I rushed to the end of the hall and looked out the window to watch two teenagers walk across the field. I had no qualms doing it and was thrilled I did when a third of the way across the field, Fin got tired of Rees being shy and he teasingly bumped into her and he did it hard. She went semi-flying to the side which meant Fin had to catch her and he did this by grabbing her hand and pulling her close.

Then he didn’t let go of her hand.

I watched her tip her head back and twist it to the side to grin up at him.

Fin did the same but looking down at the same time pulling her closer.

Seriously, he was seventeen but my nephew had it
going on.

I smiled, turned away from the window and remembered my hands were still slightly muddy. So I went to the bathroom, washed them, toweled off, grabbed my muddy towel and walked out.

Then I stopped.

Fin would have Kirb in his room doing his homework. As had happened since I got home, I knew Kirby wouldn’t come down and park his ass in front of the TV until he was done.

Rhonda, however, I had no clue where she was. It was two choices, kitchen or her bedroom. And she wasn’t in the kitchen.

So I headed to her bedroom.

The door was slightly ajar so I knocked and stuck my head in.

“Rhonda?”

She was on her side in the bed, back to me. She also didn’t reply. She did this a lot, lying in the bed she shared with my brother, not reading, not watching TV, just lying there.

Not good.

“Rhonda, honey, are you napping?” I called softly.

She rolled, sat up, her legs sliding over the side and she looked at me.

I knew my brother. I knew my brother was attracted to Rhonda because she was a sensitive soul he felt he needed protect. But he was also a good-looking man who found himself a very pretty woman. Twenty years and two kids later, she was no less pretty. Lots of dark hair she had cut at her shoulders, the style not overtly fashionable but definitely becoming. Big, blue eyes. Flawless skin.

Now that hair was not styled and even a little ratty, those eyes were empty and the skin was pale and not in a late February in Indiana kind of way. In a not eating enough, not getting enough exercise, breathing but not living kind of way.

“Hey,” she greeted like I was a surprise visitor at the front door.

I stared at her. Then Fin seeking solace and getting it from a sweet, bashful teenage girl and not from his mother hit me and I decided it was time to take another shot.

So I walked into the room and informed her, “Clarisse Haines is gonna come over to study with Fin and she’s staying for dinner.”

Rhonda cocked her head to the side looking mildly perplexed.

Then she stated, “I have two packages of chicken breasts. The boys each eat two. If you and me both have one, I’ll have enough.”

I’d just told her, essentially, that Fin was starting to see my new boyfriend’s daughter who lived across the way and all she had was chicken breasts?

I walked further into the room and informed her on a grin, “He likes her, like, a whole lot.”

“Of course,” Rhonda replied. “She’s pretty.”

“She is,” I agreed. “And I think this is good for him because she’s sweet. You know, to have something nice like this with Darrin gone.”

Her eyes immediately drifted across the room.

“Rhonda,” I called and it wasn’t sharp but it was attention-getting so she looked back at me. When her eyes hit mine, I changed the subject. “Did you call Mimi about going back to work like we talked about?” I asked.

“Yeah. She said she was real sorry but she had to hire someone else to cover my shifts.”

Damn. Rhonda needed a focus, something to do with her days. She needed to be around people. She needed a reminder that there was life outside the loss of her husband and this farm.

“You want me to talk to her? See if she’ll take you back on? Maybe there’s frequent turnover at the coffee house. Could be, you could pick up more hours. Maybe go full-time. You’re great at baking, maybe you could help her in the kitchen too,” I suggested and Rhonda’s eyes got wide.

“I can’t do full-time,” she told me.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Well, ‘cause I got a house. I got things to do.”

“Rhonda, honey,” I moved to the bed and sat down beside her. “You clean the house once a week. Those boys, they eat, I’ll give you that but you do a weekly massive grocery shop. Women with full-time jobs see to their house and their kids all the time.” I grinned. “And, think you noticed, they’re good kids, responsible. They’re doing good. They’re keeping on. Not to mention, I’m here to help out.”

She stared at me and replied, “Darrin didn’t think I needed to do full-time. He liked me home.”

I reached out, grabbed her hand and held it firm when I reminded her softly and gently, “Darrin isn’t here anymore, honey.”

Her eyes drifted.

I gave her hand a squeeze but didn’t get her eyes back. Still, I kept at her.

“You need to do something that doesn’t include lying in this bed, Rhonda. You need something to fill your time, something to think about. You need that for your boys and you need that,” I squeezed her hand again, “for
you.

She sighed, her hand limp in mine.

“Rhonda, would you please look at me?” I asked, she kept her eyes across the room, I scooted closer and repeated, “Rhonda, honey, please. Look at me.”

She gave me her eyes. Hers were vacant. Switched off. Totally.

I kept at her. “Think about it. I’ll talk to Mimi. I’ll get a paper. We’ll find you something you like to do. I promise you won’t have to do anything you don’t like. But the time has come for you to stop spending all your time in this bed and start to check back in.” I gave her another squeeze and said, “Think about it. Promise me.”

She stared at me then, more to get me to move on then to give me an answer, she nodded.

“Thanks,” I whispered knowing I was no further in my endeavors to get my sister-in-law to snap out of it.

I let her go and moved out of the room, out of the house and back to my wheel to salvage the vase that would one day make me two hundred dollars richer which would go a long way to keeping my baby girls in oats.

As I sat, before I got my hands back in the clay, I tagged my cell phone, scrolled to Mike and hit go.

It rang twice before, “Hey, Angel. In a meeting.”

There it was. Never any time to communicate.

“Right, can I just tell you a couple of things quickly?” I asked.

“Yep,” Mike answered.

“Hang onto your hat,” I advised.

“Shit,” Mike muttered and I grinned.

“Good news, no Debbie.”

“Right,” he prompted, saying the word slowly when I said no more.

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