Chapter 11 Hudson
HUDSON
Matthias Magnuson was a bastard. If I’d dared to hope things might improve between us after we had sex, I was a damn fool.
I didn’t know where the hell I stood with him.
At least before, I’d known he hated me. Now?
I was even more confused. He hadn’t said he forgave me.
In fact, I was pretty sure he hadn’t, but then we’d ridden back on Junebug together, and the way he’d held me in front of him had left me feeling hopeful.
And that made this week even harder to swallow.
He hadn’t said much after the lake. Not a word about what had happened between us. He’d taken off to some cattle auction in Emerald Fort, supposedly looking into a stud bull for one of the breeders we worked with.
At first, I’d told myself he left to get away from the tongues wagging in the town about Gray and Ozzie’s affair.
It was bad. Instead of waiting for things to die down, they had opted to flaunt their relationship on a double date with Lawson and Opie.
Now rumors had it that the four of them were into some pretty questionable things, which might or might not involve swapping partners.
I didn’t believe a word of it, of course, but it didn’t matter. The damage was already done.
But even if he’d left to get away from the gossip, three days was a long time to go without speaking after what we’d done. And I hated it.
Hated the silence more than the shouting.
At least when he was angry, I felt something from him. Now? It was quiet. Distant.
I shifted in the hard plastic chair outside Ivy’s speech therapist’s office, rubbing my palms against my jeans.
Through the tall glass window, I saw Ivy sitting on the floor with Miss Kelly, her favorite red overalls swallowing her small frame, legs tucked up against her chest like she didn’t want to be there.
A toy farm set was spread out between them. Flashcards arranged in a neat little line. Miss Kelly was pointing at an image, making exaggerated mouth shapes, then tapping her own throat like she usually did to prompt a sound.
But Ivy didn’t even try, didn’t move her lips.
She didn’t smile or reach for the cards.
She stared at the rug like it might swallow her whole, clutching the same plastic sheep she’d been holding since the session started. Her little mouth pressed into a flat line. Her chin trembled now and then in that way I knew meant she was fighting back tears.
Goddammit.
Last night she’d had a night terror. Her screams had torn through the house and yanked me out of sleep like a gunshot.
I ran barefoot, heart pounding, nearly slamming into the doorframe in my panic.
She was thrashing in bed, eyes wide but not seeing, caught in some kind of nightmare loop I couldn’t pull her from.
The doctors had said she would grow out of it, but every time it happened, I felt so helpless.
All I could do was sit beside her, rub her back, and whisper until her breathing slowed. I ended up sleeping on the floor next to her bed in case it happened again. Then she’d woken up cranky this morning, rubbing her eyes and asking for her mama.
So yeah, a shit day.
Miss Kelly gave her one more prompt, gentle as ever. Ivy didn’t look up. The therapist climbed to her feet and cracked the door open.
“Hudson? You can come in now.”
I got to my feet, heart thudding, and stepped inside. We didn’t immediately go over to Ivy, who still clutched the toy in her hand. I sensed she wanted to say something significant, and my stomach cramped.
“Is everything okay?” I asked in a hushed voice so Ivy didn’t hear.
Miss Kelly crossed her arms. “She didn’t want to participate today. I get the feeling something has changed since I last saw her.”
I swallowed and shoved my hands into my front pockets. “My wife left us two weeks ago.”
She straightened but otherwise showed no reaction. “I see. I wish you had told me this at the start of our meeting. I might have conducted today’s session a bit differently.”
“Sorry about that. We’re still processing.”
“Does she see her mother at all? I don’t mean to pry, but as this may cause a setback, it’s best I know the details that pertain to her.”
“I don’t know. She just left, and she hadn’t been in contact with us since.”
A part of me was relieved Heather had left us, but that was the selfish part of me that somehow clung to the hope that once she didn’t exist in my life anymore, Matty wouldn’t be so mad. That Matty might forgive me.
But what about Ivy? She was hurting, and I needed to do what was best for her, like I did the day I married her mother.
“That’s unfortunate. This kind of disruption can contribute to her anxiety, which affects her speech. I’d hate to see all her progress go down the drain.”
“I’ve tried to keep everything as normal as possible for her.”
But there had been so many changes. She no longer saw her mother.
She was meeting and learning new people at the ranch.
As fond as she was of Ozzie, there were so many activities happening there.
But what else could I do? I couldn’t quit my job to stay with her all the time. How would I take care of us?
“You’re a good father, Hudson,” she said gently. “Ensure you’re taking time to care for yourself as well. Your mental health is also important for you to give Ivy the best of yourself. Kids pick up more than we realize, and she’s particularly close to you. If you’re unhappy, she’ll know.”
I nodded, guilt heavy in my chest. “I’ll figure it out.”
Miss Kelly offered a small smile, but then her expression shifted. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about, and I know it will come as a shock, but I’ve put it off for too long. I’ll be closing my office.”
The words landed like a punch to the gut. “You’re what?” After everything she had just said, how could she so casually drop that bombshell?
“I’m moving east to be with my family,” she said. “My parents aren’t well, and I’ve been needing to go for a while now. I’ve arranged for Ivy’s file to be transferred, and I’ve already spoken with another therapist who’s happy to take her on.”
“What therapist?”
“She comes highly recommended. Dr. Allison DeWitt. She’s got a private practice about twenty minutes from here.”
I knew that name. I’d looked her up when we were first told that Ivy would need speech therapy. Her office had been everything I wanted for Ivy, except affordable.
My stomach twisted.
I couldn’t afford it now any more than I could back then. We were in worse shape than we’d been financially, thanks to Heather taking all our money.
“I’ll give you the referral and the contact for a meet and greet. I really think she’d be a good fit for Ivy. I’m so sorry she will have to go through another change, but she’s truly a brave girl. You keep up with her therapy, surround her with love, and she will learn to overcome her challenges.”
I nodded numbly, trying to hide the sick feeling in my gut.
“Thank you,” I said. “For everything.”
When Miss Kelly stepped aside, I went over to Ivy, who got up and practically fell into my arms. A lump formed in my throat.
“Hey, baby.” I wrapped her close. “You okay?”
She didn’t speak. Just curled into me like she wanted to disappear. Her small fingers fisted the fabric of my shirt, and her cheek stayed glued to my collarbone. Not a word. Not even a nod.
I thanked Miss Kelly again, maxed out my credit card paying for her visit, then carried my daughter to the truck.
I strapped her gently into her car seat.
Still nothing. No resistance, no protest. Just that too-quiet blankness while she fiddled with her overalls.
I smoothed her hair off her forehead and kissed the top of her head.
Climbing into the driver’s seat, I glanced at her through the rearview mirror.
“You hungry, Ivy?” I tried to force some cheer into my voice, but it was difficult around the lump in my throat. “Wanna stop by the bakery? Maybe Miss Loreen will have a cake for you to decorate again.”
Silence.
“You want grilled cheese when we get home? Or hot dogs? You can pick.”
Nothing. Not even a shrug.
I gripped the steering wheel a little harder than necessary and turned the engine over. The drive back to Bristlecone Springs from Cockburn felt longer than usual. Every glance in the mirror was a reminder of how still she sat, head tilted, eyelids drooping like she might fall asleep.
God, if only I could take her home. Tuck her into bed. Let her nap off whatever this was. But the pantry was almost bare, and the milk had gone bad that morning.
“We’ll have to make a quick stop for groceries, Bug,” I said. “Just to grab a few things. Is that okay?”
I didn’t expect a response. Didn’t get one either.
And still, it stung.
The automatic doors whooshed open, letting us into the supermarket. The sudden chill of the air conditioning prickled down my arms. I reached for Ivy’s hand, and she slid hers into mine without a word, small and clammy and fragile.
As we moved through the aisles, she stayed glued to my side, no tugging away, no darting off like she sometimes did when she spotted something she liked. Just her soft footsteps matching mine, close enough that her little shoulder brushed my leg with every step.
In the cereal aisle, she stopped in front of the shelves, slowly scanning the bright boxes.
She let go of my hand, and I watched her fingers hover…
then close around the box with the cartoon monkey she loved.
She didn’t smile, but something in her posture eased.
A small moment of choice. Of control. She handed it to me to place in the cart without a sound, then wandered to the next shelf to grab her Jello packs.
It wasn’t much, but I took it. I took anything.
My phone rang.
I fished it out of my back pocket and pressed it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hudson… are you finally over your tantrum?”
I blinked, the voice on the other end familiar and yet strange at the same time. “Mom?”