Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
TRIPP
W alking at a steady pace, I force myself not to look behind at the girl I once loved. The one that broke my heart into a million pieces. I have never recovered, and that’s the truth. She broke me in ways I didn't even know was possible, but I made peace knowing that I would never see her again. Small town girl turned country singer. She ran so far away from this town. Her mom died young, and her dad couldn’t cope with his grief, so while he was physically around he certainly wasn’t present. That meant Dixie was left bringing up her younger sister, Lainey, who passed away twelve years ago after being hit by a drunk driver. That day changed the chemicals in her brain. She never was the same brown haired, wide blue-eyed teen I remembered from high school. She soon dropped out then disappeared after a shitty goodbye.
We planned our lives together, but that plan was wrecked as soon as she drove away. The scout came at the perfect time, and he took the only girl I had ever loved.
Climbing the steps to the front door, I hear her daughter fussing as I twist the knob and step inside my childhood home.
“Ma,” I call out, turning and handing the diaper bag to Dixie then dump her suitcase to the ground and watch as it tumbles. Her wide, ocean blue eyes scan the room and memories flood me in an instant, but I shut them down. I don't need to revisit old heartache.
Her daughter begins to cry and I watch as Dixie falls to the ground, rooting through the bag for something and I turn away. Heart scorned, eyes stinging. I made peace that she had gone, and now she's back and making me feel again. I hate it.
My mom walks through the dining room, dark brown hair in a neat, low bun. For a ranch wife, she is always impeccably dressed.
“Tripp?”
Her eyes land on Dixie, mouth a gape before her eyes are on me, silently asking me what the hell is going on.
“Dixie crashed her car at the top of the ranch, hit the sign...” I mumble off, scrubbing my face with my hand. I'm tired. So damn tired. We have so much going on, we really didn’t need this right now.
“Oh my goodness,” my mom mutters, throwing her hand towel over her shoulder. Dixie is still crouched down and honestly looks like tears are going to shed in her pretty blue eyes.
“I've called Rusty to come and collect her car,” I am still rambling, but my mom isn't listening. She is over helping Dixie up off the floor and dragging the diaper bag with her.
“What do you need love?” my mom's voice is soft, as she ushers Dixie forward and leads her to the living room and I stay still, feet anchored, muddy boots all over my mom's floor.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I slip it out to see Rusty's name flashing.
“Yeah?“
“Just pulling up, come out and give me a hand.” The phone goes silent.
I grab my cowboy hat and place it on my head, turning and walking back out of the door without saying a word. My mom will look after Dixie, and I can go back to my evening and forget this ever happened.
She broke my heart once, I've fixed it, patched it all back up and I'm not about to let the band aids peel away.
I'm not the lovesick teen I was when she left, I am a grown ass man who fixed himself back together again, piece by piece.
Jogging up the dimly lit driveway, I see the bright headlights of Rusty's truck.
Evening is setting in and the sun is getting ready to dip behind the heavy white clouds and all I can think about is my whiskey that I left sitting in the back-room office.
“Tripp,” Rusty's deep southern accent fills the open space as he jumps down from the cab of his truck.
“Rusty,” I tilt my head as I stop in front of him, hands on hips.
“Was the driver okay?” He asks as he presses the button to lower the bed of his truck, the small crane hook swinging.
“Yeah, she's up at the house,” and I see his brows raise.
“Mom is just checking her and her kid over,” I mutter, watching as the hook rests on the dusty floor.
“Out of towner?”
I sigh.
“Yeah.”
Not about to tell him my whole life story. Rusty was in our school, but a couple of years older. Always a nice kid. Never caused any trouble.
He kneels down, hooking the back of the car before he stands.
“Push against that sign as I tow the car up, then you can go about fixing it,” he winks, and a chuckle leaves me. I do as he asks. I round the front of the car and push against the damaged sign that Dixie ran her car into.
The motor kicks in and slowly, the back end of Dixie's car is pulled up before Rusty secures it.
“All good?”
“All good,” he nods, placing the control back in its holder and lifting his hat from his head.
“See you down The Boot tomorrow?” he waits for my answer.
“Maybe, see how things are,” I nod slowly, swallowing the lump that's lodged in my throat. So much is going on that the days are rolling into one.
“Of course, well, thanks for the call. I'll let you know when the car is fixed up. Should be a couple of days if I have the parts… longer if I have to order them,“ he shrugs one shoulder up and turns.
“Sure, thanks.”
I stand on the bank of grass and watch as he tows Dixie's car into the sunset, and once again I am left alone with my haunted thoughts.
Kicking my boots off, I place my hat on the coat rack and lift my head listening out for noise.
“Ma?” My voice echoes around the silent house. I have no idea where Pacey is. Dad is with Buck. Riggs and Aspen are up Crooked Valley. And me? I'm here. Like always.
My legs move towards the living room but it's empty. Walking through the large dining room, I enter the kitchen but I’m met with the same emptiness.
“Ma!” I shout at the bottom of the wide staircase, and that's when I see Dixie standing at the top of the stairs.
Hate to admit that she looks like a god damn angel.
Long brown hair cascading over one shoulder, beautiful blue eyes that shimmer in any light like the sun reflecting off the ocean, pouty lips, buttoned nose. Her sun kissed shoulders are on show, a white off the shoulder dress wrapped around her figure. I didn’t even get a chance to let my eyes scope over her until now.
“She's just setting up the guest room.”
It's the first time she has said more than two words to me.
“Guest room?” My brows raise.
I watch as she slowly steps down the stairs, fingers knotted together.
“Yeah...” she looks over her shoulder, “just for tonight, I mean...”
“Cool,” I shut the conversation down in that second and storm towards the back of the house, slamming the door shut and instantly wince when I hear the sound of a baby crying.
Shit.
I fall into my chair, cradling my whisky and rubbing my hand across my mouth.
What the fuck am I going to do.