River's Return (River's End Series, #3) (6 page)

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

He shrugged. “I fix cars, tractors, and bikes, anything that has an engine, or uses electricity. Sometimes I even build a new ride. I work my own hours, ‘cause it’s my own shop.”

“Still, I had no right to assume anything about you, or not.”

She was really sorry and he sensed her regret. He held her gaze across the small glass table. There was something different about her. Maybe it was her sincerity in how she accepted her life: her job, her neighbors, herself, and now him. She was always genuine and honest in anything she said or did. He had to respect that because honestly, he lacked sincerity in almost everything he did.

“Hell, you aren’t too far off. I’m not even a fifth of how successful I could be. I half ass my shop. I could do a lot more and a lot better. So… it’s okay, really.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Why don’t I what?”

“Do a lot better if you can? Why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t—” He almost said
know
. He truly didn’t know why he chose not to do more, or even try to make it better. Jack and Ian had been hounding him for a decade to do more, and make other improvements. Put in a full five days of work every week. Get more clients. Hire some workers. Run the damn business! Shane didn’t do anything but the bare minimum. “I just don’t. I prefer traveling. I don’t stay around town much.”

“But you always come back? You still have a business?”

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, sure.”

“Why own a business if you don’t want it? Why not make it a hobby? Or pay people under the table? Why pretend that it’s official if you’re not really interested in pursuing it?”

He had no damn answer. He never really thought it out in such a context before. “Just so Jack will stay off my ass.”

She stared him right in the eye, something not many people did. He shifted around and almost asked her,
What? What did she see?

“You don’t kowtow to Jack. Or anyone else. I clearly know that about you. So that can’t be it.”

“Why would you say that?”

Her gaze leveled him and nearly had him squirming around in discomfort. No wonder she was a teacher. If she could make Shane fidget and twist while searching for lame excuses, imagine what she could do to little kids.

“Because you don’t give even an inch of yourself to anyone. Not to Celia. Or Jack. Or even Charlie. No one really gets past your charming, macho swagger. It’s a good cover, Shane. Really, it is. But it fails to mask your insistence on avoiding any lasting connections. Your shop being half-assed is probably just an extension of that. Live free or die trying. That seems to be your motto in life.”

He snorted. “Live free or die trying? Fuck, yeah, teacher. Who’d have guessed you could so clearly get me?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think there’s too much danger in that. I’m not the person who gets you. Nor you me. I mean, look at us. We’re like—” Her forehead wrinkled as she tried to pick a comparison.

He knew what she meant. “We’re like a kitten and a jaguar. Or a puppy and a wolf; or a teddy bear and a grizzly bear, or…”

She picked up her glass and swirled the contents before smiling. “Yes, like any of those. Me being the kitten, puppy, or teddy bear, of course.”

He grinned. “Of course. I’m too damn tough to be anything less than a grizzly.” He didn’t allow his hesitation to give him away. There was something about her cool tone of voice and her obvious intelligence that he found intimidating as hell. Somehow, he knew none of his usual tricks or lines would dupe her. Even if he tried to convince her, which he most definitely did not want to do. No. No way. He wasn’t interested in a carrot-topped, prim, school teacher who had more academic smarts in her little pinky than he had in his entire body.

“Yes, well, I think it clearly shows we’re about as opposite as nature allows. But you know, despite being opposites, you’re kind of freaking interesting.”

She nodded her head and sort of acquiesced. “Well, thank you, and the same to you.”

Even simple statements of normal conversation sounded like royal decrees from her mouth. She was just so damn cool and smooth. He was hot-tempered, mouthy, dramatic, and sometimes, even crass. Yet her even tones and subtle intelligence both intimidated and called out to him. In a way, perhaps a real long stretch of a way, he saw something attractive about Allison Gray. Was it her poise? Or her confidence? Or the kind of closed off way she looked at him? He really had no clue what she thought about, either in general, or about him.

“There’s Celia,” Allison said suddenly after glancing back at the house. He sighed. Yes, there was Celia clad in a thin robe that she clutched around her middle. She was scowling at them. “You should probably get back to her.”

“I should,” he said, still sitting. Slowly, he lifted the beer bottle to his lips and took a long, cool drink showing no signs to get up and leave. All the while, Celia scowled at him before turning on her bare foot and stomping back inside.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Depends? Is it in reference to my lacking a moral compass again?”

“No. Well, kind of. Are you happy?”

He lowered the drink to the table and started rubbing off the paper label. “Am I happy about what?”

“This situation. I mean, I gather she isn’t your only…”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting to see what term she would use to describe his ladies, or his fuck-bunnies, or his pussy palaces, or his… well, on and on went all the entertaining names for his women. Now he was perched on the edge of the seat, waiting to hear what teacher called it.

“…Partner. Celia seems to be one of many. Does being intimate with her in another man’s house do something special for you? Does it make it more of a thrill? Or make you feel like you’re living on the edge since you might get caught? And because it’s illicit? I mean, there must be some kind of gratification you derive from it.”

No. Actually, it didn’t. He stared at Allison, but had no answer off the top of his head. It really didn’t do much of anything for him. He didn’t enjoy the illicit nature of it, because he didn’t try hard to keep it a secret. Celia was decent in the sack, but he’d been with far more experienced women, and younger girls, who were all kinkier, and offered much hotter sex.  He never even thought about why he did it; but Celia asked him to, so he did.

She shook her head. “Never mind. It’s none of my business. Really though, she looked pissed off, maybe you should go now.”

He stood up, and his legs pushed the chair backwards on her deck. He held her gaze as he stood to his full height. “I don’t have to go anywhere; and for no other reason except that I feel like it. Celia doesn’t influence a single minute of my life. No one does. No one ever will. If I want to talk to you, I will.”

She nodded, and her gaze seemed cooler. “Fair enough. But your actions affect others. She was upset by your being out here. You should care even if it’s just a little. Human decency, Shane. It’s something you get by showing it to others.”

His gaze held hers. “You have a tough code of ethics.”

“And you don’t,” she countered, retaining his full attention. He didn’t turn and leave, but kept staring at her. Her eyes widened slightly until they became huge. Blue rings framed in dark lashes. She wore a subtle, neutral brown and beige eye shadow that just barely enhanced their color. He saw her long, delicate, freckled covered throat vibrate, as if she just swallowed, and he could almost feel her accelerated pulse. He was crowding her, and she didn’t like it; but she’d be damned before allowing him to see her discomfiture.

He finally smiled a crooked grin and said, “No, I don’t. So quit judging me.”

“If I did that, you’d stop coming over here. Did it ever occur to you, that my challenges to your status quo are what you want from me? Your ethics suck. You know it and you seem to like it. That’s what offends me so much. I’m not sure if it’s because you enjoy being so freaking ornery, or you feel the need to rebel against everything and everyone, or if it’s just to shock and outrage me.”

He blinked in surprise. She really never backed down from him. Even when he gave her his most lecherous stare and got right in her space. He could not intimidate her so he finally backed off. He could have sworn he saw her shoulders bend just a smidgeon as if in relief. And she might have been right. When was the last time anyone asked him to account for his actions? Jack used to, but even he gave up trying to make Shane into anything other than what Shane wanted to be. No one commented or questioned anything he did anymore. He had complete freedom. It was awesome. Who wouldn’t want to live his life? Even women gladly let him get away with the crap he did. He didn’t commit to them, or call, or even take them out on dates, and still, he had a full stable of tail that he could tap any moment he wanted it. Including Allison Gray’s neighbor. He tilted his head. “Challenge. I’m always up for any new challenge.”

He wondered if she’d catch his double meaning. She shook her head as a small smile crossed her big, pink lips. “Goodbye, Shane.”

He grinned and saluted as he turned to leave. “See ya, teacher.”

When he returned to Celia’s house, he noticed Allison still sat there on the deck. She was not staring at him, or watching him leave, but gazing out towards the river and ranch that filled the horizon. Something dark and contemplative occupied her mind. He was surprised when she so quickly dismissed him.  She was kind of an enigma.

He shook his head and entered Celia’s kitchen, deciding it was time to go home. He gunned his bike, despite Celia’s pleas and pathetic bribes to make him stay longer. He had an overwhelming urge to get out of there. Too much clinging and neediness. He wasn’t into that from anybody, for any reason. Even sitting for his nephews, who needed him this past week, almost made him bolt south on the highway and never look back.

Was teacher right? Had he… grown bored with his predictable patterns? Sure, he planned to take off as soon as Jack and Erin returned, although that didn’t excite him too much. It seemed… almost like drudgery. Like the same old-same old. Sure, another bike trip with more adventure and no destination, no plan, and no timeline. Great. Right?

Why then wasn’t the open road calling to him? Home wasn’t calling either. He felt ambivalent about the ranch. It represented everything he could never be. It was a physical representation of all the disappointment he doled out to his old man. And later, to Jack, who took the place in his heart of his old man. Jack was more than an older brother, no doubt, but not quite his father. It confused him.

The questions that Allison posed about his life, his attitude, and ethics, (or lack thereof) kind of stuck in his head. Why did he ever start Rydell Rides, if not to build it up and make it a profitable business? Why couldn’t he just keep doing it as he had been? Now that she pointed it out to him, he saw how ridiculous it was; it didn’t totally make sense.

He shook his head. Nothing about his discussions with Allison ever made sense.

****

Allison stayed on her deck, automatically lifting the wine glass to her lips as she stared out towards the backside of Rydell River Ranch. She observed the boiling rapids of the river and felt awkward. She wanted to run inside, but dared not. If Shane, or even Celia, knew that Shane’s presence in that house held any significance for her, which, Lord knew, it did not, she could never explain it. She really didn’t care if Shane Rydell was off screwing half the population of River’s End. It didn’t make any difference to her. Maybe the reason was because Shane was doing her neighbor. She was a witness to it and that really did make her uncomfortable. Not only with Jett,
but also
Celia, and for completely different reasons.

There was no denying Shane was an incredibly attractive man. Although huge and intimidating, he was tatted out and had long hair and rode a Harley. He just screamed
mistake
. And
bad boy
. What woman couldn’t find the scenario he presented kind of interesting? It was impossible not to wonder about him.

Why did he always talk to her? She couldn’t find a rational answer. She wasn’t his type, not even for a friend. She pretty severely told him, and in not-so-nice words what she thought of the things he did, as well as the type of man he was in her eyes. Yet, he still came over; was it to specifically hang out with her? It was odd. And strange and surprising. His big arms looked like they could burst the seams on the sleeves of his gray, cotton t-shirt. His hair was again coming out from the elastic at the nape of his neck.
Celia’s doing? Most likely
. It quite surprised Allison when she squirmed in annoyance while trying to picture just how Celia probably managed to do that.

She finished her wine and scurried inside, hoping she did so without being obvious. She heard Shane’s motorcycle roar before taking off. Strange how her heart dipped just slightly and a small crumb of disappointment crossed her mind.
Oh, he’s gone. Too bad.
Then she shook her head and rinsed her glass before placing it in the dishwasher. No. Never. Not in this lifetime.

She had enough disappointments in her life to last her for another few decades. She didn’t need to go looking for anymore.

Chapter Four

IT KEPT HAPPENING. SHE kept seeing Shane during the weekdays, always after he pleasured Celia, for that’s as far as she could tolerate his presence, considering what he was doing there. He always came out to join her at some point. She congratulated herself on not doing anything that might be considered out of the ordinary. She had always enjoyed a glass of wine on her deck since she started teaching. The weather didn’t matter to her. She even bundled up in the dead of winter and sometimes drank hot coffee or hot cider, but still relaxed for a half hour or so. The fresh air always revitalized her and helped her get some of the cobwebs out. Then she went inside to work on papers, or ideas to improve the teaching methods to match the new curriculum, which she was still diligently working on. Her review was over and now she was finishing her report. She expected to be done at the end of this year. That would demote her to just being an ordinary teacher, unless they offered her a permanent position doing something in administration. Sometimes she wished for that. Other times, not so much.

She came there only because she was so desperate to get out of Tacoma where she had lived all her life until then. Anything would have been a good enough reason for her to leave.
Anything.
It did not matter who made the offer. She replied to a dozen job postings located all over the state, and in Idaho and Oregon. She wasn’t picky. She just needed to get out. To move away from Tacoma and start completely over before she lost her freaking mind. That was just over three years ago now.

Now what? That thought sat heavily on her brain as it had been doing all winter. Now what could she do? What could she focus on that would keep her busy and absorb all her energy? What could provide her with purpose and meaning and challenge? But most of all, what could she do that would allow her to escape the mediocrity of her life? What else could she do to stay ahead of her memories before they again came crashing over her?

But Shane Rydell kept coming over to chat with her, until it started to become… not so dreaded. She might even have put on fresh lipstick a time or two, or tugged a brush through her hair before she appeared on her deck. She shrugged it off as her normal, everyday vanity. She put makeup on to go to work, or to the store where she’d invariably run into people she knew, so why not in her backyard when she might run into Celia or Shane?

It was usually sunny this time of year, but extremely cold. On occasion, the rare balmy afternoon suggested that spring might find them soon, but it hadn’t yet.

“Well, I’m a free man,” Shane said as he took her deck stairs two at a time before flopping into the chair opposite her. It was still slightly away from the table just as he left it the last time he was over.

“Free? From what? Cheating? Have you finally realized the error of your ways?”

He just laughed as he put his monstrous feet up on the railing to rest. He always toted his own beers and took a liberal swig before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. She turned her head when she felt herself staring at the beads of moisture on his upper lip. “Nope. Jack’s home. No more Mr. Mom for me.”

She couldn’t help her laugh. “Mr. Mom? You were lucky to make sure they were both still kicking every once in a while.”

“Not true. I cooked them dinner.” He paused as he tapped his fingers. Counting? Was he counting how many dinners he cooked? “Ten times. Yes. Ten dinners I cooked.”

“Well, considering they were gone for twenty-one nights, you managed to provide half of them. Impressive,” she said, unable to hide her smile. “So does that mean you’ll be gone tomorrow?”

He turned his head so his gaze was drifting over her yard. “Nah. Not tomorrow. Not sure when yet. I’m still working on a truck, and giving it a hella cool make-over. Might finish that first.” He shrugged, then sighed. “Then again, maybe I’ll head out tomorrow night. Never any way to know.”

“I can’t imagine. You just take off and leave? Anytime it strikes you?”

He smiled as if fondly thinking of an old friend. “Yup. Anytime I want, I’m gone. Outta here. Livin’ large.”

“But you don’t want to right now?”

He chewed on his lip in concentration before he shrugged and replied, “Guess not.”

“That’s because work can be very satisfying too. Work can become an adventure and the satisfaction of a job well done. And accomplishing something? I can’t imagine aimless trips down an endless road could mimic that kind of gratification. Do you ever get lonely?”

“No trouble finding company, teacher.” He wagged his eyebrows suggestively as he winked.

She shook her head. “No. I mean lonely for someone to give a damn about you? To ask how your day went? And if it didn’t go well, to care why not? A connection. Don’t you ever just yearn for a damn connection with someone?”

“Relationship, you mean?”

“Fine. If you must have a label. A relationship.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. “No. Teacher, I don’t want a relationship.”

She gazed out over her yard, speaking softly as she remembered. So many things came to her mind. “You don’t know how good some relationships can be. They can roll all your adventures into one. The right person can make everything in the world matter more, and make sense. The right person can make you feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. There is no more need for searching. No more untrodden roads that lead nowhere. There is only right here and now, living in the present, and that feels better than any freedom. It’s—”

“What ended yours?”

She stiffened as she turned her eyes to his. “What?”

His tone was deep and eyes probed hers. There was something almost sympathetic in his expression. “What happened to your relationship? Obviously, you had one. Can’t deny that. I’m figuring you were probably married and it didn’t work out.”

She stared at him, but didn’t answer, or move for a pronounced moment. He nodded and said softly, “See? Didn’t work out. Still hurts you. I don’t need that. I don’t need to set myself up for pain. Nope. Not for me.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Do you? Really, Allison, do you know what you’re talking about? If relationships are so good, why do you live alone and work alone? Why is there no one to warm your bed at night? At least, I can allow myself to enjoy that! You don’t seem to allow yourself even that small joy. So really, perhaps I actually already engage in more of that interaction you were speaking of than you do.”

“You don’t know anything,” she snapped, her tone tight as her eyes grew brighter in anger.

“I know, or I think I know, someone hurt you. Badly. Did he cheat?” She didn’t answer and he nodded. “Deny you were ever married.”

“I
was
married,” she finally relented. Her eyes were still dry as they narrowed at him.

“You’re not now though, are you?” He kept his tone deliberately soft and soothing. Gentle. As if trying to ease her into confessing her own shortcomings.

She held his gaze and finally nodded that he was right.

“Did he cheat?”

She let out a breath slowly. “Technically.”

“
Technically?
Is this the same woman who kept telling me, a near stranger, about the ethics of my ‘cheating’? How is your husband any different? How does that work?”

“We were hardly married by then. I didn’t blame him.”

“You didn’t blame him?” Shane’s incredulity was mirrored in his wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “Cheating is cheating, isn’t it, Allison? Isn’t that what you think?”

Something weird jolted through her body whenever his deep, strong voice said her name instead of calling her teacher. He mostly called her teacher, which she considered an insult at first, but now it had become almost a term of endearment. He seemed to strangely
like
her. “You can’t possibly understand what my marriage was like.”

“I can, actually. I can understand why you think people should not cheat. You’ve given me enough shit about it, but your husband cheated, and you don’t blame him?”

She knew the expression on her face was pinched, and her pursed lips and glaring eyes were almost painful. “No, I don’t. Now, you mentioned Jack and Erin were back. How was their honeymoon?”

“Not a very smooth segue.”

“I know.” She shrugged with a small smile. “I was hoping you’d kindly go with it.”

He eyed her. “Fine. We’ll go with it. They had a marvelous time. They’re all tanned and fit from swimming in the ocean and all that. Speaking of changing the topic, I was wondering something?”

“Really? What’s that?”

“Could you help Erin? Teach her to read, I mean? I was thinking about what you said, how the schools can’t help someone like her. Could you? Or is she totally hopeless? Forever illiterate?”

“Of course, she’s not hopeless. Who would suggest that?”

“She did,” he said, shaking his head. “She told me and Jack and Ian and everyone else. Well, maybe not so outright. She’s a master at misleading everyone. She listens patiently to everyone’s argument, and fully agrees and even tells us she’ll think about it. I’ve heard her discuss the same conversation with at least a half dozen people. She’s hella good at keeping us all at bay. I wondered if perhaps she just can’t learn. Is it possible for someone to be unable to learn to read?”

“She can learn something. More than she has to date. Yes, I could help her. I know, she gave me the same, ‘I’ll think about it’ speech three years ago when Charlie invited me to dinner.”

“Charlie invited you to dinner?”

“You never heard about that?”

“No.”

“Charlie invited me to dinner, and I came, thinking he was trying to fix me up with Jack. I also wanted to see and warn Jack. That was before he and Erin got together. There was an incident before that. Charlie asked her to come in with him for the annual Mother’s Day tea. He announced publicly that she couldn’t read his card before he read it for her. I’ve never seen anyone… oh, my God! It was heartbreaking. She turned so red. She was absolutely mortified. She is still that mortified, I believe, Shane. Anyway, Charlie asked me to come to dinner for a completely different reason; he wanted me to help Erin learn to read. It was quite touching for an eight-year-old little boy.”

“And she promised to consider it?”

“Yes, and I never heard from her again about it. I thought about mentioning it to her, but I didn’t know if it was my place.”

“I can’t help her. Jack can’t either. It makes him crazy. He can’t get her to budge on that. She seems so unsure, mild-mannered, sweet, and yet, it would be comparable to moving a mountain if we could get her to let you work with her.”

“It’s pretty sad, actually. I could help her a lot.”

“How do you know? That’s my point. You’ve never worked with her. What if you’re wrong? And she is right?”

“No, she doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. I know. She is highly intelligent and indicated many teachers tried many different reading programs with her, yet none of them worked. High functioning students who can’t learn to read or grasp rote information when most students do is a classic sign of dyslexia. She’s not stupid. Or slow. Or even remotely unteachable.”

“What? Seeing letters reversed, or jumbled up, or whatever?”

She snorted. “If that were the case, we’d hand every student a mirror, and voila! They’d read. No. That’s what’s so frustrating. It’s a complicated, all-encompassing language-processing disorder, with a broad spectrum of symptoms and degrees of severity. It is not her fault. Dyslexic readers need very specific reading instruction. Yet this state doesn’t have any standards in place to provide for it. They recognize it as a condition, but receive no federal or state money to enforce testing, or to provide the proper kind of instruction. She didn’t stand a chance of learning how to read. Even the nicest teacher, who was trying to help her, most likely didn’t have the proper tools available, so Erin falsely thought she could not learn.”

Shane leaned back as she spoke and crossed his arms over his chest. His muscles bunched up and rippled as he leaned forward. His expression was bright. “Why don’t you talk like this to her? She might just listen, teacher. You should hear yourself. You’re bright and alive and animated. You’re never like this except when you talk about this. The thing is: she doesn’t believe me or Jack or Ian or Kailynn or anyone else. That’s only because we can’t really guarantee she isn’t right. We can’t argue with her.
You can.
You could change her fucking life, Allison. Tell me, why don’t you?”

She tapped her fingers on the table, looking startled before she peered across at him. “What do you expect me to do? Storm in there and demand she listen to me? Give me a chance to teach her?”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “That’s exactly what you should do. She’s missed another three years and still has no more confidence in herself and no more skills than when she first got here. It
kills
my brother. You can’t even imagine how helpless he feels. But worse, how she feels. None of us want that for her. So, yeah, you have the precious knowledge, you can help her.”