Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
brIELLE
T he clearing is quiet. Well, not really. A light breeze sways the bench swing and ripples through the prairie grasses. Several birds sit perched on the far railing of the porch, sorting through the birdseed feeder I put up last weekend. One of the smaller birds chirps happily, its yellow belly flashing each time it adjusts its stance or ruffles its feathers.
But the clearing feels quiet in a way the city never could.
I settle onto the swing, trying to keep from disturbing the birds. My skin feels tight, like it’s somehow shrinking over my bones. It takes all my willpower to not claw at my chest and belly to try and ease away the horrid feeling.
Touch-starved. And it’s getting worse.
I pull up the article from the Council’s website detailing the condition, trying to find anything that gives more optimistic outcomes than everything else I’ve heard about the condition. Sure, some of the symptoms seem benign. Fever, mind fog, irritability.
But some of them? Some of them are bad bad.
Scent changes. Anxiety. Paranoia. And, to top off the happy little symptom cake, a heat-like haze that drives the Omega to seek out an Alpha’s knot.
Yeah, that sounds about as appealing as being stuck in four inch stilettos for a seven-hour standing-room-only meeting.
I close the browser on my phone and drop it into my lap. Freaking out about it won’t change anything. I’m not going to hop into some random person’s bed just to satisfy my body’s needs.
Maybe I can see if there’s a doctor in Jackson able to prescribe me suppressors. Though the idea of ending up back on those is about as appealing as knotting some random stranger.
It doesn’t have to be a stranger , the little voice inside whispers.
I ignore it, just like I have the last twenty-four hours since smelling Caleb Taylor’s cinnamon scent and wanting to fall to my knees in front of him.
“Brielle, get it together,” I mutter.
I tuck my phone under my leg to keep it from tempting me, and focus on the birds again. I let myself get lost in watching them until a light blue Subaru pulls up at the base of the driveway to the guest house a few hundred feet away.
Melissa’s glasses match her dress today, the sky blue color bringing out the darker strands of her blonde hair which she wears in its natural curls. She waves as she heads toward me, and I can’t help but smile.
The birds scatter as she steps onto the porch.
“Everything good at the ranch?” I ask.
She drops into the space next to me with a heavy sigh. “As good as they can be. Things will slow down once Alec is fully trained and able to take over Trish’s job entirely.”
She drops her head to my shoulder, and the itching sensation crawling under my skin eases just a breath.
“Thank you for all the help,” she says after a minute. “I know you came out here for a fresh start to figure out what you want to do next. Sorry you’ve been spending all the time driving between both ranches.”
“It’s fine, Mel.” I ease away her worries as best I can. Taking over the animals from her has been a breath of fresh air. “I needed something to do other than cosplay Betty at the Rustic Roast.”
She huffs a laugh. “Joan loves having you there,” she admits.
My phone vibrates. I answer the video call and prop it against the chain holding the bench swing.
“Hey, Bri. Is now a good time?”
Faedra sits on the sofa in her living room, the midday sun casting her in literal perfect lighting. It has her green eyes sparkling and her freckles popping against her fair skin. There’s the low din of voices from somewhere near her. The twins must be doing something just out of frame.
“Sure,” I say. I hold a hand out to Melissa. “This is my friend Melissa.”
Faedra smiles as Melissa and her exchange the typical small talk greeting. After a moment, she focuses on me again.
“We were curious if you wanted to join us when we head out there in a couple weeks. I’m not entirely sure of our timeline since Carter and Jude have been planning it. But I know that we have some down time on either side of our route.”
Melissa says, “Oh, I’d love to meet you all in person! And so would Emily.”
Faedra laughs. And then she’s laughing harder as the twins rush into the frame, climbing onto the couch before she can decide if she wants the call to include them. Rose stares at me while Iris giggles and waves.
“Are you coming camping, Aunt Bri?” Rose asks in her bright, clear voice.
“I’m not sure yet. Your mom and I were just starting to talk about it.”
Iris climbs into Faedra’s lap and grabs her cheeks, forcing her to look at the little girl. Faedra laughs even as she pulls her daughter’s hands away from her face. “Please, please, please, Momma. Please, can she come with us?”
Logan sighs and drops onto the couch beside Faedra, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his side. The move is so smooth, the girls don’t even notice that they’ve been effectively pushed off their mother’s lap.
“Not on the big hike, sweetie,” he says. Iris pouts. Rose sighs exactly how Jude always does. He runs his thumb over Iris’s cheek. “But I’m sure we’ll find other ways to spend time with her. Let Momma and me figure out the details while Dahlia is sleeping. How about you girls go play with your space set?”
Both girls nod before running out of the frame again, disappearing just as quickly as they showed up. Melissa laughs.
“Aunt?” she asks.
I shrug, not really sure how to explain just how close I am to my boss’s family. Former boss’s family.
“Brielle and Faedra have been friends ever since they met at the Christmas party of Carter’s company before the twins were born,” Logan says amiably.
Melissa’s eyebrows furrow. Faedra clears her throat.
“Carter is one of my other partners. Brielle worked for his company.”
“Oh, that’s so cool!” Melissa gushes.
“So what do you think, Bri?” Faedra asks after the clatter of the girls dies down. “We were thinking maybe more traditional camping? There’s a couple spots the guys know about along the edge of the Tetons.”
Melissa nods. “Oh yeah! Phelps Lake, right? Or maybe Jenny Lake? It’s so pretty up there.”
The desire to hang out with my friend, to be surrounded by her family, is so strong I can practically taste it.
“If it won’t interrupt your backpacking plans, I’d love to,” I admit.
Logan’s quick to assure me it won’t. As he’s typing something into his phone, Melissa clears her throat.
“Not to be the awkward third wheel here,” she says. “Well, fourth wheel, technically. Actually, you’re an Omega, right, Faedra? So it’s probably more than just the four of us.” She shakes her head and nudges her glasses up her nose. “Anyway, getting distracted. Do you think there’d be space for a couple more people to tag along?”
Faedra looks at Logan who nods before saying, “Definitely.”
Melissa blushes. “Sorry, not to invite myself or anything.”
I grab her hand and squeeze it.
“Having an Omega crash one of these is not unheard of,” Faedra says, humor weaving through her voice. Her cheeks flush a dark red, and Logan kisses her shoulder. It must be an inside joke. Knowing them, I don’t really want to know.
“Will you send me a list of everything I’ll need? I’ve never camped before,” I say. Faedra nods, and Melissa squeals.
“Oh my gosh, this is going to be so much fun. Thank you for letting me tag along!”
Faedra’s smile grows wider.
“I’ll get things finalized with Carter and Jude,” Logan says before kissing Faedra’s temple. “Once we have the permits figured out, we’ll send you the reservation information. It’ll probably be for the end of the month if that works for you. Since we’re hiking our route over July Fourth.”
“That sounds good,” I say.
Melissa offers a quick agreement. Logan stands from the couch and disappears from the frame. Faedra’s gaze follows him, her teeth biting into her lip, before she focuses on the call again.
“We’ll probably have room for a few more tents, too, if there’s anyone else you’d like to invite,” Faedra says. “We’d love to meet everyone out there.”
An odd mixture of anxiety and cautious contentment wells up in me, stealing my breath for a long moment. How long did I move through Brett’s circles, trying to fit in, trying to find a footing somewhere in the groups of fiancees and wives? And yet here were two groups that seemed to truly want me, moved plans around and adjusted their own lives to make sure I have a place within it. Tears well, but I blink them away. Faedra’s eyes sharpen even as Melissa squeezes my hand.
Before I can offer a response that isn’t just a blubbering mess of words, a baby’s cries fill the quiet. Faedra glances over her shoulder, frowning.
“You need to go?” I ask.
She sighs, and it’s answer enough.
“You go take care of Dahlia. I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”
I tuck my phone under my leg again as soon as the call ends. Melissa’s quiet beside me, content with the stillness of the clearing. It’s one of the reasons we bonded so quickly freshman year. At least that one was nicer than us both having alcoholic parents. Or both feeling like we never belonged anywhere we ended up, floating from place to place without being able to build out the roots everyone says are so important for building a happy life.
Would it be possible to have roots here when I hadn’t managed after seven years in Denver? I’d thought I’d had roots. Strong, stable roots that would weather any storm. And yet, they snapped under the pressure and the winds when they came.
I blow out a breath, trying to shake off the whole line of thinking.
“Bad thoughts?” she asks, dropping her head to my shoulder in silent support.
I offer a half smile. “You know me too well.”
She smirks, but it doesn’t touch her eyes. “It’s easy when we’re two sides of the same coin, Bri.”
“Think I’ll ever actually fit in here?” I ask. I don’t really mean to ask it. I don’t want her to worry over my own concerns. But we’ve been best friends for over a decade. Some things just slip out.
She stills, forcing the bench to stop swinging.
Her words are cautious when she says, “I think that trying to blend in is very difficult for Omegas. And probably impossible in small towns where the Karens and Mollys are more interested in the latest gossip than doing something productive and helpful.”
I snort, and she chuckles. “That’s a politician’s answer if I’ve ever heard one, Mel.”
“Well…” she says, her voice rising like she has a surprise.
I laugh harder. There’s no way she’d ever decide to be a politician. The few Omegas that try end up on suppressors to control their reactions to the Alphas around them—and the timing of their heats. Melissa’s never once even wanted to consider going on them.
“What I mean is that I think it’s easy to feel like you never belong no matter where you are,” she says. “You have to decide to carve out a space for yourself, a place you love and that satisfies you. If people talk, then people talk. And in small towns, there’s always someone talking. You just hope that you’re at least in the next room over when they start.”
Some of my worry fades. I rest my head against hers.
“Thank you,” I tell her.
“Any time, Bri.”
“I was thinking of going to the rodeo tonight,” I mention, trying to keep just how much I want to go out of my voice. Melissa freezes. “I’ve never been to one.”
I was too busy being wrapped up with Ethan that summer to go see Brandon compete.
Melissa relaxes. “Then let’s go.”
We sit there for a long time, just watching the prairie around us. The bird with the yellow belly is back, hopping along the porch’s banister to get to the feeder, taking a few pieces before flying off. A small herd of deer cross toward the mountains, the mothers watchful as the smaller fawns walk between them. It’s not until they disappear that I break the quiet around us.
“We should probably get ready,” I say. Melissa hums and sits up, dropping her feet to the porch. “What does someone even wear to the rodeo?”