Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TRIPP
W e sit just a little bit up from the church as we watch the funeral car pull into the parking lot. I turn to look at Riggs, his eyes are firmly settled on the car and we're waiting for him to make the move for us to go.
Dad is already there with the truck, just pulled around the corner so still out of sight.
I have no idea how this is going to go down. I am praying that it'll be smooth, that we can all be adults about this.
The sound of horse hooves has me and Pacey looking over our shoulder to see Marty, he was our town’s Livestock Commissioner. He has always been on our side.
“Afternoon,” he stops his horse between me and Riggs. “How's the land lying?” he asks, his eyes gazing across the same view as Riggs.
“All looks okay, just want to wait until the coffin is out of the car, don't want to stand around any longer than I have to.”
He gives a steady nod.
“Thanks for coming with us,” I murmur, tightening the rein on Bucky as he stamps his back hoof down.
“Sure thing, couldn't have you walking into war on your own,” he sort of smirks which gets a growl from Riggs.
“We're not walking into war, and we're not alone,” Riggs snaps at him a little too easily. He is nervous, I get it. I am too. Marty just laughs, shaking his head.
“Riggs buddy, you're walking into an all-out war. I don't see no white flags about to be waved, do you?” he questions, but Riggs says nothing as the coffin is pulled from the car and up onto the pallbearers shoulders, one of them being Wallen.
“It's time,” Riggs clicks his tongue into the roof of his mouth as he kicks Travis on, and we follow close behind.
Walking across the lot, heads turn to look at us just as dad climbs out the truck with the three girls and Austin. Harlow leads Austin towards us, and we bury him in-between the horses as we walk past the crowds and over to the horse rings to tie our boys up.
We can hear the hushed voices, but we hold our heads high as my dad follows behind the us.
Riggs halts, jumping down from the horse and once Travis is secured, me, Pacey and Marty dismount. The sound of hooves in the distance makes me lift my head to see a crowd of cowboys riding towards us and I look over at Marty.
“Couldn't have you go in there without your army,” he tilts his head, fingers holding the rim of his cowboy hat and I have never felt more thankful than I have now.
Most of these cowboys are from neighboring ranches, a few out of towners, but we all know each other, and of course, leading them is Hudson up front and center, our own cowboys tucked behind him and then my eyes settle on Conrad and I give him a firm nod, him returning it with a smile on his face.
Pacey whistles as he ties Chase up and one by one, we walk towards the door, Austin still safely nestled between us.
There is no way in hell he is going in without us. Harlow slips in beside him, fingers lacing just as Dixie stands next to me, Aspen next to Riggs and Marty stands shoulder to shoulder with Pacey.
Inhaling deeply, I feel Dixie’s fingers brush against mine just as I flex my fingers out. She turns to look at me, fear gallops through her eyes like wild horses, but they soon settle just as my fingers link with hers, palm to palm.
“I've got you,” I whisper as we slip into the stream of people walking behind the coffin as Clay makes his final journey and that's when we hear Go Rest High On That Mountain - Vince Gill begin to play as we enter the church.
We tuck ourselves out the back, the whispers still so loud and echoing around the small church, heads turn, eyes narrow and the main focus is on Austin.
Watching in silence as the coffin slips onto the catafalque, Wallen hanging back for just a moment, hand placed on the top of his brother’s coffin, head bowed, and his shoulders visibly shake.
I swallow down the lump.
I'm not sad for Clay. I'm sad with the situation. Sadness drowns me at the thought of being in Wallen's position as he lays his brother to rest, as he spends his final journey with the only family he has left.
The priest stands up front, clearing his throat as Wallen steps back, his head lifting and that's when his eyes settle on mine, then Riggs, then Pacey and lastly on Austin.
We all watch as his fists ball at his side, and that's when Riggs stretches his arm out, his hand pressed out as he hovers it in front of me and Pacey, a warning but also a protection to let Wallen know that no one is getting near his kid brothers.
Wallen finally slices his eyes away and tucks himself into a pew, whispering in an older man’s ear who then in turn looks over his shoulder, but he isn't looking at me or my brothers. He is looking at Dixie.
Lucian .
She whimpers next to me, hiding her face behind my arm, head down so her long brown hair hides her pretty face.
“I've got you,” I say quietly, tightening my grip on her hand.
Surprisingly, the service goes off without a hitch. Fanning out of the church, we decide to avoid the burial, but we are going to head straight to the wake.
The cowboys greet us, all sitting tall, shotguns in hand as they form a wall of horses.
Riggs gives them a tilt of his cowboy hat and Hudson kicks his horse on, breaking the formation and moving forward towards my dad's truck. We wait until the girls and Austin are safely inside before we mount our own horses. Half the cowboys break off and lead the truck towards Mules and the other half sit back and wait for us, Conrad stuck to our side too.
“Wasn't as bad as I predicted,” Marty half laughs, his horse circling.
“We still have the wake to get through,” Riggs grunts as he kicks his horse on.
“Well let’s all pray that it goes off without a hitch too then.”
We all let out a soft laugh, because we know if anything is going to kick off, it'll be at the wake.
The ride takes us about thirty minutes, which works well as we get there just before Wallen and the rest of the funeral attendees.
My eyes lift as I look up at the bar that sits in the middle of nowhere. Worn out panelled exterior that is desperate for a lick of paint, roof tiles slipped and sitting in some of the gutter. What the hell were they thinking holding it here?
Opening up Bucky’s rein, I turn him around and look at our surroundings. There is nothing here. We're sitting on a dusty parking lot.
Harlow, Aspen and Austin join us; Harlow still very much holding onto Austin's hand.
My brows furrow when I look over at the truck and see that Dixie is still sitting in there. Kicking Bucky on, I trot across the large, empty lot and jump down from the back of my horse, holding onto his reins as I duck my head down to look in the back of the truck.
“Hey, you okay?” I ask, her eyes pinned forward, fingers curled into the soft leather of the seats. I glance over at my dad, and he gives me a sombre look.
“No,” she whispers, and I don't miss the way her voice trembles.
“Baby...” it falls from my tongue, but I don't regret it. “Look at me.”
And she does. Red rimmed watery eyes land on mine.
“I promised you, didn't I? I swear it Dixie, Lucian isn't going to get near you,”
and she nods, and I hate that she is crying. “Come. Come stand with me,” I hold my hand out for her to take, and as she reaches her fingers out to me, I hear the sound of a gunshot echo around the parking lot.
Panic rings in my ears, screaming, drowning out my thoughts as I step back and slam the truck door. Footing the stirrup, I'm on Bucky's back within seconds as I turn him around and that's when everything moves in slow motion.
A rusty truck pulls into the parking lot, Wallen falls from the passenger side, pistol in hand as he aims it towards my brothers and Austin.
“Shit,” I am already pulling my gun out as I kick Bucky towards where Wallen is stomping across the lot, gun pointed at Austin.
I shoot in the air, trying to deter him when he points the gun at me, shooting twice towards me and I feel the reins go slack and Bucky goes down, taking me with him.
And that's when an all-out war kicks off, but in that moment, all I can hear is Dixie screaming.
Don’t get out the truck, don’t get out the truck.
I look towards the truck and my dad is clambering down and the fear is crippling me, the pain that radiates through me is nothing compared to the fear that I feel.
I scream out, Riggs looking over at me as I watch the next few moments pan out. Lucian is running for Wallen, just as he pulls the trigger once more and I am sure it hits Austin, but it's not until I see Aspen move to the floor, that I realise Austin is still standing.
Another guy who is with them is still shooting bullets, and I feel a hand in my gun belt. Eyes widening when I see Dixie.
“No, no, go get back in the truck,” I pant, the feel of Bucky’s weighted body crushing me a little more.
Her eyes are fuelled by gasoline, and I know I won’t stop her from walking into the god damn fire. She gives me a small smile before she is up and walking into the crowd, my gun loose in her hand as it hangs by her side and I watch as she lifts her arm slowly, aiming it towards where Wallen is standing. But just as she pulls the trigger, he steps back and she hits the guy who is reloading his gun, the bullet hitting through his temple as he falls to the ground like a sack of shit and I watch as she drops the gun as if it’s just burned her.
“Fuck,” I mutter, slightly in awe, slightly terrified.
Lucian whistles and drags Wallen into the waiting truck as it speeds off and that's when I see Harlow on the floor. Austin falling to his knees as he screams.
Marty and the cowboys are following the truck across the dead grassed fields, the sound of guns still echoing in the distance and I want to run to them, but I can't.
Bucky is dead.
Falling and crushing my leg underneath him as he died.
Tears wet my cheeks and it doesn't matter how much I scream and try to move him off me, I can't. A searing pain burns through my shoulder and it's not until I glance down, I see that I am bleeding. He shot me.
The upper half of my body falls back into the dusty ground beneath me, and I am frozen. I can't do anything.
All I can hear is Austin crying, Riggs shouting and Aspen trying to console her brother and that's when I feel hands on my head.
“It's okay son, you're going to be okay,” my dad is on his knees, lifting my head and resting it into his lap and I can't stop the tears that are flowing.
Rolling my head to the side, I see Riggs on the floor doing CPR on Harlow, Austin is sitting on the ground, knees tucked into his chest and Aspen is now the one screaming.
Conrad is on the phone, no doubt to emergency services and it's not until Conrad steps aside, I see Pacey on the ground, sobs pulling from his lungs as pain blankets him.
“Dad,” I croak, tapping his hands that are cupping my face. “Go be with Pacey, I'm fine,” I reassure him, and I can see how torn he feels. “He needs you more than me, dad.”
“Here, I'll stay,” Dixie says softly, tears streaming down her pretty face as she helps my dad up then takes his place, my head on her lap, her fingers brushing my hair from my face.
I watch as dad jogs over to where Pacey is laying, him unbuttoning his shirt before he falls to the ground and pushes it against Pacey's stomach as he screams.
And just as I roll my head around to look up at Dixie, my little dreamcatcher, the world around me goes black.