Chapter Seventeen
Things settle into an amicable rhythm over the next few weeks as the guys learn to navigate our relationship and each other. While they work on that, I slowly work on opening myself up more.
Local deliveries become a regular occurrence, and I look forward to them. Slowly but surely, the places I visit come back to life. I didn’t notice it at first. It was Jackie who pointed it out, and once she did, I couldn’t help but look for color everywhere I went.
I spend more time in town, in a conscious effort to make myself seen so people can form their own opinions about me instead of listening to the rumor mill.
An unexpected side effect was finding myself with dozens more female clients who suddenly wanted more than they had.
I guess the land wasn’t the only thing that had been rotting since I left.
People, women in particular, often found themselves blamed for every issue in their relationships.
Dawn was not the only person in a volatile marriage, with abuse running the gamut from gaslighting and emotional abuse to financial and physical abuse.
Nobody mentioned sexual abuse, but I had my suspicions about a few.
These people reminded me of my father and Austin’s dad, throwbacks from a different time, when women were nothing but accessories.
I don’t know if it was a ranch hand thing or a hunter thing, because if I had to guess, I’d say some of the local assholes came from the hunter bloodline.
Or perhaps they were just dickheads. Either way, I treated those to my special line of karma products.
Cheaters suddenly couldn’t get it up anymore, wife beaters found themselves in chronic pain daily, and assholes who couldn’t keep nasty thoughts inside their heads kept getting horrendous pus-filled throat infections, making it impossible to talk.
Yeah, there was definitely some rot in the core of this place, but I was determined to help where I could.
It wasn’t all bad. Some of the complaints had been women wanting their men to pay them more attention or wanting to feel more attractive. All these were easy fixes for me. I could make those potions with my eyes closed.
People either loved me or hated me, but nobody could prove I was doing anything wrong. It was all just a coincidence. Of course, the results spoke for themselves, and I now had the townspeople wanting not just a multitude of products, but hand-delivery of them.
Dawn offered to deliver some herself, but I wasn’t sure she was up to running into Porter, though it would inevitably happen at some point. He’d come to the ranch most days, but managed to slip away before the cops came. I have to assume he has a CB radio to monitor them like I do.
When I’m out and about, Porter leaves the ranch alone in favor of stalking me.
I make sure I take photos or videos, slowly building evidence against the man in case he decides to make a play for Hannah.
I’d seen him four times since the bar. He looked worse and had become more and more belligerent, thanks to the little supplement in his creamer.
And though the creamer might have long been consumed, the effects were permanent.
Nobody would know I’d had a hand in it. All anyone would see was an angry old man slowly unraveling.
I can’t lie, the satisfaction I got was a thing of beauty.
It wouldn’t kill him, of course, that would be far too easy.
I had plans for him, and losing his mind was just the first step.
The next was to take everything that meant anything to him.
By a lovely twist of fate, I was almost there now—having the ranch, Dawn, and Hannah under my care.
The only kink in my plan was the asshat Derek Andrews.
He’d taken to popping up everywhere, but he never engaged.
He’d watch me with all the loathing of a man wanting to kill, but he never approached me.
I could feel his eyes following me everywhere I went.
I kept my guard up because I knew the second I dropped it, he’d be there, ready to make his move.
Porter might be predictable, but Derek was the wild card.
I didn’t know him well enough to anticipate his next move.
Today had been the first time I’d come to town and not seen either of them, so I was making the most of it while it lasted.
We’d opted for lunch at the bar. Jackie was at the ranch with Dawn and Hannah.
She has a soft spot for them. Dawn was happy for me to drag Riggs along today, comfortable with Christian and the other ranch hands being nearby if Porter approached.
“So,” Riggs begins once the food arrives. “What’s next on the agenda for the day?”
“I’m pretty easy now I’ve made my deliveries, though I really do need to put up an ad for another assistant. Online sales, in particular, are insane. It’s a lot for Dawn to keep up with.”
“They have those noticeboards outside the town hall. See if they’d let you advertise there. I saw a few other leaflets there the other week, looking for seasonal workers.”
“Alright. No harm in trying. What about you?”
“I’ve ordered most of what I need online. It should be arriving in the next few days. Could do with going to the grocery store, though, for some odds and ends.”
“You good to go there while I head to the library? I want to pick up a few books for Hannah.”
He looks at me, and I can see him fighting the urge to tell me no, but he knows the worst thing he can do is smother me. “Sure. Meet you back at the truck?”
“Deal.” I lean over the table as he does the same and kiss him, ignoring the nosy people watching us. “I love you.”
He shakes his head, a grin on his face. “Now? Now you tell me when I can’t just bend you over the table and fuck you?”
I wink. “Something for me to look forward to.”
“You’re the devil, woman. But fuck, I love you too.” He pecks my lips again before straightening. “I won’t be long.”
“I have my cell anyway. If I can’t find you, I’ll call.”
“Alright. And if Porter shows up, call Shepard. I know you can handle him, but don’t give him the satisfaction. Besides, I quite enjoy watching Shepard carting him away in cuffs.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Hmm…I like that.”
“Behave.”
He grins before standing up. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”
He throws some money on the table before I can protest, and then he heads out. I shake my head and sip my drink, feeling full from my burger but contemplating ice cream anyway because…well, it’s ice cream.
The door opens, and a willowy blonde walks in.
I think nothing of it until she makes a beeline straight for me.
“Hi, you’re Calliope, right?” She’s younger than me by ten years easily, and she has that happy, preppy look about her that tells me she’s never known a day of hardship.
Not that I’ll hold that against her. If anything, I’m envious.
“I am. Can I help you with something?”
“I hope so. I’m Sarah, by the way. Sarah Collison. I’m helping to organize the summer festival, and I was hoping you’d like to be a part of it.”
I indicate for her to take Riggs’s seat. “What would you need from me?”
“Well, we’d like to have a street market kind of vibe with food and crafts people want to sell.
Lorna Sutton makes the most beautiful pieces of pottery, and Joan Evans makes award-winning jellies and jams. I hoped you might like to do a stall for your creams and tinctures. You can say no, of course—”
“I’d love to.”
Her eyes widen in shock. “Really?”
“Sure. I’m a part of this town too, and I’m happy to give back. In fact, I can have Riggs do a food stall, too. Burgers, dogs, pulled pork, maybe some BBQ brisket, that kind of thing. What do you think?”
“Are you serious? That would be amazing. Most people have been nice and want to help, but times have been hard, and wanting to help isn’t quite the same as being able to.”
“That’s true. Is there anything else I can help with?”
“That’s sweet. Everyone was so worried about me approaching you, and I have no idea why. I wish everyone were as nice as you.”
I bite back a smile. If she had any idea what I was capable of, she wouldn’t think I was sweet. “Are people being mean to you?”
She blows out a slow breath, lifting her bangs. “Some of the old timers are just so stuck in their ways. They complain all the time about how everything has gone to hell around here, but they won’t do anything about it.”
“Well, if they fixed the place up, what would they have to complain about?”
She giggles, leaning back in her chair. “I guess that makes sense.”
She looks me over, then bites her lip, seeming unsure about what she wants to say. I wait her out.
“I heard people say that you make things. Things that you can’t get anywhere else.”
“Did they now? And these people, what kind of things did they say I made?”
She flushes, embarrassed, but she leans forward.
“People aren’t gossiping or being mean about you.
I didn’t mean for it to sound that way. I think there might even be a little bit of hero worship going on with some of us.
It’s just so easy to get stuck in a rut and not be able to find your way out of it. ”
“I understand that. Tell me, Sarah, are you stuck in a rut?”
She looks around nervously to make sure nobody is listening.
“All my friends are getting married and having kids, but the truth is, a lot of them are really just settling. I look at them and know most of the couples can barely tolerate each other. When did love become optional in marriage? I don’t understand, and well, I can’t talk to them about it because they assume I think I’m better than them. I don’t. I just want more.”