The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga) (25 page)

BOOK: The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga)
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He smiled warmly at her declaration.  “Me too.”

They walked hand-in-hand up the curved staircase, stopping at the landing to look back at the entryway.  “How many bedrooms up here?” she asked after a moment.

“Five. 
Enough for a big family.”

“Where’s your room going to be?”  He led her to the master suite—it was bright and spaciou
s, but not ostentatious, graced with views of the grazing land and foothills.

“The bed will go along the wall,” he said, motioning with their clasped hands.  “When you wake up in the morning, first thing you’ll see is the
new day.”  He pulled her into a tight embrace.  “But it’ll be even better if there’s a beautiful woman by my side.”

She brushed her cheek against his, felt the tug of fresh-shaved skin.  “It’s a shame, you know?”

He smiled so broadly the corners of his eyes crinkled.  “What’s that?”

“That
the bed isn’t here already.”

His mouth moved close to her ear, his voice lowered to a whisper.  “We’re two creative individuals.  I’m sure we can figure out something.”

***

“Would you like to talk about it?”

Bryn looked at her youngest son with a raised eyebrow.  He’d been packing all morning, folding shirts and jeans neatly, emptying his closet to the bare walls and piling things he’d outgrown in a separate box.  He’d outgrown a lot—he was six-five, far taller than anyone in her family, or Chase’s, and three inches taller than his older brother.  He was mature, physically and emotionally, but he was still her youngest, and he’d just been thrown for a loop.

He looked up, gave her a terse smile, and went back to his work.  “I talked to her till I was blue in
the face.  I begged her not to do this to us.”  He groaned, pounded his right fist into his left palm.  “You don’t know how different she’s been, Mom.  Ever since her dad died, it’s like the wind left her sails.  I know that was months ago, but it turned her whole world upside down.  She adored him, and he doted on her.  She loves her mom, but it’s just not the same.  If we…I don’t know, maybe I could help her.”

Bryn carefully considered her next statement.  “Maybe this is for the best.  The two of you won’
t have to endure the struggles of a long-distance relationship.” 

“Maybe,” he scoffed.

“Chandler?”  He glanced up at her with those woeful blue eyes, and it felt like a sliver of glass raked across her heart.  “It’s okay to cry.”

He looked at her incredulously, with unbridled contempt.  That stung her, too, but if he had to take out his pain and anger on someone, better her than himself.  “I know,” he said miserably.  “And I guess I should have seen this coming.  We may never see e
ach other again.  I can’t see her coming back here.  She’s lost too much.”

“And what about you?” she asked hopefully.

“I love it here, Mom, honestly.  But there’s a big world out there to explore.”  He smiled at her fondly.  “We’ll see.” 

“Bryn?”

She’d just wrested a dish from the oven and set it to cool alongside the rest of the meal.  Chase placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging gently.  “Are you upset that Chandler and Taylor are dating?”

“Not in the way you might think.  She hurt him before.
” 

“He got over it.  Besides, she was hurting, too.”

“What if it happens again?”

“Then he’ll get over it.  He’s a thick-skinned, grown boy, who doesn’t need the two of us for much of anything these days.”  He smiled in acknowledgment of the situation.  “To te
ll you the truth, he never really did.  He was born with a headful of ideas, his own personality…”

“…and enough humility to
get through anything.”

“Exactly.”
  He grinned at her.  “Is humility the right word?”

“Well, he was never shy, but never as outgoing
as CJ.  Hard to say.”


Mark said he was really happy.  Taylor seems to be having a good effect on him.”

“Chase Adams, ever the peacemaker.  What would I do without you?”

“Enjoy the peace and quiet?”

“Cute.”  A familiar light rap at the door prompted Chase
to drop his hands and head toward it.  Chandler dropped Taylor’s hand just long enough to pull his father into a hug.

“Long time no see, Daddy,” he joshed.

Chase laughed.  “Good to see you, son.  You look well.”

“Blame her.”  His eyes swept toward Taylor.

“Welcome to our home, young lady.  Come on in, you two.”

She kissed Chase on the cheek.  “Thank you for inviting us, sir. 
Your home is as beautiful as I remember it.”

He chuckled.   “And you can blame Bryn for that.”

Chandler glanced around.  “Is Mom still in the kitchen?”

“She’s just pulling the main course from the oven.  Why don’t you two wait in the living room and I’ll call on you when it’s ready.”

Less than five minutes later they were seated around the table, just the four of them, taking in the aromas of yet another incredible meal.

Chandler hummed contentedly; Taylo
r recognized it as a bedroom sound and grinned to herself.  “What’s in this, Mom?  Smells unbelievable.”

Bryn smiled at his kind words.  “
A little honey, a lot of ketchup, and a few spices.  Just a new recipe I’ve been perfecting.”

“Miss Bryn?” Taylor said cautiously.

Bryn shook her head.  “You don’t have to be so formal, sweetheart.  Just ‘Bryn’ is fine.”

She nodded a bit nervously, wanting desperately for any residual animosity Chandler
’s parents might have toward her to be eradicated.  “Back in New York, your cookbooks were a Godsend.  My mother didn’t pass her cooking skills onto me, although not for lack of trying.  When I needed something extra-special for a reception at work or a baby shower, you were my go-to.”

Bryn’s face warmed.  “Thank you, Taylor.  It means a lot to receive that kind of feedback.  That’s why I keep doing what I do.  Did you follow my blog as well?”

“I did, and I promoted it to anyone who I knew would be interested.”

Chandler laid a hand atop hers.  “See?  She’s a great salesperson.”

Chase prompted his son to start eating and stop gabbing.  “Dig in,” he said firmly, “and enjoy.”

The meal went well, with Chase generally directing the conversation.  Bryn yielded to
him, mainly because she talked with Chandler on a more regular basis than he did, even if it was just a few minutes here and there on the phone, or a via brief emails.  Chase had always preferred face-to-face interactions—not an easy thing now that Chandler spent most of his time in town.  Without tearing Chandler prematurely away from his business venture, she ruminated that having him settle down, come back home to the ranch wouldn’t be such a bad thing—so long as it was what he wanted. 

After dinner
Bryn asked Taylor to remain in the kitchen with her while she cleaned up, and Chase and Chandler ambled off toward the living room to talk, as Chase so eloquently put it, “man to man”.  Taylor watched apprehensively as Bryn loaded the dishwasher.

“Do you n
eed any help, Bryn?” 

She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and smiled at Taylor.  “No, I’m okay.  If it’s just Chase and me, I usually have leftovers—but not when Chandler’s under this roof.”

“Do you miss cooking for a large family?”

Bryn nodded.  “Sometime
s.  There’s always the holidays, of course, to keep me busy.  And some permutation of grandkids running around.  They like my cooking, too, thankfully.”

“You must be so proud of your ch
ildren,” Taylor assumed.  “They aren’t just family—they’re all friends.”

Bryn started the dishwasher and joined her, both of them seated at the counter.  “You are like me in that respect, Taylor—as only children we were always outsiders, a little different, had to learn to cope with our loneliness.  I hope you don’t think me
too forward, saying all of that.”

“No,” Taylor answered, raising a hand in reassurance.  “You’re right.  A part of me envied their relationship.  Christa and Alison wer
e gone most of the time and the boys tightened up as a unit.”

“That they did,” Bryn agre
ed.  “And I used to worry they were doing something illegal, but they were never arrested, nor did they ever miss a day of work on the ranch.”  Uneasy laughter passed between them.  “Taylor?”

“Yes?”

“This may be too forward of me, as well, but are you and Chandler getting serious?”

She nodded.  “I think so.  Look, I pushed him away with too much haste, and was too young and stupid to realize how happy he made me.  In spite of what happened then, those mistakes that I regret, he forgave me easily. 
I love him for who he is now.  I’m not simply holding onto a memory and hoping to build a future around it.  I don’t know if it makes any sense but that’s how I feel.”

“Your words, and your feelings, seem genuine,” Bryn replied evenly.  “If I seem overbearing, it’s
only because I want what’s best for my son.”

“Believe me,” Taylor countered, “you are far from overbearing.  Alison and Christa have
been quick to take me under their wing, but I’d like to spend more time getting reacquainted with you.”

Bryn took her hand
and squeezed it affectionately.  “I’d like that, too.”

***

Chandler finished reading the article and handed the magazine back to his father. “What do you think about that?”

He shook his head.  “I don’t know, Dad.  Something about their findings doesn’t
jibe with me.”

“Can’t argue with that.”  He closed the periodical and laid it atop the coffee table.  “It made your mom really happy, you coming out here tonight.”

Chandler met his father’s blue eyes, found them indecipherable.  “Why wouldn’t I have come?”

“No reason in particular.”  His face, lined with age and wisdom, relaxed.  “I think she’s just worried you’ll forget about us old folks.”

He gave his father a sidelong glance.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were putting pressure on me to move back home…like yesterday.”

Chase clasped his hands together in self-reproach.  “Sorry, son.  That wasn’t my intention.
”  He smiled faintly at his youngest son.  “You’ll find someday, when you have kids of your own, that it’s pretty difficult to turn off the parental-worry feature hardwired into your brain.” 

Chandler dipped his head toward the floor, feeling sentimental.  “Call me mawkish, but I hope I’m just like you when I grow up.”

Chase laughed, slapped him playfully on the shoulder.  “Just don’t let that happen too fast, okay?”  Chandler nodded with a bright grin.  Chase cleared his throat and took in a calming breath.  “You and Taylor getting serious?”

“Definitely.”

“You answered pretty fast, son.”

“I don’t know what else to say, Dad.  It’s barely
been two months but she brought that missing piece to my life.  It feels like I could tell her anything, and she wouldn’t judge me.  I don’t know.”  He lowered his voice in pitch.  “Sometimes I’m worried that I’m just her knight in shining armor, trying to rescue her, nurse her back to health like a wounded bird.  Only she doesn’t need that.  She just needs a man to treat her like she’s strong enough to overcome anything, because she is.  She’s already proven that with no help from me.”

Chase smiled with th
e knowledge of a man who’d been there himself.  “Sometimes it’s enough just to make a woman smile.  I know that sounds simple, maybe even trite, but it’s the God’s honest truth.”

“Dad, how’d you get so smart?”

“Just dumb luck,” he said with a self-effacing shrug.  “But don’t tell your mom—she’ll start wanting me for something besides my body.”

“Don’t worry,” he replied jokingly.  “Your secret is safe with me.”

***

Taylor turned her head to the left, stared at Chandler’s face, illuminated by the soft interio
r lights of his truck.  They were headed back to town, headlights cutting through the cold Wyoming night.  “I’m worried that your mom dislikes me.” 

Chandler kept his eyes fixed on the road
, replied to her adroitly.  “You’re at somewhat of a disadvantage because Mom already had built-in affection for Alison and Mark.  But I’m pretty sure she likes you. Besides, you’re the only girlfriend of mine that she’s ever met.”

“Seriously?  None of the others?”

“Nope.”  He afforded her a quick glance.  “Like I told you before, I was rarely home in those days.  Mom and Dad offered to come and see me, but I wouldn’t hear of it.  I didn’t want them disrupting their lives.”

“Or maybe,” she deduced, “you were afraid they’d beg you to come home?”

“Maybe,” he echoed.  His eyelashes flicked in the dim light.  “Was it okay?  The meal, I mean.  Hanging out with my mom.”

“It was great,” she said, her voice uneven.  “Seriously, I enjoyed it.  I just worried I was saying all of the wrong things.”

BOOK: The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga)
2.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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