Chapter 2
Oakley
I stare in shock at Lawson, who shoulders past me without another word. He beelines for the hallway, looking into the bathroom before finding my bedroom at the next doorway.
He disappears out of sight.
“Lawson?” I call, shutting the front door before hastening to catch up to him.
The man is in my closet now, pulling out a suitcase he unceremoniously tosses to the ground.
“What are you doing?” I question.
“I told you,” he says, unzipping the large bag. “You’re coming home.”
For long seconds, all I can do is blink at the man, trying to reconcile him being here in the first place with the fact that he’s currently trying to shove the contents of my wardrobe into a suitcase.
“Law.”
He grunts, pulling a few shirts off their hangers, his motions agitated. “You gonna help or what?”
“Am I gonna… All right, hold up.”
Lawson stops only once I grab his arms, my shirts piled haphazardly in his grip. There’s a sheen of moisture in his brown eyes that takes me off guard, but Lawson blinks and it disappears.
“What’s going on?” I ask carefully, feeling very much like I’m dealing with a spooked animal right now.
“I told you—”
“Oh, I know what you said. But I told you last we talked that I’m staying here. I have a job in this town and a life—”
“A life,” he practically spits, sounding incredulous. He tosses the shirts down, and I let him go, taken aback by his uncharacteristic ire. “You had a life. And you left it.”
“That’s not fair. You know why I left.”
“For Stevie,” he says, crouching down again and shoving my shirts into the suitcase, unfolded. “And where’s Stevie now?”
I suck in a breath, and Lawson stills, his gaze meeting mine. There’s apology there, but he doesn’t back down, even as his voice gentles.
“Y’all broke up months ago, Oak. They’re gone, but you’re still here. Why haven’t you come home?”
My swallow is harsh. “Stop packing my shit, Lawson.”
“No.”
He goes to my dresser, tugging a drawer open and tossing a handful of my underwear onto the shirts in my bag. Socks follow. When he realizes the bag is full, he grunts and heads for the hall.
“Where are you going?” I ask, following after him.
His eyes sweep the living room before he heads for the kitchen. “Where’s Bell?”
“Lawson Darling. I am not leaving.”
“Like hell you aren’t. Bell?”
Lawson goes for the back door as he calls again for Bell, but I block his exit, my hand on the wood. “Are you listening to me? You can’t just…show up here and pack up my things and expect me to follow.”
My friend spins, toe to toe with me as he sets his jaw. We’re the same height, so his eyes meet mine easily, a hurt there I’m not expecting.
“You followed them.”
He doesn’t need to clarify who. “Stevie was my partner.”
“And who am I?” he asks, waiting for me to answer.
I let out a quiet breath. “My best friend.”
“That’s right, Oakley Beaumont. I am. And I would never leave you like they did.”
Lawson tugs open the back door as I stare after him, my chest painfully tight at the unspoken words. Not like I left him, either.
“Bell!” he calls, stepping outside.
“Law,” I say, tired beyond measure, despite the fact that I just woke up. “What are you expecting to happen here? Bell’s not gonna fit in either of our trucks, and I can’t leave her behind.”
“I brought my trailer.”
He…
I backpedal, heading for the front door and tugging it open. There’s a goddamn trailer attached to Lawson’s truck. Jesus Christ.
I hear a soft rhythmic chiming as I recross my house, Bell the Miniature Galloway cow trotting up to Lawson.
The man is all smiles as the cow reaches him, looking as happy as a cow can look.
Her body is entirely white, her nose, ears, and hooves a stark black in contrast. She reaches Lawson’s hip at her adult age of six, small for a cow but not small by any means.
The bell around her neck jingles as Lawson gives her the pets she’s demanding.
“You brought your trailer,” I say flatly.
“Like I said,” Lawson drawls, “you’re coming home.”
“Did you ever stop to think this is my home now?”
Lawson looks over at me, his hair, darker than my own, styled back neatly. His facial hair is trimmed neatly, too, and he’s wearing a lightweight shirt that wouldn’t be out of place if he were teaching instead of here, trying to bodily move me from my house.
“Oakley. You know exactly where your home is, and this isn’t it.”
“I have a job here,” I point out.
“And you’ll always have a job waiting for you at the ranch.”
He’s talking about Darling Ranch, the beef and dairy cattle operation at his childhood home. But whether or not his brother Jackson is willing to hire me back isn’t the point.
Lawson steps through the door, Bell at his heels. She meanders into the kitchen as he returns to my bedroom.
“Be good,” I warn my cow before following after Lawson. He’s shoving my pants into a duffel bag now. “And what about my house?”
“You have a house in Darling.”
My eyebrow pops up. “Oh, do I? ’Cause last I knew, I sold that years ago.”
Lawson is quiet for a beat before he says, “The newest renters left a couple weeks back. I…asked your parents to hold it. It’s ready and waiting for you.”
I go still, stunned. “And when the hell were you planning on telling me this?”
“I’m telling you now.”
I can’t stop the laughter that rolls out of me. “You’ve got some serious nerve, you know that? Are you even going to say hello? I haven’t seen you in three damn years and—”
Lawson’s arms come around me tight before I can even finish my sentence. He hugs me so forcefully I swear my ribs creak. I hug him back just as hard.
“Hey,” he says, voice choked.
I huff another laugh. “Long time.”
“Yeah. It has been.”
It’s a good minute before Lawson and I part.
I look him over. Truly look him over. There’s a tension around his eyes he doesn’t normally carry, different from the faint lines that have popped up with age.
A slight frown causing his mouth to pinch.
He looks tired. Worn in a way that has my worry resurfacing.
“What’s going on, Law? Is it the divorce?”
He grunts, dismissing that as he goes back to shoving my pants into the duffel. I leave him to it for now. “It’s fine. Laura and I have been separated for a while.”
“Sure, but—”
“This isn’t about me.”
I highly doubt that. “Tell me what it’s about, then.”
He stops packing, looking up to meet my eye. “There’s nothing here for you, Oak. And don’t try to tell me there is. The only reason you came out here was because of Stevie’s job.”
“I like it here well enough,” I defend.
“Well enough.” He scoffs. “That’s not good enough. What the hell is tethering you here? Give me one thing.”
I rack my brain.
“We already covered your job and housing situation,” he goes on, as if it’s that simple. “I’ve got a trailer for Bell. We can fit the rest of what you want to bring in our trucks. Name one good reason for you not to come home.”
I can’t name a single thing. Except it’s not that simple. It feels like admitting defeat. My relationship crashed and burned. My reason for moving, as Lawson pointed out, is no longer a reason to stay gone.
But what does moving back to Darling accomplish besides broadcasting my failed attempt at creating a life for myself?
I’m forty-three. I thought I’d be settled down by now, and I was on track for that. Up until Stevie decided this life—our life—wasn’t what they wanted. And I can’t fault them for that. I wouldn’t have wanted them to stay if it meant unhappiness for either of us.
But it still hurts. To know how much I was willing to give, only to learn it wasn’t enough in the end.
Lawson makes a soft sound that draws my attention, his words unerringly piercing the heart of me, as they so often do. “We miss you, Oak. I do. Your parents. Wendy.”
“Aw, come on, Law. That’s not fair.”
He smirks, knowing damn well his daughter is my weak point. I love Wendy to death, and leaving her and Lawson to come to Kansas was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
“Come back to us,” Lawson pleads.
Fuck.
I slump down onto the floor, elbows on my knees and head in my hands as I scrub my fingers through my hair. “Damn it, Law.”
“You’re coming?”
“Doesn’t seem like I have much choice, does it? Pretty sure there’s no getting you out of this house unless it’s with everything I own and my damn cow. You don’t play fair.”
“Never said I would,” he mutters.
I shake my head. Lawson is one of the most levelheaded people I know. But when he gets set on something, there’s very little that can be done to change his course.
His hand lands on my calf, squeezing once. “I am sorry about Stevie.”
I lift my head. “Are you?”
“I’m sorry they hurt you, Oak. You have to know that.”
“But you’re not sorry they’re gone.”
Lawson has never outright said he doesn’t like Stevie. But there was always an undercurrent between them I couldn’t parse out. Lawson gives everyone the benefit of the doubt, but he was never warm with my partner. And Stevie, well…they certainly didn’t care for Lawson, either.
My friend chews his words for a moment. “They weren’t good for you.”
“That so?” I nearly huff, wondering why he’s only saying so now. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel, Law?”
Despite my teasing tone, Lawson answers seriously. “They never treated you the way you deserve.”
My heart thumps. “And what do I deserve?”
Warm brown eyes hold mine, and I wait for the blow to my chest I know is coming. It does, a second later, with one concise word.
“Everything.”