Chapter 12
TWELVE
Dawson picked up another hay bale and tossed it from the back of the truck onto the stacked pile in the barn.
Sweat beaded on his brow. He’d shed his jacket and sweater a while ago, the frigid air a welcome relief.
It’d been a full day since they’d left Sidewinders, but not even physical labor had improved his mood.
Every time he thought about Cade touching Peyton, rage rolled through him again.
It was an anger he had no right to. He knew that. Peyton had done her job and done it well.
But it was there all the same.
The barn door hinges creaked, and he sensed her before she spoke. Dawson stiffened. He bent down and hefted another hay bale out of the old work truck. Then her voice reached him, floating across the space. “Where are all the horses?”
“In the new barns.” His words were clipped. Cool as the wintry night. He chucked another bale.
“Is everything okay?” Peyton leaned casually against an empty stall. She looked beautiful and relaxed in a tracksuit, her hair tossed up into a casual ponytail. “You’ve been pretty quiet all day, since church this morning, and you ran out so fast after dinner that you missed dessert.”
“I didn’t want any.” He could barely force himself to sit at the table and choke down the meal.
Her brows arched in disbelief. “Peach cobbler is your favorite.”
Dawson didn’t answer. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t start an argument, so he chucked another hay bale from the truck. It landed in place, and then toppled from the spot, landing in a heap on the floor. He’d thrown it with too much force.
“I was hoping we could talk about Cade and what happened last night.”
“We already did.” She’d told him what they’d discussed during the dance, when he was out of earshot. Thinking of it again spiked his heart rate. He tossed the last bale from the truck and ripped off his work gloves. The exertion had left his body weary, but his mind was still unsettled.
“Yeah, but I’ve been thinking, and I have some theories.”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t talk about Cade. Not yet. “We’ll discuss it tomorrow.”
Peyton frowned. “Are you angry with me?”
He jumped from the truck. “I’m tired, and I want to get this work done.”
“Really? Cuz it seems like you’re mad at me.”
He was, but he also knew he couldn’t talk about this without losing his temper. And it wasn’t fair to Peyton. She was worried sick about Lilia, and while she was handling it well, he knew there was a breaking point. Dawson tossed his gloves through the open window of the truck.
Peyton threw up her hands in exasperation. “You always do this. You stew and grumble and avoid until I force you to face what you don’t want to say. It’s so frustrating! Just spit it out, Dawson. I don’t need you to protect me.”
“You don’t need me to…” He sputtered. “Were you there last night? You waltzed into a biker bar and deliberately provoked the most dangerous man in the room. You put yourself in danger, and for what? We’re no closer to figuring out where Lilia is.
The only thing we accomplished was putting you on Cade’s radar. ”
She planted her hands on her hips. “In case you haven’t noticed, I was already on his radar. Or did the bullets in your truck yesterday afternoon not send a big enough message?”
“Those might not have been from Cade. We know the Iron Serpents are involved in some way, but it’s not clear Cade is calling the shots.
It could be someone challenging him for leadership and taking advantage of the situation.
” Dawson felt his voice rise. “What I know is that you’ve been warned.
If you step wrong in this investigation, and Cade feels threatened, he will kill you. No questions asked.”
The very thought made him sick and fueled his temper. He was angry at her for putting herself in harm’s way, and more angry with himself for caring so much. “What are the chances I have of convincing you to step back and let us handle this investigation? None.”
Frustrated with himself for yelling, he turned away from her and braced his hands on the empty horse stall. He felt rather than heard her move closer, then a hand came to rest on his back. “Dawson.”
The softness in her voice urged him to speak the truth. “I hated it. Standing by and watching that criminal put his hands on you…I haven’t felt that helpless since…” His voice choked up.
“Since Samuel died,” she finished softly.
He shook his head, trying hard to dislodge the images crowding his mind. Her tear-stained cheeks, lying in bed in the dark day after day, shuffling around the house in a robe, her face gaunt and haunted. “I couldn’t protect you then either. I tried…God knows I tried.”
“So do I.” She ducked under his arm until they were face-to-face.
“What happened to me after Samuel died wasn’t your fault.
I was lost, Dawson. In more ways than one.
Nana Grace’s death crushed me, losing our child…
it felt like a punishment. Like God had turned his back on me.
My faith disappeared. I was angry and so heartbroken that I couldn’t see past my own grief. I felt alone.”
“You weren’t alone. I was there. Right there the whole time.”
“I couldn’t see that. I was angry with you for going back to work, for having dinners with your family. You found solace in church and with your friends. And…”
“And what?” His voice didn’t sound like his own. It was raw and barely above a whisper. “And what, Peyton? I didn’t love him? Didn’t feel the loss?”
“I didn’t say that—”
“But it’s what you meant.” He turned away from her, his body heat rising.
“I held it together. For you. Because you were shattered, and I couldn’t bear to add my grief to yours.
So I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other.
I went back to work so we could pay the bills.
I spent time with my family because it was the only place I felt I could breathe.
And I went to church to pray for strength, to be the man you needed in order to get through a loss no one should have to bear. ”
The words were coming fast now, tumbling over themselves as if a cork had been popped on his feelings and he could no longer keep them in.
“I thought once you were better, once you were past the worst of your grief, it would be my turn. That I could fall apart. Share my pain. But that never happened.” Dawson looked at her, the hurt and the betrayal pouring out of him.
“Because you left. I needed you. Needed my wife, and you…just left.”
Tears spilled over her cheeks. Peyton let them fall unabated. “I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t stick around long enough to find out.”
She stiffened and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “That’s not fair. You’re right, I shouldn’t have left, but you should’ve told me what you were feeling. You keep it all inside, Dawson, and never come to me. I’ve always had to nudge and urge and poke until you finally open up.”
He couldn’t believe this. “So it’s my fault you left?”
“No, I take responsibility for my part, but a marriage takes two. I was shattered, you’re right.
I didn’t have the emotional capacity to drag your feelings out of you the way I did before.
You hid your grief so well, Dawson. I knew you were hurting.
I knew you loved him. But…” She balled her hand into a fist and pounded her own chest. “I felt like someone had ripped out my heart. If I’d known you felt the same… ”
He had. He had felt the same. “It would have changed things?”
“We’ll never know.” Peyton lowered her hand. “And it does neither of us any good to play what if. You said it before at the hospital. We both made mistakes. And I’m sorry, Dawson. Truly sorry.”
He felt the anger seep from him. “I’m sorry too. I should’ve spoken up when Nana Grace died. You were hurting, and I thought that time and love would help you move past that grief, but then we lost Samuel, and it all fell apart.”
Suddenly, all the anguish he’d swallowed down came rushing up. His body shook as tears filled his eyes. He sank down to the bale of hay and buried his face in his hands.
Peyton’s arms encircled him. Soft. Tender. Loving. He reached for her, pulling her into his lap.
And sobbed. Cried for his son. For the life they should’ve had.
Dawson let it all out, in a way he’d never allowed himself to do.
When it was over, he was spent. Peyton slid from his lap to the hay bale and rested her cheek on his shoulder.
Her face was blotchy from crying too, her eyes swollen, but she held his hand in hers, not breaking the contact.
How long they stayed like that, Dawson couldn’t have said.
The silence was comforting, the sweet scent of the hay and the drift of nighttime sounds soothing.
His mind wandered. Through those days after Nana Grace died, after Samuel passed.
How he’d been scared and worried, but never said so out loud.
He’d tried to protect her. And in doing so, he may very well have pushed her further away.
Dawson didn’t want to make the same mistake again. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “I’m scared for you, Peyton. And for Grace. The Iron Serpents are dangerous, and whether or not Cade is behind this, we’ve kicked up a hornet's nest by challenging him.”
She sighed. “I know. You’re right. But it was also the only way to convince him to talk to us.” Peyton tilted her head to look up at him. “And you’re not the only one who’s worried and scared. Cade let you into the bar. He was playing with us. With you.”
“Okay, so where does that leave us? Worried and scared. What’s the point of talking about our feelings again?”
She laughed. Her smile was contagious, and he smiled too.
Peyton poked him in the stomach. “The point is so we both don’t feel alone in our worries. We have each other. And God.” She leaned against his shoulder again. “He’s watching over us, Dawson. And Lilia and Grace. Don’t forget that.”