Live for Me (Hallow Ranch)

Chapter Sixteen

Abbie

“Hi.”

I turned, finding Denver Langston’s wife standing in the kitchen, a stack of files in her hands. I blinked, awestruck by her beauty. She was tall like me but with more prominent curves. Her dark hair was tied up into an elegant bun on top of her head, a pen tucked behind her ear. She was dressed in a simple lilac dress that stopped mid-calf, the fabric bringing out her green eyes.

I’d been standing in the same spot for the last ten minutes, staring at the front door, unsure of what to do. After Beau left, I ended up on the floor in a mess of tears. My dignity only allowed me two minutes of that before forcing me to my feet. I’d never felt so helpless—so confused.

I didn’t bother painting on a fake smile. I didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore. My mind was running in a million different directions.

“Hi,” I returned.

“I’m Valerie.” Her voice was sweet, southern.

I nodded. “I know.”

Her green eyes dropped down, taking in my appearance, studying me without a shred of judgment in them. “I heard you had a hell of morning,” she began as she met my eyes again. Yeah, she’d heard Beau and me arguing. She heard everything. Heat drifted up to my cheeks, and I cleared my throat, looking anywhere but her.

“You hungry? Harmony should be here in a minute with a late lunch.”

I didn’t even have the energy to lie to her. “Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you,” I told her softly.

She gave me a thin smile and turned around, heading for the butcher block island. “I’m sorry I didn’t come out here sooner. I’m tied up with a bunch of legal paperwork, leasing agreements and stuff,” she explained to me over her shoulder as she set the stack of papers down.

“It’s okay,” I told her, my curiosity almost getting the best of me. I tamped down the questions popping up in my head, my brain looking for the story behind her word and the files. “Could I borrow your phone? I have no idea where mine is. and I need to make a call.”

Valerie turned to me, smirking. “You aren’t going to try and run away. are you? I know Harm helped you, but—”

“I’m not running anymore,” I told her. “I just need to call my boss.”

“The Denver Tribune, right?” she asked.

Jesus, did everyone on this ranch know about my career?

I cleared my throat. “Yes. I’ve been there for a few years now, and I would like to keep my job.”

A soft laugh left her as she reached into the pocket of her dress, pulling out her phone. “I would too if I had your job.” She handed her phone out to me, and I took it with gratitude.

“I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done,” she said. She turned, rounding the island before stopping in her tracks. “Oh, and please don’t leave the house. The last thing I need is a grumpy husband tonight.”

I was fairly certain Denver was always grumpy. “I won’t, Valerie. You have my word.” I was also fairly certain my word didn’t mean shit to anyone on Hallow Ranch. I left her with that and headed into the living room, dialing my boss’ number.

It rang twice before he answered. “Grimsy,” he answered gruffly.

“Mr. Grimsy, it’s Abbie.”

He blew out a breath. “Jesus, Abbie, where the hell have you been?”

“It’s a long story, sir,” I said on a wince, my stomach twisting with nerves.

“Well, lucky for you, my top journalist has been MIA for the last two days and it's been the only thing everyone can focus on,” he said gruffly.

“Sounds like you give a shit, sir,” I said, looking to my feet, doing nothing to hide my smile. Mr. Grimsy may be a money hungry bastard, but he cared for his staff.

“Don’t push it. Talk. What’s going on?” he demanded to know.

Seven minutes later, my boss was caught up and. safe to say, he was furious. “Alright, alright,” he said, blowing out a breath. “I’ll call the police chief and get this sorted.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” I interjected.

“My top fucking journalist went to the police because she was in danger, and they didn’t take her seriously? Absolutely fucking not,” he clipped. Something slammed in the background, and I knew he had just banged his fist onto his desk. “No, no. I’ll be making a call to the chief, and we’ll get flush this fucker out.”

Ash’s word rang out in my head then.

“Wait,” I blurted. “Please don’t do that. That will only make him go back into hiding.”

Mr. Grimsy was silent for three long seconds. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing, Abbie.”

My heart skipped a beat. Yeah, he was money hungry, but down to his core, he was good. He just forgot how to remain good in the midst of the corruption-filled stories we wrote.

“I have someone on it,” I assured, filling him in on Red Snake Investigations. “If you want to do something, you could give them access to the security cameras on my floor.”

“Why would I need to do that?” he asked, confused.

I bit my bottom lip, bracing for his next reaction. “Because my stalker has been in the building before.”

Another loud bang followed, and in the distance, I heard him barking orders about a security meeting to his secretary. I waited, chewing on my lip and staring at the floor. A minute or so later, I heard the phone move, and his voice filled my ear. “Send over the information, and I’ll get someone on it,” he promised in a huff of fury.

I relayed Ash’s information to him.

“Right. Got it. And where did you say you were again? Hayden?” he inquired.

“Yes.”

“There’s a story there, you know.”

My ears perked. “What story?”

“I’ve been meaning to send someone there to dig into it, but I never asked you, given your history with that town,” he explained.

“What’s the story?” I asked.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I can send Mark.”

God, fucking Mark.

“No, I can handle it. What is it?” I pressed, walking to the windows, looking out at the ranch and silently praying the ranch had nothing to do with this. “I need the distraction.”

A sigh left him, a sign of him giving in. I almost smiled when he started speaking again. “A few years ago, a few men from a local firm here went up to Hayden for business. Something about a new hotel development in the town. Anyways, they were never seen or heard from again.”

A chill ran down my spine. “What?”

“Don’t ask me if you can’t handle this story,” he warned.

“I can handle any story,” I shot back firmly. “After everything I’ve covered, the danger I’ve been in, sir, you know I can.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed.

My next question was out of my mouth in an instant, ready for a sense of normalcy again. “If this took place a few years ago, why are you wanting a story on it now?”

“The developer is still interested. They just did a press release on it this morning,” he explained. “They left out why they hadn’t completed the project, so I did some digging.”

My lips twitched. My boss was just like me, always looking for a story.

“You want to work, Abbie? Then work. I’ll email you the details.”

“Yes, sir,” I whispered, feeling purpose for the first time in days.

“Alright,” he muttered. “Anything else you need?”

So much.

But there was nothing else he could give me. “No, sir. When do we go to print?”

“You have a week. Think you can manage that?” he prompted.

“Yes.”

“Good. Check your email,” he ordered before hanging up.

The front door opened behind me, and a raspy voice filled the air. “Hi, Abbie.”

I turned to find Harmony walking in with a few to-go bags in her hands. “Hi, Harmony,” I greeted with a small smile.

“Mason told me about your house,” she said, coming my direction and setting the bags on the coffee table. Her blue eyes were filled with sadness. “Are you okay?”

I looked away from her to the rocking chair in the corner of the living room. I started off the day with her husband hating me, and for the second time, she was checking on me. Harmony Langston was a good fucking person—a treasure in this world of shit.

“I’m okay,” I lied. When my eyes met hers again, she knew I was lying, but she didn’t push it.

“Well, I went into town and got us a late lunch. I didn’t know what you liked. I was going to grab you a turkey club, but Barry gave you your usual instead,” she said, pulling out to-go box from the local diner and holding it out to me.

My hands reached for it automatically as I murmured, “Barry is still there?”

Harmony tucked a curl behind her head before she set out the next two boxes on the table. “Barry owns the diner, actually. He still hasn’t come up with a name yet,” she informed me, laughing at the end as Valerie came into the room with three bottles of water.

She held one out to me with a smile. “How did your call go?” she asked.

“Well, I’m not fired, so that’s something,” I deadpanned.

Harmony chimed in then. “That paper would be a fool to let you go. Your stories are what sell it in the first place.”

“Agreed.” Valerie nodded, opening her bottle and taking a sip. A sigh of satisfaction left her then. “God, I haven’t had anything to eat or drink all day.”

“I’m going to tell your husband that,” Harmony teased, shooting her sister-in-law a look before looking at me. “Let me know if your food is okay. If not, you can have some of mine. This burger is too big for me.”

“Barry’s burgers are too big for everyone,” Valerie muttered, taking another sip.

It was true. All of them weighed over half a pound, topped with an ungodly amount of bacon.

My throat thickened as memories of Beau struggling to finish them as a kid floated to the front of my mind. Even on the days where he’d been working the ranch all day, he still couldn’t finish it.

Shaking those thoughts away, I looked down to the to-go box, knowing what was inside: a grilled cheese, potato soup, and one of Ms. Mary Ann’s oatmeal cookies. It was my usual, because it was the only decent meal I remembered eating as a child.

Once, on my seventh birthday, my mom decided to be a mother. She took me out for a birthday meal, the first time I’d ever been into town. Our school wasn’t anywhere near Main Street, and Momma never took me with her when she went out. Seeing Main Street for the first time was like seeing Times Square. I was in awe of the small-town Momma kept me hidden from me. I don’t remember a lot of good things about my childhood, but I do remember my seventh birthday meal. I remember biting into the grilled cheese, finally tasting fresh bread. I remember how warm the bowl of potato soup made me feel. I remember the sweetness on my tongue from the cookie.

It was the best meal I’d ever eaten.

Years later, when I grew up a bit and ventured into town to eat at the diner, I would always get the same thing. By my senior year, it was my usual.

A tear fell down onto the box, veering me away from memory lane. I snapped out of it, quickly giving the women my back and wiping my tears. They didn’t seem to notice, thank God.

I was tired of crying in front of strangers.

“Thank you for letting me use your phone,” I told Valerie after wiping my mouth.

She gave me smile, waving it off. “Not a problem.”

We were all sitting around the coffee table on the floor, the remains of our late lunch scattered across the wood, dotted with stray napkins and used plastic utensils.

“God, I needed that,” Valerie groaned, letting her head fall back as she patted her belly.

Harmony chuckled. “That was the best lunch I’ve had in days.”

Valerie shot her a look. “You don’t have to eat it, you know.”

Harmony shrugged her shoulders. “They tried so hard. I don’t want them to feel like they failed.”

“People-pleasing is a sickness. You are aware of that, yes?” Valerie asked, raising a brow.

That got her an eye roll.

I had no idea what they were talking about, but I had a strange desire to know. It was an unsettling feeling, after all, being alone in the midst of company.

“The twins made this…stew for everyone earlier this week, and Mase and I got stuck with majority of the leftovers,” Harmony explained, filling me in.

“Stew is not a word I would use to describe what was served to me,” Valerie muttered.

Harmony shook her head, smiling at me. “Don’t listen to Val. She was only brave enough to eat half a bowl.”

“They’re lucky I even managed that,” Valerie said, looking at me. “I mean, it was gray, Abbie. The stew, or whatever you want to call it, was gray!”

I winced. “That sounds nasty,” I admitted.

“It was…unpleasant,” Harmony noted, taking a sip of her water and then holding the bottle to her chest. “But I was grateful for it. The twins helped Mase and me out so much when we were building our house. I didn’t expect that, let alone them wanting to cook for everybody.”

“You know why, though, don’t you?” Valerie prompted, sitting up and bringing her dark waves back over her shoulder.

Harmony shook her head. “Mason said something about them leaving Hallow Ranch soon.”

“Oh, they don’t want to leave,” Valerie assured. “They want to make sure they can stay.”

My brows went up slightly. “Why wouldn’t they be able to stay?” The question slipped from my lips before I could stop it, and both women looked at me, their eyes kind. That was something else I hadn’t expected—the kindness these two women had shown me.

Valerie opened her mouth to answer, but a knock at the front door cut her off, followed by small cries that echoed down from the stairs. Valerie checked the dainty gold watch on her left wrist and muttered a soft curse. “NJ is awake. Harm, would you mind getting the door?” she asked, rising to her feet and disappearing up the stairs.

Harmony put the cap on her water bottle and placed it back on the table as she rose to her feet. “Be back,” she assured me, her rasp a comfort to me now.

As she walked to the foyer, I began gathering the empty to-go boxes and trash. I lifted everything into my arms, heading to the kitchen as Harmony pulled open the door. I didn’t have to search for the trash can; the Langstons were creatures of habit. The trashcan was where it had always been, at the end of the island, hidden away from anyone who came into the kitchen. I dumped the trash and heard a familiar voice.

“Just came to see if I could talk to Abbie for a moment,” Jigs said as I walked into the foyer, coming up behind Harmony.

The old cowboy gave me a warm smile. “You got a second, darlin’? Won’t take but a minute, I promise.”

I always have a second for you, Jigs. Those were the words I wanted to say—the words I craved to say. Hell, they were the words I should’ve said, but instead, I gave him a nod. “Sure.”

Harmony moved out of the way, allowing me to step onto the porch. Jigs walked over to the railing and turned to me as I leaned my hip against it. “The girls feed you?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Good,” he muttered, pulling off his hat and pushing his weathered hand through his white and gray hair. He looked away from me, his throat bobbing, his eyes scanning the ranch. I stared at his profile for half a second, knowing his carbon copy of a son would look exactly like him. Pain coiled in my soul. I would never get to see that, unfortunately.

Another reason to hate my life.

“What is it, Jigs?” I asked softly, wrapping my arms around myself, feeling a sudden chill in the dead of summer.

“You know, when I first came to this ranch, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen,” he began in a way that all older men do when they tell stories. For the life of me, I couldn’t come up with a logical reason to stop him. It was selfish. I didn’t deserve to be standing here beside him, listening to one of his stories. But hell, I missed him so much. So, I kept my mouth shut, studying him and waiting for more. “I was young and dumb when I met John Langston. He was full of shit, but so was I.” His eyes slid over to me, his lips twitching.

I wanted to smile and imagine a younger version of Jigs and John, but I couldn’t. My brain knew John was a bad man and refused to paint him in any decent light.

“Mason Langston is living the dream I thought I would have,” he admitted when he looked back out to the ranch. “I wanted to be the best bull rider in the nation. Hell, a world title sounded nice too. I wanted the glory and the fame. I was in it for all the wrong reasons.” He paused for a moment, leaning against the porch railing, letting his hands hand over the edge. “I was in Little Rock when it happened,” he murmured. “1985.”

I braced for it, knowing what was coming. When I was younger, he never told me this story. To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure if Beau knew either.

“The bastard threw me off at six seconds. I don’t remember much, but I remembered the gasp from the crowd.” He looked down. “I knew I was fucked then.”

“Jigs,” I whispered. I wanted to touch him, to hug him. I wanted to comfort him like one of the thousand times he comforted me.

His eyes met mine. “Don’t want your pity, sweetheart. That’s not why I’m telling you this story.”

My lips thinned. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

A soft yet rough chuckle left him before he continued with the story. “I came back home, and John and Jane nursed me back to health. Hell, John was still paying me while I was stuck in a bunk for six months. Jane would come in every morning, and she had this light about her…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “After I was healed, I met Beau’s mother. I didn’t have bull riding anymore; I didn’t have purpose anymore. So, I made her my purpose, and when she got pregnant with Beau, everything changed for me.”

He looked away, studying the land for a few moments. “When she left me, I couldn’t let it completely destroy me. I had a little boy to raise, after all.”

My throat thickened, a painful lump growing inside it. “What are you doing here, Jigs?” I croaked. I didn’t want to hear this story anymore.

He looked back at me, his mouth in a flat line. “Just came to check on ya, see if there was anything I could do to help you, that’s all,” he said.

I felt the urge to cry again, and I pressed my nails into the palm of my hands. “I’ll be okay,” I promised him thickly.

Another rough yet soft chuckle left him then, and he put on his hat as he looked to his boots. “You strong women…always lying,” he whispered.

His words cracked me in two, and I felt myself flinch. “L-lying?” I parroted, breathless.

Jigs lifted his head again, his blue eyes fiercer than I’d ever seen them. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know. I always could read you like a book, Abbie.”

“I—”

“I didn’t raise you to lie,” he said, cutting me off. His face was shadowed by pain—by anger . “Your mother did, not me. I raised you to be good, Abbie.”

My lips parted as a stared at him and slowly—carefully—I took a step back. “Please don’t talk about her,” I whispered, pleading with him to have mercy on me.

“When you left Hallow Ranch, you left a hole in everyone’s hearts. You need to understand that,” he kept at it, his voice firm.

“I know,” I breathed out. “I know I did.”

He stared at me for a few minutes, the world around us still continuing, the sun still shining, the birds still singing. “Why?” he demanded. “I need to know why, Abbie.”

I needed everyone at Hallow Ranch to have mercy on me even though I didn’t deserve it.

“Why what?” I shot back, leaning forward and bringing my hand up to my chest. “Why am I lying?”

The old cowboy shook his head. “No, Abbie. Why did you leave him?”

I stiffened.

His next question should have been a bullet. I would have preferred it, actually. “Why did you leave my Beau?” His words shot through me, and I could feel myself bleeding out.

Jigs was never supposed to ask me this.

He was never supposed to have the opportunity to ask me this.

I was never supposed to see the man again.

“Did he hurt you?” he pressed when I took another step back, shaking my head. He brought his hat to his chest. “Did he not treat you right, sweetheart?”

“Please, stop,” I rasped, my back hitting the porch column. My chest felt heavy and black marks clouded my vision. Suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“Tell me, Abbie,” he demanded. “Tell me why.”

“You—you told me I had nothing to apologize for,” I reminded him, gasping. Dizziness hit me then.

Jigs’ features softened, blinking away the anger. “History always repeats itself. Someway. Somehow.”

I stretched out my fingers, pressing them against my jeans, wiping away the sweat. “I’m not Amanda,” I told him, holding his eyes. Amanda Marks was selfish—cruel. She couldn’t handle the burden of motherhood and left her cowboy and son behind. She didn’t want this life.

I did.

“Every year, I go and see her,” he informed me. “Every fucking year, without fail.” He looked down to his boots, shaking his head. “Hell, that woman broke me to pieces, left me and our boy to go chase a life that got her killed.”

I flinched again. I didn’t know what kind of life Beau’s mother had found after leaving Hallow Ranch all those years ago, and frankly, I didn’t care. She, along with my own mother, could rot in hell for all I cared.

Jigs looked up, reading the expression on my face. “That woman had my heart the day I met her, had my heart the day she left, and she still has a tight grip on it even when she’s six feet under.”

“I’m not Amanda,” I repeated, my voice trembling.

“You left him,” Jigs murmured, ignoring me. “You left my boy, and I just…Sweetheart, I need to know if it was because of me.”

I was taken aback. “W-what? Because of you?”

All the anger in his eyes faded away, regret taking its place. “I know he’s stubborn. I know he has my anger. I know he was still dealing with so much pain from his childhood. I did the best I could with what I had. Was he not good to you, Abbie? I need to know what went wrong. For the last six years, I’ve been trying to wrap my brain around it—”

“—you did nothing wrong, Jigs!” I cried. “None of you did anything wrong!”

My outburst bounced off the porch, and I silently prayed the girls inside didn’t hear that. The old cowboy stared at me for some time, and as each second dragged on longer than the last, I could feel my heart rate pick up.

Something shifted in his eyes, the corners of them crinkling as he studied me. “Alright, sweetheart,” he muttered, stepping up to me. He pressed his lips to my forehead and told me he loved me.

Then, he was gone.