Chapter 3 Briar
brIAR
I slept like absolute crap. One eye open and constantly waking up all night until the sun rose around eight a.m. Less than three hours of sleep should be enough for my first day here since I don’t plan on leaving the house for anything.
Roman may not scare me as much as he wishes he did, but this creaky house put the fear of God into me. Either there are rats in the walls or the wind is enough to blow this place to the ground.
Ugh. Whatever. I stumble half asleep through the crowded hallways to the kitchen. God, my uncle was a hoarder. There’s not a room in this old house that isn’t packed with black containers and cardboard boxes. The only room semi-organized is the one with his computer.
I scowl at the pantry that’s filled to the brim with empty boxes and not a scrap of food. Just like that, my hopes of finding coffee deflate. If I don’t have my caffeine fix in the morning, you can consider me a grump for the rest of the day.
A sharp knock comes from the back door as I’m wallowing about the lack of coffee. My entire body stiffens, and my breath catches in my lungs as I glance over my shoulder.
The back door is a flimsy white chipped-paint wood, one with a window cut out. I damn near have a heart attack when my eyes connect with a stranger’s.
He’s wearing well-worn work clothing that fits the ranch hand vibe: a plaid unbuttoned shirt and a baseball cap that’s moth-eaten along some of the sleeves. He has a scruffy beard that’s just a little longer than a five o’clock shadow and a jawline that is practically sculpted from marble.
A surprised expression must etch into my face because the stranger grins, lifting both of his hands innocently and saying loud enough for me to hear through the glass, “I’m Grahm, the ranch hand. Did Mr. Holland tell you about me?”
I nod absently and walk over to the door. “Did he tell you my name?” I ask, furrowing my brows. I don’t trust him just because he knows about Mr. Holland and the fact that my uncle had an employee. Anyone in Bane Falls could know that.
Grahm nods, keeping those cool, summer-green eyes on me.
“Chloe, right?” he replies. Unlike the guys last night, Grahm actually sounds like he’s from here.
He has a subtle accent. One that instantly distinguishes him as a cowboy.
Not southern, just a northwestern cowboy living out in the plains of Montana.
I frown at hearing my real name, but only Mr. Holland knew it so Grahm must be legit. I sigh and give him an apologetic smile. “Yes, please come in.” I unlock the door and let Grahm in. “I changed my name to Briar, though. So please don’t repeat the other name.”
He takes in my sour tone and just when I think he’s going to be curious enough to ask about it, he just pats my shoulder roughly. I blink up at him, waking up more with the hard pats.
“Rough night, Briar?” He winks at me with the emphasis he puts on my name. I crack a smile and nod.
“You have no idea.”
Grahm looks around the trashed kitchen and then back down at me.
“Want some coffee? I could use a cup before we dive into the Thornton Farm conversation.” He rubs the back of his neck and has a forlorn look on his face.
I wonder if he was close to my uncle. This must be hard for him.
It makes me feel out of place because I’m not sad about his death.
I didn’t know him very well and only met him a handful of times.
“I’d love some coffee.” I motion my hand to the pajamas I have on. “Let me get changed first. I’ll meet you out front in five.” He nods and heads back outside.
I throw on my only other pair of jeans—the ones not caked in mud from last night—and slip into a tank top before heading out the door.
Grahm is leaning up against his truck, an old cherry-red pickup.
It’s in pristine condition. I’m impressed and a little hopeful for what he can help get done around the farm.
“Hop on in.” Grahm smiles and crosses to the driver’s side.
I get in and melt into the passenger seat.
I’m so tired and worn down from the night prior, and I hadn’t thought of the bruises that are showing before I put this tank top on.
My wrists definitely reveal that I’ve been restrained, and my elbows are scraped up and bruised too.
That pretty-faced asshole, I fume thinking about Roman.
If Grahm notices them, he doesn’t bring them up. Thank God.
He’s quiet for a few minutes as we get on the road heading into town before he speaks up. “Did you find your way into town all right?”
I hate small talk, but I relent. “Yeah, as much as a twenty-five-year-old with no phone service or a map can navigate.” Grahm casts me a sidelong glance, grinning and running his hand over his scruffy beard.
“Shoot, I should’ve told that attorney that I’d meet you at the fork in the interstate. Lots of out-of-towners lose service coming in and get lost. Glad to see you made it, though.”
Yeah, that would’ve saved my entire crappy night if he’d met me there to guide me back.
I wouldn’t have been lost for hours and likely would’ve deterred the guy casing the farm.
Which reminds me. “There was someone at the farm when I pulled in last night, actually. It really freaked me out. Is that common around here?”
Grahm lets out an irritated huff. “Not usually, but as of late there’s been an uptick in reports of people snooping through abandoned properties. Unfortunately, Sheriff Murray doesn’t have anything to go on and nothing’s been stolen or broken into, so he’s not taking it as a high-level concern.”
I glower. This sheriff sounds like the worst guy for the job. “Not surprising, considering he closes the station at eight p.m.,” I grumble and cross my arms around my ribs.
“How’d you know that? Did you have to go to the station last night?” Worry flares across Grahm’s face. At least he is a normal human being who reacts the way people should.
I lift a shoulder and firm my lips at what unfolded last night. “No, but I tried calling from that twenty-four-hour diner out by the farm.”
Grahm hits the brakes, and I damn near fly out of my seat. I brace my hands on the dash and give him a wild look.
“What the hell!”
His face is serious. “You went to the Rose Diner? Are you okay?” His eyes drag over me with new enlightenment behind them. My elbows are freshly bruised and scraped up, and so are my hands. I don’t even want him to look at my wrists. It’s evident something happened out there.
“I was trying to use the pay phone, and that’s when I found out the police suck ass in this town. But then this little biker gang roped me into sitting with them and—” Grahm’s mortified expression brings me to a halt.
“They did this to you?” His tone is half-furious and half-mortified.
My brows pinch together. “No. Not them. Their little ringleader, Roman.” I don’t keep the disdain out of my voice.
Grahm’s hand goes straight over his face, and he drags it down like he’s just been dealt a shitty hand in a game of cards.
“You need to steer clear of them. They’re bad news, Briar.
Not knock you up bad news, but people have gone missing in our town since they arrived bad news.
” His voice is stern and genuine enough that I nod in agreement.
It’s clear that Grahm only wants the best for me while I’m here. Although I think they are also knock you up bad news too. Amusement spreads across my lips.
“I’m not kidding. If you see them, you run the other way. Got it?”
I lean back in the uncomfortable seat and nod. “What’s their deal anyway?”
Grahm takes a steadying breath and puts the truck back into Drive.
The town is finally coming into view over the horizon of hayfields.
“They don’t cause any trouble during the day, but it’s a different story at night.
And no one can prove shit, so they’ve never been met with the law.
I tend to keep my nose out of the townies’ drama, but I know they keep a tight crew and only mess around with those who Roman approves of.
I’m guessing Roman didn’t approve of you. ”
I roll my eyes and stare out the window at the cows and horses in the distance. “Fucking cult.”
Grahm chuckles. “Exactly. Something ain’t right with them. You stick to the farm and town, don’t go out at night unless you’re with someone.” I lift a brow at him. I appreciate the concern and advice, but he’s starting to sound a little controlling.
“So, about the farm…” I change the subject.
We both order coffee at the Cow Bean Café and sit in the dining area while we discuss what the future of the farm holds.
The café is endearing, small and quiet with a handful of regulars I’m guessing by the way they chat casually with the lady at the register.
The atmosphere is nice too. This is a great alternative to the diner.
Which is a bummer because I really did like its food.
Not so much the service. I purse my lips as I recall Lana’s rude glares willing me to leave the moment I sat down.
I tell him that I have no intentions of staying long-term. I just want to get the property cleaned up to sell. I consider telling him about the flash drive but decide it might not be a good idea until I get to know him more.
Grahm is a nice guy and agrees to my offer of paying him after the sale of the property. By the time we’re wrapping up our conversation, it’s already almost noon.
“Can we start tomorrow? I’m pretty exhausted from the long night,” I say sheepishly as I place my cup at the edge of the table where the waitress can pick it up.
Grahm stretches his arms over his head and leans back in the chair across from me.
His knees bump into mine gently, and my eyes catch on the abs that peek out from his rising shirt.
He catches me looking, and my cheeks warm instantly.
“You should come out to the party tonight. It’ll be good for you to meet the townsfolk and loosen up from yesterday.
Not everyone in Bane Falls is a jerk, you know. ”
I consider his words. Normally I would be quick to decline the invite, but I could really use some alcohol and a little bit of fun. If Grahm’s going, then it might be worth attending. He’s giving flirting energy that I’m eagerly returning.
“I might actually take you up on that.” I grin, trying to hide the flush of heat that races across my cheeks.
He licks his lips, and the motion draws my attention there. “I can drive. I’ll be at your farm at nine.”
My eyes narrow playfully. “Didn’t you just tell me never to go out at night?”
“Unless you’re with someone,” he clarifies with that smooth voice, and he casts a wink my way. “I’ve got you, Thornton.”
“Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t even know your last name,” I tease with my nose wrinkled playfully.
“Grahm Sutherland.” He sets down a twenty to cover the bill. I open my mouth to protest, but he shushes me.
“Sutherland,” I mock, and he snorts.
“Coffee was my idea. Besides, you can pay me back after we sell the farm.” He tips his baseball hat at the waitress.
“Have a nice day, Grahm!” she chirps as we exit. Unlike the hostess from last night, this one gives me a bright smile that I return easily. Okay, at least the daytime people here are much better than the night crowd.
Grahm tells me about a few of the shops as he drives through Main Street on his way to dropping me back off at the farm. We share a few laughs, and by the time we’re pulling into my driveway, I’m giddy and looking forward to seeing him again.
“See you tonight, Thornton.” He dips his head in that sexy way he did with the waitress, but he holds my gaze for a few seconds longer.
“Nine sharp, Sutherland. Unless you want to prove to me that there are more assholes in Bane Falls,” I shout as I walk backward toward the house.
He gives me one of those smiles that can knock you over, the kind that meets his eyes and makes me want to go buy a pair of overalls to fit his farm-town vibe.
“If I ain’t fifteen minutes early, I’m late.” His accent brings a grin to my lips. He doesn’t wait for me to respond before he peels out of the driveway, kicking up dirt as he waves out his window. I catch his bright smile in the driver’s side mirror, and he watches me beam one right back at him.
Holy shit. Okay.
I’m going to forget everything crappy that happened yesterday.
I deserve to have a little fun tonight.