12. Sorrel
SORREL
Denton and I walk into everyone gathered around the table. They all have grim expressions on their faces, and my heart immediately starts racing.
“What’s going on?” I ask nervously.
“Sit down, Sorrel,” Dad says. “Denton, this is family matters. You can go ahead back to the guesthouse with the rest of your crew.”
“Just tell me what’s going on.”
Denton starts to turn around and our eyes meet. Something inside me wants him to stay. Whatever is going on is freaking me out. He must sense it because he stops and takes the seat next to mine.
Dad eyes Denton wearily. “Sutton, tell her.”
“We got another court order from the Kenzingtons. They’re coming after us, Sorrel.”
I slam my fist onto the table. “Fuckers.”
Denton already knows their son is a real piece of work. He’s about to learn the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
“When’s the court date?” Ryder asks next.
“Two weeks from today,” Sutton says, sliding the paperwork to me.
The Kenzingtons are wolves in sheep's clothing. They have more money than they know what to do with, and word around town has been that they’re trying to buy up as much land as they can throughout Montana. They know we would never sell. I guess that means they’ll try to steal it from us instead.
The court order states something about a boundary dispute.
“Fucking bullshit,” I say under my breath, tossing the paperwork back onto the table. It scatters in every direction. I can’t stomach looking at it anymore. “They’re trying to claim our ranch.”
Denton puts a reassuring hand on my knee under the table, then realizing he’s touching me, quickly pulls away. My head is spinning. I don’t even have time to register how his touch makes me feel.
“That would mean at some point they had someone out here to survey our land,” Dad says, scratching the back of his neck.
He’s just as confused as the rest of us. It makes no sense. How in the world could they claim our ranch? Huck must have put them up to this. That’s the only reason they would come after my family.
“We’re gonna fight this. There’s no way in hell it will stand,” Sutton says to the group.
Everyone agrees, and I know I have some work cut out for me.
Ryder stands up from the table. “Anyone want to let off some steam after today? Lucy is watching Trotter for us, and Sutton and I are gonna head to the Wagon Wheel for happy hour.”
I take my hat off, letting my braid loose, and run my fingers through my sweaty hair. “I’m in. I’ll give Charli a ring.”
“I’m sure the guys are all in too, they never turn down a happy hour,” Denton says.
The Wagon Wheel is dim and noisy, just the way I like it. I slide onto a worn stool next to Charli, the wood sticky beneath my palms. Ryder and Sutton are getting a round of drinks for everyone. Denton and his crew are at the pool tables, starting up a game.
The clink of glasses and low hum of country music barely register as I watch Denton, free and easy. Not even noticing that every girl in the bar is staring at him.
“God, Charli,” I mutter, “I’m about ready to lose my damn mind.”
Charli gives me a sideways glance, already sensing the storm behind my calm facade.
“What’s eating at you this time, Sorrel? You’ve been tight-lipped ever since that handsome country music star showed up at your ranch.”
I hesitate, then push the words out like a knife slicing through a thick wall. “It’s Denton. It’s Huck. It’s everything. I’m spiraling, Charli.”
Her eyes soften. “You like him, don’t you?”
She knows me better than anyone.
Denton is bent over the pool table, about to make his shot. His eyes lock on mine. A heat ignites low in my belly, and I chew on my bottom lip. Sutton brings our drinks over and takes the seat next to me, a grin playing at her lips.
When I look back at Denton, a girl with light brown hair has her hand on his shoulder while she whispers something in his ear. Her features are dark and alluring and everything about her screams sex appeal. Jealousy settles deep in my chest and I can’t look away.
Charli turns her gaze to them. “You going to do something about that, Saxxon?” she asks.
I grip the glass in my hand tighter and grind my teeth. I let out a deep breath. “No, he’s a single man. He can do what he wants.”
But then he shrugs her hand off his shoulder and her face turns into a look of disbelief. The corners of my mouth tilt up.
A screeching noise comes from the microphone on the stage that catches all of our attention. Randy, the owner of the bar, is on the stage fiddling with the microphone. He taps on it a few times and clears his throat.
“Well, folks, we have a special guest that so kindly offered to put on a show tonight. Everyone give Denton Reed a warm welcome to the stage.”
Denton looks stunned as a mullet. He gives me an accusatory look.
I put my hands up in innocence. “It wasn't me.”
Charli starts slinking away, her body melting under the table. Our heads whip in her direction.
“You!” we shout at the same time—catching her red-handed.
“Look, I might've made a call when Sorrel invited me to the bar tonight and told me y’all were comin’.”
Oh, Charli. It’s too late. Everyone in the bar is staring at Denton, and Johnny has already run up on the stage, strapping a guitar to his back.
Denton throws up his hands, accepting defeat. “Fuck it, live in the moment and all that. Right?”
Cool confidence washes over him as he takes center stage.
He definitely belongs up there with that mesmerizing smile he gives the crowd.
They begin to play, and every girl in the bar damn near falls to their knees—including me.
But out of everyone in the bar, his eyes only meet mine.
Not the pretty girl who probably asked to take him home tonight, but me.
My lips part, and I feel my blood pumping. I shoot back my whiskey and get to my feet, making my way to the back door. I need to cool off. Charli calls after me as I push my way through the swarm of people at the stage but I ignore her.
As I open the back door, cool night air slams into my face, and I let out a shaky exhale. I lean against the fence and close my eyes, just for a moment. I can’t have these feelings for Denton. It terrifies me. I can’t get hurt again; my heart can’t take another beating.
I sense a presence coming toward me, and my eyes shoot open. As my vision comes back into focus, the unmistakable, staggering figure of Huck fills the open space in front of me. His eyes are wild and glossy as he takes me in.
“Well, well, well… if it ain’t Sorrel Saxxon, hiding and running away like you always do.”
He’s close enough I can smell his rank breath that reeks of liquor. It repulses me, and I choke down a gag.
We’re outside alone, just the two of us; the noise dims around us.
My heart slams against my ribs, and all the color drains from my face.
I desperately look past him at the door to the bar—safety—but he blocks my path forcing me to stay put.
There’s nowhere to go and my back is up against the fence. He moves in closer.
“Huck, let me go. Now,” I say through clenched teeth.
The tendons in his neck pulse as he sneers at me. His face is so close that our noses are almost touching.
“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, Sorrel. You’re mine. When are you gonna get that through that pretty little head of yours? No one else can have you except me.”
Turning my face, I flinch. “I’ll never be yours,” I whisper.
His hands are reaching for me. But before he can grab me, a large hand grabs him by the shoulder, hauling him away.
“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Denton growls. Huck twists out of his grip, turning to face him.
“You again,” he says, baring his teeth.
They reach for each other and begin to struggle. Next thing I know, everyone in the bar is pouring out around us. Johnny jumps on Huck's back.
Luke, Huck’s friend, comes out of nowhere and is pulling Johnny off Huck. Charli swoops me away from the fight. Blows are thrown left and right. It’s an all-out brawl.
The bartender comes out carrying a wooden bat, slamming it on one of the outdoor tables. “Break it up now! I’m calling the cops,” she yells. Len is behind her moments later.
Everyone is running through the now open back gate, hopping into their pickups and taking off before more deputies arrive. Dragging Huck away, Luke saves his ass once again.
Denton limps over to where Charli and I are hiding.
A flash of bright truck lights aims toward us. The truck is driving straight at the open gate—engine revving. It turns at the last minute before they plow through the fence and us.
“This isn’t over!” Huck slurs, pointing a finger at Denton as they drive away.
“Okay, someone needs to get that guy in AA and anger management asap,” Johnny quips, like we weren’t all just about to get ran over.
“Fucking Kenzington, I’m calling him in before he kills someone,” Len says to the bartender as they turn and go back inside the bar.
I swallow my fear and stand, voice steady despite the pounding in my chest.
“You’re hurt. Let me help you,” I say to Denton.
He takes a step forward, favoring his left leg.
Charli’s hand is still tight in mine. “I’ll be okay,” I reassure her.
She nods, giving my hand a squeeze. “I’ll let Sutton know you’re heading home.”
I give her a nod before she turns and goes back inside the bar.
Throwing Denton’s arm over my shoulder, we hobble over to my truck.
“What about your crew?” I ask him.
“They can get a ride back with Sutton and Ryder.”
“Okay, I’ll drive—”
“No, ma’am, you drank. My right leg still works. I can drive.”
He’s right. I probably shouldn’t be driving.
We slide into the pickup in silence and Denton turns over the key, the engine roaring to life. A velvety blanket of darkness settles over the town. I've driven this road more times than I can count, but it never gets any less eerie at night.
When we approach the exit for the ranch, I tell him to go left instead of right. He doesn’t question me just does as I say.
“Park up here on the hill.”
He puts the truck in park. It’s too dark to see the gorge below, where if you kept driving, you’d plummet into nothingness. It would take weeks, probably, before anyone would ever find you.
“I like to come up here sometimes when I need to get away from it all. It overlooks a steep, rocky valley.”
I started coming here after everything that went down with Kenzington. I needed a place where I could be alone and be able to sit with my grief. It’s no less crushing now than it was then. It floods my chest like a flash flood—no warning just rushing water ready to swallow me up.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly.
I laugh, a short, ugly sound. “No. Not really.”
“When I saw him, towering over you—God, Sorrel, you looked so scared.” He swallows.
“I wasn’t going to let him hurt you again.
I saw him come into the bar and he watched you go out the back door.
I had to get to you. I don’t know what happened between you two, but I know it was something.
When you’re ready to tell me, if ever, I’m going to be here for you, Sorrel. ”
I feel something in me unfreeze a notch.
I’ve been holding it in for so long. The shame and guilt I’ve felt over the past year isn’t something I’m sure I’m ready to tackle yet.
But for some reason, Denton feels safe. I want him to know my hurt so he can understand why I’ve been so cold toward him.
That it isn’t him, but it’s something broken inside of me.