Free A Fair to Remember by Barbara Ankrum Page B

anyone. First, there’d been her drunk of a father who couldn’t be saved and had died in spite of her best attempts to rescue him from himself. Then Jake, who she’d driven away into the army out of pure fear. There was the U.S. Equestrian Team and, of course, Kendy, most of all. And, finally, Kyle, whose obsessive nature demanded perfection, something she most definitely couldn’t deliver.
    Her real failure with Kyle was not being able to see what was happening until it was too late. Her judgment had been skewed by her need to please him—her mentor. A pathetic weakness she vowed never to indulge in with a man again.
    The accident with Kendy seemed merely the culmination of all the bad decisions she’d made, a place for her to point and say, “See there? That’s exactly what you deserve for failing every single person in your life.”
    But she’d given Jake fair warning, hadn’t she? She told him she wasn’t available, hadn’t she? Was it so wrong for a thirty-year-old woman to crave a kiss? A touch? To be held by a man who gave a damn about her?
    Yes, oh, yes, when the man was Jake .
    But as he leaned close to her to add silverware to the place setting, her temperature shot up and her will to be reasonable floundered. He smelled like rain and sweet mountain air and something indefinable—a scent that inspired thoughts of sweaty sheets and long, slow kisses in the dark.
    Stop right there .
    Too late.
    The moment the thought occurred, she caught him staring at the pulse in her throat which seemed to have gone rogue, clamoring against her skin like a firehouse alarm. Then his gaze slid up to hers and lingered for a moment before he smiled and picked up his conversation with Deke.
    Dear Lord.
    At dinner, she discovered Deke was, indeed, a gourmet cook. What he did with the fish was every bit as good as anything she’d tasted in downtown Manhattan, at some of the best restaurants in the city. Everything was exquisitely done and delicious, from the souffléd baby potatoes he’d grown in his garden to the heirloom tomato, mozzarella, and basil salad, and key lime pie. Olivia moaned over it all and decided then and there she needed to attend cooking school.
    They drank excellent wine and talked about everything from solar roadways, to the Middle East and everything in between. Olivia enjoyed watching the two men debate, occasionally adding her two cents, which was a big step for her, considering her two cents had been so devalued over the last half a decade.
    At moments like these, she understood exactly how much of herself she’d shoved down while being with Kyle. And how much she loved the freedom of speaking her own mind again. The slow, insidious loss of her very self to her marriage was something she was only now beginning to grasp. What still troubled her was how she’d allowed it to happen at all.
    “That garden is doing well,” Jake said. “You might need another quarter-acre dug at the rate you’re going.”
    “There’s only one of me, here. I’ll have to open a vegetable stand soon as it is. With the short growing season, I’ve learned to put up what I can’t eat.” He turned to Olivia. “Did Jake tell you he dug out that whole garden for me when he stayed with me after he came home?”
    There was so much she didn’t know about Jake. It didn’t surprise her that he’d taken refuge here after leaving the army. Deke was his only living relative.
    “He’s very lucky to have you, Deke. And a place like this to come home to.”
    “That’s a fact,” Jake said, smiling at Deke. “Now if we could just find you a nice lady for you to share it with. I met a woman up in Livingston named Maria who cleans houses and she’s looking for a position—”
    Deke sent him a look she imagined had passed between them many times. “I made my choice years ago, my boy. I’m not about to change courses now.”
    “I suppose not,” he said, “but I keep trying.” Monday came and laid her head in his lap.