The Rival

Chapter Fourteen

HESHOULDBEgrateful that she had run off. He thought that multiple times over the course of the day, but right around lunchtime, it started to get harder to ignore the fact that he wasn’t grateful at all.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her.

He’d wanted her to understand, sure.

He’d felt like she wasn’t listening, like she didn’t understand, and hell, he had a stake in that. He hadn’t explained. So he’d decided to explain.

He hadn’t thought she’d run away.

In truth, he hadn’t thought that she had it in her to run away. She had proved that she was such a stubborn little cuss, he had imagined that she would offer to build a wall or something to keep the grave area private.

He certainly hadn’t imagined that she would look like she wanted to burst into tears. But that was exactly how she’d looked. And so he found himself doing something he’d never done before. He went down the main highway, and when he saw the sign over the big wide dirt road that read Four Corners, he turned right onto that road.

There was a sign right up front that said King’s Crest. And then there was Garrett’s Watch. McCloud’s Landing. And a few minutes later, he saw a sign with directions to Sullivan’s Point.

He turned, heading toward what he knew was Quinn’s domain.

The site of the white ranch house surprised him. It was pretty and pristine, a big green yard out front, with glorious weeping willows all around. There was a large fenced-in garden with barricades tall enough to keep deer out.

It was a beautiful place. It really was its own world, though, and he could see how people got lost in it. How it became the only thing. Hell, if he lived in a place like this, he might feel that way, too.

It was like a house from another era. And when the door opened, and a pretty redhead in a long floral dress came out, he really felt like it could be another era.

“Levi Granger.”

The woman tilted her head and gave him a skeptical look.

“You must be Fia Sullivan.”

She smiled. “I am.”

“The older sister.”

“Yes.”

“I came to see if Quinn is here.”

Fia arched a brow. “Why exactly are you looking for my sister, Mr. Granger?”

“Because she left my place very upset this morning, and I wanted to make sure she was all right.”

Fia nodded. “Yes. She came back here very upset. So you can see that I’m not altogether amenable to the idea of giving you her location. I want to know what you did to make her upset.”

“I showed her my parents’ graves. Which as it happens is right off the road that you want to use. So it was part of the discussion. She was unhappy when I showed it to her, and she ran away.”

Fia frowned. “Oh. I’m...I’m sorry to hear about that. Maybe you and I should talk about...”

“I just want to talk to Quinn.”

Fia nodded. “She’s out back.”

She gestured around the side of the house, and he walked to the backyard.

Where he saw her. She was sitting on a swing that hung from a long oak branch. She had on a white dress that billowed around her, her red hair loose. Her feet were bare; it felt notable in the same way her white shoes and socks did.

She was holding a book, clutching it tightly in her grip. He wondered if she was reading or just staring at the pages.

“Hey there.”

She looked up from the book she was reading. He didn’t know what kind of book it was. She liked to read. Just for fun.

He couldn’t imagine that.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you. I didn’t mean to make you that upset.”

Her eyes were round, her cheeks pale. She blinked for a moment, looking at him like he might be an apparition.

“It wasn’t your fault. It was my fault. I was an idiot, Levi. And I’m sorry. I was pushing you and acting like you were dumb. That’s how I was acting. It was. You had reasons, and I refused to see it, and I feel badly about that. And personally responsible for what my father did. I couldn’t handle it.”

“So you ran away?”

“Yes. I did.”

“You only know how to win or retreat?”

“I don’t understand.”

“If you can’t hammer me to death, you don’t know what else to do.”

She lowered her head. “Yeah. Okay. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know the right thing here. And I don’t actually want to try and talk you into something you really don’t want to do. I just thought you were being stubborn and... Yeah, that I was willing to push up against.”

“It’s a whole thing where I’m a human being that has feelings that baffles you?”

She leaned against the rope. “Yes. Because I didn’t consider them.”

“Am I understanding you right, that actually what makes you mad is that you don’t feel like you have the moral high ground anymore?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Well. That’s part of it.”

“So what really bothers you is that you aren’t right.”

“Don’t make it sound like that. That still makes it sound like I’m not very nice.”

“Are you very nice?”

He shouldn’t badger her. Or maybe he should. He didn’t owe this little creature anything. She was the one who had come into his life and put things in relative turmoil. She was the one who had caused all of this. He had just been ranching and minding his own business. He hadn’t asked.

“I want to be nice,” she said. “But I just...care a lot. About everything. When I get into that space I do things sometimes that don’t seem nice because all I can see is the goal.” She looked up at him with glassy eyes. “I never feel mean because I know how much I care. Well, I didn’t used to feel mean. I have recently.”

She felt bad, and he could see it. And worst of all...he related to her. He wondered if they suffered from the same problem. Her life had been singularly devoted to proving herself. And while his had been more practical—he had to do a good job by his siblings—it had hacked limbs off his personal development.

He wondered if her own narrow focus had done the same to her. She’d gone away to college, yes, and she clung to that now like it validated her. So whatever she said about that, and surfers, he wondered if she’d actually been social there at all. Or if her singular mission statement had taken over all of it.

He was pretty sure he could guess.

“I care about the ranch,” she said softly. “I... It has felt easier than caring about other things for a long time, and I feel like my degree is what makes me...important.”

“I don’t care about your degree, carrot.”

“I know you don’t. It’s why you make me so mad. If my degree doesn’t matter to you, then...”

“Here’s the deal,” he said, wondering why the hell he felt compassion for her. “If a degree is all that mattered to me, I’d have to discount my own experiences, right?”

“I suppose.”

“And I’m not doing that. The degree isn’t what makes me think you’re smart. It’s what I’ve seen you do. It’s the amount of care I’ve seen from you as far as the land goes. That’s what matters to me. Come back to the ranch. Take a look at the paperwork.”

“But you said...”

“I have real reservations, Quinn. I was going to tell you unequivocally no. Because of the graves, yes. Because of your father, yes. But also because I’m a control freak. I just got all my control back.”

She nodded, slowly. “I’m not asking for any control. I do promise you that. Everything is still going to be up to you, and if there’s too much traffic, we’ll work something else out.”

“Come back and look at the paperwork.”

“Okay.”

She stood up, and he couldn’t help but notice the way the diaphanous fabric molded to her figure. She was just the prettiest thing.

She paused and slipped some sandals on.

He found he missed the socks.

That thought didn’t belong in this moment. That thought didn’t belong in his head. But it was there all the same.

He resented her for that, too.

Because he hadn’t asked her to come to his ranch.

He hadn’t asked her to come into his life.

He’d said his piece at the meeting in Four Corners and that should have been it. But it wasn’t.

And here he was, inviting her right back after she had run away. He wasn’t really certain what the logic was behind that. He was a little afraid there was no logic behind it.

Except he did have that pile of paperwork. And the idea of doing it really did bother him.

And he really did need Camilla to go back to school.

She walked back to the truck with him.

“I’ll give you a ride over there,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Come on.”

As they were getting into the truck, Fia came back out on the front porch.

“I’m fine,” Quinn called.

“Good,” said Fia. “And you’re going back to the ranch?”

“Yes,” they both confirmed.

“Okay.” Fia narrowed her eyes, and he could see the question there. Could see that Fia was wondering about ulterior motives.

He didn’t have any.

He ignored the tightening of his gut when he looked at Quinn. He didn’t.

Quinn basically melted into the seat when they got back on the road.

And he could only stare at her. She was a funny little thing. All wound up and passionate all the time. And that moment of not feeling certainty had really done something to her.

She was fascinating. And he couldn’t recall ever being fascinated by another person before.

“Thanks for giving me the chance to do this,” she said. “After everything. After I was a dick to you.”

He laughed. “Yeah. You were.”

“You were playing a game with me, though.”

“I admit it.”

“Yeah. I know you did. I’m just saying.”

“You’re just justifying,” he said.

“Maybe.”

“Quinn Sullivan, you are kind of a brat.”

She huffed a laugh. “Not the first time I’ve heard that, oddly.”

And then he remembered what she’d said about her dad, and he knew a moment’s guilt, which was sort of a novelty.

“If your dad left because you are the way you are, he’s a dick. Just so we’re clear.”

“I am totally aware that my dad is a dick,” said Quinn.

“I mean, we all are. I just wanted to make sure I said it. My dad loved us, loved my mom, loved this land until it put him into the ground. Do you understand that? He loved my mother so much that when she died, his heart was never the same again. He literally died of a broken heart. And we were a ragtag group of imperfect people. He loved us like that anyway. He’s still here, even though he’s gone, you know? Because that’s how much he loved us. That’s how much he loved this place. So yeah, if your dad could leave because you are a stubborn cuss, he’s no kind of man, in my opinion. And definitely no kind of father.”

He looked over at her and saw that she was staring at him. She had the oddest look on her face. Her expression sharpened and incredulous.

“What? Has anyone ever said that to you before?”

“No. Maybe because I never said to anybody what I said to you.”

“Why did you say it?”

“I don’t know.”

He was happy enough to leave it there. Because he could well understand saying and doing things you couldn’t explain. He felt like all the last few days were that for him. Why the hell he had indulged her for even five seconds was kind of beyond him. Not something he could wholly grasp. And then they pulled up to the house, and he was saved from his own thoughts.

They opened the doors at the same time and got out, and she followed him up to the house.

“Do I need to take my shoes off?” she asked, looking down at the pile of shoes by the door.

“No. You know, I think Jessie still has shoes there. And Dylan, for that matter. He hasn’t been home since Christmas.”

His younger brother was a whole thing. Loud and brash and filled with bravado. Which he supposed wasn’t actually bravado, since he went out and risked his life every day in service of the country.

Dylan had definitely changed in the years since he joined the military. He had been idealistic at first. And had behaved like he thought he was bulletproof. And every year, there’d been a little less of both those things. Every year, it had become more and more obvious that he had seen things. That he questioned things.

But Levi still respected the hell out of what his brother was doing. Even while it terrified him.

“That’s just...a dumping ground, then?”

“Yeah. You know, the house was new and we thought maybe we’d keep it all nice, but we did have too much living to do in here.”

“Right. Has Camilla gone back to school yet?”

“Not yet. She has until the end of the week. But she needs to get gone. And frankly, having you up here in the office will go a long way in getting her there.”

“I really will just help.”

“Why?”

“We’ve gotten to know each other, and now I just kind of want to. What you did for your siblings is a big deal. I want your sister to go finish college. I don’t want her to just stay here.”

“Like me, you mean?”

He waited a beat, and saw as shame flooded her cheeks. “That isn’t what I meant. It’s not.”

“It’s okay. You can say it. You think an education is necessary for someone to be qualified.”

“No, that’s not it. I am afraid to have...nothing to fall back on. No credentials. My dad left and my mom fell apart. I wanted to make sure that I was more than that. More than a marriage or a vague connection to something. That I had something I could take with me wherever I went. And I didn’t know how else to make sure of it. I wanted to make sure that I was more than what I became when my dad left. Specifically.”

“And what was that?” Maybe he shouldn’t be curious about that, but he was.

Curious about what Brian had done to her.

“Angry. So angry that I thought I was going to implode from it. So angry that I thought I’d explode. And I nearly did, quite a few times. I was just running around venting all of it on other people, and it wasn’t fair. I was so mean. Just so toxic, all because of him. And I needed there to be more to me than that. I needed something that made me...that proved to me that I was qualified, I guess. Because why? When you lose the foundation of that, you do question everything.”

He nodded slowly. “You know, I lost my parents, too, but in a way that made me feel more certain that this was where I needed to be. They died working this land. And I know that I want to do the same.”

“Maybe the difference is the way they left it. Like you said, your dad died of a broken heart. That was how much he didn’t want to lose what he had. My dad ran from his life. He chose to leave it. To leave us. All I could see were broken dreams, and I never wanted to be in that space. Where everything that I worked for didn’t matter anymore because of the decisions of somebody else. I wanted to know why I did what I did. Why I lived the life I lived. I wanted to know why I chose the life I chose.

“It was really important to me. To know that. And I do now. I went and I learned all about ranching, and I made my choice, not my birthright. And that changed things for me. It did. I’m not sure if it makes any sense to you. But I promise you it isn’t about looking down on you still being here. It’s about understanding why sometimes you need to make sure that you know why you ended up where you did. So that a life doesn’t choose you, but you choose it.”

They were such strange words to him, because he’d never had that opportunity. He’d never even really thought about it. His life was his birthright. And that was it.

And really, in many ways it was a good thing, because what the hell would he have had if not for this land? If not for this land, Quinn would probably be working in a high-rise office building somewhere. She would probably be a city girl. Or not. But she had an array of options in front of her. Because she had gone to school, and she had gotten a degree. She had done well for herself. He was just a guy who could barely read. He would probably be doing work that was twice as hard for half the pay if he didn’t have this land.

Things had to be rough for him. That was just the honest truth.

He didn’t feel burdened by this land. It was a gift to him.

But he wondered, if the land wasn’t there for Quinn, how different her life would be.

“Come on upstairs.” They started up the stairs, and he led her down the hardwood-floor hallway, to the office door. And he felt a little ashamed, actually. The idea of showing her this place where he worked, which was an absolute disaster and was probably much worse off than she could ever imagine, made him hesitate.

It reminded him of school, quite frankly. He didn’t like it.

But he opened up the door anyway.

“Come on in.”

There were papers everywhere, and he quickly moved to the computer, leaned over and turned off the accessibility feature that he always used. He didn’t want to start talking to her.

There was admitting that he was messing with her, and kind of exposing the way that he felt about her degree snobbery, and then there was letting her in on the extent of his own issues, and he didn’t let anybody in on that.

“Okay, Quinn. Here it is.”