7. Cole
COLE
The headlights illuminate the darkness as I navigate my way through the overgrown redbuds that line the dirt drive.
I’ve been meaning to get rid of them, but Mama always loved when the buds flowered in spring, said it brought a little color to the panhandle’s permanent sepia tinge.
I never knew back then what she meant. Funny how as we grow older, things our mamas told us as kids suddenly start to make sense.
I haven’t found it in me to cut them down yet.
One of these days, though. Pretty as they are, they’re a goddamn pain in my ass. Hell, the pretty things usually are.
When I make it to the clearing, I find Wyatt waiting on the porch steps, my truck parked up next to the house where it belongs, trailer secured by the barn in the back.
Pulling up to a stop, I hop out, dreading the inquiry I’m about to face, but when Wyatt meets me, handing me my keys, all I get is a casual, “Everythin’ alright?”
“Yeah.” Clearing my throat, I nod, handing his keys back. “You wanna beer?” I point to the house.
“Nah, I gotta pick Darcy up from The Saddlery,” he says, nodding to his truck. “You know what she’s like when she’s drunk and left to wait.”
I can’t help but laugh, because I do know.
Darcy is Wyatt’s girl. She was once my girl, casual basis only.
But one day she stopped wanting to hang out.
She wanted more, more than I could ever give her.
Didn’t matter though because turned out she didn’t want more with me, she wanted more with Wyatt, and that sappy son of a bitch has been wanting to be someone’s fella for as long as he’s had hair on his balls.
Turns out Wyatt and Darcy are the perfect match; same people in different font.
“See ya tomorrow,” I say over my shoulder.
“Hey, Cole?”
I turn, looking back as Wyatt pauses by his truck. And I don’t know why, but he looks nervous, almost scared as he rubs at the back of his neck, doing all he can to avoid meeting my eyes.
“What’s up?”
Finally, he looks at me, steadying me with a long, hard imploring stare. “You’ll tell me if you’re in trouble?”
My brows knit together because honestly, I have no idea what the fuck he’s talking about.
But the longer I stare at him, trying to make sense of his words, that’s when I see it.
The same flash of concern he had in his eyes earlier at the rodeo, and my heart drops into the pit of my ass.
Did Bailey say something to Darcy. Does he know something’s up?
Swallowing hard, I nod again. “I’m fine, man. Swear.”
He watches me for another long moment, and just when I think he doesn’t buy it for one second, he nods and hoists himself up into his truck. Then, with a three-finger salute, he drives off, disappearing beyond the redbuds.
When it’s just me and the quiet, I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding, heading up the porch steps and inside.
I bought this place last year. It ain’t much.
Two bedrooms, a small living room, a tiny eat-in kitchen with a stove that don’t work half the time, and a bathroom I can barely turn around in.
Wood floors in dire need of a sand and polish, tacky wallpaper that’s half-peeling off, and a rusted tin roof I don’t think has another storm season left in it.
I got it dirt cheap: a deceased estate. The plan is to knock it down and rebuild, or at the very least renovate it.
I might even buy a couple more acres off the Willis family who own the neighboring ranch.
Jed Willis is getting a little long in tooth, and all his kids have moved on so, sadly, he ain’t got no one to pass it onto.
Better me than some developer lookin’ to build a mini-mall Summer don’t need.
I toss my keys onto the kitchen counter and pull open the fridge, grabbing a beer. Cracking the can, I take a long pull, finishing almost half of it in one chug.
It’s almost one a.m. and normally, if I’m not at the bar with the fellas, I’d be dragging my sorry ass to bed after a rodeo, but not tonight.
Tonight I’m too wired. I can’t stop thinking about her.
Clara. The pretty girl, with the pretty name.
And that harrowing look in her pretty eyes when she was about to tell me the truth.
I’m almost certain I have it figured out. From the bruises she was trying to hide, to the way she flinched when I got closer to her, the heartbreaking way she pleaded at me not to hurt her. Fuck, it made my heart ache.
I carry my beer through the doorway to the living room and lift the lid on the old record player sitting in the corner.
Lining up the needle, crackle fills the void of silence before Waylon Jennings starts to play through the house, keeping me company while I get the place tidy enough for Clara and her kids to arrive in the morning.
I don’t normally work weekends with my rodeo schedule, but during the spring months, I try to help out where I can.
After a couple hours sleep, I head on over to the ranch before sunrise, ready to muck out the stalls and feed the horses.
As I’m hopping out of my truck, Austin walks out of the bunkhouse and stops, his eyes spearing me through the dim light of dawn.
I can tell by the way that muscle’s ticking in his jaw, he ain’t happy.
“My office,” is all he says, turning.
Huffing a resigned sigh, I follow him to his office, which is really just the hood of his truck, where many a scalding has occurred.
“What’s up, Boss?” I ask, trying to keep it casual.
Austin fronts up to me, arms folded across his chest, steely look in his eyes.
“Why the fuck’d you call Cruz last night?” he grits out, keeping his voice low and full of warning.
A thick swallow works its way down my throat as I think of something—anything—to tell him that doesn’t jeopardize Clara or her kids. Removing my hat, I rake my fingers through my hair, glancing up at the dark-purple sky tinged with the hint of gold, creeping in from the east.
“Is there somethin’ I should know about, Cole?” Austin presses me, and he’s both stern and concerned because he’s not just my boss, he’s like a brother to me.
I shake my head, teeth gritted tight.
He looks at me like he doesn’t believe me.
“I promise,” I assure him. “It was a… personal… thing.”
A crease burrows between Austin’s eyebrows as he studies me a moment, softening a touch and looking me up and down. “You okay?”
I nod once.
Accepting my response, Austin sighs, removing his hat and pushing his overgrown hair back from his face. “Be careful with him, Cole,” he says after a moment. “He’s on the payroll but… if he takes money from me, who’s to say who else he takes money from, y’hear?”
I nod, again, slowly this time, seriously considering what he’s just told me because he’s right. The only thing my daddy ever said worth something was that there ain’t nothing more dangerous than a crooked cop.
“If you’re in trouble, you come to me,” Austin adds, offering me a no-bullshit look.
I nod again. “Yeah, I know. I’m okay though, I swear. I’ll tell ya if I’m not.”
His eyes flit between mine, looking at me like he’s trying to call my bluff, and I avert my gaze over to the bunkhouse, right as Brady and Webber walk out.
“You get on down to the barn,” Austin mutters. “Horses ain’t gonna feed ’emselves.”
I throw him a salute and jog to join the fellas as they head down toward the stables to start on the morning chores, never more thankful for having to shovel shit.
I tap my knuckle against the door, taking a step back and waiting.
Moments later, the latch releases and ever so carefully, the door inches open, only I don’t see Clara’s face like I’d expected.
I don’t even see Tom. I’m forced to look down.
Way down. Spotting a set of wide blue eyes peering up at me, framed by an untamed mop of curly blonde hair.
“Hi,” she says with a small smile.
“Well, howdy there, Miss.” I remove my hat, crouching down to get to her eye level. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. My name’s Cole.” Holding my hand out, she eyes it dubiously, like she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do with it, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“I’m Billie,” she says, her little fist bumping my extended hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Billie.”
“Billie, what’d I tell you about opening the door?” A chiding voice comes from behind her and the little girl offers me an impish grin while closing the door right in my face.
Seconds later the door swings open again, only this time I’m met with Clara looking freshly showered yet flustered, her cheeks tinged pink with exertion.
My eyes rake down her body almost as if instinctually, and it’s only then I notice the red tank top that shows off a hint of her belly button, and the cut off jean shorts that emphasize her curves. Goddamn.
“Sorry,” she says on a breathless huff, forcing my attention from her hips. “It’s… been a morning.”
I fold my arms across my chest, arching a brow. “You packed?”
She nods quickly, looking over her shoulder like she’s doing one last check. “Yeah.”
“Need me to grab anythin’?”
She shakes her head, and I stand here while she disappears, the door swinging open for me to get a look in.
I’ve never been inside the Sleepy Nites Motel, but it’s just as miserable as I imagined it to be, and no place for kids.
My house certainly ain’t no Hilton, but it’s clean and it’s safe.
Free of mold and meth dealers, at least.
I still have no idea what I’m doin’ offering this stranger and her kids a place to stay, but if Mama were here, I know she’d be proud, and that’s all that matters to me.
“Hi.” Billie waves at me from where she’s sitting on the end of one of the beds, pink sneakered feet kicking back and forth, her dog, Curly, if memory serves, tucked close to her chest.
I lift my hand in a wave, biting back my grin. She’s a damn cutie-pie, that’s for sure.
Tom appears then, clutching the straps of his backpack and looking up at me with a small, wavering smile. “Hey, Cole.”
“How you doin’, man?” I hold my fist in the air for a bump, but then I see him flinch at the movement, and I quickly drop my hand, burying it into the pocket of my jeans, anger burning my chest at the realization. Fuck.
“Can I ride with you?” Tom asks after a few seconds. “I’ve never been in a truck before.”
“Uh—” I rub my stubbled chin, looking over his shoulder to where Clara’s inside the room, grabbing the last few things and shoving them into a bag. “I mean, if it’s alright with your mama?”
“Mom, can I ride with Cole in his truck?” Tom calls back over his shoulder.
Clara freezes then, the fearful look in her eyes hitting me like a slap to the face. And it’s only then that I understand it. I don’t know her, but she don’t know me from Adam either. I could be anyone and yet here she is, desperate enough to be accepting my offer of help.
“Why don’t you ride with mom and little sister?” I suggest after a silent beat, winking down at him. “I can take you for a ride in my truck another time.”
He seems to understand, and nods.
“Okay, we’re ready.” Clara walks out of the room pulling the door closed behind her, Billie’s hand clutched tight in her grip.
“Y’all follow me,” I call over my shoulder, walking back to my truck.