Page 70 of Heartless
In their five years since arriving at Four Corners, my in-laws also accumulated dishes, blankets, rugs, wall-hangings, and other various knickknacks they were happy to pass along to us.
“It’s the artist in me,” Lis laughed. “I love collecting beautiful things and supporting my fellow craftsmen, but it’s no good if they sit around collecting dust.”
One of the most precious things she gave to me was a bronze sculpture made by her late husband, Carter. Like her, he’d been an accomplished metalsmith, but preferred creating large-scale sculptures over jewelry. Soon after settling in Four Corners, she and Finn recovered a small collection of Carter’s pieces that he’d hidden away in storage.
“Lis, he made this foryou!” I protested when she wheeled the heavy bronze piece into the house on a hand truck. “It’s yours, you should keep it.”
“Oh, I have a half dozen with a lot more sentimental value.” She brought the hand truck upright carefully. “And anyway, I want all of my children to have something of his.” She smiled at me, green eyes glittering. “It’s like he’s still here, watching over his family. Noelle has a favorite that I’ll give to her when she has her own place.”
“That’s really lovely.” I was touched, the will to fight her utterly squashed.
And it was a beautiful sculpture. It looked like a tree, each branch and leaf etched with exquisite details. The trunk however, was that of a woman’s body. Not terribly unique subject matter for a male artist, but I loved how realistic the form was. Wide hips and thick thighs, softness to the belly, and even breasts that were not perfectly symmetrical. All the perceived imperfections made it even more beautiful. I considered asking my mother-in-law if she had been his muse for this particular piece, but decided against it.
Together we placed it in a corner between one of the first-story bedrooms and the stairs. I stared at the bronze tree woman now, for some reason fixating on the fact that the man who created her, who brought her to life from a shapeless hunk of metal, was dead.
Tonight was supposed to be our housewarming party, but the last thing I felt like doing was celebrating.
Is this how one of my men breaks my heart?I wondered.By leaving and never coming back to me?
I hadn’t thought about Noelle’s prophecy from Daren in weeks, brushing it off with every affectionate touch and word from my men since I first heard it. But Reaper’s increasing fear about his own prophecy brought Noelle’s harrowing words to the forefront of my mind.You’re going to get your heart broken. And not just by one man.
“How long?”
“How long what, sugar?” Reaper once again reached for me from his spot on the couch. I relented this time, taking his hand.
“How long until you send a team to go find them? I want to go with, if it comes to that. They might need medical attention.”
My husband sighed, tilting his head back, but at this point he knew better than to argue with me. “One more day. Another full twenty-four hours before we investigate.” He pulled me over the couch’s arm, sending me tumbling across his lap. “And if you’re going, at least one of us will too. No excuses.”
“Fine.” I curled up against his chest, snuggling into the wall of hard muscle. “Fuck, I just want him to be okay.”
“Have faith in Shadow, sugar.” His hands braced around my hip and lower back. “He’s tougher than all of us.”
Gunner came to sit next to us. “I’ll send Horus out that direction tomorrow morning, if that’ll make you feel better.”
I turned in Reaper’s lap, leaning until I stretched between him and Gunner, and rested my head on Gunner’s shoulder. “You’re the best. Thank you.”
“Jandro!” Reaper looked around behind him. “Where’d he go? It’s not like him to miss a cuddle pile.”
“Probably in the garage,” I mused.
Like me, Jandro tried to smother his concern for Shadow by keeping busy. First, he assembled a brand-new luxurious chicken coop in our new backyard, then moved on to every tiny, minute motorcycle repair he could think of. It was getting late, and the birds were all tucked away in their insulated chicken-mansion, so I could only imagine Jandro would be off tinkering with something.
I was dozing off, cozy and warm from my men’s bodies and the fire crackling in the stone fireplace, when a slamming door startled me awake.
“Riders coming into town,” Jandro announced, heading to the sink to wash his hands. “Heard the engines and saw two headlights coming down over the hill.”
“Two?” I jumped up from the couch, Reap and Gun quickly following. “Not three?”
“Pretty sure, yeah.”
“You didn’t see who they were?”
“We’ll find out in a sec,Mariposita.” He dried his hands on a towel and bent to plant a kiss on my forehead. “Too dark and too far away to see shit.”
I went back to pacing, this time on the front porch. The air was chilly and I huddled my arms close as I listened for the approaching motorcycles. As the roars grew louder, I discerned that it was only one bike coming to this part of town. A single headlight hovering over the winding gravel road through the new development confirmed what I suspected. The rider could surely see me now, but it was too dark out and the headlight too blinding for me to see him.
Please be him,I silently begged.Please let it be my Shadow.
