Shattered Dreams (Dream #1)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Autumn

The sun hits my face, making my eyes flutter open and then quickly close for a couple of seconds before I blink them open again. I sink more into the bed as I look out the window at the blue sky, spotting a couple of birds soaring high in the sky before disappearing from view. I stretch my hands out from under the covers before I toss the blanket off me, lying still for a couple of seconds before I get out of bed. Sleep’s still in my eyes as my body moves slowly toward the end of the bed where I grab the sweater. My brain screaming for coffee makes me walk to the kitchen and start the process. Once the coffee is brewing, I take a couple of steps over to the back door and step out into the warm air. I walk over to the swing. Sitting down and curling my feet under me, I think about the past couple of days and how amazing work has been.

Yesterday, the bar was practically full. Tables filling up from all the promos I’ve been doing. The men who were in the other night came back with about forty men from their trade show and all requested the sample menu, which then led to a couple of them buying bottles to ship home. Something I didn’t even think about doing but now is at the top of my to-do list tomorrow when I get back in. By the end of the night, my feet were aching in the best way, and I had a smile on my face from ear to ear when I saw how much we made. It wasn’t mammoth, but it was something to help, and if every single day there is a little more and more, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. That as well as how every day there were a few more smiles that came my way than scowls. I mean, the scowls will always be there, but now it is six scowls to four smiles. I’m calling this a win, considering it was zero for ten from shortly after the accident to when I got back home.

The only thing that kept me on pins and needles all night was looking at the door every other minute, expecting Charlie to walk in. But he never came in. Even when I was sitting on the swing that night, my eyes would stare into the forest looking for movement, but again he never showed up. I should be happy that he’s moved on and isn’t out to make my life hell, but something nagged at me. Especially since the night before he stayed to clean up with me and then drove home to make sure I was okay. It was a little glimpse of the old Charlie. The Charlie who I always told Jennifer she was lucky she had. The Charlie who oozed sex appeal without even trying. The Charlie I would call first because I knew he would answer and be there for me.

I’m almost done with my coffee when I see him walking out of the forest. He’s staring straight ahead, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, his hair longer than I’ve ever seen him wear it. Knowing how soft and silky it feels under my hand makes my fingers tingly. His eyes are on me the whole time he makes it across the yard. “Hey,”

he says when he gets close enough, “I was hoping you would be up.”

“Is that so?”

I try to get my heart rate to return to normal, but whenever he’s around me lately, it’s like he’s the air I need to breathe, which makes me hate myself a little bit more.

“I was wondering if you were busy.”

He smirks at me, the Charlie smirk that you always want to see.

“I’m on my way to go to lunch with the pope,”

I retort. He throws his head back and laughs. A full-on laugh I haven’t heard since that fateful night. A sound I didn’t know I missed, yet now that I heard it, I want to hear it again. The lightness in his eyes is mesmerizing as he stares at me.

“Well, if I could maybe persuade you not to go to lunch with the pope, there is someone I want you to meet.”

All I can do is stare at him; my eyebrows pinched in confusion. “Why don’t you get changed?”

“Who am I meeting?”

I ask, standing up and walking over to the steps. With him on the step below, we are face-to-face. It would take nothing for me to wrap my arms around his neck and lean into him and take the kiss I want, but know I can’t ever get.

“There is this horse we got.”

The minute he says the words, I can’t help that my face beams as my eyes go big. “I’m assuming you are okay with that?”

“I mean, it isn’t the pope,”

I joke with him, “but I think he can take a rain check. I heard he’s a bit busy on Sunday anyway.”

He puts his hands on my hips, and I stop breathing. “If he gets to spend time with you, I bet he’ll take what he can,”

he says softly, his eyes going from mine to my lips. My mouth opens a bit as the tip of my tongue comes out to run across my lower lip. Both of us just stand here until he closes his eyes for a second, then opens them back up. The hunger and need are still in them, but it’s a different look than he’s given me. “Go get changed.”

His hands squeeze my hips. “I’ll wait for you here.”

“Okay.”

I turn around and head inside, putting my mug in the sink before walking to my bedroom and taking off my sweater. I grab a pair of blue jeans and a sleeveless black high-neck T-shirt, tucking it in the front, before brushing my hair and brushing my teeth. Putting on my old worn boots, I walk out and see him sitting on the swing. His arm is outstretched across the back, and all I can think of is cuddling up in his arms, which is silly since I’ve never cuddled with him. Sure, after we fucked it out and we turned on our side, neither of us wanting to face the other, I would always wake in his arms.

His head turns to me. “You look nice,”

he compliments, getting up from the swing. “You ready?”

“As ready as I’m going to be.”

I put my phone in my back pocket as I follow him down the steps toward the forest.

“Do you work today?”

he asks as we walk over to his barn.

“Yeah, I have to be there at five.”

“I’ll make sure to get you fed and back by then,”

he assures me, his hand grazing mine as we walk, his index finger hooking onto mine. The heat from his hand fills me as we step out of the forest and into the clearing, heading toward the red barn.

I stop walking when I see the big house across the way. I put my hand up over my eyes to see it clearly. “That wasn’t here the last time.”

“No.”

He shakes his head. “We built it a couple of years ago. It’s where I live now.”

My stomach lurches as I look at the house, shocked that he moved. “I’ll give you a tour,”

he mumbles as we walk into the side barn, and I follow him down the concrete hallway to a stall. “Hey there, girl,”

he says softly. “This is Goldilocks,”

he tells me before turning back to talk to the horse. “Brought you a friend.”

He holds up his hand, and I see the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen. She’s a light blond with a white mark down the front of her forehead. He turns to me. “I told her about you.”

My body moves back a touch as he talks to her and then looks back at me. “She’s a bit skittish,”

he cautions, “but once she trusts you, she’s fine.”

I step to his side. “Hi there,”

I say softly, and he reaches for my hand and lifts it with his.

“She won’t hurt you,”

he says as she makes a little noise and takes a step back.

“I won’t hurt you,”

I assure her, and she looks in my eyes, almost to my soul. “I promise.”

She takes a step to our hands.

“Do you want to take her out?”

he asks, and I just smile up at him.

“Will she let me?” I ask.

“Only way we will find out is if we try,”

he states, and I can’t contain my excitement as he opens the stall and walks in to grab her bridle. I see she already has a saddle on and everything.

“I haven’t ridden in over eight years,”

I admit as we walk out with the horse next to him.

“It’s just like a bike,”

he says, and when we are in the fenced area, he holds out his hand for me. I put my hand in his as I put my foot in the stirrup and then get up on her as I hear him. “You be good with her,”

he tells the horse. “She’s special.”

My chest tightens at his words as he looks up at me.

“I’m going to go get my horse, and we can go out on the trail.”

I nod as he turns and jogs back to the stable.

“We’re going to be just fine. I’m scared too,”

I admit, and she bends her neck to eat some of the grass.

A minute later, he’s walking out with a brown horse, stopping and getting on it with ease as he trots over to us. “You two look good,”

he says, and I just smile. “Let’s go that way.”

He points to the side as we follow him.

“How are things?”

he asks once we start on the trail.

“That’s a loaded question, Charlie Barnes.”

I try to make a joke of it. “How are things with me?”

I shrug. “I’ve had better days,”

I say softly, “but then again, I’ve had worse days.”

I swallow down, knowing he knows what I mean.

“How are things with the bar and stuff?”

“I’m not sure,”

I answer him honestly. Because even though it’s been better, is it good enough? “I’m hoping we can crawl out of the hole. But I’m not sure.”

“What are you talking about?”

he asks, and I look over at him.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know,”

I bark out, and his head snaps over to look at me.

“I can honestly say I have no idea what the fuck you are saying.”

His voice is tight.

“We are practically bankrupt,”

I start. “My father is dying, and the only thing I want to do is make sure he knows that everything is going to be okay.”

“He’s dying?”

he says in a whisper.

“It’s why I came back to town,”

I say, looking ahead, blinking away the tears that threaten. “No matter how bad I thought it was going to be, it’s a million times worse.”

I see him hanging his head. “And now I’m just trying to get things going again.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how you feel.”

I just nod, the lump in my throat is the size of a softball. “What do you mean, you guys are almost bankrupt?”

“Cartwright,”

I say the name I wish I never had to say again. “Apparently, their reach is long-lasting. We lost our distribution, and the bar is bringing in no money. We haven’t produced anything since I’ve been back, and I’ve been coming up with ideas on how to get people in the door.”

“How?”

he asks, and I say the ideas I’ve come up with, including the ones of having the out-of-towners buy some bottles from us. “If anyone can turn it around, it’s you.”

“It’s also my fault that all of this is happening,”

I admit. “If I would have just shut my mouth.”

“Then the families who suffered wouldn’t get the justice that they deserved, and it would all be a lie.”

“Nothing good came from that day in court,”

I remind him, “not one thing.”

“I’m sorry,”

he says softly, and I look over at him, “more than you will ever know. More than I can ever explain.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat. “The only thing that matters is making sure my father knows we are okay. The only thing I want is for him to know that, whatever happens, the business is going to be okay and we are going to be fine.”

The tear falls. “And I’m going to stay until then.”

“Then what?”

He doesn’t look at me while he asks the question.

“Then I go back to my place, I guess.”

He stops his horse from walking, so Goldilocks also stops.

“This is your home.”

He looks up at me.

“I don’t know where my home is,”

I admit. “Maybe in all of this I’m going to find my home.”

“Your home is right here,”

he repeats, “right fucking here.”

“Once upon a time, I thought it was.”

I pick my hand up and wipe away the tear. “I’m not so sure anymore.”

“I am,”

he declares, his shoulders back. “I’m not sure of a lot of things these days.”

His voice comes out shaky. My body gets tight waiting for the rest of his statement, except it’s nothing that I thought it would be. The words that come out of his mouth send me jumping off a cliff, but this time, there is water there to catch me falling and not just an empty black hole. “But I do know that this is where you belong.”