Worth the Risk (13 page)

The next day Hannah found the government building easily. With a clear head and new resolve, she parked and circled through the rotating glass.

After a brief exchange at reception, she was told to wait.

Hannah sat in a blue- and cream-upholstered seat and looked out the window at the city buildings. She hated that she wondered if Stephen’s office was nearby. Hated that she still thought of him at all. But she did. And as she’d replayed that day, repeatedly recalled the look in his eyes, she knew it wasn’t all his fault. She’d seen herself, after all, and it wasn’t pretty.

“Ms. Walker, Mr. Goodwin will see you now.”

Armed with letters from doctors praising her work and pictures of the children she helped, she followed the woman down a long, windowless hallway.

Mr. Goodwin didn’t rise from his desk when she entered. In fact, he barely looked up from his computer, only grunting an acknowledgment when his secretary announced her presence.

She forced herself to smile at the top of his balding head. “I’m here to talk to you about my farm on Highway Thirty-two.”

Heart pounding, Hannah made her case. Her nerves ran wild and so did all her carefully planned words. She went out of order, spoke too fast. But she laid out the pictures she’d brought. Children standing for the first time, walking when they’d been told they never would. The councilman gave them no more than a careless glance.

“While I sympathize, Ms. Walker, I’m afraid the land just isn’t yours.”

“But I have this letter from the original owner.” She pulled it out.

“That’s right. You have a letter. A letter is not a will. There was no passage of ownership. No living relatives of the deceased. No legally certified document.”

“Then why was I told to come down here? Why send me the letter saying I could state my case?”

He gave her a long look. “That was before we had all salient information. I apologize for your inconvenience.” Without so much as a shrug, he reached across his desk and pushed a button. “Eileen, see Ms. Walker out, please.”

Five minutes later, she left the building the same way she’d come in, but where she’d been full of hope a short time ago, she was now completely deflated. Since the first day she’d gotten the letter, she hadn’t believed it. Standing in the safety of the barn, surrounded by horses and familiar scents, the possibility hadn’t seemed real to her.

Surrounded by brick and glass and the power of politicians, it was much easier. They could take it. They
were
taking it.

Tears gathered and fell as she drove ten minutes to an outdoor shopping mall. She didn’t much feel like meeting Mia for lunch, but it was too late to cancel now. Plus, if she did, Mia would be doubly concerned. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes.

Think it through, be positive. She reached back to years of counseling.

She could get a job as a regular physical therapist, get an apartment, or, God forbid, live with her brothers—they’d never let her be homeless. If she could afford to board her horses somewhere else, if she worked awhile and saved up…then maybe. But just boarding and caring for Winnie would be costly.

She blinked back a new round of tears thinking of the young faces she would have to tell, the disappointment she’d dole out.

Arriving, she parked, made sure she didn’t look weepy, and got out. It was a nice area complete with coffee shops and a café, small tables and cherry trees dotting the brick walkway. She spotted Mia midway down, under the shade of tiny pink blossoms. Before she reached the small iron table, two women stopped beside it.

As she got closer, she smiled, trying to hide her surprise. “Hi, Abby. Hi, Lizzy.”

“You know each other?” Mia asked.

“The party I went to,” she answered, feeling the burn in her cheeks. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. Except she’d been rejected by the same man twice in less than two weeks. But maybe they didn’t know.

“Stephen’s my brother,” Lizzy said, to Mia’s further confusion.

“And my brother-in-law.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.” Mia looked at Hannah. “Lizzy and I belong to several of the same psychiatric organizations.”

“Oh, well, why don’t you join us?” Hannah invited.

“Yes. Sit.” Mia moved her bag from the fourth seat. They dropped purses and scooted chairs around, then gave the young server their orders.

“So, how do you two know each other?” Abby asked, also making connections.

Hannah froze and before she had to say she was a patient, Mia answered. “I’ve known Hannah for years. I…dated her brother. Nick.”

Hannah caught the flash of sadness even though Mia covered it well.

“Huh,” Lizzy said. “Small world.”

Both women clearly got the past tense on
dated
and dropped it there.

“Hannah was so sweet to have Gracie out to ride horses.” Abby smiled across the table. “You know, she hasn’t stopped talking about it since.”

“Of course. I can always find some time. She’s such a sweetie, but I have to tell you, I might not be there much longer.” The reality of the words stung.

There was obvious surprise and she explained about the land and the letter, giving a recap of her recent meeting.

“That’s a shame. What do they want to do with it?” Abby thanked the server and lifted her glass.

“I don’t know. Sell it, I assume.”

Mia glanced up, stirring in her sweetener. “Can you work with the kids somewhere else?”

“I’m looking into it.”

“Well, I was going to ask you if you had a spot for lessons for Gracie. Annie wants to come too, and you’d definitely let me pay you.”

“That’s an idea,” Lizzy said. “Maybe you could offset the costs of a new place by giving lessons.”

“Maybe, but no amount of lessons would add up to what I’d need to buy the land outright.”

“You could fight it,” Mia offered.

She could try. But lawyers cost money and what the man said made sense. It hadn’t been left to her, not legally. The truth hurt.

The server appeared with their lunch and they paused to comment on one another’s orders. Lizzy sipped her tea, a thoughtful expression on her pretty face. “What if you could somehow persuade the city
not
to take it?”

“And just let me use it for free? I don’t know. I showed him letters, pictures. He barely looked.”

“Maybe he’s not the one who needs to see,” Lizzy said.

“You mean take it to someone else?”

“No, I mean, what if everyone saw? Public opinion can be a powerful motivator for politicians. I mean, what is the government doing? Just sitting around waiting for people to die so that they can snatch up property?”

Abby paused with her fork in the air. “What if you did something like, I don’t know…an awareness day or something?”

“Yes!” Mia pointed at Abby. “Make it big. Show off the horses and your patients, open it up to the public for the day. It’s not a piece of property just sitting there. It’s vital, providing a service to this area.”

A bit of hope niggled in.

“Everything’s political, right?” Lizzy said, picking up steam. “They definitely don’t want to look bad.”

“That’s true,” Abby added. “What if we got the media out there, really got the city to rally? People love kid causes. I actually know a local reporter, a friend from college.”

Hannah didn’t miss the
we.
That alone made her feel like smiling.

Lizzy cocked her head. “You know who we should be asking about this stuff? Stephen. He knows all there is to know about property laws and whatever.” She gestured with her hand.

The air backed up in her lungs at his name.

“And maybe Matt could help,” Abby added. “He knows real estate, but Lizzy’s right, Stephen is the one who knows the value of having undeveloped land. I’m sure he’d talk to some people for you.”

She worked to swallow the bite already in her mouth. Yeah. He’d offered and she’d said no. Stephen with his carved face and heart-stopping brown eyes. She’d felt something. Thought he did too. She pushed chicken salad around her plate. “How is he?”

“Stephen? Oh, he’s good, I guess. I haven’t seen him much.” Lizzy grinned, and stabbed a piece of fruit. “I thought you would have seen him. He seemed pretty hot to take you home Sunday.”

“No. I haven’t seen him since then.”

Mia’s eyes caught hers, full of sympathy. They’d already spoken about Stephen seeing her scars and everything that happened after. As usual, Mia had tried to put a positive spin on it. Look at it as personal growth instead of a stumble back. She’d also been the one to point out that Hannah didn’t actually know what Stephen had been thinking when she’d made him leave.

Lizzy let out an exasperated huff. “What’s my idiot brother done now?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head and pretended to drink.

“You know men don’t always say what they mean. Sometimes even say the opposite in addition to acting really stupid. Especially my idiot brothers. No offense, Abby.”

“None taken,” Abby said with a smile.

“It’s nothing, really. I just wondered how he was, that’s all.” After she’d told him her gory tale and then screamed at him to get out. Mia hadn’t held back on pointing that out too.

They finished eating, tossed around more ideas about building public support. Twenty minutes passed and the women had practically the entire thing planned. It just might work, and she wasn’t in it alone. She’d wanted to handle it herself but this felt different. Felt like friends helping friends, not family obligated to deal with her issues.

Lizzy walked with her since they were parked near each other. “That was fun. It’s good for my brain to talk to people over five.”

Hannah smiled and unlocked her doors, but instead of continuing to her own car, Lizzy paused.

“I probably shouldn’t say anything, though my brothers all expect me to butt in anyway, so I might as well. Stephen’s been…” She stared across the parking lot like she was debating what to say. “He’s been through a lot. He’s had some really tough years, but I’ve seen a change in him in the last few weeks.” She brought her brown eyes back to Hannah’s. “Since you. So if you care about him at all, give him a chance.”

If she
cared
about him? She was way past caring. But she nodded, mumbled, “Okay,” and got in her car. And give him a chance to what? She’d been broken by a man physically. Stephen could crush her heart into a million pieces.

Stephen raised his foot, then lowered it and took a step back. Indecisive was not his middle name. Not a word even remotely associated with him. But in this moment, standing at the bottom of the steps leading to Hannah’s front door, that’s all he was.

The last time he’d been here she hadn’t wanted him anywhere near her and for good reason. He held little hope she’d want him here now. But he couldn’t stay away.

He’d made it up the first two steps when the door opened. The light from inside framed Hannah against the dark night like a halo. She wore pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved T-shirt—thin, no bra. His mouth went dry and he wet his lips, tried to swallow. “Hey.”

She didn’t reply to his brilliant greeting.

He jerked his hands from his pockets, ran them through his hair, and stuck them back. “I wanted to talk to you.
I need
to talk to you.” He knew she thought it was the scars, and that whole,
it’s not you, it’s me
thing was rarely successful. But that’s all he had because it was him. He wouldn’t leave until he’d convinced her of that.

They stared at each other, she with narrowed eyes as if trying to read his intentions, and he with the hot feeling he always got when he looked at her. She seemed different. Tired, or maybe just resigned to the fact that he was an ass. But she opened the door wider and stepped back into the space.

His heart pounded as he climbed the remaining step and closed the door. When he turned, she was at the sink, her back to him.

Her hair was piled on her head in a messy bun. He missed touching it. Smelling it. Missed seeing her smile and kissing her lips. He missed her. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.” She continued drying a bowl and placed it upside on a towel.

“You were in the hospital.”

Her body stilled. “Who told you that?”

“Nick.”

She sighed and he felt her unease from across the quiet room, saw her shoulders drop. She hadn’t wanted him to know. She finished her task, set a dried glass on the counter, and unplugged the sink to drain. When she turned around he was hit hard, as always. So beautiful, delicate almost, but her eyes met his, bold and brave. “I had an anxiety attack. It passed and now I’m fine.”

So bad she had to go to the hospital? And fine? The shadows under her eyes said something different. “I don’t know what to say. No.” He blew out a shaky breath and scrubbed both hands over his face. “That’s not true. I know a lot of things to say and none of them are right. None of them are enough.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Yes. I do. I just…” He shook his head, searching for the right words. When he looked up, saw the hurt in her eyes even through the layers she’d tried to pull over it, he gave up on words. He crossed the room, took her face in his hands because he couldn’t be in the same room with her and not touch her.

He brushed his thumbs over the bruises under her eyes. Their eyes held, faces just inches apart. “You look tired.”

“I haven’t been sleeping well.” Her hands came up to circle his wrists and she stared right into him. “I was worried about you.”

And just like that she knocked him on his ass again. He dropped his forehead to hers and took a long, steadying breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry. When I heard everything that had happened to you, I…” He straightened but didn’t meet her gaze. “I went crazy.”

“Ha.” She gave a derisive laugh. “I think it’s obvious I’m the one who’s crazy.”

“No you’re not.” He brought his eyes back to hers and his fingers tightened in her hair. “You’re the bravest, strongest, most amazing person I’ve ever known and…I didn’t handle it well. I don’t…handle things well. Not for the past few years anyway. I— Shit, this is hard.” But he would do it.

“Come sit.” He took her by the hand, led her to the couch, and tugged until she was in his lap. Just having her in his arms loosened the tightness in his chest and he took his first full breath in days.

He pulled her back against him and cleared his throat, gathering himself to say what he rarely said. “I was engaged a few years ago. Five. She was killed. Murdered.” He adjusted Hannah in his lap before going on.

“It was two weeks before the wedding and I wasn’t there. She went out for a drink with friends and some guys followed her home, forced her inside.” He told her all of it, poured it out like a dam had burst.

She didn’t flinch, didn’t gasp or make him pull back from a single detail. He was both awed and comforted by her strength, by Hannah, who was nothing but good, yet strong enough to face evil and live through it. Better than he had.

But he didn’t tell her that, how not okay he was. Couldn’t tell her that her nightmares were probably pretty close to his fantasies. That the only way he could cope with the agony of that event was to imagine himself doing ten times worse to the perpetrators. His hand fisted on the arm of the couch so tightly it shook.

Hannah covered it with her own, immediately easing him.

He didn’t deserve her. He should leave this house right now and never look back. Never touch her again. But instead he wrapped his arms around her even tighter. “I’m sorry, baby. I should have stayed. I should have made it better instead of worse. It’s not that I didn’t want to hear it, that I wanted you to stop. I wanted
it
to stop. I wanted what had happened to you to stop and—”

“It’s okay.”

No, but it was getting there. And the knot that was his entire body began to loosen. The weight that had crushed him for days lessened.

“Hannah, it wasn’t about the scars. It was never about that.” He held her when she would have pulled away. “Look at me.” She obeyed, but he wasn’t sure she was seeing him, from the way her eyes swam with tears. “Baby. You’re breaking my heart.” He kissed her cheek as one escaped. “I was shocked, yes. More that someone had hurt you.”

When she remained quiet, he brushed his lips across her temple, her cheek, and was well on his way to her lips, when she pulled back.

“I can’t.” She looked down at her hands folded tightly in her lap. “I can barely be touched.”

“I disagree.” He tipped her head back with a finger under her chin, pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’ve touched you.” He nibbled at the bottom, then the top and the corners, took his time persuading and convincing. “I love your mouth. Could get lost in it for days. Your lips, the taste of you on my tongue.”

She parted her lips, maybe for a breath, maybe to say something, but he took the opening she’d given. Gave her no chance to pull away from him because he needed to kiss her more than he needed his next breath. Deep and slow, he kissed her for everything she’d been through. Every way she’d been hurt and sad and afraid. “You’re so damn beau—”

“Don’t.” Her fingers flew to his lips. “Just…don’t.”

“Hannah.” He stared into her eyes and it killed him that she didn’t see it.

She leaned against his chest and he touched his lips to the top of her head. He’d hold her all night if she’d let him, just like this. Like he should have done days ago. But he hadn’t held her, he’d left. Made it worse?

“Was it my fault?” he asked softly. “The anxiety attack?”

“No. I might have been thinking about it more but…I have dreams. Nightmares.”

God. Knowing his own, he couldn’t imagine the terror she must face in her sleep. “Would it help if I stayed?”

“I don’t know.”

She’d barely gotten the words out when he stood with her in his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“Finding out.”

He walked the short distance to her bedroom, laid her on the bed, and joined her so they were facing each other.

“What are you going to do?”

“Lie beside you. Recite boring numbers until you fall asleep.” Her lips curved at that. “And,” he added seriously, “if you have a nightmare, I’ll be right here.” He pulled up the quilt and got comfortable. “One potato, two potato, three potato, four…”

She made an obnoxious snoring noise that got her a swat on the bottom. And got him a smile. “You’re right. That is boring. Is that how you made all your money?”

“Yep. That and musical chairs.” She smiled again. It always took his breath away, but when she smiled because of him? Nothing was better.

They were quiet for several minutes, eyes open, close enough for their breath to mingle. “You have a lot of night-lights.”

“I know.” She glanced around her room. “Can you sleep? Want me to unplug some?”

He noticed she said some, not all. Even with him here, she didn’t want to be completely in the dark. “No.” He swept her hair back. “I like seeing your face.”

She laid her cool, soft hand against his neck. “I like seeing yours too. You really are gorgeous. Though I’m sure you know that.” She traced a finger over his brow, his jawline, down his nose.

He snapped at the finger circling his lips and made her squeal. “On second thought, you look like a duck.”

“Very funny. Maybe I’ll recite some baseball stats.” He tugged until she snuggled down with her head on his chest. She smelled like freshly washed hair and body wash, scented and girlie. Her small hand covered his thundering heart. His bigger one skimmed down her back, dipping at her waist, over her hip and up again. Even that simple touch had him on fire.

He’d need those stats before the night was over.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.” She spoke into the quiet and his hand stilled. “I should have. That wasn’t fair, but I…”

“If you thought I wouldn’t want you, you’re wrong.” It killed him that she’d thought that. That she’d been thinking it the whole time. The issue was more the truth she didn’t know about him. The stain and ugliness of his soul.

“Hannah, I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you. I still want you.” And if he pulled her a little closer, she’d feel exactly how much. Before he could force himself to create some space between them, she lifted her face and pressed her lips to his. It was a soft meeting, a kiss so profound it brought tears to his eyes. Because she mattered. Everything about her, everything about being near her mattered, when he hadn’t wanted anything to matter for so long. Wasn’t entirely sure he did now. Because he wasn’t good for her and she was undoubtedly smart enough to know that.

So he meant to keep it there, just a kiss, until she arched into his chest. His sweet, tentative Hannah. She deepened the kiss, rubbed her body against his. He shifted so that his leg eased between hers and the lines he’d drawn for himself went gray and fuzzy.

With the blood pulsing in his ears, his hand swept under her shirt. She wound her tongue around his, tugged at his hair until he groaned. And when he covered her breast with his hand, molded his fingers around it, the air left his lungs. His senses tumbled into overload with her nipple grazing his palm and her skin sliding under his lips.

“Let me touch you.” He whispered it against her lips. “I need to touch you.” Had to. Which made no sense because he was already touching her, but now that he’d started, it wasn’t nearly enough.

He rolled and braced himself above her, slid her shirt up until those perfect breasts were exposed. Until he could make out her shape and the dark pebbled peaks standing up for his attention. In the glow of four night-lights he saw Hannah’s eyes wide on his. So innocent she made him feel innocent too, like he could be someone else when he was with her.

He dipped his head and circled one breast with the tip of his tongue, spiraling inward while his fingers caressed the other. So damn perfect. And he would show her in a million ways she was beautiful.

Her breath came faster and she arched into his mouth. He smoothed a hand down between her legs and cupped her through her pajamas.

Her breath caught. “Stephen.”

“Trust me.” He brought his mouth back to hers, kissed her deeply, and circled the heel of his hand exactly where he knew she needed it most. Coaxing, seducing. When she was moaning into his mouth he stopped. Left her mouth to skim his lips between her breasts, down her stomach. Ran his tongue over skin so soft it could have been silk, never once seeing her scars.

Hyperaware, every sense was amplified. Her rapid breathing in the quiet room. His heart drumming. Unsure what else he could give her, but he could give her this. He could show her she was wanted, desired. That she hadn’t been broken in every way. He pulled the pajama pants down her legs, taking the panties with them and tossing them to the floor.

His heart nearly stopped at the sight before him. Hannah, naked but for a thin T-shirt shoved up above her rising and falling breasts. Gently, he kissed the inside of her thighs, brushed his face over the skin there. When his lips brushed over her center, her hands clenched at her sides. She gasped, jerked away from the onslaught of sensations. “Easy, baby.”

He persuaded with his lips and tongue, Hannah’s scent wrapping around him. She was sweet, so sweet, and he brought her to the crest in seconds. Her breath quickened and his head buzzed with the spicy taste of her arousal. His erection strained so painfully against his zipper, he might not live through it.

On a sharp inhale, she arched her head back, mouth open in a silent cry. So damn easy, and in the very best way.

She lay limp and trusting as he pulled her panties up, leaving the pants on the floor. He took his time trailing kisses up her body before settling in next to her.

There was a squeeze in his chest at the way her soft body fit against him, the way she curled her arm over his chest. Neither spoke. Nothing needed to be said. He pulled the worn quilt up and over them, pressed his lips to her head. “No dreams tonight.”