15. Lennox
lennox
. . .
I stood next to Cleo beside the kitchen sink.
We were cleaning up after breakfast, and our routine was flawless.
She washed, and I dried—which was perfect, considering I hated washing dishes.
Bits of food were always stuck to the plate, and even the thought of touching one of them made my skin crawl.
It’d been nearly a week since we’d left the hospital.
Josie stayed behind with Mom since Cleo had to return to work.
Before moving to Montana, she’d taught first grade at Ashwood Elementary and loved it.
Cleo had the perfect disposition to work with kids day in and out.
Over the summer, the principal had found out she was back in town and had been begging her to come back.
She’d told her no over and over again, but Mrs. Cox wasn’t one to give up.
Eventually, my sister agreed to come back as a substitute, but that’d quickly turned to full-time employment when she informed them she’d be staying permanently.
It’d been one of the first genuine smiles I’d seen from Cleo in a long time.
The school year was in full swing now, and while they were able to find a sub for the Monday and Tuesday following Dad’s hospitalization, no one else was available to fill in for the rest of the week.
Thankfully, this gave us the opportunity to get Mom and Josie settled in Dallas before coming home and collapsing ourselves.
Being in this big house was strange, just the two of us.
I couldn’t remember the last time it’d been so silent.
Growing up, it was always full of noise.
After all, it was filled with three boisterous girls who spent their days running up and down the halls screaming at one another about God knows what.
But now it felt empty and cold.
I’d never thought much about what would happen when our parents weren’t around anymore because I’d never let it even be considered a possibility. Death was inevitable, but not for my parents. I always thought they’d live forever.
For the first time in twenty-seven years, I was forced to face the ugly truth, and I hated every minute of it.
Cleo and I had done what we could. We invited Lincoln and, much to my dismay, Bishop over for dinner every night. Lincoln was grateful and had come over each time since Josie was gone. I think he hated being alone just as much as we did.
Bishop, on the other hand, never showed up.
Working with him had proved to be just as challenging as I expected it to be.
Every morning when I showed up to the barn, his office was empty, and Titan was gone.
I started waking up earlier and earlier in hopes of catching him, but I never could.
I was almost ready to camp out in the damn stalls to confront him.
Whatever this thing hanging between us was weird. We were like one of those indoor rollercoasters you rode in the pitch dark. Was there a huge climb coming up? A sharp turn or a drastic drop? No one knew.
Setting my feelings aside, which was hard to do because I took everything personally, my main annoyance was his insistence on doing everything himself. Try as I might, I did care about him. How could I not? He’d damn near always been in my life.
Burnout was a real thing, and it had dangerous consequences. As a kid, I remember my parents fighting about Dad’s long working hours. Mom always kept him in line and never backed down when he argued with her.
Bishop didn’t have that, nor did he like anyone calling him out on his shit.
The thing was, even through my anger, I found myself pitying the man. He was someone who always seemed to live in fear. A set of rules were his best friend, and he would never dare to color outside the lines. No wonder he didn’t understand how good it could be if he set his pride aside.
“What’s on your schedule for today?” Cleo asked, wiping her hands on a clean dishrag.
Her hair was down, dusting the top of her shoulders.
She’d cropped it short at the start of the school year to keep it out of the way.
I didn’t get it. I’d always thought shorter hair was harder to manage but to each their own.
I blew out a breath, turning and leaning against the counter. “I don’t know yet. I guess I’ll head to the barn and see what needs to be done. I might go out and check the stock tanks to make sure they’re still full, or I could go check fencing.”
Cleo tossed the towel down on the countertop. “Bishop still giving you hell?”
I rolled my eyes. “If you consider him completely ignoring and avoiding me hell, then yes. It’s more annoying than anything because we’re supposed to be working together, you know?
But I haven’t seen him since Sunday. Even Lincoln tried to talk to him, but he just shrugged him off. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”
“It’s hard. So many things are changing, and so fast, too.”
“Well, it sure doesn’t give him the right to be a dick,” I grumbled. “I’m the one who’s sworn to hate him forever. ”
Cleo cocked her head to the side, studying me. “And why is that, Lennox?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.
“Why do you hate him?”
“Because it’s Bishop,” I said, shrugging. “I’ve always hated him.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“No, you haven’t,” she said, turning to grab her travel cup from the cupboard. “Y’all have always fought like cats and dogs, sure, but I’ve never seen real hate between y’all until a few months ago.”
“We don’t need her.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” I said, wiping my hands on my jeans. “Things change. People change. Maybe it’s always been there.”
Cleo tapped her fingers against the countertop.
“I don’t know. You guys seemed pretty comfortable at the bar.
” I quickly turned on her, narrowing my eyes.
She was smiling as she lifted her cup and took a sip.
“And it’s funny… You didn’t come home that night, even though we were dropped off at the same time. I can’t help but wonder?—”
I surged forward, clapping my hand over her mouth before she could finish. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t say it,” I said. “Don’t even go there.”
She ripped my hand away and pointed at me. “You had sex with Bishop!”
“No, no, no,” I said quickly. “We did not have sex.”
“You did something with him, though! You didn’t come back to the house until the next afternoon.”
“I was in the barn, you know that.” Much to my dismay, the entire family knew about my getting trapped in the barn while Josie and Lincoln rekindled their relationship. Speaking of nightmares, those sounds still haunted me.
“And why were you in the barn?” She leaned her hip against the counter. “Because I know damn well you didn’t sleep in there.”
“There’s a couch in the loft,” I said slowly, looking everywhere but at her. Cleo had an uncanny way of coaxing the darkest secrets out of people, and I’d fallen victim to her schemes more than once. “And Strider would be an excellent cuddle buddy.”
“Probably not as good as a six-foot, four-inch giant of a man who gives excellent hugs, but go on.”
I crossed my arms. “Well, if you like his hugs so much, why don’t you spend the night with him?” I mumbled, realizing my mistake too late.
I looked up, finding my sister grinning as though she knew she had me cornered. Why the heck would that have been what I latched onto? Why would I even be concerned if I had nothing to hide?
“And what if I did, huh? What then?”
“Are you trying to use reverse psychology on me? It might work on Josie, but it won’t on me.” I hoped I sounded convincing because I wasn’t sure I felt it.
She lifted one shoulder. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” Okay, maybe it was a little bit.
Ugh. I damn sure didn’t want to think about him in the way I did, but I feared it was too late.
My interest had been piqued. Every time I tried to shove those pesky feelings down, firmly locking them into a cute little box at the back of my brain, it shook and rattled until I had no choice but to let them escape.
His filthy mouth had set me aflame, and no amount of special private time with my favorite vibrator had been able to give me that toe-curling goodness I was looking for.
I really needed to get laid. And not just laid, but a blow-your-back-out-and-make-you-forget-your-name kinda sex.
Cleo sighed, topping off her coffee. “No, I’m not going to lecture you, but I’ll say this… I’ve never known you to not go af ter what you want. You’re far more stubborn than your sisters.”
“I don’t want him,” I countered.
My sister walked to our breakfast nook, grabbing her purse. “Whatever you wanna tell yourself, Sis.” I followed her to the living room, stopping when she did in the mud room. “Oh, and don’t forget Dad’ll be coming home today. Mom wants to keep it simple for family dinner tonight.”
“Sounds good. Maybe I can make some chicken soup and load that bitch up with veggies,” I said, resting against the doorframe. “I know how much he loves it.”
“I think he’ll love that,” she called over her shoulder. “Let me know if I need to pick anything up from the store on my way home.”
“Will do,” I said. “Have fun! Teach those kids to fight the patriarchy or whatever you do.”
She rolled her eyes. “They’re six, Lennox.”
“Never too early to start empowering the next generation!”
It was around noon by the time I wandered into the barn. I’d spent the morning cleaning up the house, making sure it would be up to Mom’s standards. I didn’t need her coming home and worrying about the fluffiness of the pillows or the fact we’d missed a single shelf with dust.