Chapter 25 #2
He’s sizing me up, and I know there’s no way I measure up.
Even on my best days, I’m a dirty, rough cowboy who smells like cow shit.
Today, I’ve been sweating my balls off in a barn with cowboys who smoke like chimneys, cows that shit where they please, and I think I spilled some of my beer on my shirt when Emily first called.
Keith Cole is a little over six feet tall, but beneath his Carhartt T-shirt and pants, he’s lean muscle.
His hair is dirty blond shot through with gray at the temples, and he’s got a matching blond-gray goatee and mustache.
His eyes are bright blue and laser-locked on me.
I can see the resemblance with Erica in those eyes—not the color, of course, but in that fiery spark.
He might not be her nature, but he’s her nurture through and through.
I hold my hand out. “Brody Tannen.”
He shakes my hand, squeezing a little too hard. “Keith Cole. And again, who are you?”
“So good of you to come,” Janice interrupts, also making a move to hug me.
“You know him?” Keith asks Janice, who shrugs and doesn’t look the least bit sorry.
“We met at the farmer’s market.”
That seems like a lifetime ago, even though only a couple of months have passed.
Jerry comes over, offering me a hand and interrupting the third-degree interrogation Keith is ready to launch. “Hey, Brody. Our girl’s gonna be just fine, you hear? She’s a tough one, that Rix.”
Keith’s back goes ramrod straight, and I try to imagine what he’s going through right now. I knew Erica was racing, knew that there were inherent dangers, but I trusted that she would do everything to mitigate those. But sometimes, shit still happens.
Sometimes, the good ones, the ones who deserve to stay around the longest, leave too soon, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.
Keith didn’t know Erica’s been racing. He got side-swiped with a double-whammy tonight—that his daughter’s been hiding something from him and that she got hurt doing it. And then here I come, strutting in like I belong here, and he’s never even heard my name.
“What happened?” I ask Jerry.
He tells me about Todd’s nitro going wrong and fire shooting out from under the hood.
He tells me about Erica pulling Todd out of the car, and I shake my head at her brave stupidity.
It’s not that I want to hold her back, but I can’t help but think she wouldn’t be hurt if she’d let someone else do the dangerous part.
But that’s not who she is. And then he tells me about one last explosion and how Todd shoved Erica to the ground and took the brunt of the flames himself.
The whole racing crew plus Erica’s family listens in, though I suspect this is a repeat of what they’ve already heard.
“Good guy,” I say about Todd, which doesn’t begin to describe how thankful I am for his sacrifice to save Erica from anything worse. Jerry is stone-faced but nods, agreeing. “He okay?”
“Don’t know anything yet, about either of them. Emily’s doctor friend . . .” He trails off, looking toward the door like I did.
As if he conjured it, the doors open and the first thing I see is Dan smiling. He’s pushing a wheelchair . . .
Erica!
“Erica!” I shout as my mouth catches up with my brain. My strides eat the space between us.
She looks like . . . everything. She looks like . . . home. And also, a bit pale and dirty. Her legs are sticking out of scrub pants that have been chopped at the knee, leaving a frayed hem. Her calves and bare feet are wrapped in white gauze.
“Brody, what are you doing here?” she says, and my heart stutters. She doesn’t want me here? But then her eyes flick behind me to Keith, and I realize her hesitation isn’t about me.
“We met. He’s got questions. Later.”
Her arms open, and I hunch over to hug her. “Scared the shit outta me, Lil Bit,” I whisper in her ear.
She smiles big and bold, putting on a front for her audience. “Just another day of racing.”
I see her throat swallow as she looks to Keith. “Dad?”
Janice and Emily are bookending Keith, who’s breathing heavily and turning red. I think seeing that Erica is okay has relieved his initial fears, freeing him up to be angry at the situation he’s been thrust into.
“What the hell is going on? Do I even know you at all, Rix?” Hurt and betrayal thread through the words painfully.
“Of course you do,” Erica says, but she doesn’t sound certain. “I’m a racer, just like you taught me to be.” Better, stronger, and with pride.
Janice jumps in. “What did the doctor say?”
Erica looks to Dan. “Dr. Dan here says I have to keep the burns clean and dressed, and he gave me an antibiotic ointment prescription. I’m on concussion watch, but they don’t think anything’s wrong with my brain that wasn’t already a little bit wrong to begin with.”
Jokes? The woman’s got jokes after something like this?
But I see the fear flashing in her eyes.
More bricks, more walls, more facade. I don’t know why everyone thinks she’s this wild, devil-may-care creature.
On the surface, maybe that’s true. But the truth is, she does everything for everyone else.
Even now, comforting them with humor when we should be comforting her.
“It’s all on my discharge paperwork.” She points at the stack of papers tucked beside her in the wheelchair.
“It’s a little more complicated than that, but Rix has assured me that she’ll be a compliant patient. Right?” Dan prompts, and Erica nods, only a little sarcastically.
“Well, let’s get you home then. I’ll set up your old bed so that you’re comfortable,” Janice says, already mentally making plans to have Erica recover under her motherly care.
“Mom, I want to go home. To my home.”
Janice balks and Keith steps in. “Rix, don’t be silly. We’ll go home, and you can heal while you tell me what the hell’s been going on.” Keith eyes me again, still not having an answer he’s satisfied with. Though I think the greeting and hug between Erica and me made things pretty clear.
Erica looks at me, a question in her eyes.
I blink, answering her easily. Seeing her, touching her, soothes something deep inside, and I’m not ready to drop her off at her parents’ and go to the farm alone.
I thought I’d failed again when I got that call, that she’d left me too.
And I feel like I’m getting a second chance, one I won’t fuck up.
She turns back to her parents. “I’m going home. Brody can take care of me and you can come over in the morning so we can talk everything through.” The no-nonsense, take-no-shit version of Erica is back in full force, leaving no room for compromise.
“Brody is going to take you home?” Keith parrots. “Who is he?” Blunt and straightforward, just like his daughter. “And where the hell is Reed?”
“I’m her boyfriend,” I answer. It’s the closest word I’ve got to describe this thing between Erica and me, even though it feels woefully inadequate.
“Boyfriend.” Not a question, but Keith shakes his head in denial.
Erica’s eyes plead with him. “I want to talk to you about everything, if you’ll listen.”
Janice steps up to Keith’s side, laying a hand on his arm and providing a calming voice of reason. “That’s fine, honey. Brody, if you two need anything at all, you call me right away. Otherwise, we’ll call in the morning to see how you’re feeling before we come over.”
Keith wants to argue, but he stays quiet and stone-faced.
Ed steps forward, addressing Dan. “What about Todd?” I don’t miss the frosty look Keith gives Ed. I figured they’d be friends, but there is no love lost between the two right now, that’s for sure.
Dan looks over his shoulder. “Family only for updates, I’m afraid.” But he winks and gives a thumbs-up, and you can feel the relief work through the crowd. “His family should be here any minute.”
Ed holds up a fist and Erica pounds it. “Damn near scared the speed demon outta me, girl. You’d best get home, and we’ll hold court for Todd until his family gets here.”
“Thanks, Ed. See you Wednesday?” she says, and the answering silence is deafening. “Too soon?” she says, laughing. But the laugh turns into a cough.
Janice holds out a bottle of water and Erica takes it gratefully. I nod my appreciation her way too.
“Let me pull the truck up and we’ll get you loaded up.” I almost hate to leave her alone with them, sure they’ll get her to change her mind about going home with me. And then I crack the smallest sliver of a smile. Someone change Erica’s mind? I’m not sure that’s even humanly possible.
I pull up to the exit door where Erica, Emily, Dan, Janice, and Keith are waiting. Surprisingly, none of them, not even Erica herself, stops me from picking Erica up and placing her in the passenger seat. I buckle her in and close the door as she calls out to them, “Call me in the morning?”
Janice nods, then makes pointed eye contact with me as she puts her hand on my shoulder. With a weighted breath, she tells me, “That’s my baby.”
“Understood.” Erica is important to her, and with one word, I let her know that I will respect that and do my best to take care of Erica the way she would. It’s a vow, a promise, and I’m a man of my word, so I take that shit seriously.
I offer my hand to Keith, who shakes it too tightly again, but I can forgive that under the circumstances. Honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t punched me. My Dad would’ve if some strange, dirty, rough guy had shown up for Shayanne. “This isn’t over.”
“Wish we’d met under better circumstances. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.” He doesn’t soften in the slightest at the sweet nothings I’m saying.
Emily hugs me. “Do you want me to come sleep on the couch and help? I don’t know if I can not be with her when she’s hurt. Oh, God, how come I didn’t feel it when it happened?” She’s getting hysterical.
I whisper, hoping Erica can’t read lips. It’d be just like her to forget to tell me she can do that and use the skill for maximum impact at the right time. “If you come over, you know she’ll put on a front.” Emily nods, her eyes glassy with tears again. “Tomorrow. I have her for now.”
I circle the truck, getting in the driver’s side, and Erica waves at her family. We pull off, and as soon as we’re out of the lot, she sags in her seat.
“Letting you know now . . . that took everything I’ve got out of me. I’m fucking toast . . . get it?” I lift a wry brow her way. “Still too soon?”
“Too soon,” I agree dryly.
She sighs. “No racing jokes, but I need to crash and sleep for a few weeks. Can you or can you not make that happen?”
She’s still got some walls up, but they’re crumbling fast. Exhaustion laces her voice, and her eyelids are getting heavy.
“I can make that happen.”
Sleep for weeks? No, because her parents are coming with some hard questions in a few hours, but I can make it seem like weeks if that’s what she needs. I’ll get her in bed, comfy and cozy, give her some tea with her pain meds, and make her pancakes in the morning.
I’ve got experience taking care of people, maybe not from injury, but from illness. Mom’s cancer, Dad’s broken heart. And one thing I know for sure . . . my mom’s pancakes can heal whatever ails you.