Chapter Five
Once I get a burn covering on my hand, I exit the bathroom, any evidence of my breakdown long gone thanks to the stash of makeup I keep in the drawer down here for that very reason.
The mascara tracks have been erased, my eyeliner touched up.
You’d only notice I’d been crying if you were to look into my eyes.
Cold water only does so much to get rid of the puffiness and the redness, but it isn’t a miracle cure.
“Let me just get dinner all fixed up,” I offer a smile to Cal and Silas, who have moved from the kitchen and into the living room, but the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Silas has a face like thunder, stormy, enraged, and the grip he has on his glass looks tight enough to break it.
Cal doesn’t seem much better, and his cold eyes glare at me as I disappear back into the kitchen.
I shouldn’t have let Silas get that close, Cal doesn’t like it when other men are near me, I’m not even allowed to speak with any of the guys he has employed here and since there are no women, I’m all alone unless I’m with Cal.
It’s strategic on his part, of course, but it took me almost a year to figure that out.
The isolation was how it all started to begin with.
I suppose it was easy for him; I had no family anymore, both my parents are dead and I have no siblings.
I think there’s an aunt somewhere, but I haven’t spoken to her since I was a child.
Any friends I did have when I met Cal stopped trying with me when I kept bailing on plans.
I wince at the mess in the sink, but I can handle that later. Pulling out another pot, I cut up some fresh vegetables and get them on to cook, and then carve up the chicken, placing it on a serving tray before I dish up the rest.
“I’m just serving,” I call through to the living room. “Why don’t you get seated?”
Maybe if I pretend all is normal, and well, it will be.
I hear them head through but catch Silas’s eye as he walks by. Those whiskey eyes drag down me, softening a touch, but he doesn’t stay.
That’s for the best. Acknowledging him from now on will only enrage Cal further, and truly, I just want a quiet life. A peaceful life.
I am in a constant state of fight or flight, my nervous system shot and my anxiety in full control.
I just want peace.
A new burn starts up behind my eyes, but I shove that down.
I did not just fix my face for it to get messed up again minutes later.
Plastering on a smile, I start to carry through the serving trays, placing them in the middle of the dining table.
It’s so silent in the room you could hear a pin drop, and Silas still has that death grip on his glass while he stares toward Calvin.
I wonder if he’s picturing his neck instead of the glass; God knows I’ve done that a time or two.
Retrieving the last of the food from the kitchen, I join the guys in the dining room, pulling out a chair next to Cal.
“No,” Cal snaps and lifts his knife, pointing the tip toward the chair beside Silas. “Sit there.”
My shoulders drop and I pick up my plate, moving down the table.
Silas’s eyes narrow, but whatever bait Cal is trying to put down, Silas isn’t biting. Instead, his glare turns to a cold grin, and slowly, he rises to his full height, getting to my chair before I can. He pulls it out for me and then takes my plate, arranging it on the table.
“Here,” he gestures to the chair softly.
“Thank you,” I whisper, lowering.
Cal starts to angrily serve himself food, taking most of it to pile onto his plate. It’s a power play on his part. He leaves just enough for one more serving, meaning either me or Silas will have to go without.
Silas watches it all wordlessly, spinning his water glass around and around.
“Help yourself,” Cal smiles, seeming at ease, but I’ve read this man like a book. I know his tells, when he’s about to crack, and he’s one tap away from completely losing it.
All because Silas was helping me with a burn.
Silas stands and begins to dish up the rest of the food, scooping every last crumb from the dishes in the middle of the table, but then he shocks me breathless.
He picks up my empty plate and puts it in front of his seat before he places the full plate in front of me.
Cal practically vibrates in his chair at the head of the table.
“It’s okay,” I tell Silas, “Really. I’m not hungry.”
It didn’t matter that I hadn’t eaten all day and if I didn’t eat now, I wouldn’t eat at all, but I couldn’t let him go without either.
“Eat,” he tells me gently, “Please.”
He holds my eyes, urging me silently to go ahead. Sighing, I pick up my fork and dig in, chewing and swallowing awkwardly in the silence that follows. Silas doesn’t move an inch other than to swirl his glass around still.
I can tell the moment it gets too much for Cal. A quick glance in his direction shows him fidgeting, something he only does when he is uncomfortable, and I have to wonder if he may be a little afraid of Silas.
It shouldn’t give me as much satisfaction as it does, but I can’t deny the way my stomach flips in that giddy way, the one where it makes you want to laugh out loud because you’re not sure what else to do.
“Tell me about the Appaloosa,” Cal demands, picking up his beer to take a swig.
“Dottie,” Silas corrects. “Her name is Dottie.”
Cal’s face scrunches up, “You’re here to train my horse, not name it.”
“And how do you suppose I train her?” Silas asks, “Names are given for more than bonding purposes. It’s a consistent word that she’ll grow to recognize more than any other word she’ll ever learn.”
Cal’s eyes roll hard. “Fine, what do you propose for Dottie?”
“For now, we are working on trust. She’s an anxious horse; likely it’s because she has had little interaction with people away from her mother, and you brought her here and threw her in the deep end, which did more damage.”
Cal scoffs, “All my horses are in perfect health. It’s just that one.”
Silas gives him an incredulous look but doesn’t bite.
Cal has never hurt any of the horses on this ranch, but he also doesn’t have their best interests at heart.
If they can’t make him money, they get sold; it doesn’t matter to whom.
They are fed and groomed and have their space, but that’s the bare minimum provided to them.
I try to make connections with them all, give them a person they can trust and mostly it’s worked but Cal’s become stricter on how often I am allowed out in the stables which means I haven’t spent as much time as I’d like with them.
The Appaloosa is new here, barely even a few months, but I knew she was going to cause him trouble.
I thought he’d just sell her, but then he hired Silas to train her, and that has a lot to do with her breed, the coloring, and the fact that people are already talking about her.
He sees the dollar signs she can bring him.
“I will get her to where she needs to be, but it takes time.”
“You said two weeks,” Cal’s jaw twitches.
“For the basics. Which is fine; I can give you a step-by-step guide on how to keep up her training.”
“They said you were the best,” Cal sneers, “Or is this just one big con?”
“Cal,” I try, but the look he swings my way has my mouth snapping shut.
Something bumps against my foot from beneath the table, and a glance down shows Silas’s booted foot pressed up to mine, a subtle touch of comfort.
“You can believe what you want, Calvin. There is a reason I am the best at what I do, I have years of experience under my belt. By all means, if you want to do it yourself, I will leave.”
My teeth press together hard enough that pain radiates through my jaw.
It’s best if I just avoid him. His time here is temporary, and I have a feeling the more I spend time with him, the harder my life will become.
I have to protect myself even if standing just a little in his orbit gives me a sense of peace I haven’t felt in years, which is crazy in its own right.
I have had a handful of exchanges with this man, and yet there is something inherently safe about him.
Maybe I’m just delusional, latching on to the first person who has shown me an ounce of kindness.
They discuss Dottie for another hour, leaving me to escape and clean up, but the moment I hear the door close behind Silas sometime later, I know I’m about to pay for everything that happened earlier.
I hear Cal before I see him, and I steel myself, preparing for the worst but hoping for the best.