Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Lorcan
Isat in my truck during my lunch break and stared at the phone number I’d scribbled on a scrap of paper this morning. Healing Horses Ranch.
The entire drive home last night, I’d thought about what Cody had said. So much in that short conversation.
I couldn’t believe how open I’d been with him. About my concerns. About my na?veté. About my lack of experience. How I’d been with Stephen for all those years and yet had never known him at all.
Sighing, I fingered the paper. I hadn’t told Cody about the arrest or all that came after.
I’d asked him not to search me on the internet.
Which was kind of a dumb request. If he planned to invite me into his home, he should at least know what I’d been accused of.
I hadn’t killed my ex-husband and disposed of the body—but the cops hadn’t charged that only because they couldn’t come up with the evidence.
Not because they believed I was innocent.
Taking a deep breath, I swiped until I came to my contacts. I selected Cody’s name and tapped out a message.
—Hope you got home safe. Go ahead and google me. If you still want to meet, a walk in the park sounds great. —
Then, before I lost my nerve, I dialed the ranch.
After three rings, someone answered. A little breathlessly, she said, “Healing Horses Ranch, this is Rainbow. How may I help you?”
For just an instant, I froze.
“Are you okay?” She asked the question quietly—almost like she sat next to me in the cab of my truck.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I’m okay. My name is Lorcan. Uh, I spoke to Cody yesterday.” Please don’t ask the circumstances. I’d prepared a vague answer.
“He’s a great guy. Do you want to speak to him? He’s in with a patient, but I can take a—”
“No.” I winced as that came out a little more forcefully than I planned.
“I, uh…he suggested I might try to see a counselor.” I closed my eyes.
“But I don’t have a lot of money. I mean, I will soon.
And my boss said my benefits kick in next week.
The brochure said some psychological counseling was covered.
But I don’t know—” I sort of ran out of steam.
“Okay, Lorcan. We operate on a sliding scale, so let’s not worry about money right now, okay? We can take care of you. Is there a particular counselor you’d like to see?”
“I’m gay.” Great, just blurt that out.
“That’s perfectly fine. All our counselors are LGBTQ friendly. Justin Powers is gay—”
“Yes. Cody, uh, mentioned him.” I wracked my brain, but nothing else came.
“Justin’s a great guy. Let me check his schedule.” She tapped on some kind of keyboard. “Okay, he’s got an opening Tuesday night. He had another patient scheduled, but they had to move to earlier in the day. Does five-thirty work?”
“I get off work at five. Near you guys. I don’t have enough time to go home and shower.”
She laughed softly. “We’re a working ranch with horses and therapy dogs. We’re quite accustomed to dirt and mess.”
“And sweat?” I resisted the urge to smell my pits.
“Absolutely. Justin’s a really easygoing guy. He’s seen a number of clients who weren’t able to shower before their session. Don’t get tripped up over that, okay?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Do you have an email? We have an intake form—”
“I don’t have a computer. I guess—” Again, I wracked my brain. “I suppose I could go to the library.”
“These forms are confidential. You can fill them out when you arrive.”
“But it would be better if I did ahead of time.”
“There is no better—”
“Would Cody have copies?”
“I can certainly give them to him.”
“And he could give them to Justin?”
“If you like. I can give him an envelope so he doesn’t have to see your form.”
“Yeah.” I let out a breath. “I mean, I might not even see him…” Like if he googles me and decides I’m not worth the risk.
“That’s fair. I’ll print out a copy and give it to him with an envelope.
If you see him and you’re comfortable filling out the form, then you can.
If it doesn’t work out, we’ll get you one on Tuesday night before you see Justin.
It’s all good, Lorcan. Perhaps you might give me your email anyway?
And your phone number? In case I need to reach you. ”
“Uh, yeah. Okay.” I provided her with both. “Oh crap. I have to go back to work.”
She laughed. “You go. We’ve got you.”
“Okay. Bye.” I cut the call. Damn. Too abrupt.
Except she sounded really sweet—like she would understand.
I exited my truck and headed back to the house I was working on. I’d finished the drywall in the primary bedroom today and was tackling one of four other bedrooms.
Five bedrooms.
This place felt…beyond luxurious. Almost ostentatious.
A word I really liked. Because I could compartmentalize.
Other people lived ostentatious lives. I’d lived a pretty simple one.
We’d had a nice house on a nice street in a nice neighborhood in a nice small town.
Hell, the mortgage had even been paid off.
I’d been forced to sell it—along with just about everything I owned. And that was just to pay the back taxes to the government.
The taxes my ex had told me were being remitted but hadn’t been. More money he’d siphoned off to do God knew what with.
“Hey, Lorcan.” Riley made her way over to me.
The day was overcast, but not raining.
Yet.
“Uh, yeah. Everything okay?”
She grinned. She had the loveliest smile. Her pale-green eyes shone and her black hair was in a thick braid down her back. Like the rest of us, she wore a hard hat. Like the rest of us, she worked her ass off. Her being a nice person made me want to do my very best work.
“Everything’s fine. You’re doing a great job. I’m so glad you were available to join the crew. Look, we’re heading over to the Springs after work. I can only stay for a bit—my pooch Samson hasn’t seen much of me this week, and he’s disgruntled.”
“I didn’t realize you had a dog.”
“Some kind of terrier mix. He’s adorable but also grumpy if he spends too much time at doggy daycare. He’s into people—not other dogs. So being surrounded by a bunch of yappy little shits isn’t his idea of fun.”
“Oh.” Because, really, what was I supposed to say?
She grinned. “I didn’t mean to imply the other dogs are anything less than wonderful. His view of other dogs is definitely jaundiced.”
“Ah.” Again, I wasn’t clear what the correct response was. “So, the Springs?”
“Yeah. You’ve had a good first week. A drink with us would be a nice treat, right? I mean, some of us don’t drink alcohol, but they’ve got some cute mocktails. Or low-alcohol beer.”
“I won’t get drunk.” Because I felt like that was important to put on the table.
“I didn’t think you would. Anyway, it’s your call. You’re welcome. Now, shall we get back to work?”
“Yeah. Uh, thank you. For all of it.”
She nudged my elbow gently with hers.
The contact surprised me.
“Sorry, I didn’t ask if that was okay.” She pulled away.
“It’s fine. I just…it’s fine.” No one had touched me—except for handshakes—since Stephen left.
And Cody last night.
“Still. Usually I clap my guys on the back. You just—”
I cocked my head.
“You don’t feel as rough and tumble as some of the other guys on the crew. Or hell, some of the women. I don’t mean it in a negative way. You’re just—” She examined me. “—soulful. In a good way. I suspect you’re a deep thinker.”
“Well, you’d be wrong about that. But I don’t mind a clap on the back if I’ve done a good job.” With a quick nod, I headed back into the house.
I passed Aimee who was doing the wiring. I liked that almost half of Riley’s crew were women. The gender parity worked, and I didn’t have to deal with rampant sexism or, so far, any homophobia.
No one had said anything about the trial or my troubles either, so that was another win.
By quitting time, I’d finished the upstairs. Still tons to do, but I had a sense of accomplishment.
As I headed for the door, Aimee waved. “Are you coming to the Springs?”
In that moment, I made the decision to try living again. I offered a shy smile. “Riley invited me.”
“It’s a Friday-night thing. Should be pretty busy since it’s the Santa parade tonight.”
“Oh?” I ran through everything in my mind, but that hadn’t stuck. “I live on Second Avenue.”
“You should be okay. You’ve got a parking spot with your apartment, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, Second will be jammed with parked cars, but you’ll be fine. You’ll have to go the long way to go home, though, since Railway and First Avenue are both closed.”
“Right. I’ve never, uh…”
“I’ve got two kids. Teenagers now, thank God. No more bundling up and watching the parade. That said, teenagers are an entire heap of trouble in other ways.”
She didn’t look old enough to have teens at home, but I didn’t comment. “So, Springs?”
“Yep.” She grinned as she headed to her van parked on the road just behind my pickup.
We drove away at the same time, and I followed her back into downtown Mission City.
The brew pub was a little too close to the cop shop for my peace of mind, but I’d been found not guilty.
Not exonerated, though. The difference niggled.
If they’d convicted Stephen—even if they’d just found the money—then my name would’ve been cleared.
With my ex in the wind, though, everyone I used to know still gave me a wide berth.
I couldn’t be certain if Riley had given her crew the heads-up.
But no one had looked at me sideways or been anything but incredibly welcoming.
We nabbed parking spots at the back of the lot and walked amiably to the pub.
“There’s a table at the back. Stella quits early to grab it for us.”
“That’s nice of her.”
Aimee laughed. “Tough job. Elbowing other patrons who might try to horn in on our territory.” She waved.
Stella waved back.
The two women were contradictions. Aimee, the electrician, was tall, sturdy, and had heft. She hauled things around with ease.
In contrast, Stella was petite and delicate. She did much of the tile work and was a demon with the miter saw. She also had wispy blonde hair while Aimee’s riot of curls was a dark-brown mass of chaos.
“Look who I brought.” Aimee linked arms with me.
Stella grinned and patted the chair next to her.
Obediently, I sat.
Aimee took a chair across. She glanced at Stella. “How are you doing?”
Stella stuck out her bottom lip. “Glad the bitch is gone. Sad that I’m going to be alone at Christmas?”
“She didn’t deserve you.” Aimee passed me a menu from the pile. “Stella’s ex-girlfriend is a horrible person.”
“Hey.” Stella glared.
Aimee glared right back. “Isn’t she?”
“Well, yes. But only I should be saying that.” She grabbed a menu but didn’t open it.
“I’m just calling it like I see it. I tried to warn—”
“Do not say I told you so.”
“—you, but you wouldn’t listen.” Aimee smirked. “I told you so.”
“Ouch.” I winced.
Stella nudged me with her elbow. “Watch out—Aimee’s eerily competent at calling relationships. She’s also matched two people on the crew. If you aren’t looking for someone, steer clear. Oh, unless you’re already involved.”
“My ex is…in the rearview mirror.”
Aimee’s light-brown eyes narrowed. “Do you need me to put a curse on him?”
“Excuse me?” My eyes widened.
Stella laughed. “She likes to think she can curse people. So don’t piss her off, either.”
I had no idea how to respond to that.
“But she means well.” Stella met my gaze with soft-blue eyes.
“Turns out he wasn’t a nice man.”
“Oh, then totally let Aimee put a hex on his dark soul. Now, are you drinking alcohol or not? They have this amazing nonalcoholic apple cider. This farmer in the valley makes it. So delicious. I always stock up at the Christmas market. What’s his name? Hey, Aimee, what’s the apple farmer’s name?”
“Johnson. His husband’s name is…” She snapped her fingers.
“Henry. Great couple.” She turned her attention to me.
“If you haven’t tried the cider, you absolutely have to.
” She cocked her head. “And if you know anyone who might want a glass fairy figurine, Henry makes them and sells them at the Christmas market.” She yanked her phone from her back pocket.
She tapped and scrolled and then handed the phone to me.
The most stunning glass figurine was featured. The delicate and intricate work was amazing. “Are these the trans colors?” I handed her the phone back.
She nodded. “His LBGTQ ones are the most popular by far. But he makes all kinds—including ones that are more suitable for boys. I mean, gender crap aside. Oh, here comes Thor.”
Automatically, I turned—expecting a tall blond with flowing locks of hair and stunning eyes.
Instead I came face-to-face with a petite brunet with short, spikey hair, hazel eyes, and a slender frame.
He caught my gaze and winked. “My mother had a sense of humor. I’m Thor. What can I get you to drink?”
Even as he asked the question, about ten members of the crew arrived.
“Uh—” I leaned closer. “Nonalcoholic cider?”
“You got it.” He pivoted to Stella.
I sank into the chaos of noise.
The two women had simply accepted I had an ex-husband who was a jerk, Hell, they hadn’t batted an eyelash at me being queer, and clearly Stella was a lesbian.
Later, I’d remember I could’ve seen Cody’s condo complex from the parking lot of the brew pub, but at the time, I was too busy enjoying the first social moment with coworkers I’d had in years.