Zach agreed with a sheepish smile. “I reckon so.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “Are we okay now, Mandy?”
She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Yes, I think we are.”
“Wow!” Luke cried as he and Bethany rode back into the arena. “That was so much fun! I can’t believe what a blast it was.”
Mandy gazed fondly at her brother, trying to recall the last time she’d seen him so happy. Hair ruffled by the wind, he looked like a normal teenager, young, vigorous, and in love with life.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Bethany told him. “I’d love it if you’d come out often, Luke. No charge. You can ride for free.”
“Can I, Mandy?” Luke asked.
Taken off guard, Mandy had to consider before answering. “I see no reason why you can’t come out to ride again, Luke.” She shifted her gaze to Bethany. “But we’ll want to pay the usual fee. It wouldn’t be right otherwise.”
Bethany flapped a hand. “Now that I have kids, I don’t hold as many events, and as a result, I don’t ride as much as I should. Ryan is constantly offering to watch the children, but—” She broke off and shrugged. “It’s just not as much fun to go riding alone. Luke would be doing me a favor. I need the exercise, and so do my horses.”
Mandy glanced at her brother’s beaming countenance and hated to protest any further. “I have my work, Luke. Coming here a few times a week would put me way behind. It’s a long drive out this way.”
“Couldn’t you work out here on your laptop?” Luke suggested.
“I need the Internet to communicate with the—”
Bethany interrupted with, “We have high-speed wireless, Mandy. You could log in and use the stable office to work while Luke and I are riding. Would that help?”
Mandy could scarcely believe Bethany Kendrick’s generosity. “Yes, that’d be ... well, fabulous. But only if you’re sure that—”
“I’m positive.” Bethany maneuvered Margarita close to Wink and leaned sideways to take Luke’s hand. “It’s been a pleasure, Luke. I hope we can do it again really soon.”
“Me, too. It was incredible.”
Sly appeared just then. He commandeered Wink’s reins. Bethany smiled at Mandy and Zach. “I’ve got to go dismount. If you don’t mind waiting, I’d love to have you come over to the house. Ryan would enjoy a visit, I know. He and Zach are good buds.”
Zach looked questioningly at Mandy. She laughed and said, “I’m in no rush. For once, I’m actually caught up with my office work.”
“It’s settled, then,” Bethany said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Those are two of the nicest people I think I’ve ever met,” Mandy commented an hour later as they began the long drive home. “Talking with Ryan, you’d never guess that he’s wealthy. He acts like an ordinary guy.”
Zach grinned at Mandy in the rearview mirror. “All the Kendricks are like that. Maybe it comes from not always having been rich. They’re pretty down-to-earth.”
“Their children are darling and so well behaved.”
“I really liked Little Sly,” Luke observed. “He’s not quite eight, but he sounds a lot older.”
Mandy had fallen in love with Chastity, who would celebrate her fifth birthday in only a few days. She was a beautiful little girl with a wealth of sable curls and her mother’s vivacious personality.
“I can’t wait to come out again,” Luke said. “It was so much fun, riding along the lakeshore! Bethany let the horses run. Except for in a car, I’ve never gone that fast. I loved feeling the wind in my face. The smells out there were indescribable!”
Smiling, Mandy settled back to listen as Luke went on and on about how much fun the ride had been. She definitely needed to bring him out again soon. She sneaked a glance at Zach, grateful to him for coming up with the idea. It was wonderful to hear Luke laugh and see his cheeks flushed with excitement. Zach truly was good for him, able to relate with him in a way Mandy could not.
True to his promise, Zach had turned down the beer Ryan offered him, drinking coffee instead. Mandy appreciated that more than he could know. Being a good host, Ryan had taken his cue from his guest, stashing the beer back in the fridge and pouring himself a cup of coffee, too. She wasn’t sure how she would have handled it if Ryan had decided to drink in front of her. Just thinking about it made it difficult to breathe.
Crazy, so crazy. Staring at the back of her brother’s head, she recalled his words to her the other evening. Alcohol wasn’t evil, and her abhorrence of it was irrational. Maybe she should follow Luke’s example and face her fears instead of running from them. Easier said than done. Luke was doing it, though.
Lost in the mire of her thoughts, Mandy jerked back to the present when Zach parked in front of her house. Still riding high on excitement, Luke was first to exit the vehicle. He tapped the ground in front of him with the cane until he found the sidewalk.
Zach, who’d just gotten out of the car and hadn’t shut the door yet, called over the roof, “The walkway is over to your—”
“Don’t tell me,” Luke said, cutting him off. “I need to find it by myself.”
Mandy collected her purse and got out to stand on the grass median, her gaze fixed on her brother. Zach circled the SUV and joined her.
“No hints,” Luke called over his shoulder. “I want to get inside without help. Okay?”
Mandy eyed the steps with trepidation but gave her brother the keys and stayed put, favoring him with a feeble, “Okay.”
As though Zach sensed how difficult this was for her, he settled a hand on her shoulder. At his touch, she jumped. He grinned when she looked up at him. “Even if he falls, he’s young and resilient. He’ll survive a few bumps and bruises.”
“I know. It’s just difficult for me to stand aside and only watch when I’ve done just the opposite for so many years.”
Luke whooped in triumph. “Found it!”
Mandy knew she should turn to watch her brother go up the walk, but Zach’s gaze held hers, and she couldn’t look away. With a sinking sensation deep in her belly, she realized she was starting to feel attracted to him again. He drinks, she reminded herself. But that knowledge no longer disturbed her as much as it had. Zach’s fingertips shifted, and she felt the burn of his touch through her sweatshirt. Oh, man. She was in trouble. There was something about him that addled her senses.
She shifted the jackets they hadn’t used to her left arm, putting the bulk between their bodies. “You don’t happen to have a bridge you want to sell, do you?”
A bewildered frown drew his thick black brows together. “Bridge?”
Mandy laughed and shook her head. “Nothing. Just a silly thought that popped into my mind.”
A slow grin moved over his firm lips. “A bridge? Ah, I get it.” A twinkle of mischief warmed his dark eyes. “If I had one to sell, would you buy it?”
Heat inched up her neck. She stepped away from him to follow her brother into the house. “I’m afraid I might.” She turned to walk backward. “Thanks for the outing. It was a great idea. I can’t remember the last time Luke enjoyed himself so much.”
“Five hundred, and I’ll deliver it gift-wrapped to your doorstep,” he called after her. “You interested in the Brooklyn or the Golden Gate?”
Mandy stuck out her tongue at him. He was still standing there, grinning, when she stepped inside and closed the door.
Chapter Fourteen
During the short drive to the market Mandy told herself that the sole purpose of her trip was to pick up the makings for Coney Island hot dogs. After tossing all the ingredients into the cart, she found herself standing at the store’s wine display. Her fingers clenched over the cart handle so tightly they hurt. Looking at the bottles made sweat pop out on her forehead. Her stomach felt as if it weren’t there, and her lungs hitched as if they might stop working. For an instant the display rotated sickeningly and she hauled in a steadying breath. Luke’s voice whispered in her mind: Run from it for the rest of your life if you like, but don’t
kid yourself into thinking it’s normal.
Oh, how she wanted to get away from all those bottles. Only shame and a sense of doom held her fast. Alcohol isn’t evil, in and of itself. Luke was trying so hard to change. He’d even insisted he would be fine at the house alone while she went shopping. What changes had she tried to make?
Mandy grabbed the nearest bottle. She didn’t know or care what kind it was, because she knew little about wine anymore. Handling the glass container as if it might detonate, she put it in the cart, then sped toward another section of the store where she could breathe. At the end of the aisle, she saw corkscrews hanging on a clip wire. She jerked one free and tossed it into the basket. Sick, I’m going to be sick.
In the bread section, she tried to talk herself down. You’re going to handle this. You can’t chicken out. In a moment of weakness—all right, cowardice—she set the bottle on a shelf beside a stack of bagels. No. She wouldn’t let this beat her, not any longer. She put the wine back in the cart and gulped down the salty taste of nausea.
Once at home, Mandy set the wine on the counter, feeling as if an alien being had touched down in her kitchen. Trying to pretend everything was normal, she busied herself with the hot-dog preparation, which reeled Luke in like a starving trout.
“Yum,” he said, sniffing appreciatively. “Can we do them with the works, chili, onions, relish, mayo, mustard, and grated cheese?”
“Of course,” Mandy replied with forced brightness. “No point in going halfway. I even read the chili labels to get the very worst kind, guaranteed to clog our arteries.”
Silence. With the intuitiveness he often displayed, Luke asked, “What’s wrong?”
Mandy knew better than to pretend with her brother. “I bought some wine.” Her voice quavered. “I feel like there’s a tarantula sitting on the counter, waiting to bite me.”
Another silence. And then Luke said, “Wow, Mands, I’m proud of you. We actually have wine in the house? What kind is it?”
Mandy tried to read the label but was so upset she couldn’t. “Beats me. Pink stuff.”
“If anyone on earth should know her wines, it ought to be you. Dad used to make you go down to the cellar to select the bottles. Remember? You were a vino expert.”
Mandy could recall the spooky trips down the stairway into a section of the basement their father had converted into cellars. But she couldn’t remember anything about the wines. It was as if that part of her memory bank had been obliterated.
She blinked and rubbed her eyes. When she could read the label, she said, “That’s weird. It’s pinkish, but it says it’s white zinfandel.”
“Are we gonna have some?”
That was the plan, to drink a glass, but now that the moment had come, she wasn’t sure she could do it. “I—I don’t know. Maybe it’s a bad idea. I could just throw it out.”
“Not.” Luke tapped his way over to the counter. “Where is it? I’ll open the sucker. Get us a couple of glasses.”
Mandy stared at her brother in mounting dismay. “Luke, you’re too young to drink, for starters, and second, I really don’t want you touching alcohol.”
“Why, because you’re afraid I’ll become a drunk, just like good old Dad?”
“I don’t mean to offend you. It’s just ... well, what if alcoholism runs in his family?”
“If alcoholism runs in his family, it’s unlikely to take hold of me if I have one glass of wine. And what if meanness runs in his family? What if being crazy as a loon runs in his family?” Luke whacked the cane on the floor in agitation. “We’re nothing like him. We can’t live our lives being scared that his bad traits are going to pop up in one of us.”
Luke was right. Mandy closed her eyes. “I just can’t help thinking, What if?”
“Well, stop. I do not want that jerk controlling me the rest of my life. You know what? I don’t think he’s truly an alcoholic. I think he was addicted to the rush he felt when he went on a rampage, and he needed booze to provide an excuse for going there. Maybe his parents abused him. Maybe his brain got injured at birth. Who knows? The only absolute is that neither of us is anything like him.” He groped for the wine bottle. “I’m not going to turn into a monster if I have a glass of wine, and you aren’t, either.” He fingered the mouth of the bottle. “There’s no lid. How does this open?”
With trembling hands, Mandy took it away from him. “You need a corkscrew.”
Luke rested his hip against the cupboards. “This may be fun. I’ve never had wine. Do people ever drink it with Coney Island hot dogs?”
Trying to get into the spirit, Mandy said, “We’re going to. Does that count?”
With several quick twists, she buried the screw into the cork and pushed down on the levers. Memories flashed. How many times had she done this at her father’s fancy dinners? A cold sweat filmed her body. Her pulse picked up, and between every beat, electricity seemed to snap through her bloodstream.
Mandy drew two tall tumblers from a shelf. She had no wineglasses. Her hand shook so badly as she poured that she nearly sloshed white zinfandel all over the counter. The smell—oh, God, that smell. Her gorge rose. The room seemed to pivot slowly on a wobbly axis. She grabbed hold of the counter to steady herself.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered.
Luke felt along the worn Formica surface until his fingertips touched the base of one glass. He curled his hand around it. “Oh, yes, you can. It’s all in your head.” He took a sip of the wine and went still. “Mmm, it’s good, Mands. Sort of sweet. Try it.”
He made his way back to the table. Mandy, frozen in place, engaged in a stare-down with her glass. Finally she reached for it. A chill washed over her as she lifted it to her lips. Just one tiny sip. She had to do this. If she freaked out and didn’t, Luke would accuse her of running from what she feared most.
And, like it or not, she knew he’d be right.
The sweetness filled her mouth. She struggled to swallow, couldn’t. It was physically impossible to ingest fluid when your throat was convulsing to purge your stomach. Holding the glass out to one side, she rushed to the sink and spit.
From behind her, Luke said, “Ah, Mandy. If it were juice, you could drink it. This is no different. Come sit at the table with me. We’ll do it together.”
Mandy walked jerkily to a chair. Her knees nearly buckled as she lowered herself onto the seat. She set the wine in front of her and stared at it until her eyes burned. “For me, it’s like knowingly drinking poison.”
Luke laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “It isn’t poison.”
“To me it is. Do you know how many times Dad knocked me around for making some stupid mistake with the wines?” Her lip curled, a reflexive sneer. “He’d die if he saw us drinking junk that costs less than five bucks a bottle.”
“Good. Let’s rebel.” Luke held up his glass and waited. “You with me?”
Mandy grabbed her tumbler and lifted it. “I’m with you.”
In tandem with Luke, Mandy took another sip of wine. This time the taste was less of a shock, and she was able to swallow. Tense as a well-tuned piano wire, she waited. She wasn’t sure what she thought might happen. When several seconds passed and all she felt was pleasant warmth moving through her, she relaxed slightly.
“You still alive over there?”
“Yes. Lightning didn’t strike. The roof didn’t cave in. I can’t believe it.”
Luke grinned. “I never thought I’d have a glass of wine with my sister. I mean, it’s more likely that we’d buddy-jump from an airplane. You know?”
Mandy giggled. “You’re right. Me and wine? Highly unlikely.”
“Another sip,” Luke urged. “And no trying to cheat. I can hear when you swallow.”
Mandy lifted her glass again. “It’s actually kind of good.”
“Kind of? I think it’s great, sort of like juice, but with a kick.”
They remained at the table to finish that first glass of wine, revisiting unpleasa
nt memories from their childhoods, but creating a lovely new one in the process. Mandy poured them each a little more wine to drink while they made dinner. When they sat down to eat, they were both a tiny bit tipsy.
It was a wonderful dinner. Luke grew more talkative, but otherwise he was the same, only a little more relaxed and inclined to laugh. At moments, she wondered at the wisdom of letting him have alcohol. But if young men his age were being sent off to die for their country, then in her opinion they were old enough to have a glass or two of wine over dinner at home.
As they did the dishes—Mandy rinsed while Luke fumbled to put them in the racks—Luke lectured her once more about alcohol and their father.
“It wasn’t the drink that made him mean, Mands.”
Mandy had to admit that she felt mellow, not agitated, and Luke appeared to be experiencing the same reaction. “What do you think made Dad the way he is?”
Luke felt for the silverware holder. “I have no idea.” He braced a hand on the counter. “I only know I’m really proud of you for what you did tonight.”
He held up his hand. She laughed and gave him a high five. “I was scared.”
“Yeah.” Grabbing another plate, Luke stuck it in the dishwasher, missed the wire uprights, and had to feel with his other hand to position it. “We both have our demons. I’m finding that the more often I face them, the less they frighten me.” He smiled. “This morning when I woke up, I wasn’t scared. I knew you were in the house even though I couldn’t hear you. We’re going to get through this, and come out on the other side.”
She had to think about that. Alcohol. Her dad. All of the changes. But Luke was working with her now instead of against her, and that was a gigantic improvement. “You’re right,” she agreed. “I honestly think we will.”
An hour later, the phone rang. The recorded voice butchered the pronunciation of Zach’s name. Maybe Mandy was still feeling the effects of the wine, because instead of picking up with her usual hello, she said, “Is this a Greek pasta dish calling?”
“A Greek what?”