“I will, Mom. I promise.” He softened his tone, gave her a look that said he knew he was being an ass. Then he teased her, an interim apology. “You’re such a mom.”

  Her gaze warmed. “Yes, I am. Remember, I have church tonight. We’re going to work on pricing the bazaar items afterward, so I may run late.”

  She waved to Daralyn and Johnny and then she was back in the parking lot, getting in her car and heading out. Rory returned to what he was doing at the counter, but he was conscious of Daralyn, working only a few feet away, her shoulders tense.

  Dealing with the bad things that had shaped her into what she was now didn’t make her less in his eyes. Far from it. He could tell her that all day, but the best way to do that was by example.

  Being an adult could be such a pain in the ass.

  He turned toward Daralyn, drawing her attention. “I’m sorry,” he said. He included Johnny in his glance. “Neither of you deserved the attitude. And, if you’re okay with it still, I’m going to head out early.”

  The words tried to stick in his throat, but he shoved them out, a rough throat clearing. “I’ll be at the house, so if things get busy, call me and I’ll come back in.”

  “You got it, man.”

  Rory shifted his gaze back to Daralyn. “When you get done, if you want, you could come by. I’ll be in the hammock in the backyard.”

  “That’s so sweet of you, dude, but only if it’s a double wide so we can snuggle.”

  Rory shot Johnny a look as Daralyn bit back a smile. “Shut up, asshole.”

  Johnny grinned and fortunately headed off toward storage. Rory moved out from behind the counter, drawing closer to Daralyn. “If you want to bring your school stuff, it’s a nice spot for studying. I promise not to be an ogre.”

  “First time for everything,” Johnny called over his shoulder.

  “I’m going to replace you with Brenda Lee,” Rory said, referencing Johnny’s border collie. “She’s smarter, and I can pay her in sausage balls.”

  Johnny’s chuckle drifted back before he disappeared entirely. Daralyn gave him another little smile and Rory extended his hand. “Come here.”

  She’d lowered her gaze, but now it snapped back up. “Rory. You’re bleeding.”

  He followed her glance down. He didn’t see it, not until she closed the distance and squatted by the chair, pointing. He shifted his weight, bracing himself on his push rim so he could lift his hip. It was an awkward angle, so he still had to reach down to feel. There was a rip in his jeans, and the back of his right thigh was wet. Fucking hell. When he’d fallen out of the chair and rolled, he must have caught himself on something, like the metal step plate. The old tractor had plenty of rough edges.

  A deeper probe said it wasn’t something he could clean up and band-aid. Shit. He should have checked himself right away. He knew better. But he’d been so knotted up over how he’d acted around Daralyn—and privately relieved as hell he hadn’t soiled himself from the stress. All he’d wanted was to move as fast as possible back to “normal” around her. Which meant he hadn’t done the self-care he normally would have done.

  He had acted like a fucking twelve-year-old trying to impress a girl.

  Well, no worries about that anymore. Now he had to deal with this, even if it knocked his pride down lower than an ant’s knees. “Crap,” he said, trying to keep it light. “Tell Johnny I need a ride to the urgent care.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I need you to run the store. I’ll have Johnny give Amanda a shout and ask if she can come back you up. Hey.” He touched her tense face. “I just need to have it cleaned and looked at. It’s okay. I’m okay.” Though he was betting he was going to need a couple stitches, since the blood was still seeping, despite him putting pressure on it from his seated position.

  “Okay,” she said, but he could tell it didn’t make her happy.

  “It’s all good,” he told her. “Promise.”

  After Rory and Johnny left, taking Rory’s van, Daralyn couldn’t stop thinking about him, worrying.

  He’d been upset when he thought they’d called Elaine. She understood Rory didn’t want to be treated like a child, but knowing her presence contributed to that embarrassment, that her opinion of him mattered, was something she found stunning.

  Witnessing anyone demonstrating care and love, whether it was between mother and son, friends, siblings, husbands and wives… Even after five years away from the way her life had been, she still found it a special miracle that people not only cared about one another, but would offer it so openly.

  She kept glancing at her phone, though he’d barely had time to get to the urgent care, let alone check in and be seen. Since his jeans had been stained but he’d been sitting in a smear of blood, not a puddle, maybe it was in a spot that just kept breaking open if he shifted. She’d noticed he did that frequently during the day, something he told her helped prevent pressure sores.

  Johnny texted Daralyn that Amanda was on her way and, sure enough, she arrived in a few minutes. Amanda also worked at the drugstore in town, which was why she was studying to be a pharmacy tech, to earn more money and take on greater responsibilities.

  Rory had teased her about Amanda, and Daralyn guessed she did have mixed feelings about the girl. Amanda had been a cheerleader. She was still pretty, always put together, her hair and makeup perfect. She possessed a curvy body that made every man, young or old, take a look.

  All that was fine, but it wasn’t why she bugged Daralyn. Rory had dated Amanda in high school. He’d liked her, been attracted her, but what he had with her now was different. Deeper. Amanda had gone out with Rory after his accident.

  Even though they weren’t dating now, and Amanda had no obvious designs on Rory, being around the girl made Daralyn feel small and uncertain, unexpectedly resentful at times. Since Daralyn picked up a lot of town gossip from the comings and goings of customers, she knew Amanda had been dating Marty French for some time now. He ran the town jewelry store, and everyone said it was getting serious between them.

  Knowing Amanda was with someone helped Daralyn deal with her confusing mix of feelings toward the girl. Plus, Amanda was nothing but nice toward her, even if there was a stiff formality to it, as if they both seemed unable to figure out what to say to one another.

  It also wasn’t the first time she’d worked with Amanda in the store, though usually Rory, Elaine or Johnny were here as a buffer. Thankfully, Amanda didn’t ask her to talk much. They handled the flow of customers, and in between those moments, Amanda pitched in without complaint to help Daralyn price a new shipment of tools.

  When her phone beeped, Amanda pulled it out of the back pocket of her snug jeans and glanced at it. “Hey, Johnny said he’s headed to Rory’s to drop him off. He had to have three stitches, but he’s all good.”

  Three stitches. Daralyn’s hands shook and she put down the drill bits she’d been measuring. But it was okay. He was okay. She really wished she’d gone with him. But she managed to say the proper thing in an even enough tone.

  “Oh. That’s good, then.” Her phone had remained dark. That made sense. Rory was the patient and he likely hadn’t had a chance to text, and Johnny knew Amanda was here. It still made Daralyn feel left out.

  “Hey, how about when Johnny gets here, you head on over to check on him? The two of us can cover things. And tell Rory he’s not paying me. This definitely falls under the friends-helping-friends category.”

  At Daralyn’s undecided look, Amanda drew closer, and her expression was kind. “I can tell you’re really worried about him. Really, I don’t mind covering. And if anything comes up tonight where he needs something from the pharmacy, tell him he can call me. I can access the over-the-counter stuff after hours.”

  “That’s really nice. Thanks.” Daralyn struggled to smile, but it failed.

  “Aw, sweetie, you’re really gone over him, aren’t you?” Amanda continued before Daralyn could decide if she needed to flee the conversation. “I’m so glad. He’s one of the really good ones, you know? Like Marty. Some of the girls I went to school with, all they could think about was getting out of here, going to bigger cities and meeting these guys who they thought had seen and done so much more than the guys around here. And doing things like that themselves.”

  Amanda shrugged. “That’s cool, and okay, and probably pretty true. But to my way of thinking, building a nest where you’re happy is more important than building it somewhere that impresses other people. Gotta follow your heart. That’s the most important thing.”

  Amanda grimaced. “Sorry, I’m just rambling, but you look really worried. Sometimes you’re like being around a deer. Not sure if what I say will spook you or not.”

  It was the most straightforward thing she’d ever said to Daralyn, and there was no meanness in the observation. Maybe because she was worried about Rory, really wanting to be with him, Daralyn’s ability to make appropriate small talk, never her best skill, failed her.

  “I don’t know how to feel about you,” she said abruptly. “I don’t know…how to deal with some things the way other people do.”

  Amanda sent her a shrewd look. “Like me and Rory having been together.”

  Daralyn bit her lip. “Um…that’s none of my business. That’s between you and Rory, and I respect his privacy. As well as yours. It’s okay.”

  “I have a feeling it is your business. And this is between us girls.” Amanda gave her a conspiratorial smile. “Rory and I had our time, and it was good. Really good. But we never connected heart to heart, if that makes sense. When we were teens, we had a good time and enjoyed one another, and we thought about more, the way teenagers will, but we’re not meant for the long haul together.”

  Daralyn thought about that. “How are your studies going?” she ventured shyly. “For the pharmacy tech job?”

  “Oh, really good.” Amanda brightened, reminding Daralyn of how she felt about her own classes. “I’ve been learning so much, and Bill, our pharmacist, is so encouraging. He’s been helping me by…”

  As Amanda’s enthusiasm for her career path broke through, any tension Daralyn had about her and Rory’s connection ebbed away. The woman’s kindness was genuine.

  Even after five years, that too was unexpected. Though she dutifully followed Dr. Taylor’s suggestions, Daralyn could never shake the uneasiness that said the people she trusted the most could decide she wasn’t worth their time, because she was too damaged. Not connected to them by blood, not really belonging.

  She wondered what it would be like, to go to bed at night without the fear she would wake in the morning and find it had all been a dream. She’d still be in a tiny room, every thought she had competing with the incessant drone of her father’s television, the stale smell of cigarettes, and the dull edge of an empty belly. The futile hope underneath it all, that something new would happen to change the colorless routine of her bleak waking hours.

  Her phone buzzed and she stole a look at it.

  Hammock offer stands. I’m good. You worry too much.

  “He just texted you,” Amanda said, grinning. “I could tell. You got all doe-eyed. Want to talk about how dreamy our guys are? Marty gets this intense look when he’s fixing jewelry that makes my knees weak. I know just how stupid that sounds, so quick, tell me something equally dumb so I won’t feel like a lovesick idiot.”

  A slow smile crossed Daralyn’s face. “When Rory’s doing the financials for the store, he gets very focused. He’ll prop his hand on the counter and stroke his beard. The computer light will catch his eyes. They’re brown, but when that happens, they have touches of gold. He has a lock of hair that falls over his forehead here,” she passed her fingers over her own, “And I always want to brush it back, just so it will fall back down and I can do it again.”

  Amanda blinked. “Wow. You need to talk more often, Daralyn.”

  Les and Julie had on occasion set up impromptu “slumber parties” for the three of them in Les’s room, during holidays when they were both here. That was when Daralyn had learned about Rory and Amanda’s past together. She’d often listened to giggling exchanges like this about men. But she’d never had someone, not part of Rory’s family or their inner circle, engage her in such a conversation. It made her nervous and happy at once, especially when Amanda’s grin widened.

  “Okay, so let’s move on to arms. Who knew a jeweler would have biceps like creek rock? When we go out to a restaurant, I like curling my hand over Marty’s, leaning against him, while we’re reading the menu.”

  Rory’s arms were incredibly strong. Daralyn loved the feel of them around her. She nodded, an agreement that Amanda apparently realized was about Rory, not Marty. A conversation where the subject was a matter of the heart, so they both understood it.

  Throughout her journey away from that small, dark room, people had told her a lot of things about how things would get better. However, it was in moments like these, where she saw it could actually happen, that she made a noticeable step forward, away from that uneasiness.

  Nothing more than a lack of understanding and unfounded fears had stood between her and a friendship with Amanda. Her first friendship made on her own.

  Johnny’s truck was pulling back in. “I think I will go check on him,” Daralyn told her new friend. “Thank you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  She found him in the wide rope hammock in his backyard, just like he’d said. He’d brought a couple pillows out and had his head on one, his knee propped up on the other. Thanks to a loose pair of shorts, the bandaged wound on his thigh had air between it and the ropes.

  He wasn’t wearing anything else, the sculpted beauty of his upper body, all muscular, smooth curves and masculine angles, available to her appreciative gaze. Autumn in their part of North Carolina was often sprinkled with warmer days, remnants of the past summer season. She was very grateful this was one of those days.

  It was more than Amanda’s influence that made her especially notice. It was last night, too. She’d thought about it a hundred different ways today, him touching her, being inside her. She’d lingered over the moments when he’d let her touch him, her fingertips trailing over the same terrain she was looking at now. He’d reacted in such a memorable way when she put her mouth on his throat, his shoulders, explored his upper body.

  It made her want to do more of it. Like when she kissed him at the tractor, and she’d felt the energy gather beneath her touch, just from caressing his chest and shoulders.

  Her gaze slid to his legs. In addition to PT, he did what he called passive range of motion exercises to help their circulation and keep the muscle in them from atrophying. Though they lacked the obvious strength and vibrancy of his upper body, the skin was healthy, a light layer of dark hair on his shins and thighs matching the gleaming mat on his chest. The five o’clock shadow above his neatly trimmed beard gave him a rakish look.

  His brown eyes had locked upon her the moment she emerged around the corner of the house. The way he watched her come toward him put butterflies in her stomach. He wanted to touch her, too, something that made her skin tingle all the places he’d touched her last night. Which had been basically everywhere.

  “Hey,” he said. “Teach me to overreact next time, right?”

  “I’m glad you’re all right,” she responded. In that moment by the tractor, her own calmness had taken her by surprise, summoning a person inside herself she hadn’t expected. One capable of directing Johnny and Mac back in the store and caring for Rory in the way needed. Protecting him had been more important to her than anything, even her own fears or the grip of her own weaknesses.

  There was a pair of outdoor chairs close to the hammock and a table between them. She put her backpack on it as he extended a hand to her.

  “I’ll let you do your schoolwork, promise, but come lie here with me first.”

  She put her hips on the edge and, as he gripped her hand and tugged, the demands of gravity helped her bring her legs up and then roll her against him. It made her smile, and then feel other, deeper things, because he was ready, curling a possessive arm around her to bring her right up against him. It seemed natural to drape over him, her leg over his uninjured one, her arm across his chest, hand cupped over his shoulder.

  He’d said she could kiss him anytime, and she thought that also applied to her touch on his upper body. So she flattened her palm over his heart, moving her fingers in slow strokes over his warm flesh, down to his nipple and combing through the chest hair. He brushed his lips over her temple as she explored, nuzzled her, teased her, moving down her cheekbone as she lifted her face to his. His hand slid over her chin and throat, thumb tracing her collar bone. Her whole body wanted to melt against the strength of his, her thigh tightening over him. When his arm around her shifted, his palm cupping her buttock, squeezing, she pressed closer.

  He broke the kiss after a lingering moment, but kept his hand where it was, making slow circles, caresses, that had tingles shooting through her thighs and up between them, all the way up to her throat and mouth. How his eyes lingered on her lips enhanced the feeling. Exacerbated it. New word.

  “I don’t need to do schoolwork,” she said. “I finished most of it last night.”

  His lips curved. “Then what’s in the bag?”

  “My notebook, and a book from the library. It’s one that Dr. Taylor recommended to me, about Irish immigrant children who were transported out west in the late 1800s and early 1900s.” When she’d started reading it last night, she knew why Dr. Taylor had recommended Orphan Train to her. The life of the orphans, their feelings about how unpredictable life was, how they could never plan or count on anything, was familiar. As was their inability to trust, even when it seemed life had stabilized, improved. And they’d been real people, struggling with some of the same things Daralyn was, only about a hundred years ago.

  “Dr. Taylor seems like good people. I met with her today.” Rory’s gaze held hers. “She said you were okay with that.”