Sacred Hart (5 page)

“You can have fudge and a cherry, B—” I had to take a breath… I’d almost called her Birdie. My smile disappeared and my lips set in a serious line.

“Yes! I’ll have vanilla fudge and a cherry.” She wiggled excitedly in her seat, her mother’s eyes on her instead of me, thankfully. My breakdown was just under the surface.

“One hot fudge sundae coming right up.” I turned to leave and Maggie spoke.

“Make that to go.”

“Aww Mom,” Beth whined.

“Stay. Have dinner. We hardly get any customers these days, and sure as hell none as lovely as you two ladies.” Tony oozed charm.

I paused with my hand on the kitchen door. Maggie’s eyes found mine, and she nodded as if she could tell her presence was unnerving me. “Maybe another time.”

“One sundae to go,” I repeated and walked through the kitchen door. In the safety of the empty kitchen, I exhaled a sharp breath.

I lived in my own little world. No one really talked to me except Lou and Tony. On occasion, Officer Evans would try to strike up a conversation. Or a few of the regulars would smile and say hi. But I was used to being invisible. Ryan Hartford was unseen, a low-lit flame in the back of Red’s. My days and nights were non-descript. It kept me sane. It kept my past hidden in the shadow of my eyes. People didn’t want to know my shit. They didn’t need to hear my horror stories. Maggie sure as hell didn’t need my loss added to hers. So why did I find myself eagerly scooping vanilla fucking ice cream into a to-go cup, just so I could see the ghost of Belle behind the counter and to feel the warmth of Maggie’s smile?

I slammed the freezer door shut and ran my hands through my hair. I closed my eyes and let myself see the images of that night. I needed the reminder. I let myself remember how Sarah sounded as I opened the bedroom door and watched her screw my best friend. I remembered how love destroyed, how it became a tainted black force that stole lives and ruined my future. The click of the trigger sounded in my head, and the smell of metal and gunpowder filled my nostrils. I shivered with an angered burst.

Maggie’s sweet smiles were misguided, and I was an idiot to indulge in them even for a second.

I picked up the Styrofoam to-go cup and placed the lid on it. I grabbed a few napkins and a plastic spoon before heading back through the kitchen door. Tony was busy talking to one of the local regulars at the end of the bar, and Lou was taking an order from a new patron in one of the booths. Maggie was helping Beth put on her jacket. She looked up at me and her lips spread into that welcoming smile again. I diverted my gaze as I placed the cup on the counter and cleared my throat.

“Thanks,” she said with an air of insecurity.

Despite my better judgment, I stole a glance. She was grabbing her coat off the back of the stool where she’d been sitting. I watched as she pulled it on, the weight of it overwhelmed her. Maggie took out her wallet and began to open it.

“No. It’s on the house.”

“But—” she tried to protest.

“Tony’s rules,” I said and shrugged my shoulders.

She nodded and a hint of humor danced at the corners of her mouth. “All right, then. Thank you.” She handed the sundae to Beth and lingered for a few seconds. Her words were trapped behind hesitant lips.

Maggie’s blue eyes searched my face and the pressure behind my temples grew. My head felt dizzy and my pulse was unsteady. Her appraisal was too much to take.

She took Beth’s hand in hers, releasing me from her intense gaze. “See you around, Ryan.”

She turned and walked away before I had a chance to answer. Not that I had planned on it. My name on her lips was wrong in more ways than I could count. The muscles in my shoulders tensed again as I balled my fists.

“Don’t be a stranger.” Tony smiled and watched them as they disappeared through the diner door with a wave.

I wanted her to be a stranger. Beth was a ghost, and Maggie was a privilege I didn’t deserve.

I was a criminal. A man without a future. A body that just went through the motions. I hadn’t hoped for more, and I shouldn’t start to now.

“I think she’s sweet on you, Ryan,” Tony teased, and it pissed me off.

“I think you need to keep your opinions to yourself, old man.” I tried to infuse a nonchalance with my tone, but he narrowed his eyes.

Lou handed me her order ticket, and I headed back into the kitchen. The door never shut behind me as Tony followed me into the room.

“She could make things—”

“Better? Easier? Is that before or after I tell her I went to jail for shooting someone? Before or after she finds out about my past, and can’t decide whether she stays with me out of pity or because she has no better choice of her own.” My furious grip on the cold steel prep table caused the veins in my hands to stand out from under the skin.

“You gotta move on, son. Make a life for yourself again. Don’t lay roots in the past. It shouldn’t be your final stop.” Tony approached me warily, his hand cupped my shoulder. “You’re a good kid.”

I felt the sting of salt water rim the lids of my eyes. His pity hurt more than he’d ever know. I had no words for him, and he dropped his hold on me with an exasperated huff. “The Conner’s will be here soon.”

“I’ll get their order ready.”

Tony was a smart man, but too caring. I never wanted him to treat me like a wounded puppy. At times, he treated me just like everyone else, but most of the time he made me feel like his own son. He didn’t care about the ten years of hard time I’d done, or the things I had endured. He just wanted me to be happy. He wanted me to be normal, to have a love like Red’s, a life with a legacy like his. He wanted things I wasn’t sure I was capable of anymore.

“Thanks, Ryan.”

I nodded. Once he was gone, my grip on the counter eased. I reached over and turned on the radio. The light music drifted through the room and brought me back down to reality.

Even though the roots I had were rotted, the soil contaminated with loss and lies, the hold they had on me was strong and steadfast. Moving forward… it felt impossible, and I wasn’t ready or equipped, just yet, to find my way out of the thicket.

On occasion, I drove past my childhood home, but each time I did the pain grew into something too big to harness. The large property laid fallow. The house was run down, the wood splintered, and the driveway was muddied and unpassable. My boot slipped in the muck as I stepped from my car. I took a few small steps to the weathered white fence. My hand rested on the wet panel; the rain was just a mist, a fog of moisture that penetrated through even the best of jackets, but it chilled and soaked everything in its path.

Attending Mr. Bartley’s funeral today had brought all my old wounds front and center. I dropped off Cornelia, and instead of heading to my backup babysitter’s house to pick up Beth, I chose to come here instead. Being here, it helped me think, helped me work through most of the chaos in my head, and if I was being honest, it was Ryan that drove me here. When I was little, I used to bring home strays almost on a daily basis. The puppy dog eyes, the sickly underfed, the wild animal, the broken wing — I fixed things. It was in my nature; it was why I became a nurse, and this home housed all my past loves, my memories, and my heart.

Ryan was a stray. You couldn’t look at him without feeling the overwhelming urge to help. Help how I wasn’t sure. His slight southern accent, his sad eyes, and the way he hardly said a word but spoke volumes with his expressions… it was enough to draw me in and make me crazy with wonder. Ryan was rough around the edges, and the storm in his dark eyes was overtly sexy but scary at the same time. He wasn’t like the men I knew. The small town boys or the upper crust educated doctors. Ryan was real, and I’d never had real. I’d learned my lesson with Adam after he left me lost, pregnant, and alone — you couldn’t judge a book by its shiny cover. The breeze picked up, and it was no longer the thoughts of Adam that were leaving me cold.

The house that was once full of hope, love, and family was now dulled with isolation. When I moved to Utah, it was to make a new life. But instead, I was handed a different path, the path that brought me back here, brought me back home. I shouldn’t linger here. It made no sense to stay in the past. I closed my eyes and smiled as I thought of Beth, and my ridiculous little house with its crappy heaters and worn down appliances. My parents died. They died unexpectedly and too young. I missed them, and every day I’d have to remind myself I couldn’t call my mom for that recipe or ask my dad to help with the damn water heater, but I had Beth. I had a future, and it was a gift to live it. I couldn’t dwell in futures that didn’t happen or tragedies past. It would only make the air I was blessed to breathe murky, and I wanted more than a dishwater gray life.

Ryan.

I still had a heart, and I’d be lying if I tried to ignore how it beat faster when he was near. His hands had stories to tell. Those strong, worn, skillful looking hands, and the mystery behind where they’d been, what they’d feel like laced with mine — it was too hard to tell myself to stay away. Beth and I hadn’t been back to Red’s in a little over a week, but I drove by it often and, every time, I had to push my foot down on the gas. I’d tried to run away from that man, that stray, that fixer-upper with a rare smile that made my head spin, and a story I was dying to unearth. I stepped away from the fence with a new purpose and ran to my car, almost eating dirt as I slipped in a puddle. I squealed and grabbed the side of my car. Once my footing was steadied, I opened the door and slid in. The car heater made me breathless as I sat behind the wheel. The bitter cold melted from my fingertips as I held them against the vents. Ryan Hartford was an enigma, and if I was taking a plunge into the unknown of the future I was handed, I might as well see if he’d like to join me… or at least agree to a date.

I sent a text message to the babysitter telling her I’d be late and then shifted into gear. The tires fought against the waterlogged terrain as I pulled back onto the street.

Red’s was empty. The jukebox sang with acoustic notes, and once my feet planted on the worn linoleum, I began to regret my decision to come here. My nervousness was winning out over my earlier excitement. The brass bell chimed as the heavy door shut behind me. I winced. I opened my eyes expecting someone to come from the kitchen to greet me, but they didn’t. After another long minute, I was still standing alone like a scared mouse. I took two tentative steps when a loud sound emanated from behind the kitchen door. I paused when I heard a deep voice utter several swears, followed by another loud bang. I was about to turn and leave when the kitchen door swung open in a rush.

Ryan’s footing stumbled, and his breath hitched as his eyes found mine. “Shit.” He was holding two large metal trays with pastries, and they teetered precariously as he recovered his balance.

I tried, hopelessly, not to laugh, and brought my hand to my lips trying to stifle my smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He placed the trays down on the counter and wiped his hands on the white apron that covered him from waist to knee. His black short sleeved shirt pulled snug across his broad chest as he moved. The soft looking fabric of his shirt was covered in what appeared to be flour or some sort of white powder. “Can I help you?” he asked.

The tone caught me off guard; he sounded tense, and I wasn’t sure what to say next. “Are you all by yourself tonight?” It was well into dinner time and the place was a ghost town.

“I am.” He shifted on his feet and placed his hand on the counter. His long fingers curled into a fist the longer I stared at him like an idiot. He cleared his throat before he spoke again. “Not too many people come in on a Saturday. Better things to do.” The corner of his mouth twitched as he eyed me with curiosity.

“Ahh, yes, the lure of civilization… date nights and expensive swanky city-folk food.” I smiled, and he laughed. The sound of it warmed my cheeks. “All overrated in my humble opinion.”

His palm relaxed, and he placed his other hand on the counter leaning his tall body forward as I walked over to the bar. The smell of apples filled my nostrils as I neared the freshly made pastries. My mouth watered and I swallowed.

“I wouldn’t know.” His smile wavered. “Did you want to place an order to go?” He scanned the room behind me not making eye contact.

“Yeah, I have to go pick up my daughter, but I figured I’d stop in first… she has a thing for your ice cream.” I inwardly cringed at my poor attempt at flirting.

“So it seems.” His full lips pulled into a small smile. “Just the ice cream then?”

I wanted to say no. I wanted to order everything I possibly could just to keep him standing in front of me that much longer. I needed a bit more time to build up my confidence, so I could do what I came here for. “Yes. Two cups of Rocky Road if you have it.”

“Just give me a few minutes. Have a seat.” He nodded and pushed back from the counter.

Once he was through the kitchen door, I exhaled a harsh breath and sat down on the stool, laying my bag on the bar top. Maybe asking him on a date was a bad idea. He seemed pretty closed off and he hadn’t flirted back. Maybe my boldness wouldn’t be appreciated. I worried at my lower lip, but before panic could overtake me, the kitchen door swung open again. Ryan’s rich brown eyes were soft as they fell to mine. He placed the containers of ice cream in front of me. He wasn’t flirting, but for that brief moment, his guard had slipped and it settled my overactive nerves. “I’ll wrap up two of these apple fritters for you to take, too. I make them every Saturday.”

“Thanks. They smell delicious,” I said, and watched in silence as he placed two pastries in a Styrofoam container.

He handed me the box with another smile, but this time it reached his eyes. “It’s on the—”

“House. Yeah, Tony’s rule. I remember.” I stood from the stool and grabbed the containers. My heart was beating, fluttering, and pounding behind my sternum as I tried to gather words.

Just as I was about to speak, he did as well. The awkward moment of us both trying to speak at the same time made me giggle, and he smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I was just going to ask if you needed help out?” His gaze fell to my bag on the counter and then back to my full hands.

“Sure.” I handed him the containers and grabbed my purse. I didn’t get to say what I’d planned. In fact, we didn’t speak at all as we walked the short distance out of the diner and to my car.

I opened my car door and flung my purse into the back seat. My previous self-confidence was bordering on non-existent. Ryan handed me the to-go boxes, and I brought my eyes up to his. Up close, in the quiet light of dusk, you could see the weariness heavy in his brow and a faint sparkle of fear in the dark pools of his irises. He was more than a stray… more than lost. His loneliness was almost palpable.

“Drive safely.” He lifted his chin in a goodbye and my plans changed.

I sat in my car and shut the door, watching as he walked back toward the diner. My heart started that sprint again. My mind spun. If I let him walk through that door, it felt as if he’d disappear. It was dramatic, but the truth of it rushed through my veins. Without thinking, I rolled down my window and called out his name. “
Ryan.
”

He stopped and turned to look at me, his brow furrowed with concern.

“What are your plans tomorrow?” I asked without a flirty smile, just a matter of fact question. Something told me the fear I’d seen in his eyes earlier was reserved for me. “I mean, the diner is closed, right?”

He nodded. “I normally prep for the week.” He moved closer to my car. “Why?”

“Did you want some help?” It wasn’t a date-like thing to do, but it gave me the opportunity to get to know him, feel him out, and to see if his wall was worth the climb.

“Help?” He rubbed the back of his neck and narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah, Beth and I get bored on Sundays. We’d love to help. I feel like I should repay Tony for all the freebies.” My lips turned up at the corners, and the crease between his brows deepened.

“Tony doesn’t want—”

“What time do you start?” I interrupted, fighting a smile.

“Early.” He ran his hand through his hair and exhaled in defeat. “You guys can come by around eleven if you want, though. That’s when I start doing most of the baking.”

“Beth loves baking… well, licking the spoon, really. But she’s an excellent mixer.” I gave him my best lopsided grin, and he cracked. His chuckle was low as he shook his head.

“Eleven.” He let his eyes linger on my face, the intensity of it almost perceptible against my skin. “See you then, Maggie.”

I nodded and rolled up my window without saying goodbye. Ryan watched me as I eased out of the parking spot. My hand shot up in a shy wave as he turned to walk back into the diner.