42. Audrey
AUDREY
It was scary how easily Ella slipped into life at the ranch. She spent all day Saturday wandering from the horse barn to Ridge’s workshop and over to Holden who was fitting new plywood on the floor of a horse trailer.
I offered to take her back to the cottage more than once, but the Bulls seemed nonplussed, even happy to have Ella around, and I ended up making sandwiches in the main house for lunch, which we ate outside on the back patio before everyone went back to work.
Holden grilled hamburgers and hotdogs for dinner, and Ella was happy and sleepy by the time Ridge drove us back to the cottage in a rugged all-terrain style golf cart.
We sailed over the firefly-strewn fields, Ella’s head on my shoulder, the soft rise and fall of her breath against my neck.
The evening breeze was a caress on my bare arms and legs, and Ridge’s thigh was inches from mine, a tease to the passion he’d awoken in my body while Graham and Holden had been at the cattle auction.
Still, the more startling thing of all was the deep sense of peace and safety that enveloped me as we pulled up to the cottage.
Ridge cut the engine and glanced at Ella, sound asleep. “Want some help carrying her inside?”
I considered it. It had been a long day in the sun running around after Ella, and I was feeling pretty tired myself.
But I had to be careful. Not let Ella get too attached.
Not let myself get too attached either.
“I got it,” I said, easing out of the golf cart. “But thank you.”
“Hey, wildcat?” he called after me when I was halfway to the door.
I turned around and my heart beat a little faster at the sight of his chiseled features, the way his green eyes seemed to glow just for me through the shadows.
“I missed you in my bed last night.” Heat rushed between my thighs. “And it was real nice having you and Ella around the ranch today.”
I smiled but didn’t dare respond. Didn’t dare let him know that I’d missed him too.
That it was real nice being part of the ranch for me too.
Inside, I pulled off Ella’s shoes and tucked her into bed — a bath could wait until tomorrow — then sat on the porch with a glass of wine, a ritual I was starting to enjoy and one that was far better for my state of mind than binging a favorite TV show.
Ella and I spent Sunday around the cottage. She asked to go see the animals — and Graham, Ridge, and Holden — but I managed to distract her with making cookies and repotting a couple of the plants I’d brought from the apartment, something I never seemed to have time to do in my pre-Hunt life.
We left the ranch early Monday morning for work and school, and for a while, the world of animals and hay and the smell of earth drying in the sun was replaced by antiseptic, air conditioning, and humans in all their complicated manifestations.
It was easier to put Ella off about the animals and the ranch on Monday and Tuesday night. By the time we got home from work and school, there was just enough time for dinner, a bath, and story time, and I dropped her off at school Wednesday morning with a long hug and a familiar feeling of regret.
That it had come to this — being apart, half of Ella’s life unknown to me — and that I hadn’t been able to do better for her.
I’d made a list of things I wanted to pick up from the apartment, so I stopped in on my way to work.
I thought about the warehouse in Harrison while I packed a small box with a few kitchen utensils, Ella’s favorite plate and bowl, some more summer clothes for us both, and the pillows from my bed (the pillows at the cottage were too soft for my liking).
The Bulls and I were planning to go to Harrison later that night to check out the warehouse. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I wanted to see it, this place where Dean had taken Ella, where she’d seen the woman in the blue dress next to the bluebird.
The woman who wasn’t allowed to talk.
I was in the bedroom, folding the box shut, already thinking about being back with the Bulls in the main house now that Dean had Ella, when I heard a thump from the living room.
I froze, then headed down the hall.
And there was Dean, walking into my apartment like he owned the place, a mean set to his jaw that was all too familiar.
I stopped moving, keeping as much distance between the two of us as I could without taking a step backward. “What are you doing here, Dean?”
“Talking to my wife.”
His voice was calm. Too calm.
He wore the chinos and polo shirt he always wore to work, a look that had started to appear smarmy to me during our divorce.
Even from across the room I caught the scent of his cologne, cloying and hyper-masculine, so unlike the smell of hay and fresh air that surrounded the Bulls after a day of working on the ranch.
“I’m not your wife anymore. And you can’t just walk into my apartment.”
He shrugged. “You didn’t want to talk with your new boyfriends— ”
“They’re not my boyfriends,” I said. “They’re my landlords for the summer.”
It was more or less true, if my body was the price of rent.
He shrugged. “You gave me no choice. You didn’t want to talk with them around, and we can’t talk at the hospital with all the nosy bitches you work with.”
“I’ve been trying to call you since last week.”
“What we have to talk about can’t be said on the phone, Audrey.”
“Fine.” I tried to keep my expression placid as I walked into the living room even though my heart was beating wildly in my chest.
I was alone in the apartment. Except for Dean, I was alone.
“There’s a big difference between the lake house I rented last summer and you and Ella living with three men,” Dean said.
“The lake house you rented last summer with… what was her name?” I looked at the ceiling like I might find the answer there. “Tara? Terry?”
“I wasn’t living there.”
“And Ella and I aren’t living with…” I fumbled for a descriptor. I couldn’t call Graham, Ridge, and Holden the Bulls with Dean, but I didn’t want to throw their names around either. “… them. We’re neighbors. Ella and I have our own place on the same property.”
“Still not okay,” he said. “You should have asked me.”
My face heated with anger. “I don’t have to “ask” you anymore, Dean. About anything.”
He advanced on me so fast I didn’t have time to run.
Didn’t have time to lock myself in another room like I’d learned to do at the end of our marriage.
I took a step back, instinctively trying to get away from him.
But it was no use.
He grabbed my neck and drove me back again the wall in the living room.
I managed to let out a shout of alarm before Dean started squeezing, his fingers digging into the still-sensitive bruises he’d left on my throat outside the donut shop.
This had become Dean’s favorite way to subdue me at the end of our marriage, the thing that had finally made me leave.
Because I knew the statistics: someone who suffered a non-fatal strangulation by their spouse was eight times more likely to be killed by that spouse later and nearly seven times more likely to be the victim of an attempted homicide by that spouse.
Almost half of all homicide-by-partner victims suffered non-fatal strangulations by their partner before their murder.
I thought of Ella, praying to whoever might listen.
Please don’t let this happen.
Please don’t take me from her this way.
Please don’t do this to her.
“You think you’re a big shot now?” Dean’s face, only an inch from my own, was twisted and ugly. “Where are those assholes now, Audrey? Huh?”
He’d barely gotten the words out when an expression of surprise passed over his features.
And all at once, the pressure disappeared from my throat.
I sank to the floor with a gasp and wondered how Dean had ended up on the floor across the room.
Then I saw Holden.
He usually looked like an overgrown puppy to me: hot, yes, but also young and perpetually happy.
Now he looked like a vengeful angel, his long hair escaping the ponytail he wore to work around the ranch, his face hard and wrathful.
He crouched in front of me. “You okay, doc?”
I managed a nod before he rose to his feet to turn toward Dean.
He stalked across the floor and lifted Dean by the front of his shirt, and I heard the tear of fabric as Holden slammed Dean against the wall so hard one of the framed paintings I’d gotten from the thrift store clattered to the floor.
“Listen to me and listen good, you piece of shit.” Holden’s voice was almost pleasant as he fished in his pocket for his lighter.
I heard the click and flare of it, knew he was holding the flame in front of Dean even though I couldn’t see it.
“She’s not alone anymore,” Holden told Dean. “Touch her again and I’ll torch you and everything you own. They won’t even be able to find your teeth. Maybe I’ll let Ridge go to work on you first, hand him a hammer and let him have some fun before I watch you burn.”
I remembered the story Ridge had told about how he’d ended up in prison, except instead of feeling a chill of fear, I felt a shiver of excitement.
Maybe this was what Dean needed: a reminder that there were bigger dogs than him in the yard, and improbably, three of them were now on my side.
On Ella’s side.
Holden hauled Dean to the open door of my apartment and tossed him into the hall. “Don’t let me see your face when I open this door, asshole.”
He slammed the door on Dean, then turned to face me.
His expression softened and he crossed the room to help me to my feet.
“Goddamn doc, you should have told us you were going someplace besides the hospital.” He smoothed my hair and his gaze combed my face. “I would have come with you.”
“How did you…” My voice came out in a croak. “How did you know he was here?”
“I was following you. Obviously.”
“Obviously?”
He scowled. “Well… yeah. You think we were going to have you running around alone with that dickhead on the loose?”
I didn’t have the heart or the will to call Holden on the fact that he’d been following me.
He may have saved my life.
“That dickhead is Ella’s father,” I said.
He snorted. “Unfortunately. Come on, doc. Let’s get you home.”
“I have work…”
“Not today, you don’t. I’m taking you home to rest.”
I considered arguing the point. I hated calling in sick, hadn’t done it in years knowing full well it meant the on-call doctor would be called in to take my shift.
But I was shaking, my mind buzzing with the aftereffects of Dean’s abuse.
I wouldn’t be good for patients this way.
So for once, I let someone else take charge. I let Holden get my packed box and my bag, let him lead me out of the apartment into my car where he followed me back to the ranch.
A place that already felt too much like home.