Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
HARRY
T he bank manager on the opposite side of the desk leans back in his chair. It creaks under his surplus weight as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ll need a substantial down payment for a place that size, Rawlins.”
“Yes, sir.”
I have more than I need. A decade of scrimping and saving has afforded me that. Us that. Ma will be coming with.
“Well, if you’re good for the down payment, and I assume you’ll be selling some of your current properties, there are several auctions for properties in the local area coming up. What exactly are you lookin’ for?”
“Ranchin’. Something that’ll carry around a thousand head through the winter. Not too close to town. I want sizable land, not joining allotments.”
“Hmmm.” He slides his glasses up his nose and pulls out a file. I wait as he flips through pages until he finds what he’s searching for. He plucks it out and holds it away from his face. “This here sounds like what you’d be after. Twenty thousand acres, mostly mountain country, over forty percent productive fields at the base. And the two surrounding ranches may also come available in the next twenty years, no kids to hand it down to. You know how it goes.”
He hands me the paper.
Typed-up specs and a description of the land cover the whole page.
“It looks about right,” I say, handing him back the paper. “Where is it?”
“About an hour out of town, out on old Hillview Road. Big old sign that’s fallin’ down, you can’t miss it. But Harry, you won’t be the only one interested in this ranch. The auction will be tight. At least, that’s my prediction.”
“But if I bid, I’m good for the mortgage through the bank?”
“I’ll need to tally the final numbers, but I think it should be doable. However, if it goes over what you have available to you in the way of finance, you’re gonna need one hell of a year to cover the first mortgage payment.”
I can’t flatten the grin claiming my face. This is everything I have worked so hard for. For years. “Yes, sir.”
He stands and shakes my hand. “Tell Barb out front you want the address for the ranch on Hillview, she can give you a rough map.”
“Won’t be necessary, thanks again.”
I give him a brisk nod and walk out of the only bank in Lewistown, more determined than I have ever been. I am so close.
Back at the truck, I sit staring down the street, letting her idle. I may just pull this off. And if I can get the ranch profitable in the first few years, save like I’m used to doin’, maybe other investments would be an option. My gaze snags on blonde hair blowing in the day’s crazy wind. The short shorts she wears accentuate those long legs, sending warmth to my core.
She’s talkin’ to the accountant.
Why is she talkin’ to the accountant?
Louisa is animated, smiling as she touches his arm. He doesn’t respond. I lean back in the seat and watch them like it’s my God-given right. I glance at the time on the town square tower clock. It’s a little after four.
Louisa is off work now.
She walks around a parked red car and climbs into the passenger’s seat. The accountant drops into the driver’s seat. When the car starts and they pull out and head for the town lake, I shift the old truck into gear and turn her toward the outskirts.
Hillview Road sounds pretty damn good right now.
* * *
The busted sign arching over the entrance sways in the breeze like the posts are rotted off at the ground. The owners of the ranch still live here, so I kill the engine and glance around, trying to make out what I can.
One run-down old barn.
One large but worse for wear homestead. No yard. But a bunch of ancient trees surrounding the house. Like loyal knights standing at attention. The old weeping willows sway on either side of the house, a few in the front and at least one huge one out back. The yards are too close to the house. No round yard. No stables.
The bank manager was right to say this place would need a stellar year to cover the mortgage payment. Hell, it’ll take me a whole six months just to fix what I can see, and I haven’t even set foot on the place yet.
I rub a hand over my head and blow out a breath. I’m not afraid of hard work or long hours. And if it means a better life for Ma, then I’m all hands on deck. I take a few more minutes to look around and make a mental list of what needs fixin’.
On the way home, I decide to keep this under my hat for now. I don’t want to get Ma’s hopes up. Or have the conversation about the old man a second before I have to. Ain’t no way I’m taking him with. One of his buddies can take him in. It’s time we washed our hands of the old bastard.
It’s about dark when I make it home. The lights are all on and Louisa’s car is in the driveway. What the hell?
Shit, it’s Wednesday.
How the hell did I forget?
And why is she still here?
I pull up in a flurry of gravel, killing the engine as I push out of the vehicle like a rattlesnake slid up onto the seat. Taking the steps two at a time, I burst through the door.
Yelling finds me before I have the chance to lay eyes on either Ma or Louisa. I rush toward the sound. The second I find Ma, my insides crawl with lava. A vicious welt tarnishes the side of her face. Her arm is held out, crossed in front of Louisa. Who stares, wide-eyed and shaking, at my old man.
Fuck.
Judging by the determined look on Ma’s face, she’s been doin’ her own yelling. My hands curl to fists, breaths burning their way over the raw sound leavin’ my throat. I glance at Louisa. Her eyes flicker to Eddy, as if assessing what’s going to happen next.
The old man drags his glare to me. “Well, if it isn’t the get-about. Where the hell have you been? Why’s the bank manager ringin’ me?” He takes a step forward.
He’s sober.
Fuck.
“Harry, take Louisa home,” Ma says, fear warring with determination, its filthy remnants lacing her voice.
Ignoring her, I step into his space. “What did you do to her?”
“Never did deserve a girl like her. Making sure she knows it.”
I turn to Louisa. “You alright?”
She nods, her eyes not leaving mine.
“Please, Harry, take her home. I’ll be fine.” Ma stares straight at the old man. There haven’t been many times she’s stood up to him. Louisa, apparently, was worth the fight.
I step up, towering over the mongrel as I say, “I ought to end you where you stand. But, for some godforsaken reason”—I glance to Ma—“today is not that day.”
He shakes his head and leans back like he’s about to take a swing at me. I step out of his way, and he falters onto one knee before pushing to stand.
Guess all that alcohol had permanent effects.
I walk to where Ma still holds Louisa behind her. “You sure about this, Ma?”
She tilts her chin up, looking into my eyes with a forced smile. “I’ll be fine. Take Louisa home, my love.” She turns back. “Please, hon, don’t take anything you heard tonight to heart. Please.”
I hold out a hand to Louisa. Hers, fine and soft, slips into my own, still shaking. I lead her from the living room to the kitchen. Now I see the mess. The upturned pots. The freshly made pasta flung around the room. Flour over the floor and counter.
“Jesus...” I mutter.
“I need to—” Louisa darts to the counter, picking up her handbag. I bundle her out the door and down the stairs. When we’re outside, I blow out a breath. That’s not what I wanted her to be a part of. Or witness.
Shame and regret heat my face. I hunch my shoulders over for a moment and close my eyes.
I should turn right back around and knock the old man off his block. I shouldn’t leave Ma there. But she insisted. And by the looks of Louisa, she can’t take another argument. Much less one with Ma involved.
I open the vehicle door for her, and she slides in, not saying a word. Clutching her bag to her chest, she stares ahead as I slide into the seat and turn over the engine.
We are halfway through town before she speaks. “Will she really be okay?”
Her eyes find mine. Tears shine and fall as she looks back through the windshield. She doesn’t wipe them away.
“I don’t know.”
I really don’t. Any moment of any day he could decide to snap. Be too drunk to know what he’s doing.
“I was so scared. He?—”
I pull over by the restaurant and kill the engine. “Best to forget anything ’bout Eddy Rawlins, Louisa.”
She turns on the seat and waits for me to look at her. When I do, her face scrunches up. “Rosie.” She blows out a breath. “She was protecting you. Your dad said such horrible things. Telling me to run far away from you.” Her face twists with the statement. Tension hovers between us as a stone forms in my throat. But she continues. “Your ma, she fought for you. Telling him to stop. God, the way that woman loves you, Harry...” Her voice breaks.
I can’t look at her.
I just can’t.
My old man got one thing right. Louisa should stay far away from me. There is no way in hell I’m lettin’ her live through this disaster of a family. That would be beyond damn selfish. I won’t put her anywhere near it. I couldn’t. It would take the last bit of strength I have left. The tiny sliver of restraint I’ve had around him would disappear if he ever laid a hand on her.
“You should go,” I say, not lookin’ at her.
“Yes.” She sniffs, wiping her face. “Go back to Rosie. Tell her I’ll see her next Wednesday, okay?”
I snap my head to her. “Louisa?—”
“I made a promise, Harry. I’m not breakin’ it. I’ll pick her up and she can come cook with me here if I have to.”
I don’t know what to say. My throat burns and the bridge of my nose prickles as the woman before me blurs. She’d do that for Ma?
“Sure, she’d love that,” I finally say, hoping the wobble in my voice isn’t as noticeable as it feels.
“Night, Harry.” She pushes up a smile.
It’s a sad one. Showcasing her big heart. The same one I fell in love with all those years ago. And there’s another chink in my armor. The first was in the diner when she wanted to apologize for old hurts and running off on the night of prom.
Louisa Masters always had my heart wrapped in hers, but it’s moments like these I can’t shake off. These are the single moments that stand out that I can’t ignore. Instead of acting on them, I store them away. Push them down, where light can’t touch them. So they have no chance of blooming back to life.
She does deserve better.
And I can’t guarantee I can give it to her.
Not yet.
When she’s safely inside, I turn on the truck and head back toward the outskirts. But instead of driving home, I park by the lake. Dropping the tailgate, I sit facing the water. The slap and swoosh of the small ripples moving across the water with the night’s light wind calms my racing heart and tapped-out nerves.
It could have been a lot worse.
He could have hurt Louisa.
Ma could’ve been hurt worse. Hell, she has been.
Louisa could have brushed her hands of Ma. That would break her heart. She sure likes havin’ her around. In all honestly, I’m glad Ma has someone. She needs more than only a son to talk to. Her friend Evelyn will never visit. She’s too aware of the situation to brave the storm.
I lie back on the tray as the stars make their way slowly across the sky. Night sounds fill in around me. I suck in a long, deep breath. If only I could freeze time right here.
When the cold boards set an ache between my shoulders, I sit up and jump off the tailgate. I drive home, slow. Maybe Ma will be in bed. Maybe he’ll be back in town with his buddies. Here’s hoping.
A flash of blue and red lights catches my attention half a mile from home.
Fuck.
I push the old girl faster.
The police lights light up the old house like the damn county fair. I fly into the driveway. Behind the trooper vehicle, the ambulance sits, doors open.
Fuck. Fuck!
I was gone too long.
Ma.
God, if anything’s happened to her...
I fly out of the truck, leavin’ it idling, and lunge up the steps. An officer stands inside the door. He stops me, his hand on my shoulder, as I make it across the threshold. “I’m sorry, son.”