Chapter Seventeen
The Bennet Ranch
Sam woke up to sunlight streaming across her face. Her first thought was where the hell am I?
But then everything came crashing back. She closed her eyes again. She did not want to live this particular life. She wanted to be home. Alone.
And yes, she would probably mope around the house and cry over Nate’s things and how unfair this was, and that wasn’t very productive. But at least she’d be alone with her emotional upheaval. Alone with her despair and terror. Alone was always better.
She thought about yesterday. She’d been a zombie with Cal and Aly. She’d cried on Landon Bennet of all people. How was that not humiliating?
Maybe she’d chalk up that talk with Landon, crying on him, to just a weird dream. Landon would probably like to pretend it was too.
But it had eased something inside of her.
Oh, she didn’t feel better or good or even hopeful, but there was something about knowing they were all trying to save Nate that made it feel less like a losing endeavor.
Maybe she couldn’t believe that innocence mattered when there were people out there dedicated to ignoring the truth, but she could believe that they would all … try. And maybe with help, she didn’t have to fail this time.
So maybe, just maybe, alone wasn’t always better.
It was all she had. Because if she didn’t focus on the truth, if she didn’t focus on all the ways she’d failed, she’d have to think of Nate in one of those awful cells.
She’d have to think of every stilted, uncomfortable meeting with her father in jail, promising him she’d get him out. Over and over.
Jumpsuit. Handcuffs. The way prison winnowed everything away from a person until there was only a shell left. A physical and emotional representation of all her fervent and broken promises.
Like Nate hadn’t already endured e-damn-nough.
She pushed out of the bed. Scowled at the pretty, sunny spring day outside the window. She considered changing her clothes, but that sounded exhausting. Especially since she didn’t even remember what she’d thrown into that bag when Cal had taken her to the house.
She wasn’t hungry—her stomach was tied in too many knots—but her head ached, and she thought part of that could be assuaged by some coffee. So she might as well face Aly.
Who would fuss.
Sam was halfway down the stairs before she realized if she wanted to avoid it, she could stay in her room. Sure, Aly would bring her up some breakfast and fuss a bit, but if Sam really refused to leave that room, she would be alone for most of the day.
So for all of Sam’s internal talk about wanting to be alone, her actions weren’t exactly matching that. The most uncomfortable realization was that this self-awareness was thanks to Landon of all people.
Shaking her head, she walked into the kitchen. Maybe she was a little hungry. She could choke something down with her coffee. Aly was certainly a better cook than Sam was.
Sam paused in her movement toward the coffee pot. She could see Aly and Landon in the doorway between the kitchen and mudroom. Landon clearly dressed to head out to work the ranch, saying goodbye to his wife for the day.
Murmured words. A hushed kiss. And the strange sight of Landon’s hand rubbing over Aly’s stomach like…
Sam didn’t make a study out of how Aly and Landon were with each other. There was a kind of ease of affection married couples should probably have, and maybe Landon put his hand on Aly’s stomach like that all the time when it was just the two of them.
Sam somehow doubted it. She turned away, trying not to think about it. Finding it was impossible not to think about.
Aly was pregnant. Probably. Quick, but why wouldn’t Landon and Aly be quick about it? Nobody here was getting any younger.
And your fiancé, who you haven’t even discussed potential kids with, is in jail.
She raked a hand through her unruly hair. Why wasn’t she home alone where she belonged? She needed to figure out a way to get there.
We are all in this together.
But did that really mean she had to be in someone else’s house?
“Oh, morning, Sam,” Aly greeted cheerfully when she turned away from Landon’s retreating form. “I hope you got some sleep.”
Sam tried to smile. A couple hours, maybe, but that was a lot more than she’d been getting lately. And she couldn’t claim it was the release of crying it out, because she’d been doing that, like a little bitch, consistently.
The rest had been a direct result of Landon taking a bit of the weight off her shoulders and making sure she understood it was a weight on all of them. To share.
What the hell was Sam supposed to do with that?
She’d thanked him last night, so they were even. Or so she tried to tell herself.
“Sit. Eat.” Aly put a plate in front of her when Sam lowered herself into a chair at the little kitchen table.
Clearly Aly and Landon had already eaten, but Aly had kept the plate warm and now filled up a coffee mug for Sam.
“You aren’t going anywhere until you eat every bite,” Aly said firmly, putting a little container of sugar next to Sam’s mug. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself, and how can you expect to solve this if your mind is muddled with lack of sleep and no fuel?”
Well, I’m not going to solve it, because I never do.
Since she hated how damn self-pitying she sounded in her own head, she pivoted. “Should I say congratulations?”
Aly blinked, then turned away from her, moving to fuss with something on the stove. Purposefully hiding her expression. “For what?”
Sam supposed if Aly wanted to keep it quiet, that was her business. She wasn’t going to poke or pry, but … she’d hate to be the reason Aly was keeping it quiet. “You get to be happy about stuff even if life sucks.”
Aly looked down, presumably at her still flat stomach.
“Well.” She seemed to consider this, or maybe she just wasn’t going to say anything, but after a few moments, she turned to face Sam.
“I just wanted to wait until I had a doctor’s appointment before I made any official announcements to anyone.
Did you know they don’t do any sort of exam or anything until you’re eight weeks? ”
“I didn’t.” Sam knew nothing about pregnancy. Childbirth. Kids. And she sure as hell didn’t want to think about it now.
“Yes, well, they don’t. So … I was waiting for that. Not because of…”
“My boyfriend being in jail for murder?”
Aly’s blue eyes were sympathetic, but her tone was firm. “My brother-in-law, yes. And your fiancé.”
“Right. Yeah.” Sam looked down at the ring.
The symbol of the future that mocked her now, and yet she couldn’t work up the guts to take it off. Not after Nate got so mad at the suggestion.
“I tried to give him his ring back,” she heard herself say, and then wondered why that was something she needed to tell someone.
“Why on earth would you do that?” Aly demanded, hands on her hips.
Maybe that was why, because she needed Aly, her old best friend and new friend, to snap her out of whatever this was. She needed to accept what Landon had said last night.
They were all in this together, and maybe that meant leaning a little bit. Unburdening herself a little bit. “Because I was feeling a little bit cursed. And hey, maybe if he’d listened, he’d be sitting here now.”
“He wouldn’t, because that’s ridiculous, Sam.” Aly sounded firm and sure, like a mother or teacher scolding a child.
It almost made Sam smile. Yeah, that was definitely what she needed.
“I know this must bring up a lot of old, bad memories.”
“For all of us,” Sam said, before Aly could apologize or self-blame, like Landon had done last night.
Had he told his wife about that? Had he kept it to himself because it was damn embarrassing for the both of them?
“I guess so. But…” Aly trailed off, frowning before moving toward the doorway between the kitchen and the hallway that led to the living room and front door. “I thought I heard a car door slam.”
Sam stood to follow Aly, bringing her coffee with her, hoping Aly would be distracted enough by a visitor not to demand Sam finish that food.
Out the big picture window, they could see Cal at his SUV, and Jill getting out of her old truck.
“Cal and Jill together this morning. Hm.” Aly peered out the window. “Separate vehicles though.”
Something about the way she said that, like it was disappointing, had Sam staring at her. “Are you matchmaking Cal and Jill?” Sam didn’t know why it was such a surprise.
It was just the kind of thing Aly would do, but … Cal? He was kind of a mess.
Aren’t you all?
“Of course not,” Aly replied with a sniff, moving toward the front door.
“Liar,” Sam muttered, following her into the living room where Cal and Jill stepped inside.
The sight of Cal tightened any knots that had loosened immediately. He’d texted some rote updates about Nate, but nothing worthwhile. Nothing important.
“Did you see him? Talk to him? Do we know anything?” she demanded.
She knew too much to think he would have gotten a bond, but a girl could dream.
“Not on the Nate front directly. I’m going to go break down the prosecutor’s door today if I have to. I’ll try to corner Hayes, too, for a few reasons. But I thought we should talk about whatever Olivia told you yesterday first. You were excited about it.”
Right. Olivia. Had that just been yesterday?
Had she been excited? It was like a weird, fuzzy memory that felt light-years away instead of yesterday.
With Nate in jail, it now felt less like a thread than it even had yesterday.
“She told me that Jules went to the police in Marietta. And that someone there must have taken her somewhat seriously, because she came back in a good mood.”
Cal and Jill shared a surprised, arrested look.
“What?”
Cal shook his head. “No, it’s … nothing. I’m just surprised to hear she went to the Marietta police.”
“I want to find out who. If Jules was happy after, she was either lying to her friend, or someone took her seriously. Someone might have clues they’re sitting on.”
Cal and Jill shared another look that confused Sam.