Whispered Prayers of a Girl Read online

  “Who is she?” he asks, taking my look for something it’s not.

  “No one,” I mutter, slapping some ham down on top of a slice of mayonnaise-covered bread.

  “Bullshit. The only women you’ve had in this house have been your mother and sister, and I know they haven’t been for a visit in a while now.”

  “Leave it.” I peel off a layer of lettuce and slap that down on top of the ham. “She’s no one important.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. Gwen is definitely more than no one. I just haven’t figured out what she is, and I’m scared as shit about it.

  “It’s okay to move on, Alexander,” James says, his deep voice turning softer. “Clara would want you to.”

  I look up and shoot him a glare. Slamming the jar of mayonnaise down on the counter, I growl, “What if I don’t want to move on? I don’t fucking deserve to move on.”

  His expression turns hard. “That’s bullshit and a cop-out if I ever heard one. Stop fucking blaming yourself for something you had no control over.”

  My chest heaves as both anger and grief grip me. I know in my head what he’s saying is true, but my fucking heart just won’t get on board. It insists that there was some way I could have saved them.

  Placing my hands on the counter, I hang my head, trying to rein in the lashing I want to give James.

  “Look, I get it.” When I lift my head to tell him he gets nothing, he continues, as if knowing what I’m about to say. “I may not know from experience what you’re going through, but I still get it. I know it has to be hard, but fuck, Alexander, you can’t live with that regret for the rest of your life and never move on. I’ve left you be, and I’ll continue to do so because I’ve got no right to try to push you into something you aren’t ready for yet, but don’t give up. Don’t close down the option of building something with someone else. You’ll die miserable and with a lot more regret than you carry now.”

  I drop my head again, wanting so damn badly to take his words and run with them. To leave the past in the past and look forward to a future. An image of Gwen pops in my head, and it causes a rush of adrenaline through my veins. If offered the chance, I’d give almost anything to have that future with her.

  Gwen’s gorgeous face is replaced with Clara’s equally gorgeous one. Short blond hair replaces brown, and green eyes replace blue. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter when my beautiful baby girl’s face appears. I miss them so fucking much. I want to reach inside my mind, snatch them out, and place them in front of me so I can touch them. Knowing that’s impossible, I also want to shove them away. I want to forget them because remembering them hurts so damn much. But then the thought of doing that sends splinters of pain to my chest and stomach. It makes me physically ill.

  A hand grips my shoulder tightly, and I look up to see James standing beside me, a look of empathy on his face.

  “No pressure, but you really need to think about the possibility of moving on. You can’t hold on to them forever.”

  He lets go, walks out of the kitchen, and a minute later, I hear the click of the front door closing. Gigi nudges my thigh with her nose, sensing my pain, and I absently reach down and rub her head.

  Unable to stomach food at the moment, I put the sandwich in a container and place it in the fridge for later. My eyes land on the earrings on the counter, and I finger one of them.

  Last night, when I saw her message, my body tensed, ready to bolt into action and race to town. When she said she just wanted to say hi, I relaxed back in bed, but adrenaline still ran through my veins. It’s been a week since I saw her, and it surprised me how much I missed her. And Daniel and Kelsey. There’s been several times I’ve caught myself grabbing for my keys to drive to town and hunt her down. I don’t know where she lives, but it wouldn’t take much to find out.

  When she mentioned Kelsey using the crossword puzzle I made for her and Daniel carrying the horse around with him, it warmed my heart. My eyes land on the small box in the living room that carries part of my grandfather’s wood carving collection. Two days after they left, I was in the barn tending to the horses when I came across the box. My mind automatically went to Daniel. Wiping off the dust, I carried the box inside. I didn’t know then why I brought them into the house. There were no plans for me to see Daniel again, but something compelled me. Maybe a small glimmer of hope that I would see him again.

  Picking up the earrings, I put them in my pocket and leave the kitchen. I take a seat on the couch and grab the notebook from the end table. I flip it open to about a quarter of the way through. Last night I told Gwen I’d have to make Kelsey another crossword puzzle for when she was done with her current one. What I didn’t say was I had already started on one. The last one was a rush job, so I’m sure to a seasoned crossword puzzler—like Kelsey seems to be—they’re easy. I’m making this one a bit more tough.

  I spend the next couple hours working on the crossword puzzles, then dig through the box of wooden figurines. There are several different horses, they were my grandfather’s favorite to carve, but there’s also other animals. I pick up a fox, specifically remembering when he carved it. He had just gotten done with the tail when the knife slipped and cut into his finger. He didn’t use the special whittling knives, but just a regular pocket knife. He said it was just a hobby to him, so he wasn’t going to spend a lot of money on whittling knives.

  The knife cut through and the only thing that stopped it from chopping off his finger was the bone. I was eight at the time, so when I saw the blood, I turned white and had to sit on the floor before I passed out. I watched as he grabbed several napkins, wrapped them around his finger, and taped them on with masking tape. He then proceeded to finish the fox. Later that day when my grandmother saw his bandage job, she started yelling at him for waiting too long to have it tended to. He drank a bottle of whiskey while she sewed him up. That was grandpa, stubborn and tough as they came.

  I chuckle when I run my finger over the rusty bloodstain that never came out of the wood. I put it back down and pick up a carved dinosaur. Or what’s supposed to be a carved dinosaur. This was my one and only attempt at wood carving and it turn out to be a disaster. I ended up cutting myself as well, but unlike my grandpa, my mom insisted I go get stitches. I was ten and it hurt like a bitch, so I told my grandpa that I’d leave the wood carving up to him.

  After looking through the box a few more minutes, I close it up. If given the opportunity, I’ll let Daniel pick out the ones he likes.

  I call Gigi and we both go outside to close up the barn and make sure the horses are in their respective stalls for the night. The sun’s already setting as we walk across the yard. As much as I enjoy winter, I hate the short days.

  Once the horses are situated, Gigi and I go back inside, completely ignoring Clara’s house. I’ve had enough of the memories for today. Gigi trots to the utility room, while I head to the bathroom for a shower. I had to put the pups back in the utility room because the little rascals were starting to tear shit apart. I normally let them out in the evenings to roam when I’m around to keep an eye on them. A couple of days ago, I started letting them out in the yard.

  Stripping down, I make sure to keep my eyes away from the mirror. Although the scars cover half of my body, I’ve found that if I don’t actually look at myself in the mirror, I can keep the haunting memories at bay easier.

  My shower is quick, and I’m out and dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt ten minutes later. Without looking at the photo, I place it back in the drawer next to the other two before going out to the living room. My phone flashes, indicating I have a notification. My heart rate picks up when I think it might be from Gwen.

  I grab it off the counter, disappointment hitting when I realize it’s from James. I also have an e-mail from Brice, June’s owner. I sent him an e-mail earlier today letting him know that June’s ready to be picked up. I pull up Brice’s e-mail first, confirming the pickup for tomorrow at three. Next, I open James’s message.

  James: I meant to
tell you earlier. Mom invited you over for Christmas. I told her I’d bring it up to you.

  I type out a quick reply.

  Me: Tell your mom I said thanks and Happy Holidays, but I’ll be busy.

  He already knew the answer and so does his mom, but he tries every year. I’m grateful to Martha for caring, but Christmas isn’t a good time for me, and I’d be shitty company. I always spend Christmas alone, mentally preparing for the next day, the anniversary of their deaths. Every year, I spend the day that they died with my good friend Jameson. It’s the only time of year when I get shitfaced. It’s also the two days a year that no one should be around me.

  The ding of my phone interrupts my thoughts. Thinking it’s James replying, I swipe my finger across the screen without looking, then pull in a deep breath when I see Gwen’s name instead. I settle down in a chair before pulling open her message.

  Gwen: Hey. Sorry to bother you again, but I wanted to ask when Gigi’s puppies will be ready to adopt? If you’re adopting them out, that is.

  My lips tip up into a smile.

  Me: They should be ready next week.

  Her reply comes almost immediately.

  Gwen: Before Christmas maybe?!

  I chuckle at her excitement.

  Me: Yes.

  Gwen: Yah! You’ve just made my night. Or rather, unknowingly made the kids’ night. I’d like to get one for them for Christmas.

  She unknowingly made my night as well, because that means I’ll get to see her again. I try to not let that thought get to me, but it does anyway.

  Me: What day would you like to come over to pick one out?

  I lay my phone down on the counter as I wait for her reply. The earrings once again catch my attention. I pick one up and place it in my palm. The diamond at the center of the hoop twinkles in the light from the kitchen.

  My phone pings again.

  Gwen: Does Christmas Eve work for you? In the evening? I’ll have my friend Emma come watch the kids, that way I can surprise them with the pup on Christmas morning.

  Anxiety has my stomach churning. Do I really want to chance being around her so close to the worst day of the year for me? But then I think, maybe it’ll do me good to see something so beautiful before the ugly makes itself known.

  Me: That works.

  Gwen: Great! I’ll see you then. Thank you, Alexander. Have a good night.

  Me: You as well, Gwen.

  I get up from my stool, grab Kelsey’s notebook, and bring it back to the counter. Since Gwen will be coming by next week, I’d like to get it done before then so she can take it back with her.

  Anticipation of seeing Gwen again has my blood pumping faster. We may not ever really be anything to each other, but even so, the thought leaves my chest feeling lighter.

  Six days. Only six days before she’ll be here. I silently pray those days go by quickly, even knowing I have no right to ask for such a thing.

  Chapter 11

  Gwendolyn

  I grip the steering wheel tightly with sweaty palms as nerves leave me shaking. I feel silly that I’m so nervous, but no matter how much I try to calm myself down, it doesn’t work. I’m like a schoolgirl on her first date, waiting on that moment he leans in for the first kiss. And this isn’t even a date. I’m going to pick out a puppy for my kids, for goodness sake.

  Get a hold of yourself, Gwen! I chastise myself.

  Pulling in a deep breath, I try to calm my racing heart as I turn down Alexander’s driveway. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve seen him, but we’ve texted every night since that first message. I don’t know if he’s just doing it to be polite, but it’s been nice. The only thing that makes me feel better is he’s initiated some of our conversations. It’s crazy to think about how much I’ve missed him, considering I’ve only known the guy for a little over two weeks.

  As much as I missed him though, I’m just as scared to see him again. What if he’s turned back into the brusque guy he was that first day? What if he just thrusts a puppy in my arms and tells me to leave? I’m not under the illusion he feels anything for me, but it would be nice if we could at least be friends. He seems like he needs friends. Remembering the old ladies at the market and what they were whispering amongst themselves, I understand why he stays away.

  I pull to a stop in front of his cabin and turn off my car. I force my hands to hold steady as I reach for the door handle. Stepping out, I look around. It looks different with the snow gone. Just as pretty, but different. I notice a chair sitting in front of the half-built house and briefly wonder what he’s been doing sitting out here. A soft neigh catches my attention. A couple of horses are grazing in the field. I smile as one of the horses tosses its head, its long mane blowing in the wind.

  I turn when I hear a creaking sound and find Alexander on the porch watching me. He must have been sitting in the chair. He’s wearing a pair of old jeans and a gray-and-red plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up his forearms and a white shirt peeking out the top where a few buttons are unbuttoned. His face appears serious and tense, the scars marring the beautiful surface in tight lines.

  Nervously, I lift my hand and wave. “Hi.”

  He’s silent for a moment, and I shuffle my feet, suddenly feeling unwelcome. Then he says something that has my chest blossoming.

  “It’s good to see you again, Gwen.”

  I can’t help the smile that steals across my face or the flutters that start in my belly. Unexpected pleasure takes root inside me.

  I start walking toward him, and it pleases me more to see his lips are tipped up into a small smile. The man is so breathtaking I could look at him all day. The thought has a blush creeping up my cheeks.

  By the time I make it up the steps, my anxiety is getting to me again. Why in the world is this so hard? It’s ridiculous, and I once again give myself an inner pep talk.

  “How have you been?” he asks, once I’m standing in front of him.

  It takes me a minute to ensure my voice doesn’t come out breathless. “I’m fine. And you?”

  He tips his head up and grunts, “Good.”

  “I, uh… I really appreciate you letting me adopt one of Gigi’s puppies. The kids will love having one around.”

  Something flickers in his eyes, but before I can figure out what it is, he says, “No problem. I only plan to keep one, so I’ll be looking for a place for the others anyway. You just made it a bit easier for me.”

  An idea comes to me. “If you’d like, I can talk to Jeremy and see if he and his mom would like one.”

  He nods, and after a moment of silence, asks, “Would you like to come in?”

  “Sure.”

  I follow him into the house and immediately feel like I’m home. A pang hits my chest. Everything looks the same as it was before, but it’s silly to think it would be different. It’s only been two weeks. I almost laugh at myself.

  “Something to drink?” Alexander asks, standing by the bar. He appears to be as nervous as I am and it lessons some of my anxiety.

  “Yes, please.”

  He turns, and I follow him into the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the stools. There’s a pot of something boiling on the stove that smells delicious. He pulls two glasses out of the cabinet, sets them down, and retrieves a pitcher of tea out of the fridge. After pouring us both a glass, he slides one across to me.

  “How’s business?” I ask, then want to smack my forehead.

  How’s business? How freaking generic is that?

  As if sensing my inner foolishness, one corner of his mouth tips up into a smirk. The look renders me speechless and I duck my head in embarrassment. I’m not cut out for this. I should have gone to a pet store and gotten a puppy from there.

  “It’s good. Got another horse today,” he answers. “Looking forward to working with her.”

  I lift my head, forcing myself to get past my awkwardness. “It’s a girl? What’s her name?”

  “Nina.”

  A fierce pain nearly has me falling from
my chair. “I’ve always loved that name.” I look down at the glass in my hands. “Will and I… if we had another girl, had planned to name her Nina after my mother.” I bring my gaze back to him and smile sadly. “Kelsey’s name came from his mom.”

  Alexander’s brows dip down in a frown. “Maybe one day you still could.”

  A month ago I would have thought the idea impossible, but now, looking at Alexander and thinking about what he’s made me feel recently, the idea doesn’t scare me as much. An image pops in my head of Alexander holding a baby girl. It’s unrealistic to place him in that image, but it formed before I could stop it. I have no clue what my feelings for him are or his for me, but something deep inside has placed him in my vision for a reason. I saw the way he was with Daniel and Kelsey. Alexander would make a wonderful father. I have no doubt in my mind.

  Emma’s words from the other day play in my head.

  I don’t know how accurate it is, but from what I was told, his wife and little girl drowned.

  Looking at Alexander and knowing what I know, I understand why he seemed so hard that day at the grocery store and when he found me and the kids. Anyone that went through what he did would be left bitter.

  The scars on his face and arm give him even more reason. People can be so insensitive to things they haven’t experienced, and I’m sure he’s heard the rumors and whispers.

  I give him a soft smile. “Yeah. Maybe one day.”

  The look that crosses his face confuses me. It’s a mixture of longing and pain. He turns away before I can decipher the meaning behind it, and sets his empty glass down in the sink. When he turns back, the look is gone, and I wonder if I imagined it.

  “Puppies are this way,” he says, his voice coming out deeper than normal. “You wanna go pick one out?”

  I get up from my stool and carry my glass to the sink, depositing it beside his before turning back to him.

  “Lead the way.”

  He takes me through a door in the kitchen, one I hadn’t gone in during my time here. It seems to be a big utility room. There are several stacks of totes in one corner with a work bench beside them, a multitude of tools littering the surface. Typical male, leaving his tools out. There’s a weight machine and treadmill off to one side. Front and center is a big black motorcycle.