Chapter 2Janie

Chapter 2 Janie

I opened the door to the stables, bracing myself for how much Molly’s eye might have deteriorated since the morning. So far, I hadn’t managed to get even a tiny drop of the medicine in it, and couldn’t afford to call the vet back in. I had to do this, or my beloved, moody mare might lose her sight.

Hearing my footsteps, Molly neighed in her corner. I changed her hay and let her out of the stall to take a little walk. She’d be more agreeable this way, I told myself. Not that it seemed to make a difference. What I’d learned about horses so far was that if they didn’t want to do something, they didn’t do it. You couldn’t force them or sway them. Especially if you were 5 foot 3 inches tall with limited equestrian skills.

I’d chosen this life. Maybe I hadn’t expected to run it alone, too broke to hire help, but I was dealing with the consequences of my actions, so self-pity was not allowed. Things had to be done, and there was nobody else here to do them.

I kept the eyedrops hidden inside the loose sleeve of my linen top and used my other hand to pick up a brush. I patted and brushed Molly, trying to act as usual. As I got closer, I saw the puss draining from the corner of her eye and my chest squeezed. What if she did lose her eyesight? It wasn’t right for her to pay the price for my divorce.

I took a deep breath and swung my arm to her eye level, trying to spray directly into the infected eye. But Molly must have sensed my ruse and reared on her hind legs. The sudden move threw me off balance. I felt eyedrops sprinkling on my face before I stumbled and fell on my bottom.

“Are you okay?”

I heard the Turkish accent over the sound of clanking hooves and before I could answer, Emir appeared, reaching for me with both hands. He helped me up, just in time before my panicked horse trampled us both.

Disoriented and with my ass aching, I tried to grab Molly’s reins to stop her thrashing around, but Emir was faster. I watched, stunned, as he took hold of her, soothing her so quickly I instinctively checked his hands for a needle. Molly didn’t calm down like that, not with me or the vet. Not without a tranquilizer.

She wasn’t the easiest horse, which no one had warned me about. I’d been duped more than once when buying the farm and its animals. In my experience, the country folk absolutely loved to fleece na?ve city people who took up farming in their 40s. Being a well-known TV presenter, swindling me probably earned them a special mention. Maybe there was a hall of fame at the local pub. I’d been too scared to visit.

“How did you do that?” I whispered, trying to breathe soundlessly so I wouldn’t disturb the magical scene.

Emir kept his gaze on Molly. There was a strange connection there, a mutual understanding. “She’s in pain.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m trying to give her the medicine, but she freaks out every time I go anywhere near her eye.”

“Do you want me to try?”

My hand shaking, I handed him the eye drop bottle, my muscles tensing as I retreated towards the door. Molly would hate this. She would bolt.

Maintaining eye contact while stroking the horse’s mane, Emir slowly raised his other hand above her head and squeezed the bottle empty, moving his hand so that the medicine fell over her swollen eye like raindrops. Molly shook her head and her hooves clanked against the concrete floor, but she didn’t even rear.

I stared at Emir, stunned silent. He was a foot taller than me, which gave him an advantage, but I could have sworn Molly responded to something about him. A presence. I’d struggled with the temperamental mare for months but in that moment, I understood her. There was something about Emir. Quiet, reserved, dark… even angry, but also earnest. Direct. Something that forced you to pay attention and submit.

I released a pent-up sigh. I wanted to possess that power. I wanted to find out what his secret was and steal it.

“Do you have another one? She’ll need more later if that doesn’t clear up.” Emir handled back the nearly empty bottle.

“I’ll get more. It’s a lot cheaper than calling the vet.”

“Should we let her out for a walk?” Emir glanced at the door.

“Yeah, sure. She’s usually happy out there, even overnight. I only brought her in so I could try the eye drops again. I already failed once this morning.”

Emir patted Molly and led her through the double doors. I followed at their heels, watching the way he stroked the horse’s mane, my belly wobbling from jealousy. There was so much care and tenderness, and I hadn’t been touched for quite a while. As much as I told myself I was fine, as much as I focused on the positive, I couldn’t help the pang of longing. The sensation zapped through me like a hit from an electric fence, only a little lower. Dang.

He was a treat for the eyes, this dark Turk. Especially from behind, when I couldn’t see that unnerving frown, only the blue dress shirt hugging his broad shoulders, tapering down to a narrow waist. He’d tucked the shirt into a pair of grey dress pants, far too formal for any farm, and way too warm for the weather. But I couldn’t deny how well they accentuated his rear end.

I hurried ahead of them, to stop myself from leering over his form. I’d gone soft in the head, living here all by myself. Had I known I’d one day find myself single out here, I would have never taken the leap. But there was no point in second guessing. I’d made every decision leading up to this moment, and I’d own each one of them. Janie Andrews wasn’t a quitter.

Emir turned to me. “Do you need to close any gates?”

“No, it’s all fenced. Although the fence is falling apart in a couple of places but Molly’s good. She won’t escape.”

He let go of the horse, but Molly didn’t leave. Not until Emir patted her again, as if giving permission.

As the horse finally launched into a lazy gallop towards the green hill, I edged closer to Emir. “How did you gain her trust like that? I think she’s still wary of me, after eight months.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe you smile too much.”

I nearly protested, until I detected the slightest hint of amusement behind his eyes.

“I’ll try to frown more. Molly seems to love that.” I folded my arms to stop myself from playfully slapping his arm.

I touched people all the time without even noticing. I walked up to my sons and hugged them from behind. I rubbed Aria’s shoulders as I passed her in the office and hugged fans who came to talk to me. But with Emir, I obviously needed to reel in my usual impulses. When I’d rested my hand on his olive skin, brushing the rolled-up shirt sleeve he’d shot me a stomach-turning glare. A warning.

“Do you really live here by yourself?” he asked.

“Yeah. That was not the plan, but it worked out that way. My ex organized the boys into a top school in Auckland. They are in their teens, and I understand their choice.”

His shoulders dropped as he let out a deep exhale, looking out to the hills. “It’s perfect.”

“What’s perfect?”

“No people, only animals. A beautiful place.” His expression softened. “You’re very lucky.”

My chest welled. “It’s beautiful and I love it. But it gets lonely. I wasn’t supposed to live here by myself. The change of scenery was supposed to fix my marriage and bring the family closer together. It… didn’t.” I swallowed. Why was I pouring out the sad details of my life to this man?

He turned slowly to peer at me and caught the side of my mouth twitching downwards. “You’re not smiling anymore.”

I gave him a defiant look. “No. Happy now?”

“I’m sorry. It’s not what I wanted. You should smile if you can. If you’re not faking it.”

His accent gave the words an odd rhythm that gave me pause. I was used to the chitchat that followed its own meaningless flow, the words almost secondary to the agreed progression of question and answers that built and then fizzled in a predictable pattern. Nothing seemed to follow a pattern with this man. I didn’t know the steps to this dance. I’d interviewed the most awkward, hostile individuals and I always got something out of them. I could anticipate their moves and approach the topic from different angles. I got what I wanted. But now I didn’t even know what I wanted.

Except for one thing.

“Are you available tomorrow to give Molly her drops? I’ll get a new bottle.”

Emir stared out into the field where the horse had now disappeared. “I can do that.”

“And the day after,” I added, casting a quick glance at his pensive face.

“Okay.”

“And—”

“How many days?” He shot me a look, eyebrows elevated.

“Seven.” I bit my lip.

“Why don’t you ask for seven days?”

I smiled, my face warm. “I thought I should… ease you in.”

His brow furrowed. “What is this easing-in business? Is it a New Zealand thing? Ask for what you want. That’s the only way to get it.”

If only it was that easy. I cleared my throat. “Would you be available to give Molly her drops for seven days in a row?” My voice nearly broke at the end. It was a lot to ask, and I wasn’t one who asked for help. I paid people. The fact that I couldn’t hire someone to deal with this made me nauseous.

“I’ll do it for the horse. I like her.”

Was he saying he didn’t like me? “Thank you.”

He studied my face for an unnervingly long time. “But there’s something else I want to do for you, and I was warned that you might not accept help.”

For some dirty, inexcusable reason, my heart jumped into my throat, and I only managed to nod.

Emir took a step closer, so close I could smell his spicy aftershave. It’s a cultural thing, I reminded myself. It doesn’t mean anything. I’d travelled in the Middle East where people constantly invaded your personal space, which for us Kiwis was a mile wide.

“My parents are worried that hosting the party will inconvenience you. It’s usually paid for by the bride’s parents but in this case, the bride’s parents are not wealthy. And you’re not even family. It’s not fair for you to spend on this. My parents are more than happy to cover the costs.”

“What are you talking about? There’re no costs to cover! It’s my place and I’m happy to offer it to Aria and Cem. We’re not that strict about protocol down here.”

He stared at me like I’d suggested the earth is flat. “Of course, there are costs. Even the time you put in is quantifiable.”

I met his sharp stare and marveled at the deep brown of his eyes. They were far too beautiful a window to such a cold, calculating mind. “Stop quantifying. I can do what I want with my own time and property.”

“But you worry about money.” He crossed his arms, gazing out to the fields.

“No! I’m fine.”

He turned to me with a look that beckoned me to give it up. “You’d rather ask me to treat your horse for a week than call the vet.”

I huffed. “Maybe I like your company.”

The way he scoffed made me sad. Was that so far-fetched? He wasn’t the most cheerful sort, but he might be able to save my horse and if I was honest, Emir fascinated me. I couldn’t see any of his buttons, but I itched to find them. Push them.

“Why not?” I insisted, winking at him. “You’re very handsome.”

“If you like looking at Turkish men, look at Cem. He’s always smiling.”

“But he’s not as handsome.” The simple truth of it slipped from my mouth before I could fully process the implications.

Was I trying to flirt with this guy? To what end? I hugged myself, noting the evening chill. The sun was already low, casting long shadows across the green grass. Should I leave Molly out for the night, or get her back inside? I still googled half the decisions I had to make on the farm. The more I learned, the more I realized how little I knew about looking after animals or growing anything.

Not waiting for his response, I wandered after my horse, to check that she was still within the boundary. If she seemed happy, I’d let her stay out. It didn’t look like the weather was about to turn. I was surprised when I heard Emir’s footsteps behind me. When I reached a higher point on the hill and climbed on a flat rock, he stopped next to me. Even standing on the rock, I only reached his eye level.

“Do you mean it?” he asked.

“What?” I blinked, pretending like I had no idea what he was talking about. To make him squirm.

“Do you honestly prefer my looks to Cem’s or are you making fun of me?” I could see the faint glow of embarrassment behind his eyes, but he held my gaze without flinching.

Was he insecure about his looks? This tall, dark, menacing man? His hair was shorter than Cem’s and he only had a slight shadow of a stubble. I could certainly appreciate Cem’s movie star looks, but there was something about Emir that captivated me.

Emir kept looking at me, expectantly, until I could only give him the truth. I could feel the fight seep out of me, all the flirty fun I’d planned to have on his expense, or with him, or to amuse myself. Everything vaporized and I found my jaw wobbling a little when I replied. “Yes, I think you’re more handsome. That’s my personal preference. Is that important to you?”

The question threw him a little, and I congratulated myself for that tiny hit. I couldn’t allow him to dominate our conversation with that dark stare.

Emir folded his arms, giving me an unobstructed view of forearm muscle. Well played, sir. I spotted Molly in the distance, grazing by the large hazelnut tree. At least she was still on the property.

I hopped off the rock and headed back towards the house. He reached me at the door. “To answer your question, I think it is important. Not because I care about being handsome but… other reasons.” His enigmatic eyes flicked past my shoulder and the expression on his face darkened. “So, thank you. For saying that.”

My cheeks pulsed with warmth. If only he knew how attractive I found him, especially in that moment of sincerity. I had to wedge my hands into my pockets to keep from placing them on his chest and gasping like some sort of Regency lady overcome by emotion. I’d picked up a couple of old romance books from the library, to ease my loneliness and probably inflate my expectations. I hadn’t read them yet, but the covers had already given me ideas. “No problem. I mean it.”

The corner of his mouth lifted a fraction, and I felt a sharp, unexpected tug deep in my belly. So, it was true. His smile was magic. Those facial muscles were connected to my insides by an invisible string. “You almost smiled!” My voice crept up and my hands flew to my mouth.

He cocked his head and huffed a sad, short laugh. “What is it with New Zealanders and smiling?”

“I don’t think it’s a cultural thing.” I edged closer to the door and opened it, despite having to step so close that my arm brushed his stomach. A shiver ran through me, and I slipped inside the cool foyer, leaving the door open in case he wanted to follow. My Boston Terrier greeted us with excited jumping. I’d been too nervous to take him with me to see Molly, worried he’d get trampled.

Emir bent down to pet him. “What’s his name?”

“Gru.” I bit my lip. “My younger son named him five years ago, when he was eight.”

He nodded. “Nice to meet you, Gru.”

When I reached the kitchen, Emir stopped at the doorway. “What is it if not cultural? Everyone here smiles all the time, and you seem intent on making me smile.” His eyebrows drew together as he observed me.

I turned on the kettle and set down two teacups. I’d learned from Aria that Turkish men liked their tea strong and sweet, with no milk. That was as close to Turkish as I could make it, and I wanted to try.

He’d followed me all the way from the stables, and now stood in my kitchen. I had to assume Cem and Aria were somewhere outside, but he didn’t seem concerned about their whereabouts, his eyes trained at me. Frowning or not, I had this man’s attention. I decided to use it.

I couldn’t say what gave me the courage. Maybe it was the loneliness carving me hollow, blurring boundaries, as I crossed the floor and placed my thumb on that deep crease between his brows, pressing hard enough to smooth it a little as I massaged my thumb up his forehead. “This here. It must be giving you a headache.”

To my surprise, he didn’t step back from my touch, but allowed me to stroke my thumb across his forehead. I rose to my toes to get closer to his eye level, but still had to hold my arm up in an awkward angle.

Emir closed his eyes, and a deep, weary sigh escaped his lips. “I do have a headache,” he confessed. “Lately, it’s been constant.”

My heart went out to him. Without thinking, I took him by the arm and led him to the dining room, guiding him onto one of the chairs. Never breaking the connection, I placed my fingers on his forehead and massaged along his scalp.

“What are you doing?” he asked but didn’t pull away.

Gru followed us, settling at his feet.

“Indian head massage,” I said. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” he groaned. The sound came from somewhere deep and shot right through me. Oh, the fire. How I’d missed the fire! The feeling of someone’s presence taking over my personal space, forcing me out of my head and into my body. Challenging my self-control.

I liked being in control. I was capable and didn’t need saving. I didn’t need a man. But as the heat pulsed through me, I momentarily wanted to forget every enlightened diary entry I’d written in the dead of night. Every interview I’d given to an enthusiastically nodding journalist. For a moment, I wanted to cancel every word.

I’d been so determined to rise from the ashes of my widely publicized divorce that I’d increased my public appearances. I knew how it worked. If you didn’t tell your own story, they told it for you. If I didn’t sell them on my newfound independence and tranquility of country life, I became a sad little anecdote on every story they wrote about Shaun and his new girlfriend. Even when my name wasn’t mentioned, I was there. When they said, ‘Shaun’s new life after divorce’, I was the divorce. And I refused to be that. So, I’d taken on a new identity like a quick outfit change and become an icon of self-reliant divorced women. The last part wasn’t intentional, but the messages of support that poured in had reaffirmed my conviction.

It hurt. Sometimes even smiling hurt. But it also helped to keep me sane, and over the last few months I’d noticed the smiles coming more easily. I wasn’t faking it. I truly loved my new life, lonely as it was. I didn’t need that fire pulsing in me, not like this. But I could enjoy it all the same.

My fingers worked on Emir’s scalp, diving into his thick hair like I was looking for diamonds in a sheepskin rug. The massage technique I’d learned a long time ago must have been a muscle memory as I didn’t have to think about it. My hands knew what to do, guided by the gruff sounds rising from his throat. This man was in pain. I could feel it now. That frown on his face was starting to make more sense.

After a few minutes, I moved down to his neck. His muscles felt like concrete under my fingertips. “I think you should see a professional. You feel really… wound up.”

“No.” His tone was clipped but he didn’t move.

“But you’re so… stiff.” I gently tapped on the bulging, rock solid trapezius muscle with my thumb, wincing at my choice of words.

Emir grunted. “I don’t like to be touched by strangers.”

I lifted my hands off his skin, my fingertips prickling. “Am I not a stranger?”

He held still for so long I almost filled the silence with another comment out of sheer awkwardness.

Finally, he spoke. “For some reason, your touch doesn’t bother me. It helps.”

I placed my hands back on his neck, a sudden warmth gushing through me like I’d swallowed hot tea. The warmth spread beyond my stomach, compelling me to continue. If I could help this dark, mysterious creature… My fingers kept working, driven by curiosity. What made him so tightly wound? And how had I slipped past his defenses, getting this close?

I needed answers.