His parents were somewhat the same. They’d invested and spent frugally and now had enough to live a life they’d decided was truer to their nature. His parents had reinvented themselves, even if it had meant they went their separate ways. He couldn’t imagine the Robertsons going through some midlife crisis. They’d seemed more the type to stay the course of love and life. Now, the one couple who’d seemed to have it all was gone. So much had changed recently. His throat constricted. He needed some space. Damn. If he felt their loss, what must Claire be feeling? Remorse wasn’t what he needed to buy into. He could be her rock and start from there.
He lifted the motorcycle onto a stand and removed the wheels. He’d replaced the worn tires as well as some bent spokes and tightened them one at a time. He’d ridden as a boy and was no stranger to this farm. He jumped the ditches and hills, rode over the fifty-seven acres as familiar as his frame of mind. Not a huge spread but enough space to ride freely and race the wind.
After he reinstalled the front and back wheels and reconnected the chain. He tested the brakes, adjusting the tension, and tuned the suspension. He removed the motorcycle from the stand and set the Honda on the ground. He reached for his helmet and goggles hanging on the wall peg. He pulled open the barn door and pushed the motorcycle outside. He climbed on and kick-started his favorite ride. He gunned the engine, giving his cycle enough power to do a wheelie. A bit juvenile, but he always got a rush as the front wheel lifted off the ground, and he rode across the yard on the back tire.
Jasper barked and ran alongside the motorcycle for a ways while Dustin warmed up. When he was ready to ride hard, he stopped. “See you, boy. Go home.”
In no time, he’d reached the edge of his property and squirted zigzagging lines across the fields. The fields were fallow, and he took his time on runs that were almost too worn down to perceive. He remembered and rode hard, sweat trickling under his helmet and over his body. He hit a narrow sinkhole, careened upward, and for a moment thought he was about to take a fall.
He came down torquing the front wheel and prayed that the ground would be level until he could get the bike under control. The bike sputtered and the engine cut. He pushed up his goggles. He attempted to kick-start the engine but nothing fired. After three more attempts, he took off his helmet. Mosquitos buzzed around while he knelt down beside the motorcycle. Fuel dripped, spilling over his fingers. A carburetor line had come loose.
“Brother.” He had no choice but to walk back to the barn. He stood up and looked out from the ridge at his pasture and far on the other edge, home.
Well, it was still early and he’d be back in less than an hour with his Jeep. Lucky for him, he could take the road because he’d just about ridden off his property. He was nearly to the corner of the farthest field. The house was twenty or so acres due west. He climbed the fence and began walking along the road.
Dust rose up and he recognized that someone had turned onto the road. He hoped that he’d turn and see Claire. He grinned as he recognized her car and watched as she pulled over beside him.
“Hey.” Claire smiled behind sunglasses. “You out for a walk or can I give you a ride?”
“Yes, I’d very much appreciate a lift.” The color of her pale blue dress made her eyes change to the color of the sky.
“Come on, cowboy, climb in.” She half-laughed.
Dustin brushed off his pants and shirt. She looked as fresh as dew on the grass and even though he’d escaped a near collision with the ground, he was covered in dirt and dust.
She reached over and opened the door. As she did, he caught a glimpse of cleavage. He swallowed hard and redirected his gaze back to her face. Her lips were parted, her mouth so inviting. He imagined what it would be like to kiss her, to pull her body into his. Jesus Christ, he had to get a hold.
“How’d it go downtown?” Once inside her car he was bathed in her fragrance, some flowery scent reminding him of spring and warm nights.
“Short. I’m in shock actually. My parents left Fran and me a lot of money.” She was shaking her head. “They saved much more than what we imagined they made in my father’s business.” There was sadness blanketing her eyes and her chin trembled. Dustin wanted to comfort her, to taste those pink lips, feel the way she moved in his arms, and bury his face in her hair. His heartbeat pounded unmercifully in his ears, demanding he do something not just sit there.
“That’s not so bad.” He rubbed his forehead. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
“I don’t know. I can’t get my head around the inheritance. Fran and I have an inheritance. I don’t know what to feel exactly. I’d rather trade it, if I could get my parents back. I’m very thankful. But confused.” She smiled hesitantly. “Is that wrong?”