Friday, August 8th

A D D I E

Zac and I sat on the back deck where we had brunch last weekend. Instead of using the table, we were settled in the two single outdoor armchairs that were part of a lounge suite. It was woven wicker, black with charcoal colored cushions. The sun was beginning to set, and he'd just sat down after offering me a second beer. The stuff was gross, so I'd declined and stuck to just the one. But he surprised me when he sat down and slid a tall glass of wine across the glass coffee tabletop.

"It's meant to be nice," he shrugged, leaning back. "I don't drink the stuff. You don't have to either. Just thought it'd be rude to come back with a beer for me and nothing for you."

"I wouldn't have been offended," I said but gripped the stem of the glass and lifted it. Zac watched me inhale the aroma of the sparkling white.

"You know a lot about wine?"

"Nothing," I confessed with a small laugh and sipped it, smacking my lips afterward. "It's nice though. Thanks."

He gave one nod, smiling as he lifted his bottle. "Not a problem."

I settled into the chair and watched the cloudless horizon. The sun was setting on the other side of the house, but the sky was illuminated with soft orange and purple. The tree leaves rustled around us and there were two black border collies snoozing in their kennels.

Farm dogs I would have thought except that there were no sheep and I didn't think horses needed to be rounded up. Perhaps they were just good old-fashioned furry companions. Before I could ask, we heard the soft sound of approaching footsteps and when I peered at the French doors, an older man appeared in a robe and slippers.

"Zac," he grinned, it was full and deepened the lines in his aged face. "And who's this?"

"This is Addie," Zac introduced me and sat up a little straighter. His thin white shirt stretched tight across his broad chest. "She was here last weekend—"

"Oh, Raine's friend," he interrupted Zac and sat down on the edge of the coffee table. "I'm Keith. Yeah, apologies for not being able to attend brunch. I wasn't feeling right. I hope the kids here were good company."

I could feel Zac watching me, perhaps waiting for me to tell this kind old man that he was a bit of a dick. Instead I smiled. "It was a great morning. I met Noah and then this afternoon, I met Lavender."

"She got out again," Zac said, resting his beer on top of his knee. "Found her down on the river trail with Addie here. I think she sprung the little foal to be honest."

"Is that right," Keith stared at me with playful suspicion. "That reminds me of this ol' mare we had when I was a teenager. She'd get out all the damn time, quite a jumper she was. So anyway, we were heading off down the river for a swim one afternoon, the fellas and I, and we thought we better do our extra best to keep her in while we were gone."

Zac wore a subtle hint of amusement in his grin. He winked and made a dramatic show of settling into his seat and stretching his legs out in front of him, as if to tell me that these stories weren't the short and sweet sort.

Even though it did go on for quite some time, it was entertaining. Keith had such an animated way of telling a story. His voice was old and hoarse but strong and captivating. It was impossible not to hang onto every word with anticipation.

"So then we find the mare down at the swimming hole we'd been at earlier that morning and there she is, in the water having the time of her life, meanwhile we spent the whole darn day searching high and low for her after we'd been told she was missing. Rascal she was."

I couldn't help but feel that it was somewhat relevant and similar to how Zac and I had stumbled upon each other this afternoon and I wondered if he thought the same thing, because when I looked at him, he was watching me first. He was quick to tear his gaze from me and let it settle on the label of his bottle, his fingers picking at the sticky plastic.

"Well," Keith said, scratching his thin wiry grey hair. His eyes moved fast between Zac and I and then he stood, slow and cautious. "I'll leave y'all to it. Don't forget to eat dinner, Zac. Blair left it in the oven."

Zac gave a quick nod. "Yes sir."

"He's great," I said once we were alone again.

Zac tilted his head. "You think? Couldn't tell."

"What?"

"The first time I heard that story I was in fits. You barely cracked a smile."

I'd been laughing, hadn't I?

"You don't smile a lot, huh? Not real ones."

"Ugh don't be one of those men," I slipped the strap of my dress back up into place when it fell off my shoulder.

"One of what men?"

I adopted a deeper voice. "Smile sweetheart. You need to smile more."

He chuckled and sat forward, putting his bottle on the table. "I'm not gonna tell you what to do. I was just making an observation."

Not bothering to remind him that I lost my sister two weeks ago, I shrugged and shot him a forced smile.

"Oh no no," he shook his head and leaned back again, putting his hands behind his head. "I've seen that smile once or twice. I mean a real one."

"I'd have to feel real happiness for that."

His smile dropped but his expression wasn't pitiful. It wasn't that familiar grim tight-lipped look that I'd seen countless times since Margo left me. And for some reason, I felt inexplicably grateful for that.

The intensity behind his stare was beginning to turn my stomach over in knots. I swallowed and looked out at the back garden. The sun had set, and the stars littered the midnight blue sky. It was beautiful, endless and enchanting, as if the clues to the vast expanse of our world were at arm's reach. It felt like we were in the thick of the universe out here. It felt like Margo was right there, watching over me.

"So," I said. "How did you meet Keith?"

Zac, who still had his arms behind his head and his biceps flexed, narrowed his thoughtful gaze. "Must have been. . . at birth. Yeah, he was there from what I've heard. Holding mom's hand until I made an appearance and then he cut the cord."

"Wait— you're his son?"

He nodded.

"So, Raine is your sister?"

He nodded again.

"Oh! I didn't even realise."

"You seem surprised."

"No! I just— well it's—"

"Because they're black and I'm not?" Zac laughed and it was deep, invasive and enticing. "Yeah Raine took after our dad and I'm more of mom who died when I was fifteen."

"I'm sorry about your mom," I said. "I lost mine too. And dad. I was thirteen."

"Doesn't seem fair," his tone was softer, and the warm night breeze ruffled his hair. "You've been through a hell of a lot."

"This conversation keeps getting dark," I stood up and walked to the edge of the deck. My light laugh was meant to be dismissive, but I knew it was strained. "I should get going, I suppose. You don't have to drive. I'll call a cab."

I heard the wicker of his seat creak as he stood up and wandered towards me. "We have a ton of rooms if you want to crash in one for the night."

"I don't want to impose."

"You wouldn't be. But it's no sweat. I can drive you into town."

"We probably should have considered the fact that you've been drinking."

"We can wait an hour. It'll be safe. I've only had two."

"Yeah we should wait the hour."

"Or," he said, and I looked up and over my should to find him close, staring down. "You can crash in one of the spare bedrooms."

"Is there a lock on the door?"

His gaze widened and he stepped back, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I was. . . kidding," I pushed my hands through my hair and sighed. "It was an attempt at a joke. That was stupid. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's good to be cautious. And there is a lock on the door."

I smiled and watched as he collected his bottles and dropped them into a bin at the bottom of the deck steps. He was so tall and defined. He looked right at home here on this beautiful farm.

The urge to call Margo and tell her about him was sudden and unexpected, especially because there was nothing to tell. It was just something that we would have giggled about. Well, she would have giggled and told me to snatch him up. I would have grumbled and told her that there was no point. Men are disappointing, even if they do seem perfect.

"So, is Raine the big sister?"

"Yep. She's thirty-five. I'm thirty."

"She's thirty-five? Wow, she looks incredible."

"It's those genes," he chuckled and folded his arms. "She's a good person. She loves that little girl, Willa. I'm glad that she found Milo," his brows pulled, and he looked at me. "You plan stuff, right? Events. What about weddings?"

"Yeah. I plan weddings."

"Should talk to Raine. I'm sure that she said something about needing to contact a planner soon but not knowing where to start."

I twisted my hair around my fist and worried on my lip. "I don't think that's the best idea. I have no idea how long I'll be in the area and I don't want to leave her stranded if I head off before her wedding. Plus, I just don't think I could without. . . Margo. She made all of the final calls. And we have a whole team of staff that help. It wouldn't work."

He stood on the other side of the steps and rested his arm above his head on the wooden beam. "You don't have to explain, Addie. It was just an idea."

"Do you have to be so understanding?" I snapped. "You were kind of rude when we met and now, you're. . . I don't know. . . so damn polite. It's pity, right? Well, don't. I don't need it."

He pursed his lips and cast his gaze down. "Can I be honest about something?"

"Sure."

"I was quick to pass judgment," he met my eyes with his and even though it was dark and all the light that we had came from garden solar lights and the stars, I could see his sincerity as clear as ever. "I saw this stunning woman in a beautiful dress and heard that she was from Beverly Hills and I made assumptions about the sort of woman that you are."

Now I felt a little bad for snapping. "Well, even if I was some Beverly Hills princess, that wouldn't give you the right to be an asshole."

He ducked his head with a small smile. "That's true. You know, we had a house guest a while ago. She was from. . . I don't know, LA or something," he stared out at the night with a humourless laugh. "She complained about everything. The smell. The animals. The early morning starts and the accents."

"The accents?"

"If she could find something to complain about, she would."

"Why was she here?"

"She's Milo's niece or something. He didn't have room to put her up, so we offered. A damn long week that was."

"You just assumed that I would be the same?" I raised a challenging brow when he looked at me. "We're not all like that."

"Yeah," he smiled. "That'll teach me for making assumptions."

"It better. I didn't immediately assume that you've slept with a cousin."

He let out another loud laugh. "Definitely haven't done that."

"I guess I'll take up that offer if it's still on the table?" He seemed confused. "For the room. Tonight. I'm tired so I might get some sleep. It's been a weird week. I feel like such a floater."

"I bet. Yeah," he pointed at the French doors. "I'll show you where it is."

We went inside where most of the lights were off apart from the kitchen one. The second-hand beams of fluorescence came through into the dining area where there was another long twelve-seater table. This one was a gorgeous red, brown wood with a laminate finish. The chairs were covered in a gorgeous vintage cream patterned fabric with high backs. It was quiet as we crept through into the main passage where a staircase spiraled upstairs. I followed Zac, admiring his broad back and shoulders. There wasn't much else to look at while it was so dark.

When we hit the top floor, we walked for another small stretch until he stopped, causing me to almost collide into the back of him, and he opened a white door with a satin black handle. He reached around the wall and switched the light on. As far as spare bedrooms went, this one was simple but beautiful. There was a double bed covered in throw pillows, a side table on each side, a dresser and a round mirror on the wall. There were more decorative details, a vase of flowers, a rug and I almost missed the window seat which had a small stack of books on the sill.

"Your spare bedrooms come with a complimentary pile of books?" I looked up at Zac, we were both squeezed in between the door frame and we were close. "That's not a complaint. Good luck getting me to leave this room."

He chuckled and rested his hand on the door handle. "Na those are Willa's. She got them out at the library after you were here on Sunday and spent about four hours up here reading on Thursday."

I swallowed, touched at the fact that she'd actually decided to take my suggestions on board. "Is this the room that she sleeps in when she stays over?"

"Yeah but we have a few spare bedrooms. I just happen to think this one has the best view of the landscape."

I nodded and sucked in my bottom lip, gnawing at it. He was so close that I could smell his fresh fragrance and a note of sweat. It wasn't bad though. Not at all.

"Can I offer you something to wear to bed?" His tone was low and quiet. "A t-shirt?"

"That would be great actually," I said, steadying my uneven breath.

His eyes dropped to my shoulder where the strap of my dress had fallen again. I felt his fingertips on my skin as he lifted it and slid it back into place. "No problem," he murmured, his lips barely parting to let the words out. "Wouldn't want to wrinkle this beautiful dress."

The tension felt so tight that I could have sworn it had nothing left to give. Something was going to snap. Something was going to happen. It had to because we could not continue to stare at each other like this without it resulting in a shift in balance.

And then I heard Margo. I heard her as if she was standing right beside me. What about me?

"I'm wiped," I stepped into the room and didn't look back at him. "Don't worry about the shirt. I'll sleep in this."

There was no response for a while. I wondered if he'd left. But then I heard his feet on the carpet. "I'll be right back with a shirt."

I turned around to object, but he was gone. It wasn't long before he returned and tossed the shirt onto the bed, bidding me a simple goodnight before he closed the door. After I'd slipped into the shirt and climbed into bed, I laid in the dark, covers up even though it was sweltering, and I trembled. Margo would never have said something like that. What about me? That wasn't her. Not at all. That was me and I knew it but that didn't stop the tears that racked through me until I fell asleep, not waking until I felt the weight of a person on top of me, the end of my screams bringing me out of another nightmare.

"Addie?!"

I couldn't see, it was dark, and I was shaking so hard against the restraint of a man who held my wrists.

"Addie?! You're alright. Come on, Addie. You're safe. It's Zac. I'm here. You're safe. I think you had a nightmare but it's alright."