Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-Two
Emerging from the path into my backyard, I swat away the mosquitos circling my head like buzzards locked on a juicy carcass and start the arduous process of removing twigs from my hair. I’d been in such a numb daze on the walk back that I’d run into several low-lying branches as I stumbled my way home.
I’m still so out of it that I’ve already dragged myself up my porch steps before I notice that my front door is cracked open. I must’ve forgotten to close and lock it before setting off for Divine Mercy… Not that it matters. There are no creepy notes or egg cartons full of seedlings inside. No Dad. No brother. No signs of life. The house is cold and empty, like it always is.
It takes me thirty minutes to load the back of my truck with my belongings, and another thirty to shower and put on clean clothes. When a light rain starts, I stop in the kitchen to make a sandwich but end up just staring at it until a fly lands on the crust.
I’m not hungry. Or sad. Or angry. I’m not anything.
In a way, I feel like the withered pepper plants I tore out of my garden this morning. After a summer of neglect, their leaves were brown, their branches shriveled inward in a last-ditch effort to stay alive—but the truth of the matter is they’ve been dying for weeks. Me ripping them from the earth only solidified the inevitable. Today’s revelation about my mother didn’t kill my relationship with my dad and brother, it was just the final nail in the coffin.
Sluggishly, I turn toward my vibrating phone on the counter, my eyes widening when I read the caller ID and swipe right.
“Mrs. Crowe?” I breathe out. “What’s wrong? Is Old Man Dan okay?”
“Hello to you too, sweet pea. That’s actually what I was calling about.” She sucks in a wet breath, and my broken heart drops onto the floor. I close my eyes, bracing myself for more bad news.
“Daniel woke up today,” she says, voice cracking as a relieved sob escapes her lips.
“That’s fantastic,” I choke out. “Is he—” I hesitate, unsure how to phrase the question. “Is he himself ?”
“I think so. Talking is a little difficult, and he doesn’t quite have control of his motor skills yet. But he’s been demanding to be released from the hospital, so I’m taking that as a good sign.” I can almost hear her smile through the phone, and that eases something deep in my soul—at least until she adds, “Your dad called me.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I reply automatically, throwing my internal shutters back into place now that I know Old Man Dan is alright.
“Then you can listen,” Elanor spits hotly. “I didn’t know about Annalee, but you can best believe I laid into Joel for keeping that from us. I also want you to know that I support you going to UT. It’s a major accomplishment to get into a school like that, and I’ll expect you at the house I’m renting at least once a week for dinner. If your grades start slipping, it will be five times a week.”
My body trembles. “You’re staying in Austin?”
“Yes, sweet pea. I am. The specialized care Daniel will need once he’s medically cleared is only available here, and I want to be as close as possible. It’s why I expedited the sale of the ranch—so we could afford his treatment and I could get a little place of my own.” There’s a beep on the other end of the line that sounds like hospital equipment and some rustling. Then she says, “The place is small, but there’s a guest bed with your name on it. Feel free to be at the house as often as you please.”
A dry sob escapes my lips, bringing a little life back into my stiff limbs. “I’ll be there every day.”
“Now, now. Maybe not every day ,” Elanor chides. “A woman needs her space, after all.”
“Okay, every other day, then,” I say through a wet laugh. “God, I’m so relieved. I thought you were going to say I should stay in Deadwood.”
There’s a long pause before she clears her throat. “No, dear. Unlike your father, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
The hackles on my neck rise. “Why do you say that?”
“Well… When Daniel woke up, he said the last thing he remembered was a man-sized figure with horns emerging from the woods. Then BAM , lights out. I’m not sure how much credence we can give to the ravings of a concussed man, but if that’s what caused him to fall from his saddle, I don’t think it’s safe in Deadwood anymore.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Maybe it never was.”
After hanging up with Elanor, I leave my phone on my bed and wait for the rain to stop before grabbing my pistol and heading out to the ranch. I don’t bother holstering the gun, instead keeping it at the low ready, muzzle aimed at the ground the way Dad taught me.
My chest hollows at the memories of all the hours we tooled around at the gun range. After today’s revelations, I doubt we’ll ever have another carefree afternoon under the sun again…
As quickly as the hollow feeling rises, it drifts away on the humid wind, replaced by the cathartic numbness currently keeping me upright.
It takes me an hour to walk to where Old Man Dan fell, and by the time I’ve finished scouring the surrounding woods for this mysterious horned creature, the sun is low in the sky and the cicadas are so loud I can barely hear myself think.
Sweat drips down my back as I listen to their oppressive shrill, the pulse in my ears falling in step with their erratic song until I think my head will explode. Holstering my weapon, I untie the bandana from around my neck and wipe my forehead and chest.
What the hell was I thinking coming out here? Did I really think I was going to shoot whatever this thing is? What if it turned out to be a person? I can only imagine how that’d go over in court.
“Well, you see, Your Honor, I came out here to kill a wild beast and accidentally killed a man…”
Thank God I didn’t actually find anything.
Groaning, I retie the bandana around my neck and head home as the sun bleeds out on the horizon. Darkness falls quickly, and the walk back takes twice as long, the ghosts of the once bustling ranch haunting my every step with their silence. When my house finally comes into view, there are two shadows in the driveway. I recognize the broad shoulders of the first as Ryker and the Stetson on the second as my father.
“Of course I still have the original report,” Dad says as I inch along the fence line. “I’d always hoped your brother would change his mind. But this is a bad idea, son. It’s not going to go the way you think. Seeing you up there with Kane today has me questioning your ability to be rational right now.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Ryker replies with a shake of his head. “I’m out of options and it’s too late to turn back now.”
Dad reaches for the cuffs on his utility belt, the unsaid threat clear as day.
My brow creases. Why would he have a problem with Ryker convincing Kane to press charges against Beau? Wouldn’t he want to help?
Ryker leans forward, fists clenched and voice dangerously low. “Mr. Dunn, I came to you because there is not a man alive I respect more, but so help me God, if you get in the way of me protecting my sister, I will go through you. No matter the cost.”
Dad sucks his teeth. “I’d like to see you try, son .”
Tension vibrates through the air like a rubber band about to snap. And even though I can see what’s about to happen, I can’t find the motivation to stop it… Then again, maybe there’s a part of me that wants to see Ryker put my father on his ass.
A low rumbling sound emanates from Dad’s chest before he turns on his heel and heads for the cruiser.
“Mr. Dunn,” Ryker calls out. “Where are you going? I need an answer.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Dad tosses over his shoulder. “I’ll be at the fucking office when you come to your senses.”
The door slams and the cruiser speeds off toward town, the red glow of its tail lights disappearing into the night, leaving Ryker standing alone in the driveway.
“Fuck!” he shouts into the blue-black sky, then he’s ripping out a pack of smokes from his pocket and lighting one up.
I flinch when the flame sparks in the darkness, but in addition to my vision swimming and my knees locking up, there’s an inexplicable urge to chase that tiny ember of trepidation flaring to life inside my chest. After the day I’ve had, this pulse-pounding, sweat-dripping-down-my-back rush of terror almost feels good .
Apparently, when you’re afraid, there’s no room to feel anything else.
I take a step forward, breath hitching as the tip of Ryker’s cigarette glows bright orange, surprised to find that instead of running, my first instinct is to draw closer.
“I thought you said you were quitting?” I ask from only a few feet away.
“Fucking hell.” Ryker jumps, the contents of his hands spilling onto the gravel.
I shuffle over, tobacco flooding my senses as I scoop up his silver boot-shaped lighter and the lit cigarette. Again, fear flickers to life inside me, warm and alluring as I place one in his hand and the other between his waiting fingers.
“I told you I was cutting back, not quitting.” He takes a long drag before stomping it out on the ground. “Sorry.”
I shrug, but with my pulse already slowing, the movement is limp. “Is Charlie still here?”
Ryker shakes his head. “Left with a social worker an hour ago.” I think he tries to force a smile, but it’s too dark to tell. “Should we go inside?”
When I glance over my shoulder to the vacant house, my vision is warped, almost like everything is underwater. “I don’t want to be here if my dad or brother decide to come back.”
Ryker grabs my hand, his rough palm scraping against mine as he leads me across the yard and says, “I know a place.”
I should ask where we’re going, especially since that’s the exact phrase he used before taking Noah and me to the water tower on the Fourth of July, but why bother when anywhere is better than going home?
Neither of us speaks while we make our way onto the Crowes’ property, and he doesn’t let go of my hand until we’re standing in front of the dark, empty bunkhouse. I swallow the lump in my throat at the unfamiliar sight before me. No matter the time of day, this building was always full of music, chaos, and laughter, now it’s cold and silent. A vacant shell.
Crouching down, Ryker turns over several rocks I can barely see next to the door.
“ Ah-ha ,” he exhales, rising to his feet to shove a dirt-caked key into the lock.
After a brief struggle, the door swings open and he leads me inside by the small of my back. My nose wrinkles as I breathe in the stale air that still reeks of musky cologne and sweat-stiffened Wranglers.
It takes a second for my eyes to adjust after Ryker flips on a light, but when they do, I’m greeted by a yellow oak kitchen on my left and a decent sized living room off to the right, where the faint outline of couches and recliners are still imprinted on the faded-red wool rug someone forgot to pack with the rest of the Crowes’ belongings.
Confusion creases my brow, and it takes me a second to realize why. “There wasn’t any flooding in here?”
“Nope. All the buildings on the property are connected to the same water and sewage line, but only the big house was affected,” Ryker says with disgust. He gestures to a hallway with several doors on the opposite end of the living room. “Kane plans on moving some of his people into the bunk rooms as soon as he takes ownership of the ranch. You do the math.”
The implication of his statement hangs heavily in the air between us until he clears his throat and points to a single door off the far end of the kitchen. “The foreman’s quarters are through there. There’s also access to a little room in the attic that way.”
I lift a quizzical brow.
“I spent a few nights here when I was a teenager,” he offers by way of explanation before reaching out and sliding his palm up and down my arm. “Are you alright?”
I stare at him, a sliver of guilt worming its way through my numbness at the worry in his moss-green eyes. “No, not really. Are you?”
“No,” he says with a far-off look. “Definitely not. I’m so close to getting everything I’ve ever wanted, but I feel like I’m free-falling. I’ve got one chance to pull the cord and get this right, but one wrong move, one tiny fuck up, and I’ll lose everything.”
My head jerks back as I stare at him. I’ve grown so used to Dad and Noah bottling everything up, I didn’t actually expect him to answer.
“What?” he asks, narrowing his eyes with a small tilt of his chin.
“Nothing,” I reply after a moment or two. “That’s just eerily similar to how I’m feeling.”
“Is that right? You fallin’ right alongside me, Princess?” Ryker’s mouth quirks up on the side. “In that case, want to hold hands on the way down? I hear it’s an awfully nice view… ”
Despite the pressure on my chest, I can’t help but roll my eyes. “I said I feel similar , not exactly the same. You’re afraid of losing the people you love. I’m afraid of losing myself.”
“What do you mean?” His thumb brushes over my hip bone as he reaches for me.
“All summer, I’ve been teetering on the edge of a cliff with all these lies and secrets pushing me closer and closer to the precipice. I’m terrified I’m about to topple over and take you down with me.”
“I’d go willingly.” The corner of his mouth ticks up again. “But I’d never let you fall.”
The crazy thing is, I believe him. Ryker has an uncanny ability of knowing what I need and where my limits are. If I plummeted over the edge, I have every confidence he’d be right there to drag me back up. The problem is, he has more than enough to worry about without adding my issues to the mix.
I fold my arms across my chest and glance toward the door. Maybe I should leave for Austin before I ruin his life the same way I apparently did my family’s.
Before he has a chance to let me down like everyone else...
“Don’t,” Ryker says gruffly, snaking his arm around my waist. “Whatever you’re thinking right now… Don’t. You’re the only thing in my life that makes sense. I won’t let you fall, Princess. I promise. Just tell me what you need.”
My lip quivers. “Just don’t do what they did—don’t lie or keep things from me. Not to protect my feelings. Not because you’re scared of what I might think… I can handle anything except that.”
“I won’t,” he says earnestly, eyes clinging to mine.
I want to believe him, I do believe him, but I’m also so brittle right now I need to make sure he fully understands. “I’m serious. Even a lie of omission?—”
Before I can finish, Ryker’s lips crash into mine, soft yet possessive, as he forces a breath of life back into my dormant lungs. “I promise I won’t lie to you,” he whispers. “But you can’t shut me out when you don’t like the answer. No matter what happens, it’s you and me.”
“I won’t shut you out. I promise.”
I sigh when his fingers thread through my hair, my pulse picking up as he walks me backward and abruptly spins me around so that my ass is pressed against his groin.
A shiver rakes up my spine as he slowly drags my shirt over my head before wrapping his arm around my waist. “Good, because there’s something else we need to talk about,” he whispers against the soft skin behind my ear.