20
CLINT
LETTING GO
Weary from a hard day’s work, me and Jesse drag ourselves in through the back door before discarding our boots, hats, and overshirts. Taylor is nowhere to be seen but Maverick is in the kitchen, eying a tray of goodies that are cooling on the counter. The aroma is delicate, but the impact is immense.
“The girls are upstairs,” Maverick says. “We brought some things from town to make Beth’s room feel more like Molly’s.”
“That’s good,” Jesse says.
Maverick grimaces, which makes me frown. “I took Taylor to Beth’s.”
Jesse pauses, squatting in front of the oven where he’s about to remove our dinner. “What?”
“It’s okay.” Maverick raises both his hands to emphasize. “She did good. Everything’s smoothed over.”
Jesse retrieves our plates, the garlicky aroma filling the room. “Taylor confronted Beth?” His eyebrows are so high that a deep furrow slashes his forehead.
“Yep. She’s some woman.” Peeling the paper from a muffin, Maverick breaks off a chunk and tosses it into his mouth. “She’s full of surprises.”
“She’s gradually getting out from under the shadow of her father,” I say. It’s clear to me because my own shadow is still long and dark. Maverick and Jesse have their own ghosts, too, but they’re smiling more and softening around the edges. Why isn’t it happening in the same way for me?
It was tough coming face to face with the man who had done so much damage to Taylor and her sister. I wanted to crush him like a roach and tear and scatter pieces from him so that he could never reform. Leaving the justice system to process his ass isn’t nearly so satisfying.
“How did you guys get on?” Maverick asks.
“They’re the best recruits we’ve had. They did the work of six men today.”
Jesse is absolutely right. My initial reservations about them, especially Brian, don’t seem founded so far. He had a bad start, but he shaped up quicker than the other two, and it’s one less thing to worry about. It’s hard not to see a little of myself in them.
I notice Maverick’s guitar leaning against the table and a scattering of plectrums. It has been a couple of years, at least, since he last played. Taylor inspires him in more ways than one, and I suppress a twinge of envy at yet another sign of my friends making headway. The pressure suddenly feels too much.
When we’re done with dinner and I can’t bear my t-shirt sticking to me any longer, I head upstairs for a hot shower and to change into fresh jeans and a clean shirt. I’m not quite done for the day.
Downstairs, I find Taylor cleaning up the kitchen and packing away the baked goods she had cooling. Dressed in a black tank and a pair of boy shorts, she makes me thirsty and hungry in a way no woman has before. But it’s more than that. I want to wrap my arms around her and just hold her in the safety of my embrace. Dangerous thoughts. “Hey,” she says when she sees me.
“Sadie’s ready,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen and her smile lights up her whole face. I swear she gets prettier with every day that passes. Good food and safety will do that to a person. “Are you serious?” She wipes her hands with a cloth. “Can I come with you?”
“Of course.”
As though she can’t wait a moment longer, she shoves her feet into her old sneakers and follows me outside. The air has a chill, but it’s bearable. Taylor sticks close to me, and against all my better judgment, I take her hand in mine, leading her through the darkness.
The barn is warm inside, and the straw-filled interior smells sweet and musky. Sadie’s resting, but her eyes are wide when she sees us. She scrambles to her feet but seems eager rather than scared.
“There you are,” Taylor says, reaching out a hand. Sadie lets her stroke her nose, making a funny huffing noise through her wide nostrils.
“It’s time to let you go,” I say, lifting the latch on the stall.
“You’ll see your babies,” Taylor says lightly.
I open the gate wide, and Sadie looks at the gap suspiciously. Taylor begins to walk towards the exit, encouraging Sadie to follow. It takes a minute for her to respond, taking tentative steps until she gathers confidence, then, with the prospect of freedom beckoning, she makes longer strides. In the doorway, Taylor pauses and lowers into a squat, watching Sadie get closer. “Come on, girl,” she says. “It’s time to run free. You’re all better now. You’re safe. Go find your babies.”
Sadie lowers her head, turning to find me waiting behind her. She lingers as though she wants to tell me something, her wide eyes searching mine, and then she huffs again and makes her escape.
When Taylor stands, she folds her arms across her chest and shakes her head. “That was a special moment.”
It really was. Every time I save a life and set it free, I feel a moment of freedom myself until the memories crawl back in.
“You did good, Clint.” Taylor moves closer, resting her hand on my arm. I look away because letting her see the war inside me is like ants crawling across my skin.
“We should go back.”
She follows me as I stride back to the house.
Even though I’m dog-tired, I can’t sleep. Sadie’s big eyes are in my head. The smell of tar, washer fluid, and oil is in my nose. Dread hangs like the blackest of storm clouds, ready to rain down on me.
When there’s a knock on my door, I sit quickly, smoothing down my comforter as Taylor peeks her head into the room.
“Can I come in?” she asks.
“Sure.” I’m wary of what might be behind this late-night visit but grateful for the distraction from my bleakness.
She lifts the corner of my comforter and slides in next to me. “Were you struggling to sleep, too?”
I shrug, not wanting to admit that I’ve got things churning through my mind. What kind of husband would I be if I couldn’t shelter my wife from darkness, even my own?
“Seeing Sadie run free was the best,” she says. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”
I shrug again, the tightness in my throat getting worse as though she’s pulling a noose with her sweetness. My breathing sounds ragged, and the beat of my heart echoes in my ears like the incessant tick of the grandfather clock.
Time stands still for no man, but I feel like I’ve been standing still for years.
Taylor reaches for my hand. “I know there’s something you’re not telling me,” she says. “I can feel it, like I could feel my own secret, burning at the edges of everything.”
I try to pull my hand away, but she grips it tighter. “If you’re going to be a husband to me, you need to be able to share difficult things, Clint.”
“You didn’t trust me to share your troubles until you were forced to,” I remind her.
“Well, now I’m forcing you.”
I swallow against the jagged rock behind my Adam’s apple.
“Taylor,” I warn. I need her to stop poking because telling her my shame won’t take it away. It’ll only make everything worse because she won’t ever look at me the same. Living in a cage of my own making is tough enough. Watching her put up walls around herself would end me.
“Please.” She leans in to rest her head against my shoulder and turns until her lips are pressed against my neck. “Please.”
“You don’t understand.” My voice is so gravelly she shouldn’t be able to make out the words, but she does.
“I understand that we all have a past, Clint. Would you care about me any less because of something that happened to me or something I did?”
“No.” It’s the truth. She could tell me anything, and I’d forgive her. What’s in her past isn’t my concern. The future is where my attention wants to be.
“And I feel the same, Clint. Why can’t you understand that?”
“This isn’t the same.”
“Because you can’t forgive yourself?”
Yes, I want to say. Yes, I’ve done something so bad that I should never be forgiven. But I can’t tell her the truth. I’ll lose her, but maybe that would be best.
How can I be the husband of someone who acts with so much integrity while I conceal the darkest secret like an imposter in my own life story? She’d be better off with just Jesse and Maverick. At least they can be honest with her. At least they have the moral fiber to be worthy of her.
“I can’t be your husband.” I swallow thickly. “I’m not the kind of man you deserve, Taylor. I should never have let Jesse involve me in this.”
“You don’t get to walk away from me, Clint,” she says, trailing her hand over my chest. I grab it tightly in my hand, needing her to stop touching me. My mind spins. My need for her to know me, to see me, to forgive me is an ache I can’t bear. The silence hangs between us in the thick night air. My bedroom window is open, but it’s still too hot. The only sound is the gentle fluttering of the drapes and my ragged breathing. “I can’t love you the way you deserve.”
“You already do,” she says.
“I’m not a good man,” I admit. “I’ve done something so bad—”
“Just tell me.” Her voice is a pleading whisper.
The darkness feels both protective and smothering. I know Taylor’s not going to let it go. She’ll keep pushing and pushing until she wears me down. She’ll keep believing I’m what she needs because she sees the best in people, even when they’re rotten to the core. “I killed someone, Taylor. I killed someone, and I can’t make it better. I can never make it better.”
She’s still as though the life has flooded out of her like in a tsunami wave, leaving emptiness behind. She doesn’t pull away, though. “Did you mean to, or was it an accident?”
“I didn’t mean to, but it was my fault.”
“So you made a mistake?”
“Saying it that way doesn’t make it better. I drove when I was too tired and killed a woman. Now I’m living my life, and she’s rotting in the ground, so why should I be happy, Taylor? Why should I get to fall in love and be happy when she never will.”
Her hand cups my cheek, and my neck grows damp. When I twist to look down at her, she’s crying. “Don’t cry for me, Taylor. I sure as hell don’t deserve anyone’s tears.”
“When did it happen?”
I sigh, not wanting to go into more details but knowing she’ll keep prodding and prying until I do. I’ve come too far now to withhold anything. “Fifteen years ago.”
“And did you serve time?”
“Yes, but it wasn’t enough.”
“It’d never be enough,” she says. Even though it’s true, I still feel she knocked the wind out of me.
“No.”
“Because you can’t forgive yourself?”
“Yes.”
“It was a mistake. Do you know how many mistakes I’ve made, Clint? So many. And so many of them could have ended badly for me or someone else. I left Molly behind, and my dad could have really hurt her. Every day, we tread a tightrope through life, just hoping to come out the other side without anything bad happening. I’ve been through so much but holding the pain and hurt and shame inside me won’t help me. It won’t help anyone. I have to let it go.”
“Those things weren’t your fault, though. This is different.”
“You have a choice, Clint. You can walk through the rest of your life under the shadow of what happened, or you can try to thrive and make the most of the time you have. What’s a better choice?”
I swallow, staring into the corner of the room, fighting against the flicker of hope that Taylor inspires.
“You’ve been so good to me and Molly. Every day, you make a difference to your friends, this ranch, the men who come here seeking a new life, and the animals you rescue. You’re not a bad man, Clint. You’re a good man who made a mistake, and something bad happened as a result. You have to let it go, for my sake, Jesse’s sake, and Maverick’s sake, but most of all, for your sake.”
“I fell asleep at the wheel,” I whisper. “And I killed her. I saw her face, Taylor. I watched her die, and I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t even pray.” I haven’t said the words out loud to anyone. They sound like they’re being spoken by someone else. After it happened, my parents didn’t even want to be in the same room as me. I locked everything away until now.
Taylor’s hand tenses against my chest.
“It’s how I came to be here on the ranch. I came here as one of Mitch’s juvenile workers, hoping to earn myself a way out of the pen, and I never left.” Silently, Taylor reaches up her hand and gently cups one side of my face. She slides her fingers softly over the rough surface of my unshaven chin, and each sensation feels like a feather of comfort and a stab in the heart at what I stand to lose.
“Jesse saw what kind of man you are, Clint. He wanted you to be his friend. And Maverick, too.”
I let out a breath that aches as it leaves.
“Can I kiss you?” she asks me so innocently. The unexpected words threaten to shake me off balance.
“Why?”
“Because you’re my husband, and I think you need it.”
I cup her face in between my hands and really look at the woman who deserves the world and has somehow ended up shackled to me. “I’m never going to deserve you, Taylor. I’m never going to be good enough for you.”
She clasps her hands over mine. “Don’t you think that’s up to me to decide?”
Lowering my face to hers, our lips brush, and a bolt of connection races through me so intensely that my hands shake. The wet heat of Taylor’s tears burns against my skin, and I brush one away with my thumb.
“I’m so sorry, Taylor. I’m so sorry.”
Her hot breath mingles with mine, and we breathe each other in for a few precious moments, neither of us wanting to break free.
“You’ve punished yourself enough, Clint. The time for regrets is over. You have to focus on living now. You deserve to because you make the world a better place. I’m proud to be your wife.”
I stare at her, unbelieving. The first moment I saw her sitting on that auction platform, frightened and alone, rushes through my mind. I didn’t understand Jesse’s actions or his choice, but I wanted her. I wanted to make her smile and take away the sadness in her eyes. If I can be a good man for Taylor and give Molly the stability she’s never had, could it be enough?
“I may never deserve you, Taylor, but I want to. I want to try to be the man you need.”
“You already are,” she whispers.
We kiss again, deeper this time. Her hands glide over my chest and arms, seeking out my strength and building my desire. I can’t believe I get to have this woman even for one night, let alone until death do us part. For most of my life, I’ve felt far from any kind of spirituality, but Taylor makes me want to believe in a higher power. Something brought her into our lives. Something connected us at a point when we all needed healing and redemption.
I never thought any woman would want me after I admitted my deepest regret and shame, but Taylor sees past it… and she makes me want to live every day with gratitude.
She lays back and pulls me over her, hips seeking friction, hands mapping and searching, lips claiming. I need to be inside her so badly.
I practically glide into her slickness, and she squeezes me, moaning with pleasure. We remain eye to eye, searching each other’s expression and sinking deeper into the magic of the moment of release and redemption. This is different from any other sex I’ve ever had, and I never want it to end, but when we tumble over the edge together, and she clings to me, whispering words of love, I finally succumb to the hope of a future I never believed I deserved.