Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EAGLES, “HEARTACHE TONIGHT”
I launched into Operation Avoid Isaac. He knew too much about Matt and me because I’d unintentionally overshared. And what I didn’t say, he figured out on his own. I was an open book with large bold print, and he read every word and the blank spaces between each line.
But the day before Matt came home, Isaac popped into the farm stand just as I was closing up. My body was as stiff as my smile when my gaze landed on the guitar case in his hand.
“I’ll be at the rodeo tonight. I thought you might want to play my guitar since Matt’s gone, and you probably don’t have plans.”
“Do you think I don’t have friends? And why be nice now?” I cocked my head .
Isaac shrugged. “Fine. I’ll take it back to the house.” He turned.
“Wait!” I rolled my lips together. “I usually have plans. I’m a very popular person. But it just so happens that I don’t have anything going on tonight. So …”
“So nobody invited you to the rodeo?”
I laughed. “I’ve never been to the rodeo.”
His lips parted as he peered at me with disbelief.
“Are you roping?” I asked.
After a few more seconds of nothing but a single blink, he slowly nodded.
“Don’t look at me like that.” I laughed.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m the preacher’s daughter who has never been to a rodeo because my dad thinks there’s too much smoking and drinking going on.”
“You basically just confessed that you are , in fact, that person.”
I stepped around the counter and tried to take the guitar from him, but he didn’t willingly relinquish it.
“Come to the rodeo with me. I’m calf roping,” he said.
“I don’t think my father will approve.”
“You’re eighteen,” he narrowed his eyes.
“Living at home.”
“You have a car.”
“He’ll ask where I’m going.”
“What’s he going to do? Follow you?”
I chuckled. “You want me to lie.”
“Did you tell him where you were and what you were doing when you fucked my brother?”
I flinched at his language. It felt like a one-way ticket to Hell .
“Well, Matt’s not home to corroborate my lie. And if I ask Heather or one of my other friends to cover for me, they’ll want to know why.”
“Invite Heather. Let her be your partner in crime and your alibi.”
I chewed on the idea, scraping my teeth along my bottom lip, eyes focused on the guitar. “I’ll call her and tell her you invited us,” I said.
Isaac beamed.
I peeled his fingers from the guitar case handle. “But I still want the guitar for the night. Two nights, actually.”
He wet his lips. “A second night will cost you.”
I hugged the guitar case. “Do you want to write your name somewhere else on my body?” I rolled my eyes.
Isaac’s gaze surveyed said body. It made me feel dirty and exhilarated. I loved it and hated it in equal parts. I was ingrained with godly, moral behavior, but there was a streak of rebellion woven between those grins of purity that seemed to grow every day, especially on the days when I interacted with Isaac.
“Sunday Morning, I want to write my name on every inch of your body. But I don’t think it would bode well for your relationship with my brother or the great union of the Cory and Jacobson families.” Isaac turned and opened the door while gazing over his shoulder. “But I promise it would blow your fucking mind.” He smirked. “The rodeo starts at seven.”
That streak of rebellion? It divided and multiplied exponentially, poisoning my morality. Isaac dirtied everything. He dirtied me, turning white into gray.
I hugged the guitar tighter like it was Isaac, borderline wanting to hump it. My grin made my face hurt.
“Where are we going?” Heather asked as I hopped into her car.
“The rodeo, duh,” I said, eyeing her jeans, red cowboy boots, and straw cowboy hat.
“No duh,” she said. “I meant, where do your parents think we’re going?”
“Mini golf and the movies. What did you tell your parents?” I closed my door and fastened my seat belt.
She shrugged. “Nothing. I just told them we were going out. They don’t give me the third degree like your parents do.”
Heather was the youngest of three kids, so she basically raised herself. Her mom worked the night shift at the gas station, and her dad worked long hours at the tire plant just outside of Devil’s Head.
She laughed. “And when I’m going out with Pastor Jacobson’s daughter, they feel like I’m traveling with a guardian angel. Besides, we’re adults. What are they going to do when we go to college in the fall?”
Or Nashville .
“True,” I murmured. “But one of us isn’t going away to college.”
“Stop. You’ll get in somewhere,” Heather said as we pulled out of the driveway.
“I need to tell you something.” I drummed my fingers on my legs. “I think Isaac’s been flirting with me. Oh, and Mr. Cory is having an affair,” I said quickly with one long breath.
I wasn’t planning on spilling everything all at once, but the secrets were killing me. And Eve was a person I could confide in, but Heather was the person I needed. Nothing felt real until I shared it with her.
Heather didn’t respond, not a blink or the slightest muscle twitch as she gazed at the road.
“If I had the money, I’d pack a bag, leave everyone a note, and move to Nashville now. When I got there, I’d find a cheap place to stay and a day job so I could get bar gigs at night. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this.”
“S-Sarah,” Heather coughed on her words. “What are you—” She shook her head. “W-when did this happen? Isaac? Mr. Cory? What the heck?”
I rubbed my hands over my face and mumbled, “I know. Don’t be mad. I know you like him.”
“Who cares about Isaac. Mr. Cory is having an affair?”
I nodded. “It’s so unimaginable. Isaac has been letting me borrow one of his guitars. When I went to his room to get it, I heard something. And so I peeked my head around the corner to Wesley and Violet’s bedroom, and some dark-haired woman was naked on top of him in bed. I totally died because the floor squeaked under my feet, so I hid in Isaac’s closet until they left. Her voice sounded so familiar, but I couldn’t place it. And I never saw her face. And then Isaac has been saying some really inappropriate things to me, which makes me think he likes me. And as if all of that isn’t enough, I called Matt an asshole on the phone the other night and hung up on him because I don’t think he cares about my dreams.”
Heather shook her head a half dozen times. “I don’t even know what to say. But I mean, are you going to tell Matt about his dad? And how inappropriate has Isaac been? Like, has he done something or just said things that make you think he likes you? Now I feel bad for kissing him if you like him.”
“What? No. I don’t like him. I mean, I don’t … it’s just … never mind. And I’m not telling Matt about his dad. Wesley owns my family’s house, and he’s overlooked my parents missing some rent payments. It would destroy everything if I were the one to tell on him.”
Heather shook her head, speechless for a good minute or more.
“You can tell me if you like Isaac. Come on, Sarah; we’ve had a crush on him forever. Matt will totally die when he finds out, but you can’t control your feelings.”
“I wrote my name on the inside of his guitar case. It was so small you could barely see it. I still can’t believe he saw it. So he marched into the farm stand, grabbed a Sharpie, and yanked the neck of my shirt down to write his name on my boob. My boob !” I unbuttoned my blouse enough to show Heather.
She nearly ran her car into the ditch, making a quick correction after refocusing on the road. “Oh my god, that’s so …”
“Deranged.”
She shook her head. “Hot. That’s so hot. And awful. And …” Her face wrinkled. “Weird. Messed up. Sarah, your boyfriend’s brother wrote his name on your boob!”
“I know. I was there.” I buttoned my shirt.
“So seriously, do you like him?” Heather shot me another quick glance with disbelief etched into her brow.
“I like Matt.”
“You can like more than one guy, but you shouldn’t hog both Matt and Isaac. That’s not fair.”
I didn’t want to laugh. It wasn’t funny. But that’s what best friends did—they made you smile. Heather and I had a bond that felt stronger than family. Sometimes, I felt like we were the same person because we shared every secret and every experience.
“I don’t want both guys. Right now, I’m mad at Matt, and I think Isaac is toying with me. But that doesn’t matter anyway because I should love Matt, even though I’m mad at him. And the last person I should be with if I weren’t with him is his brother. You know?”
“Should? Sarah, did you just hear yourself?”
“I know.” I covered my face with my hands. “What is happening to me? And why can’t I stop it?”
“Isaac’s dreamy. Of course, you’re attracted to him.”
I grinned. “He is. But I don’t want to be attracted to him. And if you ever tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.”
“Ugh! This is all too unreal. I can’t believe Mr. Cory is having an affair,” Heather quickly changed the topic.
I couldn’t blame her. My head was all over the place, too, thinking about everything all at once.
“Violet is so nice,” Heather said. “And she’s pretty. And she does just as much around the ranch as he does. What kind of man does that to his wife and his family?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I wonder the same thing.”
As soon as we arrived at the rodeo, we found seats near the front. My jeans weren’t as tight as the other girls. I wore a loose blouse, while other girls wore tank tops or halter tops. And I didn’t own cowboy boots or a hat.
I had Keds and aviator sunglasses .
No makeup.
No hairspray.
No business being there.
Yet, I felt like an adult with endless possibilities and giddiness over my first rodeo. How I felt about seeing Isaac again—there were no words.
We watched barrel racing while eating popcorn and drinking Pepsi.
Then Heather grabbed my arm at the start of the next event. “Oh my god! There he is!” She pointed to a gate as the announcer introduced him. Isaac looked handsome in his gray and cream western shirt, blue jeans, and black cowboy hat. He adjusted his rope, holding a loop of it in his mouth for a second while he tugged at his gloves.
In the next breath, the gate beside him opened, followed by his gate. The calf sprinted through the dirt, and in a matter of seconds, Isaac had the calf lassoed around the neck. It was impressive. Heather cheered beside me while Isaac flew off his horse, ran toward the calf, and wrestled it while tying its legs. The calf struggled to get free.
I was horrified.
“What is he doing?” I stood. “He’s hurting the baby cow!”
“Shh!” Heather pulled on my arm until I sat beside her again. “He’s roping. And he’s really good at it.”
“That’s cruel.” I turned my head because I couldn’t watch.
“Oh my gosh, Sarah. How did you not know what he meant by calf roping?”
“Roping is one thing. Wrestling it to the ground and tying its legs is just awful.”
She giggled, covering her mouth. “It’s the rodeo. ”
First sex and then the rodeo. Why did I hate such popular things?
Heather forced me to stay for the rest of the roping, but I didn’t watch. I folded my hands, bowed my head, and prayed for the torture to end.
“Let’s go.” I stood, worming my way out of the stands and marching toward the parking lot.
“Hey, you came,” Isaac called, wearing a huge grin while strutting toward us.
“Hey, Isaac. You were amaz—” Heather started to praise him.
But before she could step closer and stroke his animal-abusing ego, I grabbed his shirt and shoved him. “You are a cruel, heinous person, Isaac Cory. A brutal barbarian!” I punched his arm.
“Stop!” He grabbed my wrists. “What the hell?”
I tried to wriggle out of his hold, but it was futile.
“Um, you know the saying ‘it’s not my first rodeo’?” Heather asked Isaac. “Well, this is Sarah’s first rodeo, and she’s not a fan of roping.”
I kicked his shin, and he released me. It wasn’t just the baby cow; it was everything that had happened.
“Let’s go, Heather.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her against her will.
“Sarah, it’s a sport.” She laughed.
“You’re taking me home.” I yanked her arm a little harder as she resisted me.
“I’ll take her home.” Isaac’s boots scuffed along the gravel toward us.
“Uh …” Heather looked at me with wide eyes.
“No. You’re taking me. We’re going now.”
“Go, Heather. I’ve got this. I need to have a little chat with my future sister-in-law.” He hooked an arm around my waist.
“Are you sure?” She. Asked. HIM!
It was as if I didn’t exist. Eighteen years of friendship and she abandoned me.
“No! Let go of me.”
With a shrug and a wrinkled nose, Heather backed away from us. “Call me later.”
“Heather!” I yelled as Isaac tossed me over his shoulder, manhandling me behind the stands, where nobody made any attempt to rescue me.
“Put me down!” I kicked.
“Stop it,” Isaac said, swatting my butt.
Did he just spank me?
When we reached his truck and horse trailer, he set me on my feet. I pounded my fists against his chest as he backed me into the passenger’s door while restraining me by holding my wrists and pressing them to my chest.
“Sunday Morning, I’m a little on edge because I need a fucking cigarette, but I quit. Now you’re throwing a childish tantrum over a calf that’s perfectly fine. Ya gotta cut me a little slack.”
I hated his close proximity because as badly as I wanted to hurt him the way he hurt the baby cow, I felt intoxicated by his musky scent laced with leather and dirt. I never thought leather and dirt would smell good. But it did on Isaac—so did his calloused hands wrapped around my wrists, his gaze pointed at my mouth, and the heat of his body so close to mine.
My labored breaths slowed. “Why did you quit smoking?” I whispered.
“You know why. ”
I slowly shook my head.
“The problem is, I need something to occupy my lips if I can’t have a cigarette between them.” He lowered his head until his nose brushed my hair and his lips feathered across my forehead.
It paralyzed me with warring emotions and conflicting physical responses. Matt made me feel secure, but Isaac made the ground shake under my feet, leaving me unsure if I would fall or fly.
“I love Matt,” I whispered while my eyes drifted shut. It was a terrible defense I clung to because the truth made me feel like a sinner. My head swam more than it had after that drink on Easter Sunday.
“I do too,” Isaac murmured, dragging his lips down my cheek to the corner of my mouth. “So we should stop.” He ghosted his lips over mine without kissing me.
My heart didn’t merely race like someone startling me. It exploded.
I couldn’t move—not my lips, not any other part of my body. I would not cheat on Matt. And I definitely wouldn’t do it by kissing his brother. Still, I didn’t want Isaac to stop whatever he was doing. Of course , we should have stopped. It was the smart thing to do, but I wasn’t valedictorian. Was it fair to ask a girl with barely one toe into adulthood and a 3.2 GPA to make the smart decision?
My B-average mind went to work, sorting through my sins and trying to list my indiscretions in order from least to most offensive. Letting Isaac touch me like that was kind of wrong, but I wasn’t married to Matt, so was it cheating in a biblical sense? (Of course, it was.) Then again, I had sex with Matt, and that wasn’t right in God’s eyes. And it had to be worse than letting Isaac’s lips brush against mine. Right ?
Bottom line: there was no denying that I’d been up to no good on more than one occasion. I just didn’t know if I would feel more remorse for disappointing Matt or disobeying God. The effects of the former felt more immediate.
“I won’t kiss you until you ask me to,” Isaac whispered against my lips.
I was paralyzed, even though his hands were no longer gripping my wrists because they were undoing two buttons on my blouse. His lips trailed down my neck without kissing a single inch of my skin.
Neck.
Shoulder.
Chest.
And then his mouth hovered over the swell of my breast where his name hadn’t completely faded.
Isaac was marking me again, only this time, it was invisible. But sometimes, the things we couldn’t see made a deeper impact and the most permanent mark. It was an out-of-body experience. I couldn’t control my reaction to him any more than I could control the weather.
When my senses returned, I pressed my hands to his chest and made him take a step back while shaking my head. “This is a terrible idea.” I buttoned my shirt with shaky hands. “Your brother and our families are expecting a wedding in the future. I work for your parents. And your family owns the house that my family can’t afford every month. But that’s okay with your dad because he’s willing to overlook a few missed rent payments from his pastor and future daughter-in-law.” As much as it pained me, I lifted my gaze to his.
Isaac rubbed his lips together while tucking his fingers into his back pockets .
I cleared my throat. “I think you’ll live longer if you go back to torturing baby animals and smoking and stay as far away from me as possible. Your dad will be less likely to threaten you with a shotgun.”
He seemed to think about my words before the corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re not a calf. I’m not chasing you with a rope. Just the opposite. I’m trying to free you. You’re too big for this little town. You’re a wanderer with dreams too vast to walk a straight line. I’m not trying to steal you from God or Matty. Although, if you’re a Bible enthusiast, one of those two men loves you unconditionally, forgives all of your sins, and has given you the freedom to make your own decisions. The other one wants you barefoot and pregnant while he sprints after his own dreams. And for the record, that shotgun story is bullshit.” He reached past me and opened my door.
Isaac’s words, as far-fetched as they were, made my cheeks fill with heat. It was like a switch flipped. Isaac was right; I didn’t know how to walk a straight line. And I knew I would never let it get out of control, the way I knew my heart wasn’t ready to surrender to a life with Matt. But I couldn’t deny the power and confidence I felt around Isaac because he wanted me, and I wanted a part of him, even though I didn’t know what that was.
“What do you mean the shotgun story is BS?”
“Don’t worry about it. Get in.”
“If you didn’t want me to worry about it, you shouldn’t have said it.”
He gave me a challenging expression with a hint of a grin. “Get in the fucking truck.”
“Fine, Satan.” I smirked, climbing into his fucking truck.
As hard as I tried, my confidence paled in comparison to his. I was all talk while Isaac had real-life experience. That unavoidable fact was cemented into my brain as he adjusted himself.
“Fuck, Sunday Morning. You’re making my dick hard by calling me Satan. I might have to say a few extra prayers at church this Sunday.”
I fastened my seat belt, focusing on my hands instead of his crotch.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” I said. It was a weak comeback. I had a lot of practice to do, but we had all summer.
We. Had. All. Summer.
He shut the door and drove me home. We didn’t talk; instead, we listened to the radio, and I sang along. Isaac grinned, occasionally shooting me a sidelong glance, but I pretended not to see it.
“Don’t pull into the driveway,” I said as we approached my mailbox.
Isaac stopped the truck on the gravel road, just slightly off to the side, and shoved it into Park . “Are you playing my guitar tonight?”
“Yes.” I unbuckled.
“Good. Lock your bedroom door and play it naked.”
I swallowed hard, but that’s all the reaction—the satisfaction—I gave him. “And why is that?” I laughed it off, reaching for the door handle.
“Because I want to think about something of mine pressed to your naked body, giving you pleasure.”
Jesus … Sorry, God. I mean gee whiz.
“Is that so? Well, you can think of your brother between my legs when he gets home tomorrow.” I hopped out of the truck on said shaky legs, feigning confidence, shocked that those words came out of my mouth.
Isaac barked a laugh. “I said something of mine giving you pleasure. We know Matty’s not doing that.”
All the blood in my body surged up my neck and spread across my face as I slammed the door and marched toward my driveway.
Don’t look back.
Don’t look back.
Don’t look ? —
I looked back.
He had his window rolled down, hat tipped low, but not low enough to hide his smile. “Sunday Morning, God will forgive you for what you’re about to do.”