"You got through four years of accounting?" I ask Taryn, tagging along at her heel.

"That's what I said!"

The path to the pond starts wide and ends narrow, and we're just past the point where our shoulders might brush.

She skittered ahead, and I took the rear. The heat may be terrible, but the view is nothing to complain about. There are wildflowers everywhere, even where they shouldn't be. And, well, Taryn is in front of me in these tiny denim shorts that somehow manage to be a little loose at the hips. At least occasionally, I can overlook the fact that I'm sweating like a whore in church.

I'm glad she's upwind and her eyes are ahead. She hasn't yet seen me clawing at my hand, either. I got stung twice by my left thumb. I grabbed the wood beside the hole in the barn on my way out and the hornet nearby wasn't having it. It's nothing tragic, but it is all itchy and puffy, and rather distracting, too. 

"And I graduated with honors," Taryn informs me a beat later. She takes a moment to undo the messy knot of hair that has fallen astray. It's thick, long, and a bit wild. It may come in light brown at the root, but time and the elements have lightened it into this rich coppery blond with a bit of a wave to it. "Why are you acting so surprised? Should I be offended?"

"Of course not." I pinch my eyes shut as she wrangles her hair back into the ponytail structure she seems to prefer. It's just sensory overload, and I need to focus here, and fast. "It's just..."

"Just what? Let me hear it!" She turns around and does the "bring it on" gesture with her hands while strutting backwards. "Whatever sexist comment you were going to make!" She resumes walking forward.

"Easy there, quick to judge," I toss back to her once the spike in my blood pressure has a chance to subside. "I'm impressed, is all. You're obviously capable. All Abernathys are or were. They're dreamers, though, and you somehow turned out practical. If it wouldn't be too sexist of me to say so, I could probably get you a job interview in less than ten minutes." A number of small business owners in my acquaintance need help like hers. She wouldn't get rich in this town, but she would certainly get by, no major issues.

Taryn's narrow shoulders flex at the offer, like she's at least considering it. Then her head turns back for a glimpse of me. She has a slight smile, but it fades quickly, and sorrow seems to take its place. "I had to be practical." Her head is neutral again, but her voice is not. "Too many dreams died with my father."

"Yeah, no kiddin'." I try saying it consolingly, but I feel like I fall short. "How are you doing with all that anyway?" I throw in for good measure.

"Probably better than you are!" she sasses back.

Nice try, I tell myself. I obviously hit a nerve instead. "I suppose you're right," I admit, hoping it'll help. "I had nothing when I came here, and being around so many dreamers, I caught the bug and caught it hard. That part of me thought I'd be running this place by now."

Above the crunch of gravel, I just catch the slight snicker. "You were always better with horses than most people."

"I consider that a compliment."

As her mind seems to churn, her stride loses some of its length. "Do you not like being a cop?"

I'm not sure anyone has ever asked me that before. "It pays the bills, keeps me honest and some of my bad habits in check." In simpler terms, I'm trying to eat right for the first time in my life, and I'm spending more time at the gym than the bar. "A lot of police work is either boring or godawful, but there are elements I can at least appreciate. I'm all for community and brotherhood, for example. But then, on either side of the law, there are those who just want to hurt people and that grates on you after a while. I've only done it for four years, and there are days it feels like forty."

"Hmm," is her only response.

"What does hmm mean?" I ask, genuinely curious. She can be a tough cookie to crack sometimes, especially when it comes to me and anything heartfelt I share. I know she cares, but it's hard to tell in what way. If it's like a brother, I'd like to know. It might get my eyes to stop wandering. Might being the operative word here.

"Hmm means hmm," she insists, and it's aggravating as hell.

"Why do you keep dodging every question I ask?"

"I'm not!"

"You just did! So, Taryn, what is it you want?"

She emits an angry sigh and shuffles a few extra steps ahead. "I'd tell you if I thought you could handle it!"

We start slowing down as the pond comes into view. The spring has been fairly rainy. It's nice to know that something on the property is thriving. It's as full and lively as it's ever been.

"You don't think I can handle it?" I banter back as we come to a full stop, the water only inches away. "Well, fine, then, let me guess . . . a big crime-ridden city. Long hours crunching those big numbers. A power suit and those torture contraptions they call shoes. A place without a view that's a thousand dollars a square foot. Married to some pompous twit who'd complain, in his silk pajamas, that his 'needs' aren't being met. How am I doing so far?"

"If you think that's what I want, then you really haven't been paying attention."

That's what I wanted to hear, but she doesn't give me the opportunity to gloat or relish the moment. Out of nowhere, she pulls off her tank top. The bikini I didn't realize she was wearing is brownish in color, and nicely compliments her tan and hair color. But, for a second there, it looked like she wasn't wearing anything at all. My heart literally jumped into my throat and my brain took a dive to the second home it hasn't visited in a while, at least not in the presence of company. 

I put up a hand and pinch my eyes shut as well. "Sweet Jesus! Could you give a dolt like me a little bit of warning?"

"It's so hot I can't think straight." I hear one and then two articles of clothing drop. Her shorts must be off as well. "And I have no running water. So, you're just gonna have to deal with it."

I catch a whiff of sunscreen and a hint of sweat that is far from off-putting. And before I should, I drop my hand and open my eyes, and take in the back view of her as she's entering the water. The suit is simple in design with smooth lines. It may not be that revealing by "spring break" standards, but it clings to her like skin, so in an unassuming way, it's just as absent.

"All right. I'm in," she proclaims, just as I dig up the good sense to turn around. "You don't have to suffer through the sight of me anymore." She actually sounds hurt, and that is not what I intended.

I guess I am better with horses than most people. Especially beautiful women I have a complicated history with. Someone who is probably too young for me. I suppose four years is not that awful of a gap in this decade of our lives, but it's still one I've never attempted to span before. Never had the desire or opportunity. And here I am, confronted with both, and I manage to screw it up at the first show of skin. The first intentional one, anyway. The glimpse last night when she was changing doesn't count if she never knew about it.

Best to apologize. "I'm sorry." I have nothing further to say at this time. Whatever I'd attempt, I'd regret.

She's treading water backwards and stops in the middle. Once she dunks under, any lingering crankiness seems to wash away. "Aren't you coming in? You're practically melting! Do yourself a favor!"

"I didn't bring a suit." I lean against the boulder I'm supposed to be scouring for clues. Pain first, I figured, but Taryn has prioritized pleasure, and I can't say I blame her. 

"That's never stopped you before." She swims forward, her lips under water. She doesn't want me to know she's smiling, but her eyes are so big and expressive, she can't exactly hide it.

"We're back to that, are we?" I set my hat down and bounce myself off the rock. "All the ways poor Grady was inappropriate when he was too young to know any better." I bend over and start with the boots. "And when I ask you about it, you're not gonna tell me, are ya?" I get them off, lean them against the rock, and stuff my socks in.

I get a dry, airy laugh out of that. "No, not likely."

"You're lucky I like you," I say, and then I pull off my shirt.

When my view clears, I catch the tail-end of her eyes bugging out. She has enough class to look away and not say anything.

I wish I could say the same.

Nevertheless, the cat is out of the bag. She's at least thought about me in a way that's not very sisterly. Until now, I had no way of knowing. She's been playful but guarded about anything that would matter to her, and I can't ever tell if I'm on the inside or outside of that. Is she protecting me from the truth or just herself from me knowing?

One thing is for sure. Quinn never looked at me quite like that. There wasn't much to see until I started trying and by that time, she knew my body as well as her own. There was no surprise or suspense. I took comfort in that, but I admit, that's not the craving I have right now.

Going for it is tempting. And terrifying. And insensitive with her sister missing. At some point today, the guilt will set in, and it'll likely be at the most inconvenient time possible.

The jeans need to be handled more discreetly, and I face the rock for that. After a deep breath and a slow count to ten, I undo the belt, drop the drawers, and turn around to face the music in just my boxer shorts.

"No ogling," I point at her to say. Then I waddle toward the pond with strategic hand placement and bare feet that aren't jibing with the hot rocks. I recoil once my toes hit the water. "It's cold!" I take a step back and for the first time all day, I shiver. I'm moist from head to toe anyway, and this swimming venture will just ruin my underwear.  

Taryn, meanwhile, slaps the water and throws her gaze to heaven. "Sweet Jesus, Grady." That's her stealing my line. "Would you just get in already? I promise I won't bite."

"Don't make promises that you can't keep." At that, I dive in and experience great joy when I locate her ankle and pull.

I hear the yelp from underwater and she sends a tidal wave toward me as soon as I surface. I'm ready for it, though, and launch one back at her. She coughs and sputters, and just as I'm about to ask her if she's okay, she splashes my face while my eyes, my mouth, my everything are wide open.

She is such a cheater!

While we're attacking and retaliating, chasing or being chased, it becomes easy to forget that we're here for a reason, and it's not to have the time of our lives. I wish it was, because I like forgetting. It feels good. Better than I've felt in a long time.

It's not meant to last, though. And it ends as abruptly as it started.

Glancing at the boulder and running my eyes down it at a different angle, it dawns on me where we're supposed to look. And I just know we'll find something this time.

"What is it?" Taryn asks me the moment I deflate.

For some reason, I can't seem to get enough air in my lungs.

When gray static starts chewing up the corners of my vision, Taryn grips me around the shoulders from behind. "There's no rush. We'll get to it when you're ready."

The words slowly seep in. I find the will to nod and then I start breathing normally again.

I knew the guilt would hit me. I just didn't expect half a panic attack in such precarious circumstances.

"To answer your question from earlier," she murmurs in my ear. "I want my home back."

I pat her arm to let her know I'm okay, and she can let go. "I'm aware."

The truth is in her eyes, everything she looks at.

"And you're right." I start an easy glide toward the waterside. "That is hard to handle."

"Why is that?" Taryn asks as she catches up to me.

We exit the water side by side. "It means we have our work cut out for us."

"We?" she probes deeper at exactly the word I expected.

"You better believe it's a we. If you hire another foreman, I will never forgive you!"

Morgan Wade – Roman Candle

https://youtu.be/ei5ZpuC62wU