Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
BITTERN
She’s gone for three days. I spend it working my ass off in an attempt to keep my mind quiet.
On the third day, Ed brings a handful of wranglers up to the rocky cave area that used to separate Ryder Ranch from Aiden’s farm.
It sustained some damage from the fire and bringing in trucks to clear all the debris.
This week, we’re hauling brush out and filling in some holes to hold back the erosion of the cliff face.
It sounds like a good thing to keep me busy, so I volunteer to go with them.
I take Starling, riding her at an easy trot up the hill. She’s a good horse, solid and dependable. I think she’s taken a liking to me, she’s always running the fence line when I’m out in the field, trying to get to wherever I’m at.
We tie the horses and get our gloves on.
It’s slow, hot work, pulling back branches and vines that have already overtaken the rocks.
Ed thinks we’re gonna need to put up some support wire to keep the rocks from coming down.
I reckon we should talk to Deacon. He might want us to just blow it and let the rocks settle.
“Knowing Deacon, he’ll want to blow it up,” Ed says.
I yank back a thick bundle of sticks and vine, and Ed grabs my shoulder, jerking me back as the whole damn thing comes slithering down. It falls in a heap, throwing up a cloud of dust. We both spit, wiping our eyes. The dust settles, and my stomach does a flip-flop motion like a fish out of water.
On the cliff face is a cave-like tunnel leading to nowhere but darkness.
My body tingles. I can smell it—underground. Cold. Dry and damp all at once.
My stomach starts churning. A hot tingle moves up my spine. Around me, I can hear the wranglers moving in to investigate. They step into the front area, talking, laughing. Their bodies blur, jerking like stop-motion. I’m in the middle of it, frozen to the ground with my heart pumping in my throat.
“You good?”
I’m trying to answer. Ed’s face swims in my vision.
“Hey, man, you good?” he asks. “You’re fucking white as a sheet.”
From somewhere behind, I hear faint hoofbeats thundering up the hill.
I can’t move, can’t speak. I’m just standing there like I’ve been turned to stone.
But I can see in my periphery as Deacon appears, pulling Bones, his horse, to a halt and swinging down.
He’s talking, laughing with one of the wranglers.
Then, he looks over and sees Ed and me, and he sobers, eyes narrowing.
It takes a second for him to come up the little incline and stop beside me.
“You boys good?” he asks.
“Don’t know,” Ed says, swinging his gaze on me.
I don’t move. Deacon’s eyes flick over me then turn to the mouth of the cave. He clears his throat.
“Need you down at the barn, Bittern,” he says. “Go on. Get your horse.”
My body unlocks. Somewhere behind, I hear them talking, and I feel like a fucking failure for not being able to hold it together. Then, Deacon’s striding along beside me, heading for the horses.
“It’s all good,” he says.
“Sorry,” I say. “I thought I was good. Not sure I am.”
We mount up, turning the horses toward the ranch. “I’ve been where you just were, and that doesn’t always go away. But you’re good.”
We’re both quiet.
“Don’t tell Freya,” I say. “I don’t want her worrying.”
“I won’t,” he says. “I’m gonna have Ed blow the cave in. It ain’t big. Shouldn’t be a problem for that part of the land.”
I jerk my head in a nod. It’s another one of those times when I see exactly why Freya married Deacon, despite his rough outer shell. He’s a good guy, and I appreciate him not airing out my business in front of everyone.
We’re both quiet the rest of the way down the hill. At the barn door, Deacon stops and stacks his fists on his saddle horn. The corner of his mouth jerks up.
“Reckon your girl came back,” he says.
My whole body tingles, in the best way possible.
Glancing up, my eyes skim down the employee housing and over the main yard until they come to a halt on two figures sitting on the porch.
Freya has Slate in her arms, and on her other side is my girl, looking like a million bucks in the same sundress she wore on our first date.
I slide off Starling, and Deacon takes the reins. Janie’s up and running down the porch, and we meet halfway down the driveway. Her arms go around my neck, and I bury my face in her hair and inhale.
Something about seeing underground again makes me want to hold her tight.
“I missed you,” she whispers.
“Miss you too,” I say.
Goddamn, I do, more than I’ve got any right to, considering we’re not anything yet.
Deacon puts the horses away, and we all go inside.
It’s the middle of the afternoon, but nobody says anything about getting back to work.
Freya and Janie get to talking while they make coffee.
Deacon stands in the doorway, holding his son, swaying lightly.
I’ve got a feeling it won’t be that much longer before they have another one.
Deacon’s the kind of guy who wants an army of little hellions running around.
Hell, to each his own. He’s got the space, the money, and Freya loves kids.
Me, I’ll keep it moderate. A couple would do for me, maybe a boy and a girl to sit on the porch steps while I carve their little toys. That sounds pretty good, real simple.
My eyes drift to Janie, wondering what she wants. It feels too early to be talking about getting married and having kids, but God, I don’t want to hold back.
“What were you two doing, riding down from the pastures in the middle of the day?” Freya asks.
I sink down at the table. Deacon doesn’t say anything.
“We were clearing brush,” I say. “Had to get something from the barn.”
“Do you need to get back out?” Janie asks, sinking down beside me.
“Nah, not in a hurry,” says Deacon.
“What are you doing back?” I ask.
She smiles. “I quit my job.”
I don’t know what to say, but there’s a burning glow in my chest. Slate starts gurgling, and Deacon steps into the hall, bouncing him with light, practiced steps.
Janie says something to Freya about being kind of hungry, and they both go down to the cellar to look at what food they have on hand.
Deacon and I stay in the kitchen for a while, keeping the baby to give Freya a break.
It’s quiet, most of the wranglers at work.
Deacon passes his son to me, and I sink down at the table.
Janie comes back up, some cans of preserves under her arms. Freya comes after and ducks into the pantry to look for bread.
It occurs to me as I’m sitting there, hoping Slate doesn’t spit up down my back, that this is what family is. It’s not cowering and walking on eggshells. It’s not being shamed or put down. It’s comfortable silence, no expectations, just giving of our time freely because we get along.
Freya makes coffee, and Deacon helps butter bread.
Then, we sit around the table and talk for a while.
It gets to be dinner, but nobody moves. Slate falls asleep in my arms, so I sit propped against the wall and let him snooze.
Freya and Janie chatter away over more coffee, then some tea when it gets too late.
After a while, Deacon stands, cracking his neck.
“Alright,” he says. “I need to at least get the horses in.”
Gently, I pass Slate over to Freya and get up. “Alright, I’ll come help.”
“Nah,” says Deacon, jerking his head. “You go on, take your girl back home.”
Janie blushes, but she doesn’t protest. We hang around for a bit longer, talking about tomorrow.
Then, we head out, parting ways with Deacon by the barn.
I shake his hand, which I don’t usually do, and I think he gets it.
I’m suddenly very aware of all the little things that got me to this moment.
If Deacon hadn’t gone after Freya, she’d never have made her way to Ryder Ranch.
If he hadn’t stepped in and saved her, I’d be dead on the cold hill.
If I hadn’t woken up in the hospital, with him hovering over me, telling me if I didn’t get clean, he’d put a bullet between my eyes, I wouldn’t have met Janie.
“Thanks,” I say gruffly.
“Yep,” he says.
He disappears into the barn. I walk with Janie, our fingers intertwined.
We’re both quiet, content. I ask if she’s seen her parents yet, and she says she went there first to drop off her bags.
She made her rounds while I was away in the fields.
My grip goes tighter when she says that, knowing I get her to myself tonight.
I’ve never been the selfish type, but with her, I am.