38. Clara
CLARA
Ifollow Dolly’s dust trail as Cole leads the way down the long, dirt drive, past endless fields of golden grass, cacti, and red dirt, black cattle dotted about in the distance as far as I can see.
In the daytime, the ranch is a lot different; less scary for sure, but so vast, it’s as if it goes on forever.
I can’t help but wonder if a person got lost here, they might never be found.
Buildings come into view up ahead. A huge red barn with the ranch logo emblazoned across the main gable, smaller barns and structures, and what appears to be stables surrounded by pens with horses and a few more cattle.
We continue on, following another small stretch of nothing, a small two-story house is visible off to the left, and to the right, is another two-story house.
It’s smaller than the last which is when Cole slows and turns off the main drive and onto the small rocky road that leads to it.
Once we’re stopped right outside, I shut off the engine and hop out of my car, taking in the house which looks older than Cole’s but in a little better condition.
It’s cute. Rustic and weathered, it looks like it was recently painted—white with blue shutters—with a tin roof, and a porch swing, its chain creaking against the afternoon breeze.
“This is it,” Cole says, hopping out of his truck.
“Where’s the storm shelter?” I ask, scanning the surroundings, desperate to get my bearings just in case.
“Just over there.” Cole points and my eyes follow the direction of his finger, spotting the hatch.
“When are the storms expected?” I ask, looking up at the sky which, in its defense, is a bright blue, save for that permanent tawny tinge I’ve come to learn is all Texas.
Cole clears his throat, tugging on the back of his neck as he looks out over the horizon. “Uh, they’re expected to start tonight… or maybe tomorrow.” He meets my eyes then, offering me a somewhat uncertain smile as he says, “You know what the weather’s like.”
I narrow one eye, looking at him closely because sure, I trust him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone, not just a man, but something feels off. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Cole nods, quickly. Then, stepping up to me, his hands find my waist, pulling me flush against him. “I’m okay, baby.” The smile he offers me is genuine, his dimples popping into his cheeks, and it takes not only my breath away, but my doubts with it.
“You’re staying here with us,” I begin, looking up at him hopefully. “Aren’t you?”
A thick swallow works down Cole’s throat causing his Adam’s apple to bob. Blue eyes flitting between mine, he nods slowly. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, darlin’.”
My shoulders sag with an exhale and I nestle into his warmth, basking in the feel of his arms around me, holding me tight. His embrace feels like a promise that he really will never let anything happen to us.
The farrier’s cabin is quaint inside. All wood and worn leather; there’s a main bedroom downstairs with a queen bed, and a loft upstairs that has two single beds, perfect for the kids.
Not only did Mama Joy come here and clean the place, opening the windows and letting in the fresh, country air, she also made it look and feel like a home, with soft knit blankets, sweet-smelling candles placed about, and a vase of beautiful fresh flowers sitting on the small kitchen table.
She even left a bunch of toys upstairs for Billie and Tommy. I adore that woman.
I brought as much as I could from Cole’s house.
I want the kids to feel at home as much as they can because god knows they’ve already been pulled from pillar to post enough.
They’re really starting to feel like they have a place where they belong at Cole’s; and while I know this is only temporary, I don’t want them to feel uncomfortable and possibly regress.
As I’m making the beds in the loft, my phone rings in the pocket of my jean shorts and I tug it out to see that the call is coming from Meow’s. My brows tug together because Bruce has never called me before, and unless he’s asking me to work tonight, I can’t imagine a call from him is a good thing.
“Hello?”
“Blondie,” Bruce gruffs through the phone.
I bite my tongue to stop myself from correcting him, instead forcing a smile despite the fact I know he can’t see me. “Hi, Bruce.”
He clears his throat, hesitating a moment. “Uh, listen, I don’t like bein’ the bearer of bad news and all, but… I gotta cut your shifts.”
My mouth falls open on a gasp as panic surges through me. “What? Why? What… Did I do something?” I look around the room aimlessly, feeling tears burn. “I really need this job, Bruce. I—I’m sorry. Whatever it is… I-I can be better, I—”
“Aw, hell, don’t cry. It ain’t nothin’ you did.” Bruce tuts. “I just… business is slow.”
I shake my head thinking back to the last few shifts I worked when business was anything but slow. Of all the places in Summer, Meow’s seems to be the only business holding strong through the current financial climate.
“And, well, you were the last hire, so…” Bruce trails off, leaving the rest up to me to piece together.
I take a seat on the edge of one of the beds, my body sagging with the weight of the realization that I’ve just lost my job. “Okay.”
“It ain’t forever,” Bruce adds, and I can tell he’s just trying to make me feel better. “Just for the time bein’. ’Til things pick back up. You can come collect your last pay packet anytime. I’ll… throw in a small severance for ya.”
I heave a long, shuddered sigh, looking down at my cracked nail polish. “Thanks, Bruce.”
The call ends, and I toss the phone onto the mattress, pressing my palms into my eyes to relieve the pressure of the headache I can feel looming.
I’ve been able to save almost everything I’ve earned so far at Meow’s, aside from the cost of mine and the kids’ day-to-day living expenses, but it’s not much.
I need a job. If we’re going to find a place of our own here in Summer, I need to be able to afford first and last months’ rent plus whatever furniture we’re going to need; we’re starting from scratch.
I can’t not be earning money. Plus, I was really starting to like working at Meow’s with Maci and Kendra.
Despite Bruce telling me it wasn’t anything I did, I can’t help but feel like a failure. Fired from a goddamn strip club.
As I look around the loft of this strange house we’ve been exiled to, suddenly jobless with a goddamn tornado on the way, I don’t want to risk putting it out into the universe because my luck has never been the greatest, but I can’t help wonder what else can possibly go wrong…
After I finish making the kids’ beds, I walk down the stairs at the same time as Cole walks in from outside, looking every bit the dirty cowboy; red dust smears across his cheek, hair slick with sweat. He stops when he sees me, and I can tell immediately he knows something’s up.
Placing his hat onto the hook next to the door, he crosses the small living room and stops at the bottom of the stairs, eyes blazing as they peer up at me. “What’s wrong?”
I throw my hands in the air, walking down the last few steps to meet him. “Bruce… fired me.”
Cole’s eyes flit between mine. “Fired you?”
I nod, pushing my hair back from my flustered face with an exasperated huff.
“What… what’d he say?”
“He said business was slow and I was the last one he hired.” I shrug, at a loss. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
“Hey, now.” Cole’s hands land on my waist, and with a reassuring squeeze, he ducks to steady me with a look. “It ain’t worth worryin’ about.”
I gape at him. “Cole, I just lost my job. I—I’m a mother. I… need a job to put food on the table for my kids.”
“Clara.” His voice takes on a stern warning as he stares deep into my eyes, and I release a resigned sigh knowing exactly what he’s going to say. “You and me, we’re a team, y’hear?”
“I know…” I look down, but he catches me, tucking his finger beneath my chin and holding my gaze.
“We’ll figure it out. Together,” he whispers. “I got you.”
Fresh tears prick my eyes the longer I look at him because despite the overwhelming prick of failure that bites at my insides, Cole is the first man to ever truly mean it when he tells me that he’s got me. And I wholeheartedly believe and trust him.
“No tears, baby,” he rasps, wiping his thumb beneath my eye, collecting the tear that broke free. His lips quirk up in a smile, and it melts away the ickiness in my belly.
I sniffle, managing a smile, and he leans closer, resting his forehead against mine, the look in his eyes turning a shade darker, causing my heart to skitter.
“I need to take a shower,” he murmurs softly, grazing his lips with mine and coaxing a kiss out of me.
His hands move from my waist, following the curve of my ass before linking around my thighs. And before I know it, I’m being lifted off my feet, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
“And you’re comin’ with me, darlin’,” he gruffs against my mouth, turning us and walking through to the bathroom.