9. Ledger
Ledger
“And do you, Ledger Hayes, take Shiloh Sullivan to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the judge asks.
I swallow thickly, a little overwhelmed by how small her hands are in mine.
“I do,” I rasp.
He asks Shiloh, and she’s staring at me, and it’s not hate. At least she’s not mad at me for this. At least we’re on the same page.
“I do,” she says.
“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
I glance at the judge, and he smiles encouragingly at me. I’ve kissed a woman before, but for some reason I’m more nervous about kissing Shiloh than marrying her.
She smiles softly, and I lean in gently, taking her chin between my finger and thumb, pressing my lips to hers. It’s a brief peck, but it was enough to shake me — rattle me to my core.
We walk out of the courthouse hand in hand.
We don’t say a word. I think we’re both processing the fact that we’re married.
Shiloh is my wife. I’m her husband, and I’m not entirely sure what happened.
By the time we get back, it’s about 10:30 pm and she brushes past me to her room. A few minutes later I’m still standing there, not sure what to do next. She’s changed into cut-off shorts and a black tank top.
“I’m going to work,” she says, gathering her hair into a ponytail. Her ring catches my attention, reflecting in the light.
We’re married.
“Okay,” I mumble.
“Just so you know, I probably won’t be back until one or two in the morning. I don’t want you to think someone is breaking into the house and you shoot me.”
I lick my lips, concealing my smile. “Okay, not a problem. Thanks for letting me know.”
She hums and I glance at her, but our eyes hold together. Her cheeks turn pink, and I pull myself away to dig a key to the house out of the drawer and place it on the counter.
“My wife should probably have a key to her house.”
Her cheeks puff. “Yeah, that’s going to take some getting used to. Thanks,” she says, pocketing the key while our eyes hold together.
“No problem.”
She breaks the link, grabs her purse, and walks out the door.
Later that night, I haven’t slept a wink and I hear her come in at 1:30 in the morning and only then does my brain finally give in and I fall asleep.
Shiloh’s been here for a week. We’ve been like ships passing in the night, barely seeing each other. She’s in and out to change, or take a nap, then she’s back to work. I get it. I work a lot too, so it doesn’t bother me.
But I’ve learned some things, and maybe it’s because I’m living with a woman. Or maybe it’s simply Shiloh. I don’t know. But she leaves things half-done. There was a load of laundry in the dryer. Now, half of it is folded on top, and the other half is still sitting in the dryer.
She made breakfast for herself, loaded her stuff in the dishwasher, but left the pan in the sink. Why not clean it all or fold it all? I’m doing my best not to let it irritate me, but it does, and we still have a while to go before this is all over.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out expecting it to be one of the guys, but it’s my sister June.
June: Are you coming to dinner tonight?
Ledger: That was the plan. Did something change?
June: Yeah, Mom wants to go play bridge with her friends, and I think Dad is out with the guys at Perry’s.
Ledger: okay
June: you are the worst texter in the world. So, do you want to do something?
Ledger: Are there other options than going to the Wooden Cowboy or Perry’s because that’s always what we do.
June: Wow, someone’s grumpy today.
Ledger: No, I’m not
June: that’s what grumpy people say
June: okay so do you want to do something?
The door from the garage opens, and I glance up, seeing Shiloh walk in, wearing her little diner outfit and exhaustion written all over her face.
I look back at my phone and the feeling is unusual for me: indecision.
I pride myself on my decisiveness. It’s a necessity in my line of work. But right now it’s not helpful at all.
Shiloh smiles, walking past me and grabbing a glass from the cabinet. She fills it to the brim and takes a long drink.
I stare at her throat as it bobs with each swallow, and glance at my phone again.
“Everything okay?” Shiloh asks.
I cough and focus only on my phone. “Yeah, fine.”
Ledger: No, I have some work to catch up on.
June: Dude, you are always working
Ledger: Takes one to know one, Ms. Vet.
June: Yeah, well, I’m running my own business, plus I am the queen of work hard, play hard.
Ledger: Don’t play too hard
June: OMFG CALM DOWN
Ledger: Is everyone still coming for Sunday dinner?
June: far as I know
Ledger: cool
June: You are so annoying
I smile, putting my phone down. My sister June is a pistol, and she always has been.
She’s a year older than me, but most of the time she feels like our little sister because she’s always getting herself into something and we are not only constantly getting her out of it, but when she was younger, no guy would touch her because that meant he’d have to face me, my brothers, and my best friend Sterling.
“Have you had dinner yet?” she asks.
I shake my head.
“Cool, I’ll make it.” She slips past me and starts pulling out a pot and sauce pan.
“You don’t have to do that,” I tell her.
“Gotta eat, don’t you?”
My stomach twists, but it’s not in a bad way. It’s something I have no business entertaining because none of this is real. “Yeah, I suppose.”
“I hope you like …” she trails off and opens the fridge, rummaging around until she comes out with chicken and some vegetables. “Honestly, I don’t know what this will be, but this is what will be in it.”
Not sure if I should agree to this, I nod. “Do you need help?” I ask her.
“Sure, help me find the rice and some cornstarch.”
I go to the pantry to my left and dig out a bag of rice and pull out the container of cornstarch.
“Okay, that’s it. Leave me be,” she says and waves me away.
I glance at the couch. I could turn on the game or keep working on the puzzle on my coffee table.
Instead, I slide onto a stool at the island and watch her cook.
And I tell myself it’s because she might need help, though she seems to be perfectly capable in this kitchen as if she’s been living here for years.
Thirty minutes later, she slides a plate full of orange chicken with peppers and onions on a bed of rice in front of me.
“Yes, your wife can cook,” she grins.
I chuckle as we sit down at the table, and I take a bite, trying to hide my surprise. I don’t know why I’m surprised because I watched her cook all of it, but it’s delicious.
“Well?” she asks with wide, curious eyes.
I nod and finish chewing. “It’s great.”
She smiles nervously as if my opinion matters. It makes me wonder if Grey ever thanked her, let alone told her good job. He probably didn’t, if I had to guess.
“When we were in high school, what made you like Grey?” I ask her.
She slows her chewing and gives me a look.
In her defense, the question is out of nowhere, but I want to know. She’s not who I thought she was, and I’m starting to think that she was simply pulled into the wrong crowd because they accepted her.
“Why do you want to know?” she asks with an edge of hesitation.
I shrug. “Call it curiosity.”
She pouts and takes a bite. “I don’t know if it was one thing to be honest. We grew up together, you know that.
I think a little of it, when I was young, was because he gave me attention.
It’s not my father’s fault because he was working a lot to keep the lights on.
I’m an only child, so I got lonely pretty easily.
Grey sort of lived down the street from me, so it made sense. ”
She pauses, chewing.
“As we got older, though, I think it was because he was my first everything. He was all I knew, and in small town Paxton, I recognize that’s not a lot, but I don’t know why it would matter either. Does that make sense?”
I nod. “Just because it’s simple doesn't mean it’s bad.”
“Exactly, I mean I’m pretty sure half of every graduating class from Paxton High ends up married to each other or to someone in the next town over. Only a handful actually leave.”
“Did you ever want to leave Paxton?” I ask her. There was a day I thought about it, but my family is here, the ranch is here. I won’t be a sheriff my entire life, but I’ll be a cowboy forever.
“Yeah,” she sighs. “I thought maybe there was something bigger and better out there. Maybe where Grey and I could make good money, give our kids what we never had,” she says sadly. “There was a day when that dream kept me going. But…” she trails off and pushes her food around.
I don’t know why I say it, but I don’t like seeing her sad. She’s a spitfire, full of energy, and bites back. I like that about her. “It doesn’t mean you can’t still have that dream.”
She huffs. “With my husband?” she chuckles.
“No, I didn’t—”
She grins. “I’m messing with you, but yeah, maybe.”
“I didn’t want to leave Paxton, honestly, with my family you can’t. The ranch stays in the family. It doesn’t matter if you want a different career. I don’t mind it, but if I couldn’t leave Paxton, I wanted to do something else other than be a cowboy, at least for a bit.”
“So you wanted to be a lawman?” she asks, the corner of her mouth tipped up.
“And you wanted to be a criminal?” I throw back.
Shiloh throws her head back on a laugh and suddenly cuts it off, holding her side. “Don’t make me laugh.”
I roll my lips together. “I’m not known for doing that anyway.”
Shiloh snorts. “So you’re the Sheriff and a cowboy. That’s quite a combination.”
“Life is boring being one thing,” I say.
It also helps with the loneliness. I have a great family and friends, but sometimes you’re on your own.
There’s no one to come home to. It feels like there’s something missing.
It’s as if everything is whole, but it’s not …
complete. “I’d love to be one thing,” she whispers, avoiding eye contact.
“Why?”
She looks up and I really see it. The exhaustion on her face, the circles under her eyes. She’s working herself to the bone. But for what?