My Mistake (Stories of Serendipity #7) (16 page)

Her mouth was open, no longer chewing, and her eyes were wide. “You rode at night?”

Brent smiled ruefully, “Yeah. That’s what got me. I was out with Dash, and we were going too fast. We both missed something in front of us, and he collided with it, going ass over head on top of me. I should have been killed. Instead, I make metal detectors go off when I’m buck-naked. Dash had to be put down.” A tear leaked out of his eye at the memory of his Dash, screaming and writhing in pain, more broken bones than treatable. He’d railed at the vets, who’d only shook their heads and lectured about how his irresponsible actions had cost him the life of his horse.

His best friend.

“That’s how the pills really got started. I started out taking them as prescribed, but figured out quickly that while I was taking the pills, my mind didn’t wander down dark paths as much. Vicadin was great. But Xanax was better. I could pair them up and walk around relaxed and happy for the first time in years. The more I took, the better I felt. It was amazing.”

“I started taking more and more, and then my doctor quit prescribing them, so I shopped around. I had a routine. There were four doctors that I went to regularly, and four pharmacies that I had my scripts filled at. I told them all I was a farrier, and based on my x-rays, they had no questions that I needed the meds, so they gave them to me.”

He didn’t say anything else for a while, letting his words sink in. He wanted her to know everything, so he needed to give her time to absorb it all. When he looked at her again, she was leaning back in her chair, her fingers steepled under her chin.

“If it was so great, why did you stop?”

He interlaced his fingers over his head, resting them there, and realized it relieved some pressure on his ribs, so he left them there.

“I ran across a suspicious nurse, initially. She worked for two of the doctors I was seeing. She said something to me, and got me thinking. Then I remembered the people I loved, Nana, Summer, and…you. And I realized that I would do more harm than good if I stayed on that path. I’d done the pills for over six years, up to an average of forty pills a day, and needed help getting off of them. So I picked a new doctor, and started treatment. The Buprenorphine. I see a counselor too. Have been for almost two years. It’s a gradual treatment, beginning with large doses, to mimic the pills, then you wean yourself off the strips. I’ve been at half a strip for six months. The doctor told me I’ll be ready to get off this dose in a couple more months, then I’ll be clean.”

“What did I have to do with anything?”

The question startled him. Didn’t she know? “You’re everything, Casey.”

“What? You’d been gone for years by that time. I’d been gone! How could any of this been because of me?”

“Wait a minute. Nothing was because of you. It was because of my reactions to you. I’ve been hung up on you my entire life, Case. Can’t you see that? You weren’t in my life anymore, so I thought that my recklessness would make my life better, give me a reason. It’s like that song, I hurt myself to feel. Then when the drugs got to be too much, I imagined what my life would be like with you in it, and how the drugs had no place there. You were a reason for me to quit, and I grabbed that idea and held fast.”

“But I was married by then, you had no idea I was coming back.” Her words were quiet and breathless, and made Brent want to hold her.

“Will you come here, please?” He patted the sofa next to him, praying she would come, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when she did. “It’s always been you, Case. Even if it was just the idea of you, you’ve always been what’s kept me going. I have no idea what kind of person I would be if I’d never met you.” He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing as tightly as he could, breathing through the pain in his side.

Her arms wrapped around him, and he didn’t have the heart to tell her it hurt like hell. It just felt so good to have her next to him again. “Can you forgive me?” She wasn’t looking at him, which wasn’t a good sign, but she was hugging him, which was a good start.

She didn’t answer, which was another bad sign. Brent held his breath. He could feel her breathing onto his chest, shallow gasps that told him she was holding back tears. A memory of holding her like this after one of her dad’s binges sucker punched him. He’d screwed up irrevocably.

“Never mind. I understand.”

She released him and leaned back, looking him over. “No, Brent. I don’t think you do. This…This is…” She stood and crossed her arms over her chest. He could see her forearms tremor as she forced her hands into her armpits. “This is crazy.” The intensity of her voice scared him.

“Casey…” A truck rumbling up his driveway turned her head away from him. He sighed, not knowing if he was relieved at the interruption or not.

“I should go. It looks like you have more company. I don’t want to be…in the way.” Casey looked annoyed by whoever she could see out the window. He couldn’t shift himself in the right position to see what she could.

“Wait. I’ll tell whoever it is that now’s not a good time.”

“I can’t do this right now, anyway. Goodbye Brent.”

Casey turned and held up her head as she offered a tight smile to whomever she held the door open for. Brent waited with more than a little trepidation to see who it was.

Lindsey. Perfect.

He’d only seen her twice since the night she’d thrown herself at him in the quarantine barn; once at the diner in passing, and once when he’d gone into town to pick up the medicine for the skittish mare. They had been awkwardly pleasant with each other.

“Hi Brent.” She offered a radiant smile, her hair flowing down around her shoulders. He noticed she was wearing a skirt, which was unusual, and a beaded tank top. She looked better than normal, but still not as good as the mess in her pajamas that had just left.

“Hey, Lindsey,” he offered, his stomach roiling. He wanted her to leave, but he didn’t want to be rude. Nana had taught him better. “I would stand, but…well, you know.” He gestured to his broken body helplessly.

“Oh no! I came to help you, Brent.” Her smile dazzled, and Brent’s nerves were suddenly on high alert. “You’re the one who’s wounded. What can I do?”

“Um…nothing much, Lindsey. Summer, Max, and Les have been helping me out. I’m actually doing better than I deserve right now.”

“Who was that woman who just left?” Lindsey raised one eyebrow pointedly. “Has she been helping you out too?”

“Casey Stewart. She’s one of my oldest friends.” That was all he dared offer her. He had no idea if Lindsey was the vindictive sort, he’d discovered long ago that with women, you really couldn’t tell by looking. And he’d turned her down, while at the same time running after Casey like a bull chasing a heifer in heat.

“Well…” Sitting next to Brent on the couch, her finger trailed lazily up and down his forearm. “I just wanted you to know…” Lindsey bit her lip, and Brent could tell whatever she was going to say was difficult for her. He felt a pang of regret. If things had been different, they might have been able to have a fling. Or something. “I meant what I said the other night. You’re real attractive, and I’m not going to push anything, but I want you to know the offer still stands.”

Brent sighed. “I meant what I said the other night, too. I don’t do relationships.”

Her eyes cut to the side, briefly. “What about Casey? Honestly, y’all look like more than friends to me.”

“She’s the only exception, Lindsey. And if we look like more than friends, why are you here?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I just wanted to give it one last shot.” Standing, she straightened her skirt. “Can’t blame a girl for trying?” He managed a smile that he was pretty sure looked more relieved than anything. “Do you need anything before I go?”

Brent shook his head, wanting the awkwardness to end. Mercifully, Lindsey turned with a wave and walked out the door. Brent exhaled and cringed when a stab of pain flared in his torso.

Why? Why had Lindsey picked this time, of all the times to stop in for a visit? She’d run Casey off, right when she was going to tell him what she thought. He’d spilled everything to her, and then she’d left. What did that mean?

Brent tried to heave himself to his feet, but blinding pain pushed him back on the sofa. He was stuck there with his thoughts until Summer came back four hours later.

“Have you been sitting there this entire time? How’d it go with Casey?” Summer floated into the room like a hummingbird, her arms full of groceries. She didn’t stop for an answer, going straight past him to the kitchen. When he didn’t answer, she came back one hand on a hip. “Well?”

“I need to throw up.” He’d been holding back the urge all afternoon, but without any Tylenol or ibuprofen, his muscles had stiffened up, and he couldn’t move. He didn’t want to throw up all over himself and his floor. So, he’d sat there, swallowing, breathing as deeply as he could, and trying not to think about it. Which left thoughts about Casey. Which made him want to throw up more.

Summer ran into the bathroom, coming back with his small trashcan, and set it between his feet, sitting herself on the coffee table to watch him.

He emptied the contents of his stomach into the small plastic receptacle, groaning with pain at each heave, and Summer put it on the porch, then went into the kitchen for a glass of water and some Motrin.

“Vomiting is a sign of brain swelling…” Summer said quietly. “Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

“No. It’s not the concussion.” Brent took the offered pills and swallowed the glass of water. “I sat here for four hours after Casey left and the Tylenol wore off.”

Nothing felt fine anymore. He’d had fractured ribs, and concussions, though not at the same time. He worked with horses, he had for years. It came with the territory. What was wrong with him had everything to do with Casey.

“What happened with Casey?” Summer repeated herself, but this time she rested her hand on his arm sympathetically.

“I’m not sure.” He tried to stand, but still couldn’t do it by himself without pain radiating like a mushroom cloud through his chest. Summer tried, but her five foot nothing frame couldn’t do much with his six foot three musculature. Collapsing back onto the couch with a groan, he continued. “Just leave me here. Put the medicine on the table with some water and bring a blanket. I’ll get up eventually, or I won’t.”

“I’m fixing you some supper, so go ahead and tell me what happened.”

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, resting his arms on his head. “I told her everything, and then Lindsey showed up, and Casey left.” He felt hollow now, the contents of his stomach emptied. Hearing the words spoken out loud left him devoid of any emotion except helplessness.

“Lindsey? Who’s that?”

“She’s my vet. I’m afraid she’s got the wrong impression of me. Or the right one, but horrible timing.”

“What do you mean?” Summer put one hand on a hip, and Brent knew that look. He didn’t have the energy to deal with his sister’s meddling right now. “Did she make a play for you in front of Casey?”

“No. But I’m still afraid Casey got the wrong idea. Lindsey wasn’t exactly wearing work clothes.”

“Did she say something in front of Casey?”

Brent had had enough. “Summer, look. I don’t really feel like getting into all this right now.” He pleaded with his stubborn sister. “Please?”

“So what are you going to do now?”

“The only thing I’m capable of. Sit here and wallow.” He shrugged, grimacing at the movement. “I can’t really do much else.”

“Bullshit.” Something hit his lap. He opened his eyes and saw his cell phone. “You can call her. She might have had time to digest it, and maybe she can talk more now. You can focus on something besides your pain for a little while. You can talk to Max or Les about it, maybe they’ll have a different interpretation for you.”

“They don’t need to listen to my problems.”

“They’re your friends, Brent. They love you. And they know how hung up on Casey you’ve been your entire life. They may have suggestions for you.” She thought a little bit. “Maybe you need a fresh perspective, from someone who doesn’t know the entire history.”

He scoffed at that. Enough people in his life knew his sordid history. He didn’t need anybody else to know.

She stood and went into the kitchen, and soon Brent heard the sounds of rattling bags and stacking cans along with the fridge door opening and closing as she put away the groceries. “I think you should go for a walk. Work out some kinks in your muscles.”

That actually didn’t sound like a bad idea, Brent thought. Just as soon as he could lift himself from the couch…

C
asey sat cross-legged in her bed, soft music playing in the background, scented candles lit all around the room. Smells of jasmine and sandalwood floated around her. Her eyes were closed, and she was imagining Brent’s body, his naked torso specifically. She focused on a healing light of energy radiating outward, mending his fractured ribs and bringing him comfort. The light was warm, and she saw the pain lines on his face ease as the warmth filled his body, as the light slowly healed cracks in the bones, leaving smooth calcium in its wake. She imagined him moving, standing, and walking without pain, while the white light filled his body.

She was using her visualization on Brent, and it was calming her nerves. When she’d left his house, she’d been so angry at him. She’d driven home in a near rage, but when she’d gotten here, the anger was gone, leaving her impotent, useless. She couldn’t focus on any one task. She’d been unable to even sit still. So she tried out a relaxation technique, which segued to the visualization exercise, and now she felt much better. She wasn’t sure how Brent felt, but she felt like she’d done something useful for him, without actually spending time with him.

She loved Brent Baum. She always had. But recent events had made her furious, and she knew more than anything how useless that emotion was. All it did was waste energy on her part. She could be mad at Brent all she wanted, she could spend the rest of her life hating him, and it would have no physical effect on him whatsoever. And she would lose years of her life on those negative emotions, with nothing to show for it.