7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Maci
W hen Sutton heads outside, I’m too wired to go back to sleep. I don’t have a fighting chance with coffee on board, anyway.
Nervous energy zings around inside me, and a localized throbbing starts behind my eyebrow. I rub at the spot with two fingers.
I throw the covers back, shifting so my legs dangle off the side of the bed. My house shoes are easy to find in the bottom of the closet. My pajama pants will likely drag on the ground, but I don’t care.
The bedside table is cool under my hand as I use it to help me stand. The increasing pain in my side reminds me that it’s time for another round of pain meds.
Taking my half-full mug with me, I make my way into the bathroom for my pills before heading into the hallway. The stiffness begins to ease from my muscles, even if the wound aches. Moving helps somewhat.
It’s a short distance between the bedroom door and the entrance, and I rest my hand against the wall on my left side as I take my time getting to the exterior door to venture outside.
The gravel drive crunches underfoot. I’m not sure where I’m going. I don’t really want to be with anyone; I’d be shit company right now. I also silently hope that Daisy doesn’t come boop me in greeting.
Despite the dark, the silhouette of the Defender calls to me. With measured steps, I cross what I guess to be twenty-five feet to reach the backend of the machine. The tiny tailgate is open and just above ass height. It takes effort, but I slide my way onto the bed of the off-road vehicle. My feet dangle in the cool November air and puffs of smoke escape my mouth.
I did it on my own. I sip my coffee with pride. Success feels good.
Enough time passes for the sky to change colors as the ranch awakens. Intermittent moos sound and occasionally a bird calls. Faintly, voices shout back and forth. The nearest building is down the hill a ways. I wonder if there are any new calves this morning.
The ceramic mug is cool against my lips, chilled by the morning air.
Crunching gravel draws my attention toward the corner of the house, just before Sutton rounds my way. I perk up.
“Firecracker?” His pace picks up.
“Hey, Cowboy.” I cock my head at him playfully.
“What are you doing out here?” When he reaches me, he rubs my arms up and down. “Are you cold?”
I shrug. “It feels nice.”
The pad of his thumb is rough as he runs it over my cheek, eliciting goosebumps across my body. “Why didn’t you call me?” His voice holds less frustration than anticipated.
“I couldn’t sit still, and you hadn’t been gone long.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment. “How are you feeling?” I open my mouth, but he interrupts. “And if you even think about saying ‘fine,’ I will haul your ass inside so fast your head will spin.”
A small giggle bubbles out of me. “I’m a little sore.”
“Do you need more pain meds?”
“No, I took a dose before I came out. They don’t get rid of it all, though.”
“Stay put.” He grabs my mug from beside me on the tailgate. As he turns to go, he gives me a sharp look. “I mean it. Your stubborn ass better be right fucking there when I get back.”
My eyes widen and my cheeks heat. Sutton being a man of few words has never bothered me. He conveys plenty through looks alone. Coincidentally, he also has a certain way with words, and as usual, I’m immediately on fire when his commanding side comes out. “Yes, sir.”
It’s wildly satisfying when his eyes flash before he walks away.
As promised, I stay put until he returns carrying a full mug.
“Thank you.” I sip my coffee. A low groan rises from me at the renewed warmth. “Any new calves this morning?
Sutton hides a smirk. “Not today. Do you want me to help you in? I have a few more things to do.”
I shake my head. “I’ll head in soon and get dressed.” I’m reminded of the day I met him as he continues to stand silently. He stood on Nana’s porch while I came close to a mental breakdown, just letting me go through whatever I needed to. I wonder if he knows he was a safe haven for me then, just as he is now.
“Ok. I’ll come check on you in a bit.” He kisses the top of my head before heading around the front of the house and disappearing, giving me one last look over his shoulder.
When the sun is fully up, I slide off the tailgate slowly and make my way inside. The painkiller has kicked in and my side is only a little sore for the time being. It makes getting out of pajamas and into clothes for the day easier. I know I’m supposed to be taking it easy, so I assume healing is going to take a bit longer than they suggested because I can’t possibly sit still.
Someone knocks on the door. Anticipation floods my system. No one has ever come around when Sutton isn’t here. Not that I’ve spent much time alone here. I enter the hallway to open the door.
“Jesus, it took you long enough, gimpy,” Leah says, grinning wildly, and Izzy shoves her with a shoulder. “Too soon?”
“It’s barely seven thirty; I didn’t expect you so early!”
“Well, you’d have known we were coming if you’d bothered to check your messages.” Leah pushes her way through the door.
Izzy holds up a take-out bag. “We brought tacos!”
“Come on, we can eat in the office,” I say, leading the way to Sammie’s old room. I’ve yet to meet Sutton’s sister, but with any luck we’ll make the trip soon.
Izzy points to the couch. Because of course, she’s forcing me to sit. I do, with an added look of annoyance. “I already know you haven’t been resting,” she says.
My jaw drops. “Excuse me, I am—”
She pins me with the face of a teacher instead of her true dental hygienist nature. “Don’t even try it. We saw Sutton on the way in.”
“Traitor,” I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Even if we hadn’t, you never listen to anyone.”
They both ignore my half-hearted glare. Leah finds everything she’s looking for and falls onto the couch next to me with a stack of tacos. “Ow. This thing hasn’t been used much.”
I snicker. “I don’t think it’s a common office. It’s just Sutton’s.”
She looks around the rustic space. “You guys break in that desk yet? Eh?” Her elbow makes contact with my ribs, and I’m thankful she’s seated on my right.
“How are you?” Izzy leans against the desk, ignoring the tinfoil-wrapped goodness behind her and Leah’s joke.
I unwrap the first taco Leah sets on my leg. “I’m fine.”
“Liar.” Leah takes a huge bite of taco to hide her quip.
“Just sore and a little tired. I didn’t sleep great.”
“Why?” Izzy asks. “Is the pain waking you?”
This time, I take a bite to buy me time. She continues to stare at me, waiting. A habit that she and Sutton share.
“No. Waking up a lot, but it’s not pain.”
Her face softens. “Nightmares?”
I fold the aluminum foil back over the taco and pinch it closed without responding.
“You didn’t tell the cowboy, did you?”
It’s not lost on any of us that he’s actually a rancher, but he never corrected me, and the name just stuck. I shake my head.
“Why?” Leah’s mouth is full of egg and tortilla.
“He’s so busy trying to take care of me, he’s not focused on the ranch. And I think something is bothering him.”
My friends exchange a look.
Izzy drops down from the desk. “He’s probably freaking out a bit.”
“Exactly. So I don’t want to pile on another thing for him to worry over.”
“Maci Grace, you both had a scare. It’s going to take some time for things to right themselves. But you keeping things from him isn’t going to stop him from worrying.”
“I know.” I study the tinfoil intently.
“Eat. Then we can go get the rest of your stuff from Nana’s.” She stands and picks up a taco from the desk.
Nana’s? It’s true, the only things I have are items I accidentally left after the first weekend I stayed here, and the couple of items my friends packed. Still, I hadn’t considered going over there.
“It’s ok. I’ll just run some laundry here. I’m sure you two have things to do today.”
“I’m off,” Leah says, opening another taco. She watches me blankly while she chews, but I know better.
Leah isn’t pushy in the way Izzy is. She doesn’t ask the hard questions or push me toward the things that make me uncomfortable. But she still makes a point in her own bold way.
I scowl at her. “How’s Lily?” Two can play that game. She’s made a point to use Nana’s passing and the things going in my life as an excuse not to talk about her own, but I know better.
She swallows and sticks her tongue out at me. “I’ll manage my sister. Quit deflecting.”
Izzy sighs. “Well, I’m not off today. I have time, but if you don’t want to go over there, I’m not going to force you.” There’s an unasked question hanging on the end of her sentence.
I blink. “I’m just not ready.”
“Ok. I understand.”
An angry part of me rears up, saying she doesn’t understand—she can’t possibly—before guilt creeps in. None of this is her fault, or anyone else’s who’s looking out for me. And it’s not like she’s pushing.
“So, what’s the plan? You’re staying here?” Leah wads up her taco wrappers.
“For now. We haven’t set a date on me leaving, but when I’m healed, I’ll head back to Nana’s.”
“Mhmmm.” Leah’s drawn-out hum rings with skepticism.
“What?”
“Oh! Nothing!” Leah feigns surprise, her eyes huge as she blinks repeatedly at me.
This time, I stick my tongue out at her.
Izzy snickers from her place near the desk.
We finish our breakfast with discussion of Thanksgiving, and I’m grateful for the topic change, even if I have no idea what the holiday will look like for me.
We clean up our trash and head to Izzy’s car parked in the drive.
Daisy rounds the other side of the house as we near the front porch steps. She beelines for me, albeit slowly, because she’s a cow. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t experience a flutter of warmth at her memory.
“What the fuck?” Leah nearly screeches next to me.
“It’s just Daisy.” I smile and meet Daisy halfway.
“Of course Sutton’s cow is named Daisy.”
Daisy boops me with her cold, wet muzzle. I giggle and rub the bridge of her nose. She’s gentler than the last time she greeted me, which I’m thankful for given the circumstances.
“I doubt he named her,” Izzy chimes in.
Hoofbeats thud along the ground, drawing all of our attention. Sutton comes around the house from the same side Daisy did, astride Johnny Walker, his red gelding.
My cheeks rise as a wide smile overtakes my face. I’ve always joked about him being a cowboy, but I’ve never seen him ride before. The sight does things to my insides.
He grins and hops down effortlessly.
“I was beginning to wonder if that hat was all for show.” Leah smirks at Sutton from next to me.
He smiles. It’s not the smile he gives me. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve seen this one before, and I wonder if it’s for show, given everything that’s going on. “Thanks for coming out with breakfast. Looks like you found her ok.”
“Yeah. She was where you told us,” Izzy says. She looks between us. “We’ll talk later. Call if you need anything. Either of you.”
“What she said.” Leah hugs me. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.” I release her after a quick squeeze and wave as they walk to Leah’s car.
Before they’ve disappeared at the fork in the drive, I have a text.
Izzy:
Don’t forget to talk to the cowboy.
Me:
Hands free. Eyes on the road.
Izzy:
I’m not driving.
Me:
And don’t tell me what to do.
Izzy:
Someone needs to.
Sutton slides an arm around my waist and kisses my temple. His voice is low, and his breath tickles my hair. “You look beautiful. How are you feeling?”
Heat fills my cheeks at the compliment. “Good.”
His lips press together, no doubt analyzing my every word.
I breathe a laugh. “I’m fine. You don’t have to keep checking on me.”
He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Yes, the fuck I do. And the sooner you figure that out, the better. I don’t check on you out of responsibility. I check on you because I want to know how you are. And I want to help you when you need it.”
My throat thickens as I stare into his stormy eyes. With both hands, I reach around his neck and pull his head down to kiss me. It’s tender at first but quickly turns hungry, giving into a need we share fueled by fear.
Breaking the kiss, he rubs his nose against mine. “Stop fighting me all the time, Firecracker.”
“But it’s what I do best.” I give him another peck.
“That’s true. But you don’t have to work so hard at it.”
Rumbling fills the air, speeding closer. The front door of the house slams open. Sutton and I look up to the porch, where his dad, Michael stomps out. He cocks a rifle, and my eyes widen.
“Dad, what the hell!”
Behind us, the noise draws nearer. Several motorcycles travel up the drive together, pulling into the circular space in front of the house.
Mr. Strickland gestures their way with his chin and projects his voice. “Said they want to see Maci.”
Sutton looks at me as I eye the bikes.
James leads the group.
“Everything’s okay.” I raise my voice over the engines.
They park in a sort of pod and cut their engines. James is the only one to get off his bike.
Sutton and Michael stare at me. “It’s my dad,” I manage.
“Pardon?” Mr. Strickland says, lowering the gun he’s holding, as Sutton says, “Come again?”
I’m sure Sutton’s remembering the night on Nana’s porch when I told him I wouldn’t know my dad if I saw him. I rub a hand over my face. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you. He came by after lunch on Saturday.”
Sutton looks between us as James approaches. “You’re sure?”
I nod. “Yes. It’s fine. I promise.”
“Gracie,” James says, his Irish accent only hinting through the nickname.
My upbringing tells me to smile and be polite, but with the way he keeps showing up unannounced, it’s hard. “Hi. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Sutton’s posture is stiff as he studies the group. “This is Sutton. I told you about him.”
James shakes Sutton’s hand and they hold each other’s eyes for a moment. I don’t know what kind of role my estranged father wants in my life, but I’m hoping he and Sutton start off on the right foot.
“This is his father. Michael Strickland.” I gesture to where Michael stands on the porch. James nods in his direction.
Sutton holds my eyes. “I have some things to do. I’ll let you two talk.” He kisses my head and surveys the rest of the bikers before mounting Johnny Walker and riding off behind the house.
The front door closes. I don’t bother looking to see if Michael went inside.
James looks me over, his appraisal intentional. “Your rancher is awfully keen on you.”
“It’s mutual.”
He nods. The sleeves on his white dress shirt are rolled up again. It doesn’t look windblown despite the ride. His dark jeans and riding boots look the same as before. “Heard there was an incident. Needed to see for myself.”
Instead of responding, I look behind him to his companions. Four other men sit on or mill around their motorcycles, their eyes scanning and bodies tense. Two study me openly, one my age and one James’. The other two scan the property.
I trail the lines of the large bird patch on the back of one of their leather cuts. The wings are spread wide like it’s landing.
“Hawks?”
“Falcons,” he corrects, calmly.
I frown, returning my gaze to him. I’m sure there’s symbolism there, but I don’t question it. “Why did you bring all of these guys with you?”
He stuffs his hands in his pockets, but it’s not a sheepish move. “Habit.” He smirks. “Were you hurt?”
Even though he’s very good at casually directing the conversation, the hint of fear over potentially losing something he only just got back isn’t lost on me. His face remains composed, a little cocky even, so I don’t know how I know he feels that way, except that I know .
My side throbs as if pain has been summoned. “Stabbed. It was Colt.” I motion around the wound with my hand.
He looks toward my hip and his face tightens, but he doesn’t seem surprised at the mention of Colt.
When he draws his eyes back up to mine, his features smooth over. “You finished him.”
He’s direct but not callous. I press my lips together and give the smallest nod in affirmation. No one else has said it. We all know, but we skirt the issue. I clear my throat.
A twitch in his cheek and the gleam in his eyes hints at pride. “Good. Does your mam know?”
“Not yet.” The words are clipped.
“What was all this about?”
I shift on my feet. “Colt’s dad.”
James’ full eyebrows pull together.
“Long story short, his dad is my stepfather. Somehow, he blamed me for that.”
His eyes darken and several beats pass before he responds. “I’m sorry you had to handle that on your own.”
I lack what feels like an appropriate response. I don’t blame anyone for what happened, nor do I wish anyone else had been there. The situation was shitty, and I did what I had to do. Anyone else being there would’ve escalated everything and made the whole thing that much more dire.
“Lots of people lookin’ out for you here.” He removes his hands from his pockets and scans the front porch. “Hope it didn’t cause a problem, me coming by.”
I can’t determine if he’s being authentic or not, and I realize there’s so much about him I don’t know.
“I think everyone is just on edge after what happened, and Sutton and I haven’t had a chance to discuss much.” A painful breath escapes me. “I’d like if we could all have dinner together or something.”
“We can. You know where to find me.” His face softens. “You did good, lass.”
As he turns to go, I swallow again, pushing down all the emotions rising to the surface. I don’t have time for all that right now. To uncover his meaning, or to decide whether or I not I think he’s right. I need to get off my feet.