Bring Down the Stars (Beautiful Hearts Duet #1)(56)

Now it was ocean eyes holding my gaze. Blue-green and a million miles deep.

It was Weston’s arms around me. Weston’s hard body pressed to mine. He held my face in his hands, his thumbs stroking my cheeks, and the way he looked at me…

I’d never in my life felt so cherished.

There’s so much I want to tell you, he said.

Tell me, I whispered.

He opened his mouth to speak, then raised his head to look at something over my shoulder.

It’s time to go.

What? No…

“Auts? It’s time to go.”

I came awake with a start to my brother shaking my shoulder.

“What…”

“They’re kicking us out.”

I blinked and glanced around, the dream still clinging to me. I could feel Connor’s mouth lingering on mine. Or was it Weston’s? It had felt so real, both kisses. Connor’s, I could still feel on my mouth and body, while Weston’s, I felt somewhere deep, in the center of me…

I shook off the dream and leaned to kiss my father’s cheek. “Bye, Daddy,” I whispered. “Sleep tight. We’ll be back first thing in the morning.”

I had flown to Nebraska literally with nothing but the clothes on my back, so Travis drove me to Wal-Mart so I could get a toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, and underwear. Then we grabbed barbecue chicken from Sully’s BBQ and took it home.

Home.

The big rickety farmhouse with its old wallpaper and creaking boards. The kitchen’s smell of wood and time and my mother’s cooking. The sound of the chickens a little ways down the path to the barn, and the cows lowing in the field. As we drove up, the sun sank behind the crops, casting a gold and lavender hue over the horizon that seem to stretch on forever.

I understood why my brother was content to live here all his life. I loved it here but I’d always known, since I was little, that I wasn’t meant to stay. I would leave, but one day, I’d come back with the man I was going to marry and show him the sunset over our farm. I wanted to share my beginning with him, and see the place where he began too. His home. Then we’d venture out to find the place that was ours.

After dinner, I settled myself in my room that still had posters of Moulin Rouge and Keira Knightley’s Pride and Prejudice hung over the bluebell wallpaper. I still had some clothes stashed in the old dresser. I took a shower and changed out of the dress I’d been wearing, into an old set of men’s style pajamas. I bundled myself up in one of Mom’s afghans, and sat on the porch swing to watch the stars come out.

Around nine o’clock, I opened my phone and reread the last text exchange with Connor. Smiling, I pushed the call button. He answered in three rings.

“Hey you,” he said in his deep voice.

“Hi,” I said. “Are you busy?”

“No, I’m just hanging around here at home. How’s your dad?”

“He’s okay. He made it through the surgery and he opened his eyes.” The tears were already coming. “Thank you so much.”

“It was nothing.”

“It’s everything,” I said, my voice breaking.

“Don’t cry. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is to me,” I said, wiping my eyes with the cuff of my PJs. “It’s a very big deal.”

A short silence fell.

“Okay, well…” I pressed my lips together. “I guess that’s all I wanted to tell you.”

I heard a shuffling and muffled voices, then Connor said, “Autumn, can you hold on for a second? Just give me a second.”

“Uh, sure.”

More shuffling and I thought I heard someone swear. Then Connor came back on the line, his voice whispery and rough.

“Hi. Sorry about that. I was just…getting my thoughts together. Long day.”

“Are you getting a cold?” I asked.

“Hmm?”

“Your voice sounds a little hoarse.”

“Yeah, I got this little tickle going on.” He cleared his throat. “Driving me crazy. And I have to keep it down. Wes is trying to sleep.”

“Oh, I forgot he had a meet this morning,” I said. “How’d it go?”

“Not good. He crashed bad on the hurdles.”

I sat up on the porch swing. “He did? Is he okay?”

“Some bruises and road rash, but he’ll be all right. I think his pride took the brunt of it.”

I laughed a little and sank back down.

“So your father is okay?” he asked.

“They’re taking the breathing tube out tomorrow, which is good. It means he’s on track. God, he looks so weak, though. Frail.”

“You’re there,” he said. “I’m sure that means everything to him. He’ll be up in no time.”

“You think so?”

“You’re worth getting out of bed for, Autumn.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.” I sniffed a laugh and wiped my eyes. “And you do say the sweetest things. Sometimes.”

“But not enough?”

I smiled, cradling the phone closer. “Well…”

“I have a lot to say. I just wish it didn’t take me so long to find my voice.”

“It’s worth waiting for. And worth getting into bed for,” I heard myself add.