Chapter 21
Connor
“Alright, I need some volunteers,” Larry said the moment he pulled up in the ATV.
He looked positively irritated. Then again, he’d looked like ever since Ryder had left nearly a month ago now.
“Pete’s trying to save face, and he told Pastor John that he’d send over some boys to help set up for the annual rummage sale. ”
“So… is this a volunteer thing or a mandatory thing?” Joey asked, lifting an eyebrow in Larry’s direction.
“It’s mandatory,” Larry replied, letting out a big sigh. “And I need all of you.”
I groaned along with the rest of the guys.
Just what I wanted, to spend my day doing Pete McGrath’s charity work to improve his image.
Ever since Ryder left, Pete had been desperate to salvage his reputation in town.
Apparently, sending his ex-con laborers to help with church functions was his latest attempt at damage control.
“Come on,” Greg muttered beside me. “We’ve been working since dawn. Can’t he find someone else to play volunteer?”
Larry shot him a warning look. “You want to take that complaint to Pete directly? Be my guest.”
Greg immediately shut up, and I couldn’t blame him.
None of us wanted to draw Pete’s attention these days.
He’d been on a hair trigger since his confrontation with Evelyn, looking for any excuse to send one of us back to prison.
Sam had been the first casualty, but we all knew he wouldn’t be the last if Pete had his way.
“When do we need to be there?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral despite my racing thoughts. Church meant town. Town meant the possibility of seeing Ryder.
“Now,” Larry said, checking his watch. “Pastor John’s expecting us in twenty minutes. So load up.”
We piled into the back of the ranch truck, a dusty old Ford that had seen better days.
I wedged myself between Darius and Joey, my mind spinning with possibilities.
I hadn’t seen Ryder in over a week, not since our day at the cabin.
We’d managed to exchange a few notes through Evelyn, but it wasn’t enough.
And I missed him with an intensity that scared me.
As we bumped along the dirt road toward town, I fingered the key that still hung around my neck, hidden beneath my shirt. I’d taken to wearing it all the time, a constant reminder of what was waiting for me when my parole ended. Just a little under four months left. It felt like an eternity.
“You think they’ll feed us?” Joey asked, breaking the silence. “Church ladies always have good food.”
“If you’re lucky,” Larry called back from the driver’s seat. “But we’re there to work, not eat.”
The drive into Hell Creek took about fifteen minutes. As we passed through the small downtown, I couldn’t help scanning the sidewalks and storefronts, hoping for a glimpse of strawberry blond hair. But there was no sign of Ryder.
We pulled up to the small white church at the edge of town. Its wooden steeple reached toward the clear blue sky, a picture-perfect small-town scene. Tables had been set up on the lawn, and a few older women were already sorting through boxes of donations.
“Ah, here they are!” Pastor John called, waving as we climbed out of the truck. He was a middle-aged man with kind eyes and a genuine smile, one of the few people in town who treated us parolees like actual human beings. “Thank you all for coming to help.”
“Pete’s orders,” Larry said, shaking the pastor’s hand.
“Well, I think you’ll earn some heaven points either way,” the pastor chuckled. “We’re just glad to have some muscle around here. I’m afraid the usual volunteers are geriatric and not much help setting up tents.”
I looked around at the church lawn, taking in the scene. Several elderly women were bustling about, organizing piles of clothing and household items on folding tables. A few men were struggling with a large canvas tent that kept collapsing on one side. The whole setup looked like organized chaos.
“We’ve got tents to raise, tables to arrange, and boxes to carry from the basement,” Pastor John explained, gesturing toward the church. “Mrs. Wilkins has been collecting donations all year, and I’m afraid they’ve taken over our Sunday school rooms.”
Larry divided us up quickly, sending Joey and Darius to help with the tents while Greg and Kyle were assigned to table duty. I got stuck with basement detail, which meant hauling boxes up a narrow staircase for the next few hours.
“Connor, you head down with Pastor John,” Larry instructed. “And remember, best behavior. This is a church and Pete doesn’t like to look bad in front of the only deity that might forgive him for what he’s done.”
I nodded and followed the pastor through the side door of the church. The basement was cool and dimly lit, with concrete floors and walls lined with metal shelving. And true to his word, it was packed with cardboard boxes, plastic bins, and garbage bags full of donations.
“We’ve been blessed with generous parishioners this year,” Pastor John said with a smile that didn’t quite hide his exhaustion. “Though perhaps too generous.”
I let out a low whistle. This was going to take all damn day.
I got to work, creating a relay system where Pastor John pointed out which boxes needed to go up first and I carried them up to the lawn where they were passed off to others.
The rhythm of the work was almost meditative, and I found my mind wandering to Ryder.
Was he working at Nelson Ranch today? Had he thought about me as much as I’d thought about him?
I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost didn’t register the voices drifting down from the top of the stairs.
“...just need to drop these off for the sale. Cole insisted.”
My head snapped up at the familiar voice. Ryder. He was here.
“Of course, dear,” an elderly woman replied. “Just bring them down to the basement. The boys are sorting things there.”
I froze, a box of old kitchen appliances suspended in my arms. My heart hammered in my chest as footsteps approached the stairs. Then he appeared, backing down carefully with a large box in his arms, completely unaware of my presence.
He was wearing a faded blue T-shirt that hugged his shoulders, his strawberry blond hair slightly longer than when I’d last seen him. The sight of him sent a jolt through my system that was equal parts joy and panic. What if someone saw us together?
“Ryder,” I said softly, unable to stop myself.
He turned so quickly he almost lost his grip on the box. His green eyes widened, a flash of surprise followed immediately by a smile that lit up his entire face.
“Connor,” he breathed, and for a moment, we just stared at each other, both frozen in place. I hadn’t expected to see him here, and clearly, he hadn’t expected to see me either.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, setting his box down on a nearby table.
“Pete’s idea of community service,” I replied, placing my own box down. “Trying to repair his reputation after everything that happened.”
Ryder snorted, rolling his eyes. “Of course he is. Always thinking about himself.”
He looked good. Actually, better than good. There was a new confidence in the way he carried himself, a steadiness that hadn’t been there before. Working at Nelson Ranch clearly agreed with him.
“You look great,” I said, unable to stop myself. I glanced toward the stairwell, making sure we were alone. “How have you been?”
“Good,” he replied, taking a cautious step closer.
“Really good, actually. Jesse’s teaching me the business side of ranching, and Cole’s showing me some new techniques for managing the herd.
And I’m actually helping them run the place.
It’s nice to just… I don’t know… do something useful for a change. ”
The pride in his voice made my chest tighten. This was what he deserved, people who believed in him, who saw his potential.
“I got your notes,” I said quietly. “From Evelyn.”
He smiled, and God, I’d missed that smile. “I got yours too. It’s not enough, though.”
“No,” I agreed. “It’s not.”
We stood there, a careful distance between us, though every cell in my body was screaming to close the gap. It had only been a week since our day at the cabin, but it felt like months.
“How bad is it?” Ryder asked, his voice dropping lower. “At the ranch?”
I shrugged, trying to downplay it. “Your father’s on the warpath. Watches us like hawks. But Larry’s doing what he can to run interference.”
Ryder’s face darkened. “I’m sorry. If I’d known he’d take it out on you guys—”
“Don’t,” I interrupted. “This isn’t your fault. None of it.”
Before he could respond, we heard footsteps on the stairs. Ryder immediately stepped back, putting more distance between us. A moment later, Pastor John appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
“Ah, Ryder! Good to see you, son,” he said warmly. “I see you’ve met Connor.”
“Yeah,” Ryder nodded, his face a perfect mask of casual indifference. “We’ve run into each other at the ranch before.”
I marveled at how easily the lie rolled off his tongue, how quickly he could slip into that role of casual acquaintance. It was a reminder of how good he’d gotten at hiding his true self.
“Well, since you’re both here, would you mind bringing up those boxes of Christmas decorations?” Pastor John asked, pointing to a stack in the corner. “Someone donated their entire collection, and Mrs. Thompson is making a special trip here tomorrow to buy some for the elementary school.”
“Absolutely,” I nodded, grateful for the legitimate excuse to spend more time with Ryder. “We can handle those.”
“Perfect. I’ll leave you boys to it then,” Pastor John said, heading back up the stairs. “Just bring them to the Christmas table when you’re done.”
As soon as his footsteps faded, Ryder’s carefully constructed mask slipped away. He moved toward me with purpose, grabbing my wrist and pulling me behind a tall stack of boxes where we couldn’t be seen from the stairs.
“We have about two minutes,” he whispered, his eyes darting to the stairwell before returning to mine. “Please kiss me.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I cupped his face in my hands and pressed my lips to his, feeling him melt against me instantly.
The familiar taste of him sent electricity racing through my veins.
His hands fisted in my shirt, pulling me closer as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. It was desperate and needy and perfect.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, I rested my forehead against his. “God, I’ve missed you,” I murmured.
“Me too,” he replied, his fingers tracing the outline of the key beneath my shirt. “I’ve been wearing your ring every day.”
The thought of him walking around with my cock ring, a secret reminder of who he belonged to, made heat pool in my groin. I was about to tell him exactly what I wanted to do to him when we heard voices at the top of the stairs.
We sprang apart just as Pastor John appeared with Cole and Jesse in tow.
My heart jumped to my throat and for a moment, I almost felt the biting steel of handcuffs calling me back to Montana State. We were toast.
“There you are,” Cole called, his eyes flickering between us with barely concealed amusement. “Evelyn’s looking for you, Ryder. Something about needing help with the bake sale setup.”
“Right,” Ryder nodded, smoothing down his shirt. “I’ll be right up.”
As Cole and Jesse retreated, Pastor John lingered, his gaze thoughtful as it moved between Ryder and me. There was something knowing in his expression that made my stomach drop. Had he seen us? Or worse, heard us?
“I should get these Christmas boxes up,” I said quickly, reaching for the nearest container.
“I’ll help,” Ryder offered, grabbing another box.
We worked in tense silence, acutely aware of Pastor John’s presence. He didn’t say anything, just watched us with that same contemplative look, one that made me worry for my future in Hell Creek. When we had stacked all the boxes by the stairs, ready to carry up, he finally spoke.
“You know,” the pastor said quietly, “the church is hosting a special dinner after the rummage sale. Everyone’s welcome.” His eyes met mine directly. “Everyone, Connor. No matter what others might think.”
I blinked, unsure how to respond. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
“The sale runs until five,” Pastor John continued. “But the dinner starts at six. Just something to think about.” He patted me on the shoulder. “And don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”
I stood there, stunned into silence. Pastor John knew about us. How much he’d seen or heard, I couldn’t say, but he definitely knew something was happening between Ryder and me. And instead of condemnation, he was offering... acceptance?
“Thank you,” Ryder said, recovering faster than I could. “That’s really kind of you.”
Pastor John smiled warmly. “This church is a sanctuary for all of god’s children. Not just the ones who fit a certain mold.” He gave me another meaningful look before heading up the stairs, leaving us alone once more.
“Well,” I said when his footsteps had faded, “that was unexpected. And we need to be more careful.”
Ryder let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing. “Yeah. But he’s always been different from the rest of the town. More... accepting.”
“You think he’ll really keep it to himself?”
“Pastor John’s kept more secrets than anyone knows,” Ryder said with certainty. “Trust me, we’re safe with him.”
I wanted to believe that, but seven years in prison had taught me not to trust easily. Still, there had been something genuine in the pastor’s eyes, something that made me want to believe him.
“We should probably get these boxes upstairs,” I said, reaching for one of the Christmas decorations. “Before someone else comes looking.”
Ryder nodded, picking up another box. “Will you come? To the dinner, I mean.”
I hesitated. The thought of sitting in a church hall with the locals, many of whom looked at me like I was something they’d scraped off their boots, wasn’t appealing.
But the thought of seeing Ryder again, of spending more time with him, even in a crowded room where we’d have to pretend to be nothing more than acquaintances. ..
“I’ll try,” I said finally. “If I can get away from the ranch.”
The smile that lit up his face was worth any risk. “That would be amazing.”
“But no more kissing in public,” I said sternly. “I… I don’t want to stir up trouble.”
“S-Sorry,” Ryder said, hanging his head.
I reached out, tipping his chin up with my finger. “It’s not your fault, pup. I just want to be careful.”
My parole couldn’t end fast enough.