Chapter 36
Tristan
“Where’s Sadie?” I ask my father as he’s sitting in his recliner.
She told me she was going with him to work on the new barn for the goats.
“How would I know?”
“I thought you were doing stuff with her?”
He huffs. “She went to see Cloud and then left me.”
That makes no sense. She would never just abandon my father. Not for anything other than…that fucking horse.
Anger flares in an instant. We had an agreement that she wouldn’t push her luck with Cloud, and sure enough, she’s already doing it.
I don’t say a word. I head for the door, ready to find her and the damn horse.
“Tristan?” my father calls.
“Yeah?”
“Remember that one time your mother and I told you that you couldn’t ride that dirt bike?”
I blink quickly, shaking my head as I look at him. “What? No.”
“You were maybe fourteen. Your mother and I were adamant that you were not to get on or ride that damn bike. What did you do?”
I’m pretty sure I know the answer to that.
Dad tells me before I can respond. “You rode it. Broke your freaking arm too. You didn’t die. You survived and rode the fucking thing until I finally broke it. Maybe keep that in mind before you go yellin’ at my grandbaby and I have to kick your ass for making her cry.”
The anger deflates just a little. “She did almost die.”
“People die, son.”
“I’m well aware of it.”
Pop stands, looking me straight in the eye. “I know you are. I am too. I lost the woman of my dreams, and I’m still standing.”
“You don’t get it.”
He scoffs. “The hell I don’t. I have four damn kids.
A boy who thought he was invincible. Climbing all over, riding broncs, doing all kinds of dumb shit with his dumb friends.
I have daughters, three of them who are trying to kill me, if I could guess based on the idiot choices they’ve made too.
But you go on and do whatever you’re going to do.
Tell her she can’t ride. Tell her she can’t do anything because you’re afraid.
What a way to live,” he says and then sits back down.
“Sure ain’t no life worth living, if you ask me.
Not that anyone did, but I’m just saying. ”
He’s just saying. “How’d you do it?” I ask, hoping maybe my father holds the answers to how I can possibly live with this fucking crippling fear of loss.
How did he survive losing my momma?
Not that he didn’t have a hell of a lot more time than I had with Emmy Jo. Our time was short. She didn’t get to see her baby grow up or even choose whether she wanted to have another. My father didn’t have to raise the four of us on his own and worry without the help of a spouse.
I do.
Every decision I make affects the outcome of Sadie’s life and my own.
“I had someone to lean on,” he answers honestly. “I had your mother, who was strong enough to handle it all.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t have that.”
“You could,” he says with a brow raised.
My eyes narrow just slightly. Does he know something? “What are you talking about?”
He shrugs and grabs the remote. “Just that…you could have it, but you don’t.”
I did have it.
I had the chance of it, at least.
“It’s not that simple.”
Pop scoffs. “You think life is supposed to be easy, son? It’s not. It’s complicated and messy and damn right scary. I haven’t slept soundly in thirty-six years. The day you were born was the last time I had ignorance as to what real fear felt like.”
“Well, Pop, that’s great, but I never almost died. Mom didn’t die until you had built a beautiful life together.”
My father’s eyes narrow. “And you think that makes a damn difference? You think because you’ve experienced pain and fear that you can just shove everyone in a box?
Your daughter loves to ride. She loves that stupid horse, and you can’t put her in a bubble.
The people you love need to live, Tristan, and so do you. ”
This conversation is the last thing I need right now. “I can’t talk about this.”
“No, you never can handle the tough conversations, can you?”
“Where do you get off saying that? You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snap.
“It means that when you get scared, you hide away. It’s better for you not to think or hurt than realize you’re just an idiot who needs to let the people you love make their own choices.
Let me tell you something,” Dad says as he points his finger at me.
“I have lived with my heart outside my body since I met your mother. To fear in a way I didn’t know people could, and I’ve had to deal with it.
I’ve had to let you kids be. To let you make your own choices and pray to every higher being that you’d be okay. ”
“And when they’re not?” I counter. “What about when you’ve watched the person you love slip away?”
“Then you love harder. You don’t turn your back on the absolute gift that love is.”
Two days ago I watched the woman I love walk away, and I’ve hated myself every minute since.
Before I can say anything to my father, I hear my daughter screaming: “Daddy! Daddy! Help! Daddy!” Through the front window, I see Sadie come running toward the house. I’m already out the door, rushing toward her.
I scoop her into my arms as she’s panting from running. “What is it?”
“Daddy, I’m sorry! I don’t know what happened! I’m so sorry! I-I’m—” She hiccups a sob. Tears are rolling down her face, and I can’t follow what she’s so upset about.
I take her face in my hands. “Sadie, slow down. What are you sorry for? What’s wrong?”
She pants heavily, swallowing air as tears run down her face. “I know you said not to take Cloud out, but I asked Lark to help me, and she said she would.”
I shake my head, confused and trying to piece together why any of that goes hand in hand. “I’m not sure I understand. Why did you ask Lark, and what has you crying?”
Sadie sniffs, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Lark was working with Cloud, and she took him out for a ride over an hour ago. She said she’d be back soon. She’s not back, and I’m so scared.”
Adrenaline fills my veins, but I work to keep calm. Just because she’s taking longer doesn’t mean anything.
“Why do you think something’s wrong?”
Her chest heaves with a deep sob, and then she inhales quickly. “Because Cloud came back—without Lark.”
“Lark!” I yell, looking around the clearing from the back of my horse.
I’ve been searching for thirty minutes. Screaming her name, waiting to hear her return my call or walk out.
I check my phone again—still no callback.
I’ve texted her at least ten times and called her twice as many in the hopes that her ringtone might alert me to where she is.
“Lark!” I call out again, but I hear only silence.
I’m never going to find her on my own. I need help.
I grab my phone and call the one person I know will always have my back.
“Tristan? Hey.”
“Jimmy, I need help.”
I swear I can feel the shift of his demeanor immediately. “Are you all right? I’m in the middle of something right now, but I can send someone to you if that’s okay?”
“No, I…it’s important. Look, I can’t get into all the details, but someone might be hurt. Sadie…”
“Is it Sadie?”
“No, no, it’s Lark.”
He’s silent for a moment. “Lark Gatlin?”
“Yes, she was helping Sadie with her horse, and Cloud returned without Lark. I’m worried. I’ve been out searching, but I’m never going to find her and…I need to find her. I have to make sure she’s all right.”
He clears his throat. “I’m not sure what to say.”
“Say you’ll help me find her. It’s…complicated, but…Lark is…well, I need to talk to her and explain. Just send a search party or something.”
I hear Jimmy cover the phone with his hand, then the muffled sound of him talking to someone. After a few seconds, he comes back on the line. “Tristan, look, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Lark, but the reason I can’t come look for her is because I’m with the Gatlins now.”
“What? Is she okay? Do you have her?” I ask the questions in rapid fire.
He doesn’t say anything for a few beats. “Before I answer anything, can you tell me the nature of your relationship with Lark?”
“I love her,” I say instantly.
Jimmy lets out a deep sigh. “I was worried that was the case. Then I suggest you come down to the hospital.”
I rush back to the ranch and drop my horse off to Veronica. I don’t say anything to her other than to put him up for me. She asks questions, but I’m already heading to the main house.
Jimmy wouldn’t give me any other information, just that it wasn’t great and I should get to the hospital.
Sadie is on the front porch with my dad, who’s holding her on the swing.
“Daddy?” Sadie asks. “Did you find her?”
I shake my head. “No, but someone did. I have to go to the hospital.”
“Can I go?” Sadie asks quickly.
“No, baby, I need you to stay here with Grandad.” I look to my father. “I have to make sure she’s okay.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I shouldn’t have.”
I go to her and pull her to my chest, then kiss the top of her head. “It’s okay. I’ll tell her when I see her, and everything will be fine.”
Sadie’s tears fall, and I glance up at my dad. “I have to go to her.”
My father nods slowly. “All right. Sadie and I will stay here and wait for your call.”
I expected him to say or do something to stop me. To remind me that we don’t particularly care about Gatlins or their health. He doesn’t, and while a part of me wants to ask him why that is, I don’t.
I need to get to her. To see whether she’s okay. To tell her I’m sorry. That I love her. That I’m willing to do anything she wants, if she’ll just forgive me for being a stupid ass.
The entire drive, my mind is going in circles. Hating that we fought. Hating myself for not going to her before and telling her how sorry I am.
I knew the minute she left that I’d fucked up.
I just wasn’t ready to face it.
I needed time to work through it. To come to my understanding, but I was a fool.
I didn’t need time. I just needed her.
As I park the car, everything feels like a blur. I make my way through the front door, and Jimmy is there waiting for me.
“Where is she?” I ask, not wasting any time.
He puts his hand on my chest. “She’s in the ICU. Look, I don’t think you should go in there. The family is distraught, and I think—”
I push past him, uncaring of what anyone says. No one is going to stop me from seeing her with my own eyes. I have to tell her all the things I didn’t say, the promises I’ll make if she’ll just be okay.
“Tristan!” Jimmy yells, but I’m already heading toward the desk.
I don’t get ten steps before a hand is around my arm. “What the hell are you doing here? Haven’t you done enough?”
I turn to face Deacon Gatlin, who has rage etched in his features. I know that look. I’ve felt it, in this very hospital, as the doctors delivered the news that would knock my world off its axis.
Putting aside the years of bullshit, I soften my face. “I’m here for Lark. How is she?”
His eyes narrow. “Leave.”
“I’m not leaving.”
I see Ryan come up behind him, hatred burning in his eyes. “You have some nerve coming here.”
This is going just about how I thought it would.
“I’m not here to start anything. I’m just here to see how Lark is.”
“For Lark? Why? She fucking hates you, just like we all do.”
Steeling my emotions, I get to the heart of it. I turn to Deacon first. “She was riding my daughter’s horse. Please, just give me something.”
Please, because I’m dying inside.
I might lose her. I might have lost her already. My heart is being ripped from my chest with every second.
“So it wasn’t enough to try to flood the barn, cut the fence line, almost kill our horses. Now you had to actually hurt my sister? I’ll fucking kill you myself!” Deacon takes a step forward, arm drawn back.
I wait for the blow, welcome it even. I’ll take the physical pain if it will stop the emotional trauma I’m enduring now.
“That’s enough!” a stern female voice says from across the waiting room, outside of the ICU.
All heads turn to see Mrs. Gatlin entering the room. Her hand rests on the back of a chair, her legs shaking.
“Momma,” Ryan says and rushes to her. He turns to glare at me, but his mother’s eyes don’t hold hatred or anger. They hold something else. Something close to understanding.
She watches me, not looking at her sons.
Deacon speaks quickly. “We’re just seeing him out.”
That causes her gaze to move to him. “No, he stays.”
“What?” they both shout in unison.
Her father enters the room, looking around, eyes landing on me before going to his wife.
“Tristan can see her if he wants,” Mrs. Gatlin says softly to the nurse standing at the doorway.
She knows.
Tears fill her soft green eyes, and then one falls. “She’d want to see you,” she says to me.
I nod. “Thank you.”
“No,” Ryan says, and his voice is ice. “Get the fuck out. Lark wouldn’t want that. She doesn’t need to see anyone. The people she loves are here, that doesn’t include you.”
Mrs. Gatlin speaks, and there is no question who’s in charge. “You will sit down, Ryan. If there’s a chance”—she sucks in a breath—“a sliver of a hope that she’ll come back, it’ll be because of him.” She gets to her feet and comes to me, raising her hand to my cheek. “Bring her back to us.”
My jaw trembles with emotion, but I hold it back. “I’ll do anything for her.”
She looks around at the hostile faces of the Gatlin family, who are most likely confused as to why I’m here and why their mother is allowing this, and then back to me. “I see that. Find a way to show her.”
Her hand drops and I turn, then walk through the doors of the ICU to do exactly what she asked me to do: bring Lark back and make this right.