Chapter 9
Why Do You Keep Doing That?
Clay
“I think Leni’s seeing someone,” Mercer says, first thing in the morning, before anyone's had coffee or even talked about the day’s assignments.
The hired hands who are there excuse themselves to go get some caffeine before having to deal with the crazy family drama.
The rest of us left standing around the breakfast table that’s set out behind the main house.
“What?” Adler asks, his voice muffled by half a muffin he shoved into his pie hole. He’s wearing a backwards baseball cap over his dark, wavy hair. A grey tank top on his torso, black combat boots gaping at the tongues where he’s neglected to tie them up.
“Why else wouldn’t she come back at all for the summer?”
Toby shakes his head, long hair dusting his shoulders beneath his cowboy hat. He should pull it back or cut it. I can’t imagine how hot it’d be to run around with so much hair. “I thought you said she wasn’t coming back because he’s here.” Toby hooks his thumb over his shoulder at me.
“Thanks,” I deadpan.
“Obviously.” Mercer rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee before continuing. “But what if that’s only half the story? What if she’s secretly hooking up with some guy and they’re running off to do naked time on a beach or something?”
I choke on air, slamming my fist into my chest, willing myself the ability to breathe again. What the fuck is wrong with this family, and why do I now have the image of naked Leni on the beach burned into my mind?
Ethan gives me a hearty pat on the back before muscling Adler away from the table where Ma put out some breakfast burritos and pastries.
“Why do you keep doing that?” Mercer puts a hand on his hip, his eyes narrowing at me.
“Swallowed wrong? Sue me.” I rub my chest, throat burning from the coughing fit.
“Maybe I will.” Mercer looks at Ethan, who rolls his eyes.
“You can’t sue someone for choking dipshit. So what if she’s seeing someone?”
“Well, did she tell any of you assholes about him?”
That gets all the boys standing a bit straighter.
Generally, if Leni likes a guy and knows he’ll fit in, she’ll tell at least one of the boys about it.
The news spreads through the grapevine, and the boys make plans to go ‘meet’ the new boyfriend.
On the other hand, in the past, when Leni started a relationship and didn’t tell anyone, it was usually because she knew he wouldn’t fit in.
Guys who ended up with their faces rearranged because no one ever treated her right.
I rub my jaw, imagining Brooks taking a potshot at my face. I watched that dude drop my dad with a single punch to the jaw. I have no intention of finding out what that feels like for myself.
“Shit,” Adler sighs. “There’s too much going on. I do not have time to drive to Benson and spy on Leni. Then cover for Brooks while trying to stake out Clay to figure out who he’s fucking. This is getting ridiculous.”
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” I feel my eyes bulge out as I stare at the youngest Kane brother.
He presses his lips into a straight line, eyes widening as he realized how badly he fucked up.
“Adler James, did you just say you’re spying on me?”
“What? No, I never said that.” Adler shoves the rest of his muffin into his mouth before turning back toward the table.
“He totally is.” Toby jumps up to sit on the tailgate of the side-by-side. “Said you slept on the couch for some reason last night.”
“Jesus H Christ.” I rub my hands down my face and make a mental note to tell Leni that her brothers are up to no good. “Jefferies!” I call the ranch hand I gave stall duty to. “Change of plans. You’re gonna work the sevens with Toby here. AJ is going to muck stalls.”
“Wha?” Adler turns and groans. “Come on, man! I’ve done my time in the barn. There’s like, eighty horses out there now!”
There’s fifty, and only twenty or so were in their stalls last night.
So, it’s an easier job than running the fence lines and fixing wires, but I don’t tell him that.
I twiddle my fingers at him in a fake wave and send him on his way.
Adler’s shoulders stiffen, a muscle in his jaw ticking when he bites back whatever insult he’s thinking.
Flipping me the bird, he grumbles past us, and I avoid the temptation to kick him in the ass as he walks by.
Mercer smirks at me, grabbing his to-go cup. “I’m so glad I’m the boss at our real jobs.”
I flip him the bird, and we head for the big barn to grab our horses.
My blue roan Mako is kept here in the stables.
Everyone used to keep their horses here, but now the boys mostly keep theirs at home.
All of them, except Adler, have their own little patch of dirt to call home.
I have my own plot across the highway. Someday, I’m going to build a little cabin there.
Maybe get a dog, keep Mako nearby so I can ride whenever I want.
Mercer saddles up Leni’s old horse, Calypso. He’s old and fat and has not been worked nearly enough. A big step down to the younger buckskin he favors. Fabio has a lot more pep than Calypso does, but for riding pastures and pushing a few cows, he’s still got it. I wonder if Leni misses him.
“How you been, Clay?” Mercer tips his hat a little lower on his brow, blocking what he can of the sun as it begins to peek over the horizon. Deep purples, blues, and fiery hues of orange and pink paint the sky.
“Okay,” I breathe, hoping I don’t crack like an egg and spill everything.
Twisting at the waist, Mercer’s saddle creaks while his weight adjusts.
He tips his head off to one side, one eyebrow disappearing beneath the brim of his cowboy hat.
From the moment we met, we were best friends.
He’s the reason I moved into the Kane household and was given the chance of a better life.
I owe him everything, and the best I can repay him with is some fucking trauma and lies.
“It’s gonna be like that then, huh?” He tucks his tongue between his back teeth, leg bouncing twice in the stirrups before he squeezes Calypso and rides off.
Fuck.
I lift my reins out to my left, leaning forward in the saddle to push Mako toward Mercer. He follows, chomping at the bit to do some running. He loves the roping pen and a good cattle drive. Even when he’s out in the field, he’s always working. We happen to have that in common.
“I’ve had a couple of panic attacks since being back.” I offer the most truth that I comfortably can, without betraying Leni’s confidence.
“Shit, how bad were they? Is that why you were late Thursday morning? Were you lying in that cabin unconscious? Because I swear to God, Clay—”
“No, I wasn’t unconscious in the cabin. I really did sleep through my alarms.”
“Damnit, you are seeing someone, aren’t you?”
“Also, no.” I narrow my eyes, flicking my wrist over the saddle horn. I give Mako his head, and he’s off like a fucking bullet. The wind is nearly ripping my hat away as we tear across the grassy pasture.
Mercer curses behind me, shouting obscenities at Calypso, who was perfectly content to walk wherever we were headed for the day.
I lean forward, moving my hands up Mako’s soft neck, giving him permission to move however he’d like.
As long as we’re headed to what Pa calls the sevens.
The Kanes rotate their herd through the ranch’s pastures, letting the land regenerate stronger between grazings.
The fields are laid out in a grid formation, so it’s easier to know where to move them to.
The sevens make up the grids numbered through the seventies, and some of my favorite spots on the ranch are here.
Our biggest challenge is that a large portion of this grid borders the highway.
In a perfect world, that wouldn’t be an issue, but it isn’t.
Our fences are constantly being torn down by drunk drivers or kids who shouldn’t be out so late.
We’ve even had a few run-ins with cow tipping.
They sure don’t like to get caught, not when Sheriff Mercer puts ‘em to work landscaping his yard as community service.
Mako is huffing by the time we reach the cattle guard between the grazing field and the open land.
Mercer and Calypso follow behind, slowly but surely.
I lean down to open the pass-through gate and stand waiting for Mercer.
Calypso steps into the pasture looking like he’s ready to croak.
White foamy sweat froths from beneath the saddle pad, his body heaving as if he can’t get enough air.
“Goddamn, he’s out of shape,” Mercer whines, reaching to pet Calypso’s neck, then thinks better of it.
“Nah, Mako’s just that fast.”
Mercer’s face contorts, like he might want to disagree with that statement, but he knows it’s true.
“So,” he huffs, putting his hands on his low back, stretching his torso backward.
As sheriff, he doesn’t have enough extra time to be in the saddle.
He and Ethan are gonna be hurting tomorrow.
“What’re we doing about the panic attacks then? ”
Sleeping next to your sister. My brain unhelpfully supplies. Daydreaming about her tits. My dick adds its own commentary. Fuck. I need her to woman up and tell her family she’s here. This is torture.
“Woo-woo breathing exercises,” I lie. Because that’s what I do now. I’m a pathetic liar. Might as well sit here and set my goddamn pants on fire.
“And those work?”
“Sometimes.” At least that’s a truthful answer.
“Huh...too bad you can’t call Leni up and have her sneak into your bed.”
My mouth drops wide open. Mako rips the reins straight from my hands and lunges forward to get a drink from the stream.
Mercer cackles, sliding out of his saddle as he leads Calypso closer to the water. Calypso’s a good horse, but he’s never been a fan of the water. Brooks tried to train it out of him, but Leni took a lunge whip to his ass when she didn’t like his trainings. Brooks never touched Calypso again.
“Did you think we didn’t know?” Mercer’s green eyes glint with mischief when he looks at me. “Why do you think I push so hard for you two? You haven’t slept well since that summer you spent sleeping in her bed, like she’s some kind of comfort item. Shouldn’t that tell you something?”
“Give it a rest, Merc. Your sister deserves to find her perfect someone.”
“She does, and she has,” he grunts, swinging himself back up into the saddle.
I cock my head, giving him a scowl. I look down at my reins tethering Mako to the ground.
Mercer winks, moving Calypso toward the fence line.
“Bastard!” I call after him. Jumping to the ground, I snatch my reins, then snap a picture of Mercer riding away from me on Calypso.
I think about sending it to Leni, but I bet she’s still sleeping.
Bet she doesn’t want to hear from me. She hasn’t even given me her number again.
The only reason I have it is because she’s in the family group chat.
There used to be a sibling chat too, but when it was clear Leni and I weren’t responding to any joint messages, the boys moved everything over to the bros chat. Ma refused to accept it, so on occasion, we text in the family group chat. All of us but Leni.
“I’m just saying,” Mercer picks up the conversation, like I wasn’t two minutes behind him. “I don’t get why you guys can’t be with each other.”
“She really never told you?” I’m still trying to reconcile the idea that she lied. That they aren’t as close as they used to be.
Mercer sits back in his seat, head whipping to glare at me. “Told me what?”
“About the night she came to see me.” Picking at the leather on the pommel, looking for anything that might keep me from having to look my best friend in the eye.
“What night?”
“Right after she turned eighteen.” My eyes meet his, waiting to see the light turn on as he puts the pieces together.
“That trip she took when she was mugged?”
I jerk my chin, acknowledging his answer.
“She said that she didn’t find you.”
“I’m just piecing that together.” Cows lowing in the distance draw my attention away from him.
“Why would she lie?”
I nudge Mako into a trot, a sinking feeling starting to settle into my gut.
“She was protecting you, wasn’t she?” Calypso, to his credit, keeps pace with us. Mercer moves him alongside me as we make our way toward the herd.
I give a tight nod, trying to fix my breathing before I lose it completely. I shouldn’t have said anything. Fuck. I’m so fucking stupid.
Mercer is quiet as he works the details out in his head. We get closer to the noise from the cows, but they’re not lowing anymore. Now, they’re screaming.
Something is wrong.
“She was in that hotel room you trashed. Wasn’t she?”
I turn to my best friend, eyes darting over a mask of indifference as his own drill through me. I give another jerk of my head, watching the muscles in his jaw tick.
He opens his mouth, ready to read me the riot act, no doubt, when a car horn blares. The sound of rubber skidding on pavement assaults our eardrums. We drop the trot, urging both horses into a full-blown gallop.