Kyland

  I cocked an eyebrow. "Sam?"

  She nodded. "Yeah, his place is nice. It's warm. He's warm."

  "Why Marlo, I do believe you're blushing." I ribbed her. "You love him, don't you?"

  She made a sputtering sound. "No, no, it's still just casual. But why stay here," she waved her arm around our small, run-down trailer, "if I can stay there. It's closer to work, too."

  I studied her. I didn't buy it. "Well, okay, that's good then." I stood up. "I actually need to get going. I'm meeting Jamie at the site in half an hour."

  "How is Jamie?" she asked. I noted hesitancy in her voice.

  "He's good. You should get to know him, Mar. He's a really nice guy. I know it seems kinda weird with the history between our parents, but he's never judged me by that, and I don't judge him by it either. Seriously—he's had things rough in his own way."

  While I'd been in San Diego, my friendship with Jamie had blossomed. He'd gone to school in California as well, at Harvey Mudd, just a couple hours from me, and when I'd been heavily involved in applying for grants, I'd reached out to him for some information about Tyton Coal that I thought would be applicable to my cause. We'd gotten together several times over lunch that turned into dinner. Over a few too many glasses of wine, I'd told him about Kyland and how he'd broken my heart. Truthfully, it'd been a really healing friendship for me, considering everything. Jamie had also told me he'd come out to his parents right before he left for college and it had not gone well. He wasn't sure he was going to be welcomed back into his parents' lives. He already had a job waiting for him back at the mine, though, so he'd have to have at least some interaction with his father. And at least he hadn't been cut off financially. But he'd stayed away during the summers like me and graduated a little earlier as well. Funny how different our lives were, and yet how similar our hearts felt.

  Marlo nodded, but looked skeptical. After a second she smiled brightly. "I'm just so glad to have you back, baby sister. I've missed you so much."

  I smiled at her, my heart squeezing. "Me too. You have no idea, Mar." She stood up and I squeezed her tight, sinking in to the comfort of her embrace, so happy to be back with my best friend.

  When I pulled away, she said, "So, you up for visiting Mama next week? She's expecting us."

  "Of course," I said. "I wish we could go sooner."

  Marlo shook her head. "She does really well on a specific schedule. She's so much better, Tenleigh. Wait until you see her." Her eyes lit up in a way I hadn't seen since we were kids. "Wait until you talk to her. It's . . ." She became teary and started laughing, like Marlo usually did when she was teary, which was rarely. "Anyway . . ."

  "I can't wait." I smiled, grabbing her hands and squeezing again. "Okay, I'm off. I know you have to work late. I'll see you in the morning?"

  She nodded. "Yeah, I'll see you in the morning." I hugged her again tightly and with that, I was back out the door, getting back in my car, and making the trip back down the mountain.

  As I drove down Main Street toward the lot the school would be built on, I felt the same happiness from when I'd caught sight of the mountains for the first time earlier today. Yes, I was home. And it was going to be good—it was going to be just fine.

  But that feeling was short-lived when I glanced to my left and saw the figure of the person who had haunted me for almost four years: Kyland. My heart stuttered in my chest and I sucked in a breath. He had a little boy on his shoulders and Shelly was behind him, laughing at something the boy was saying. Kyland turned around and said something to her, too, and then laughed. I watched as he swung the boy to the ground, the boy squealing and laughing. He took his hand as they continued on. My heart dropped into my feet and I clutched the steering wheel as my eyes filled with tears. He hadn't seen me. I sucked in air and the air felt sharp, as if it was made of a million tiny razor blades. It hurt to breathe. Oh God, it hurt to breathe. All these years I'd tortured myself with the picture of Kyland as a dad—Kyland as the dad to someone else's kid—but the reality of it pierced me so deeply, it was a physical pain. It was true. Kyland had a child—a son.

  Breathe, Ten. Breathe. I gasped in a small, tortured breath. What the hell had I been thinking coming back here?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Tenleigh

  I didn't run into Kyland again that week. Not that I'd run into him exactly—I didn't think he'd seen me, but I made it a point to steer clear of anywhere I thought he might be, and that included Main Street.

  I'd pulled off the road that day and spent twenty minutes in my car, just trying to breathe normally again. And then I'd gathered myself together and driven to the lot where the school would be built. Jamie was already there, waiting for me. He had taken one look at my face, asked, "Kyland?" and when I'd nodded, he had wrapped me in his arms. I hadn't truly suffered over Kyland Barrett in years, and suddenly just a brief glimpse of him and I was a mess. So yes, taking the back roads might seem cowardly and slightly pitiful, but at least for the time being, I was just fine with being a pitiful coward. Hiding was less painful.

  I pulled up in front of the library next to where the school would be built and looked around. Construction crews would be showing up in a week. I was here today to start clearing out the library. I'd brought boxes in the trunk of my car for the books. I'd already arranged it with the high school in Evansly. They'd donated the books to the new school. Truthfully, it didn't look like anyone had even used this library much since I'd been gone. It wasn't even worth having someone lock and unlock it. The small shed-sized building would be torn down once the construction process began.

  So many years ago, I'd lobbied for a small library in Dennville and helped it become a reality. How surreal that the school I'd lobbied for would be built on the same lot. And yet so perfectly fitting.

  I stood next to my car for a minute, picturing the building that was planned. I had a drawing of it back at the trailer and I looked at it when I needed to remind myself why this was going to be worth the emotional hardship I might have to endure. I took a deep, fortifying breath. This wasn't about me. This was about the kids who might have more choices because of this school. This was about giving someone else the same opportunities I'd been given when I won the Tyton Coal Scholarship. This was about remembering that, although it was hard for me to be here now, and it had been hard for me to grow up here, because of that scholarship, I had choices. I could do anything I wanted with my life—I could go anywhere I wanted to go. That scholarship had set me free—from poverty, from hopelessness, from the limited opportunities of the life I'd been born into.

  I walked into the library, a box in hand and stood there for a minute, gathering myself, breathing in the smell of dust and old paperback books. I had a vision of myself sitting at the desk right there at the back of the room, dressed in old, worn clothes, homework spread out . . . I walked to the back wall and ran my hand along the books, almost expecting to see a small piece of white paper sticking out of one. Memories bombarded me and I shut my eyes, holding back the tears that threatened.

  "This place still smells the same," I heard behind me in a low voice.

  I whirled around and sucked in a breath. Kyland. My heart practically jumped out of my chest.

  Our gazes held for several long beats.

  "H-Hello," I finally said.

  Hello! That's what you come up with after all this time? Hello? Pitiful.

  Kyland just lifted his chin, something dark and unreadable in his expression as he leaned indifferently against the doorframe. And God, why? How did someone evil and cruel get to be so beautiful? It didn't seem like karma should work that way. Had he always been this gorgeous? He had been a boy the last time I'd seen him and it was easy to see that he was a man now, all chiseled cheekbones and strong jaw. His hair was shorter, almost a buzz cut, and his frame seemed even bigger, taller and more muscular. His jaw ticked. I stood up straighter. I was a woman now, and I could handle this. I dropped the box onto the floor without looking down and crossed
my arms under my breasts.

  "You're back," he finally said.

  "It appears so."

  "Why?" he rasped out as if he was in pain. "What the fuck are you thinking, Tenleigh?"

  Hurt slammed into me and I flinched slightly before I quickly got control of myself. Kyland stared back unapologetically.

  "What business is it of yours?" I asked, turning and pulling a stack of books from the shelf and dropping them into the box sitting on the floor at my feet.

  Just as quick as that, he was behind me and his hand was on my arm. I looked down at it, anger rising in me just as quickly as the hurt had. I turned slightly and shook him off me violently, hissing out, "Don't touch me. Don't ever touch me."

  For the briefest second, shock and what looked like hurt flashed in his eyes, but then he squinted them again. Something filled with power sizzled in the air between us, making my blood pump furiously through my veins as my skin prickled. Kyland flinched and took a step backward as if he felt it, too, and it pained him in some way.

  "I saw you the other day," I said. "With Shelly and your son." I wanted to kick myself for the way my voice hitched on the final word. "Congratulations."

  Kyland froze and something faltered in his expression, but he didn't say anything.

  I waited, but when he remained silent, I sighed. I turned to him fully. "Is there something you want, Kyland? Why are you here?"

  "I want you to turn around and drive back out of town."

  I tilted my chin up, determined not to cry. Asshole. What had I ever done to him except give him my whole heart? I'd also given him my body—let's not forget that small fact. And he was treating me this way? "What? This town isn't big enough for the both of us? Why don't you leave?"

  He leaned in toward me and I had a brief flash of him leaning in to kiss me, right here, right where we were now standing. I drew in a quick breath. "Because I can't," he gritted out.

  I leaned back against the bookshelf behind me, trying to create space between us. "Right." Your son. Your family. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Which brings us back to the reason why what I do with my life has zero to do with you. Go to hell, Kyland," I hissed.

  His eyes flared and he leaned in closer. I smelled clean breath and salty, masculine skin and I sucked in a big breath of his air as if the oxygen I'd been breathing for the last four years had only barely sustained me—lacking the one element that filled me with actual life. He smelled delicious and achingly familiar.

  He stared down at me for several long beats before he rasped, "I do go to hell. Every day. For you." And then he whirled around and stalked out of the library, leaving me trembling and confused, angry and hurt. But I didn't cry. I refused to cry another tear over Kyland Barrett.

  **********

  "Hey, Al," I said, entering the smoky bar a few days later. "You know there's a smoking ban in bars in Kentucky, right?" I gave him a small smirk.

  "Yeah, I know, smartass," Al said. "But this is my bar. They can come cite me if they want."

  "You're a rebel, Al," I said. Truthfully, I wished Al would follow the law considering my sister and her lungs worked here and had for quite some time. But Al was Al and what he lacked in workplace health practices, he made up for in other qualities. He paid a fair wage and he protected his girls to the best of his ability.

  I'd come into the bar a few days before and asked if I could pick up some shifts. Al had welcomed me back. And luckily for me, one of his regular waitresses had recently quit.

  So here I was—back in Dennville, Kentucky, living in the same rickety trailer, and working in the same smoke-filled bar, overcome with sadness and despair over the same lying, cheating boy. "You've come a real long way, Tenleigh," I murmured to myself as I wiped down a table and cleared the beer bottles. Only in actuality, I had. I had a college degree now. It changed everything. I took a deep breath, determined not to let the run-in of earlier that week completely ruin me. I had chosen this. I had chosen to come back. And I needed to deal with it. I'd never really faced it because I hadn't had to—the distance between Kyland and me had made it a little easier to pretend he didn't exist. But now it was utterly clear that he did exist. And for some unknown reason, he was angry and bitter with me for returning. I snorted. "Asshole," I murmured again to myself.

  The rest of the early evening went by quickly. It was Friday night so I expected it would be crowded. Since I'd been gone, Al had added a small platform area that worked as a stage and a dance floor. Tonight he had a local Kentucky band performing live. By nine o'clock the bar was filled with people, drinking, dancing, and laughing boisterously. Marlo was working, too, and Sam had come by to listen to the band. When he walked in, I gave him a big hug and showed him to Marlo's section.

  "You look great, Tenleigh," he shouted over the noise.

  "Thanks, Sam." I grinned at him. "You treating my sister good?"

  He got a shy, lovesick look on his face. Oh boy. "Always," he said.

  I laughed, winked, and walked him to a table. I leaned on the back of the chair facing him on the other side of where he was now sitting. "Hey, Sam, before I grab you a beer, I wanted to thank you for what you're doing for our mama. Marlo says she's doing really great, and that's all because of you."

  He flinched slightly and glanced away for a minute. Had I embarrassed him? "I'd do anything for your family, for Marlo," he said.

  I grinned. "I've always liked you, Sam."

  He laughed and pushed his glasses up on his nose. I stood up and went to get him a beer. The guy wasn't giving up on my hardheaded sister, and he was doing something wonderful for our mama. I couldn't help but like him—he was one of the few good ones. As happy as I was for Marlo, and as much as she deserved a good man who was willing to fight for her, I couldn't help the melancholy I felt as I stood at the bar waiting for Sam's beer. Would I ever have that? Would someone ever love me that way? Would I ever love someone like I'd loved Kyland? Did I want to ever love someone that intensely again? I'd sworn off love forever after Kyland broke my heart, but that vow hadn't been sustainable. I still longed for love. I ached for someone to hold me tight and tell me everything was going to be okay, to kiss my forehead tenderly, and reach for me in the darkness.

  "Looks like you could use this," Al said, sliding a shot down the bar to me.

  I was jolted out of my reverie. "What is it?"

  "Don't ask stupid questions, just bottoms up."

  I laughed. Al was not opposed to his waitresses doing a shot or two during a shift. Sometimes you needed a little something to get you through a night of being jostled and groped by drunks. Ah, hell, why not? I did need a drink. I needed to quiet my own brain. I threw the shot back and grimaced as the fiery liquid burned down my throat. I leaned over the bar and grabbed a lime and stuck it in my mouth, turning away from the bar as I sucked out the sour liquid.

  For the second time that week, my eyes met with stony gray ones. Kyland. My whole body froze and I just stared at him, my heart pounding in my ears.

  He was standing stock-still right at the doorway, glaring across the space at me, a look of shock on his face. And suddenly all the air in the place seemed to be sucked right out the door.

  The raucous noise of the bar faded away as we held eye contact. And then, from behind him, Shelly appeared. I took a step backward, the bar hitting my back. Her appearance felt like a punch to the gut. Shelly looked at Kyland and then followed his eyes to me. Something that looked like sympathy came into her expression and I looked away, turning back around to the bar. I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself. I grabbed Sam's beer and put it on my tray and walked it toward his table, not glancing toward the door again. Hopefully when Kyland had seen me, he'd left. I straightened my spine.

  I went back to the bar and Marlo pulled me aside. "Kyland's here. You okay?" Her expressive eyes were wide with concern.

  "I'm fine," I insisted, even though I wasn't exactly sure. "I thought I was the one who was angry, but he seems to hate me." Hurt and confusi
on assaulted my chest.

  "Why would he hate you? For getting out of here when he screwed his life up?"

  I chewed on my lip. "I don't know. Do Kyland and Shelly come in here often?"

  She shook her head. "I've never seen them in here."

  I frowned. "Huh. Well, we both have to live in this town. Or rather, I've decided to live in this town—for now. And so he can deal with it—whatever his problem is."

  Marlo nodded, but looked unsure. "Okay. If you need me to pour a beer on him or something, I will. That'll get him out of here."

  I laughed, but she didn't. "I'm serious."

  "I know you are, Mar." I hugged her quickly.

  As I served a few more drinks, I noticed that Kyland and Shelly hadn't left. In fact, they'd gotten a table up by the dance floor. I watched them from the corner of my eye and noticed that he was sitting stiff and rigid and she looked uncomfortable, too. I vowed not to look in their direction again.

  I went back to the bar and asked Al for another shot and slung it down. I hadn't eaten dinner and so the two shots already had a buzzed energy spreading through my veins.

  You're okay. You're okay.

  A big trucker sitting at the bar who had consumed one too many beers pulled me onto his lap. I laughed, and struggled to get up, but he pulled me back down. "Hey, come on, now," I said, trying to diffuse the situation, "how can I get your beer if you don't let me up?"

  "I'd rather take a long drink of you." He laughed loudly and moved his hands up my body.

  "Let her go before I rearrange your fucking face." I recognized Kyland's voice immediately. I stopped struggling and the big guy whipped his head around, releasing his hold on me. I clamored to my feet, smoothing my shirt down.