Chapter Nineteen #2
She doesn’t make eye contact as she walks back up the steps, I can’t say for sure, but I think she looks embarrassed. The wooden rail and the wood next to her back door hiss as she pours another bucket of water over it and her shoulders fall, the bucket hanging from her hand next to her leg.
I know that Kinley knows an open flame on such a windy day is a no-no, especially with most of the grass in the fields dried up for the winter, and I wonder what she was doing this early in the morning with a fire in her fire pit.
In December.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Her back is toward me and her head drops, her frame seems even thinner than usual, she almost looks like a child and something inside of me wants to comfort her. I let the blanket fall from my hand, and I take a step toward her.
“Don’t.” She says, her voice is small and thin.
“Why would you start a fire on such a windy day?” Asking the question makes my lungs spasm and I start coughing again.
When she turns, her cheeks are streaked with tears and smoke, and her sweater is hanging off one shoulder, “Can you just leave now? Please?”
“No, I want to wait and make sure it doesn’t reignite.
Were you smoking out here?” She knows what I am talking about, and she rolls her eyes as she looks away toward the field.
Mason told me about her pot smoking and Mr. Harlow’s threat to make her leave the ranch if he ever caught her smoking again.
It would be easy to get her in trouble if I wanted to, all I would have to do is tell Mr. Harlow that she started a fire while smoking on her back porch. She drops the bucket next to her feet and turns her head back toward me, her eyes narrowed.
“No, I was not smoking out here, my dad would be able to smell it all the way to the house if I did. I don’t do that outside.” She shakes her head slightly and looks at her back door, “I was sending a letter to my mom.” Her voice cracks as she says it.
Oh.
My dislike for her cools a bit as I realize that I’m looking at a girl who misses her mom. I miss my mom all the time, so I know exactly how she feels. She was burning her letter so it would reach her mom, I’ve read about people doing that and it helps them with the grieving process.
I lean against the rail behind me and cross my arms over my chest to warm my hands from the cold breeze. “Do you do that often?”
Another tear rolls down her cheek and she nods, “Once a week.” She looks over her shoulder to the small fire pit behind her and says, “I put too many wood shavings in this time and the wind pushed the flame to the wooden post.”
Wanting to offer an olive branch, I say, “You know, my mom passed away almost four years ago. Well, my mom and my dad, they died together.”
Her eyes snap to mine, “You lost them both?”
I nod, “Car accident.”
She tilts her head, and her eyes harden a bit, “Are you trying to tell me that I should be grateful that I still have my dad? Because you don’t have to tell me that, I am grateful.”
I shake my head, “I’m telling you that I know how it feels to want to talk to your mom but she’s not here.” I look around her small frame at the fire pit and continue, “I’ve never burned a letter, but if it works for you, I may try it.”
Her face softens and she looks down at the porch next to my feet, “Oh.”
Tires slide in the dirt next to the truck I drove up here and Mr. Harlow jumps out of the driver’s side, then I see Mason and Gray barreling toward us in his truck.
“What in God’s name happened here?” Mr. Harlow yells, the usual gravelly voice is deeper and louder. “And why do I keep catching you two together when something is happening?”
Kinley and I look at each other, I press my lips closed to let her know I’m not going to say anything.
Just as she starts to talk, Mason skids to a stop, and all three brothers exit the truck.
Tucker is carrying a fire extinguisher and runs up to his sister, putting his arm around her shoulders to pull her back so he can inspect.
“I had a small fire in the pit and the wind pushed it onto the rail.” Kinley’s voice is firm, she lifts her chin and looks at her dad like she is expecting a fight.
He puts his hands on his hips and looks down at his boots for a second before looking back up, “I don’t have to tell you what could of happened if this had got outta hand. What were you thinking?” He doesn’t even wait for an answer, he turns and gets back in his truck to go back to the stables.
“Fuck.” Kinley whispers, regret laced in the word, and coughs as she looks out over the field.
Tucker squeezes her shoulders, “Mom would have understood if you had waited until a less windy day.” He taps her nose with his finger and hugs her.
I didn’t even hear Mason walk up next to me and I flinch when he cups my chin and turns my head in his direction, “You okay?”
I nod, “I’m fine.” Talking makes my lungs burn again and sends me into another coughing fit.
“She got more smoke than I did when she was beating it with the blanket.” Kinley points at the blanket by my feet and Mason bends to pick it up.
Turning to his sister, Mason says, “You’ll need to come stay in the main house for a week or so, I’ll explain when you get there.”
Kinley looks between her brothers, her gaze landing on Tucker, “It was a fucking accident, I’m not staying in the house.”
Mason sets his hand on the rail behind me and leans in my direction, “You are staying in the house for now, I’m going to tell you all about it with Marley and Breanna when we get there.
She squares her shoulders and shrugs Tucker’s arm off before she takes a step toward Mason, “Unless there is a threat to my life, I’m not staying in the house.”
Gray’s deep, demanding voice rises over everyone, “There is a threat to your life, God damn it, so if you don’t get your ass inside and get your stuff, I’ll throw you in the truck and come back to get what I think you might need later.”
Wow, Gray’s Dad voice is impressive.
She and Gray have a stare-off for a moment before she turns and stomps inside.