Brant's Return

She blinked and then laughed, the sudden discomfort between us diminishing. “You are that.”

I studied her for a second, feeling unsure myself, out of my element. Rejected. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, Belle. It was just a kiss.” Even as I spoke the words, I knew it was a lie. It wasn’t just a kiss.

Her knowing eyes moved over my face before she looked away, nodding. “Should we go?”

She turned and pushed the brush aside in the same spot where we’d entered. I glanced behind me, memorizing the space, picturing Belle standing within it as she’d been only moments before. I tried to hold the wonder, the peace I felt inside me, because I knew I wouldn’t be back here again.

CHAPTER NINE

Isabelle

The next couple of days were filled with rain as the temperature dropped and the heavens opened. I stayed in the house, working in the office, trying my best to steer clear of Brant. What had I been thinking, kissing him? I brought my fingers to my mouth, recalling the feel of his strong but soft lips on mine, the taste of him, the way he’d kissed so . . . masterfully. My God, the man should give lessons. How easy it would be to get swept away . . . Perhaps a part of me already was. What a difference only a handful of days could make. Brant had made unfair assumptions about me, but I’d done the same with him. I’d assumed there was nothing under that pretentious exterior he presented to the world, when the truth was, there was so much more.

Strangely, I didn’t exactly regret kissing him. I’d been scared, uncertain directly afterward, afraid the kiss would bring up all sorts of emotions I wouldn’t handle well. But, the opposite had been true. I’d been fine, and the knowledge gave me strength, and a dose of optimism, that in one regard anyway, I had healed.

The last man I’d kissed—and until two days before, the only man—had been my husband. I didn’t have any interest in pursuing anything more, and I would wager all the tea in China that Brant didn’t either, but to know that I could experience physical pleasure with someone else and not suffer emotional fallout was a gift beyond measure. It brought hope, the belief that someday . . . someday maybe I’d find happiness in the arms of someone else.

And what about a family, Belle? What about that?

A flare of panic, a small resurgence of grief flowed through me, my heart fluttering and stealing my breath. That familiar feeling of . . . betrayal that even a thought could bring. I shut my eyes, and after a moment the worst of it passed, though a feeling of melancholy lingered on the outskirts of my heart.

Close to six, I left the office and went into the kitchen, greeting May with a smile. “If you have dinner ready for Mr. Talbot, I’ll take it up.”

“Sure do. Let me just get it on a tray. His appetite seems especially hearty since he came home from the hospital. It’s a good sign.”

I nodded in agreement. I’d noticed the same thing, and it brought relief. “I thought the rain was supposed to let up today,” May continued as she ladled soup into a bowl and glanced past me at the window. “Instead it’s coming down harder than it did yesterday. Cats and dogs my father used to say.”

“I know. The training yard is practically a river. All the hors

es are antsy, but what can you do?” I shrugged.

“Speaking of antsy,” she said. “I’m surprised Brant is still here. I’d have thought he’d be chomping at the bit to get back to his life in New York.” She set a roll and a small dish of butter on the tray. “Gives me some hope that he’s more invested in working things out with Harrison than he might admit.”

I took the tray from May, biting at my lip for a moment. “I don’t know. I hope so too. When I called Brant, I didn’t realize the extent to which those two are cut from the same cloth, you know?”

“Oh they are that.” May smiled kindly. “In any case, I think it’s been good for Brant to be here, remember where he came from. Seems he’s done a mighty fine job of forgetting all these years. He’s practically been living at the stables these past few days.” Yes, I’d noticed that too.

I opened my mouth to respond to May when Jeff, one of the men who worked at the stables, came into the kitchen. He was drenched from head to toe, running a hand over his wet hair.

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” May exclaimed. “You’re going to create a puddle on my floor. Here,” she said, tossing him the towel hanging on the back of the stove.

He took it with a thank you, wiping at his face and the front of his shirt. He took a seat at the counter, his hands obviously trembling with cold. “Thanks, May. You got any coffee left?”

“My goodness, you look freezing. What are you doing out there catching your death?” She slid a cup of steaming coffee in front of him and he wrapped his hands around the mug, sighing.

“Mona Lisa and her foal got out of the pen in the south pasture and Mick and I went to collect ’em. Brant came along and we found Mona Lisa but not the foal. Almost everyone went home for the night. We’ll have to look for her in the morning.”

My blood ran cold, and I placed the tray down on the counter. “In the morning?” I rasped, disbelief clear in my tone. The sun hadn’t even set yet. Morning was a lifetime away.

Jeff looked at me, his expression a mixture of grim and confused as he nodded. “Yeah. It’ll be getting dark pretty soon here and the stream is overflowing from all the rain. It isn’t safe out there.”

I shook my head, trying to stop the buzzing, my skin prickling. “But the foal, Starshine, she’s only a baby.”

Jeff’s eyes tightened at the corners and he tilted his head. “She’s a horse. She’ll be fine.”

“No,” I said, backing out of the kitchen. My eyes flew to May’s worried gaze. “May, will you take Mr. Talbot his dinner? I have to . . .” I shook my head again, turning and running for the door, not bothering with an umbrella.

My sneaker-clad feet sloshed in the mud puddles lining the side of the road to the stable, and when I burst breathlessly into the dry space, Brant and Mick turned, twin expressions of surprise greeting me.