Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Anna
After two weeks of my brother ignoring my calls and texts, I took a dozen cookies from Sugar and drove out of town to the ranch after dinner Thursday evening.
It was dark and cold with a light snow falling, but it likely wouldn’t stick. It was just peaceful and pretty. I soaked in that peace, suspecting I’d need it for my time with Ryder. Peaceful was the last word I’d use to describe my brother.
I turned into the ranch and followed the road to the staff quarters where he’d lived since he was seventeen.
His building was a long, narrow one with six private units and a rustic front porch that ran the full length.
His place was a cozy one-bedroom with a kitchenette, living area, and bath—just what he needed and not much more—plus a view from the porch of the ranch and the beautiful tree-covered rolling hills beyond.
As I pulled up my car alongside his truck, I took stock of the area, noting nobody was in sight. A light shone from his window, telling me he was likely back from dinner at the main house.
I killed the engine and took a fortifying breath before exiting. I was fully aware he wouldn’t welcome me with open arms. He wasn’t that kind of person.
I got out, noted the faint smell of nature and horses, and headed to Ryder’s end unit. A few seconds after I knocked, the door opened.
“Figured you’d be here before now.” He left the door open and went back to the sofa where it appeared he’d been reading a book.
“Good to see you too,” I said with exaggerated friendliness. “If you knew I’d come by, why didn’t you just reply to my texts?”
“I wasn’t in the mood.”
“You weren’t in the mood, or you wanted me to come visit?” I teased, refusing to let his grouchiness affect me.
“I’m fine, Anna. See?” He spread his arms as if to present himself. “You can go now.”
“Don’t be like that,” I said, walking to his end table and setting down the container of cookies. I opened it and helped myself to a llama-shaped sugar cookie with vanilla frosting and sprinkles, then settled into the armchair. “How’s your week been?”
Ryder leaned forward and plucked out a chocolate chip cookie, as I’d known he would, then rested his elbows on his knees and took a bite. When he’d swallowed, he said, “You came all the way out here to see how my week is?”
Crossing my legs underneath me in the chair, I shot back, “I came out here because I needed some fresh air and peace. Then I decided to blow that up by visiting you.”
That elicited a chuckle from him. “Might be faster to just bang your head against the wall.”
“That’s the truth,” I said lightly.
This was a familiar pattern. Ryder could never act happy to see me, particularly when I stopped by unannounced.
I wasn’t sure he had that kind of friendliness in him, but I didn’t let it bother me.
He was my brother. He saw me as his forever-meddling older sister.
He’d be perfectly content to never have a visitor.
If I didn’t work to maintain our relationship, I wasn’t sure we’d still have one, even though I knew he loved me in his way.
He was just the kind of person who could survive on very little human interaction.
He preferred animals to people and spent the majority of his time with horses.
“How’s Enigma?” I asked of the horse he’d been working with at Christmas.
“Coming along.”
At my apartment, before our mother had arrived, Ryder had talked in detail about the horse they’d rescued from an abusive situation. It was one of the few topics I could usually get him to go into detail about. All bets were off when I’d intruded on his evening though.
“How are the guys?” I asked about the brothers who owned the ranch.
Ryder shrugged and glanced at his paperback, telling me he’d rather be reading than talking. “Fine, I guess.”
Small talk was getting me nowhere. “So Mom got mad and went home a few minutes after you did,” I told him.
He scoffed. “I’m telling you. Nail appointment.”
“She gave me the I can tell I’m not wanted here line and stormed out. I didn’t try to stop her.”
“She’s a piece of work. You need to let it go, Anna,” he said with conviction. “Let her go. Let our family go, or what’s left of it.”
I frowned. “I can’t do that. It’s the only family we have.”
He glanced toward the window, as if to say the ranch was his family now.
The ranch owners and the other workers had become like a second family to him, and I was thankful he’d found them.
Grateful they’d taken him in when he was such an angry, lost teenager.
But it cut me to the bone when he lumped me in with our mother and acted like he couldn’t care less if he ever saw me again.
My feelings must’ve shown on my face because he relented slightly. “You know I have no use for that woman.”
“She’s our mother,” I said for what must’ve been the hundredth time over the years.
It was the primary reason I offered to explain why I held on. We only had one mom, flawed or not. Ours was definitely flawed, but we knew why. We knew the nightmare she’d been through. It was the same one our whole family had weathered.
“We all heal at different rates,” I said, also not for the first time. “She’s not as far along as we are.”
He snorted. “She’s skipped right over healing in favor of becoming a self-absorbed, blame-throwing, overgrown child. She’s never going to change, Anna.”
“I think she can.”
“It’s been more than twenty years.”
“I’m going to try again to get her to go to counseling.”
When I expected him to scoff again, he snapped out, “Did you ever think that maybe your attempts to keep our family intact prevent us all from moving past what happened?”
I reared back, hurt, confused, stunned. Though Ryder was never warm and welcoming, he didn’t normally treat me with such vitriol. He must be more upset about our Christmas dinner than I’d thought.
“Family is supposed to be what gets us through the hard things,” I said.
“Our family is the hard thing,” he countered.
“She lost her youngest child, Ryder. We lost our sister, but losing a child has to be even worse.”
“I was driving the Jet Ski, Anna,” he said, his voice hard, cold. “She was holding on to me just before she was killed.”
“I know,” I whispered, the old, familiar grief surging. I swallowed and fought to keep my composure. “I know you were the one who lived through the accident. I can only imagine how horrible it was.” I paused to take a few steadying breaths.
Ryder had been twelve, and Cassie was nine when their Jet Ski was hit by a boat driven by a drunk tourist. My brother had been thrown from the personal watercraft, and that and his life jacket had likely saved his life. Our sister had been hit directly and died of head injuries.
“It wasn’t your fault, Ryder.”
“I know that,” he spit out with venom. “I went through three years of counseling to finally accept that, but Mom still blames me.”
“Mom knows it was a terrible accident.”
He let out a sardonic laugh. “She might pay lip service to that, but deep down, she holds me responsible. That’s why she pokes at me with shit like the baby at your place. She knows damn well my feelings about kids, and yet she needles me.”
I couldn’t deny that. “You said it yourself, Ryder. She’s the child in the relationship. You have to keep that in mind.”
“I don’t have to do a damn thing regarding her because I don’t care,” he said, his volume rising.
“I don’t want her in my life. You need to let this go.
You’re such a giver, Anna.” His voice wavered slightly with something other than anger for a second.
Something more tender. He shook his head.
“You’ve tried so hard to fix our family for more than twenty years.
But giving has to be two-way, and Mom will only ever take.
I refuse to give her one more minute of my energy, and you should too. ”
“If family isn’t there for you, who is, Ryder? Who else does Mom have?”
“I don’t give a single shit. She’s made her bed. I’m done fending off the veiled, ever-present blame. No more family dinners. No more holidays. If Mom’s there, don’t invite me.”
“You won’t even do it for me?” I asked.
“Showing up for shit shows like that Christmas dinner is not doing you any favors. You don’t enjoy them. Nobody fucking enjoys them. Cut your losses, Anna.”
“What if I’m not ready to do that?”
“Then that’s your problem. Keep me out of it.” He said it with a finality I couldn’t miss, and I knew he’d be true to his word.
I moved to the front edge of the chair, preparing to leave, then remembered something I meant to tell him.
“I moved out of my apartment last week. I’m rooming with Kemp,” I said quietly. “In case you need me.”
Even as I said it, I knew he wouldn’t need me. I was the one who maintained our relationship. I was the one who took all the initiative. I texted him to check in. I visited him at the ranch. I insisted he show up for holiday meals and other important events.
I didn’t ever want to find out how long he’d go without any contact, but if I didn’t make the first move, all the first moves, I’d have my answer.
“Are you guys together now?” he asked, raising a brow.
I shook my head and explained my deal with Kemp.
“Sounds like you’re playing house but without the sex,” Ryder said.
“Stop. I was helping him anyway. Now I’m closer. It’s easier. And I don’t have to pay rent.”
“I guess that’s your call.”
“What’s your problem, Ryder? You get along with Kemp. Do you really have zero empathy?”
“It’s just a big commitment on your part.”
“A commitment I went into with eyes wide open. I’m already in love with Oliver. Of course I want to help. He’s been through too much already.”
My brother grunted in a way I couldn’t decipher.
“You might work on getting over your issue with kids now that I have one for a roommate,” I continued.
His brows went up as if to assure me he didn’t plan to drop by. Of course he didn’t. He hadn’t when it was just me in my apartment. He’d go out of his way to avoid interacting with Kemp’s son now. It didn’t matter that Kemp was almost like family.
I felt my brother slipping away from me.
“You’re just…done? With me too?” I asked, my voice vibrating with irritation.
“I’m done with the drama,” he said quietly, so much less angry than ten seconds ago, and that was more disconcerting than if he’d yelled. “I just want peace.”
Something clicked in me.
I bolted off my chair and went to the door.
Everything felt like a fight these days. This one was the straw that broke this girl’s back.
At the door, I stopped and looked back at my brother, whose eyes were on me.
“Guess what,” I spit out. “You can have your precious peace, Ryder. I’m out. Have a nice life.”
Shaking and livid, I walked outside and slammed the door with everything I had.
It did nothing to make me feel better.