Chapter 002 y
The giggle inside my head is almost too good to keep down. I’d love nothing more than to reach across the table and punch the look of distaste right off that bitch’s face, but I’ll wait. Patience is a virtue, or so they say, and I’d hate for it to go down in the history books that I lost my shit over a mild comment. I need something spicier than that to justify a scene.
The look on Nash’s face? Priceless. A mixture of shock and that specific male panic that happens when biology gets real. But the best one, of course, is on poor Levi’s face. God love him. He looks like he’s been poleaxed. He’s sweet, innocent really, and I almost hate to do this to him, but I can’t resist. Being devilish is in my blood, especially given the circumstances. And the circumstances are rich. I’ll let them sweat a little longer.
"You're pregnant," Braylynn confirms. It’s not a question. It’s a flat statement, heavy with judgment. I can see the contempt swimming in her eyes, clear as day.
"You got something in your ears?" I volley back, not bothering to hide the snark. "I think I spoke English."
Levi looks like he’s going to puke right into the bread basket. Nash has developed a lovely snarl, his upper lip curling just slightly. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy. It’s electric, really, watching them squirm.
"Hey, watch the attitude, okay?" Nash states, his voice dropping an octave. Big brother mode activated.
"What attitude?" I scoff, leaning back in my chair. "She’s the one making me repeat myself when I spoke loud and clear. I don’t like repeating myself."
Braylynn exhales a sharp breath and starts fanning herself with the laminated menu, like the vapors are coming on. "Fine. But you and Levi haven't been dating long enough for this, am I right?"
I look at Levi. He scrapes a hand down his face, dragging the skin. "A couple of months."
"Let's not forget about the first time we met," I tell him, dropping my voice into a lower, suggestive register so there’s no guesswork for the table. "Sparks flew."
I love the disgusted wince that ripples across Braylynn’s face. Why I hate her so much already is a mystery, but she rubs me the wrong way. Like sandpaper on a sunburn. They all do, really, except for Levi. He’s so cute I could squeeze him until he pops.
Nash raises a hand, cutting through the air. "Okay, we've heard enough." He turns his glare on Levi. "Judging by the look on my brother's face, you picked a fine time to tell him. You might have let him in on the news before springing it on us the first time we meet."
I suck my teeth, a loud, wet sound that makes Braylynn flinch. "Your daddy's in jail and you're judging me?"
The table goes dead silent.
Levi interjects, his voice tight. "Look, that's enough. While he's right, that you should have told me before tonight, we're in a public place here. Let's keep it down."
"But I only found out today, Levi." I widen my eyes, playing the innocent flower.
"And you couldn't let that shit settle for a day or two?" Nash argues, leaning in. "Do you think it's fair to my brother or to me, that you're airing out your dirty laundry here?"
"What am I supposed to say?" I point a manicured finger at Braylynn, who is wearing a self-righteous, smug grin that I want to slap off. "She asked me outright why I wasn't having a drink like everyone else. I'm not a liar, Nash. I don’t lie." I sit back, pleased with myself. Point for me. "It's not my fault she's nosy."
"I'm not nosy," Braylynn snaps.
"Well then what are you?" I taunt. "Did you have to ask me that? What's it of your business, anyway? You're nosy. Admit it."
"At least I'm not rude," she tosses back.
Just then, the waitress arrives, balancing a tray of drinks. The timing is comedic gold. We sit there in silence, sipping. I’m sipping my water fast, imagining I’m throwing the glass at the bitch’s head.
"Are you ready to order?" the waitress asks, completely oblivious to the fact that she’s standing in a minefield.
"I am." My voice is loud, self-serving. I want them to watch me. "I'm damn near starved. I'll take the steak—medium rare—and a garden salad with a baked potato. Loaded." I pat my stomach gently. "And I'll take a chocolate mousse for dessert. Eating for two now, see."
"Congratulations," the waitress says, pasting on a smile and giving me a little curtsy as she takes my menu.
I listen to the rest of them grumbling out their orders. The wind has been thoroughly taken out of their sails. Levi orders some pasta dish he won’t eat, while Nash grunts out an order for ribs. Braylynn, the sap, orders a shrimp salad.
When the food comes, I eat like it’s my last meal on earth. I cut into the steak, savoring the red juice, while everyone else picks at their plates like they’re inspecting for poison. They ask for to-go boxes almost immediately. It’s obvious that I’ve successfully ruined the evening. Nash and Levi speak amongst themselves in low murmurs, but the conversation doesn't go beyond logistics.
Nash dives at the opportunity to get the bill. He throws his card down like he’s paying a ransom. I’d love to be a fly on the wall at the Barnes home tonight.
Nash's phone pings as he's signing the receipt. "Billy could use a hand with Digger tonight," he says to Levi, not looking at me.
"I'll come along. We came in Shelly's truck, anyhow," Levi responds. He looks tired. Defeated.
"Well, it was a pleasure meeting y'all," I say facetiously, scraping my chair back. "I'll be seeing you."
I lean in and kiss Levi on the cheek. He stiffens, but he doesn’t pull away. I don’t bother offering to pay my share. Screw them. Screw them all. They had it coming. What right did that bitch have to ask me why I was ordering a dang smoothie, anyway? Besides, I didn't want to meet any of these fools. Levi already gave me the heads up that I'd be put through the third degree. He's too sweet, see. And he saw my wedding band and engagement ring in my bathroom and panicked.
For all intents and purposes, that's none of his business, either. But I don't want to go and get his panties into a twist over it. I think I did well, avoiding the hard questions.
But they’re not done yet. I can feel it.
# Levi
I lift my hand defensively the moment the door slams on Nash’s truck. The cab feels too small, the air too thick with accusation.
"I don’t need it," I say, cutting Nash off before he can start. "You know as well as I do that I didn’t know she was pregnant."
Braylynn rounds on me from the front seat, twisting her body so she can glare at me in the back. "You better get a goddamn paternity test done, Levi. If that chick is still married, chances are that kid’s not even yours."
"Yeah, and thanks for that, by the way. Y’all just had to ask her about the damn smoothie."
"Alright, fine. I admit it." She throws her hands up. "I didn’t like her from the second I heard from Piper about the wedding bands. That woman is a snake. I can feel it in my bones. She’s cold, Levi."
"I’d be lying if I said I was a fan myself," Nash comments, eyes on the road. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel.
"Fans or no fans, if she’s carrying my baby, I’ve got a responsibility to her."
"Well, I don’t buy it for one second," Braylynn snaps. "She’s no more pregnant than I am. That snake just said it to ruffle my feathers."
I shake my head, staring out the window at the passing fence posts, but I say nothing. It’s easier to let them vent.
Suddenly, Braylynn’s face changes. It’s like a lightbulb went off behind her eyes. "Wait a minute. Did you tell her that I was going to be asking questions about her wedding bands?"
I hesitate. I don’t like where this is going. "I might have given her a heads up. Just so she wouldn't be blindsided. But I don’t see how that’s relevant."
She rolls her eyes so hard I’m surprised she doesn’t see her own brain. She scoffs, a sharp, ugly sound. "It makes perfect sense, Levi. That’s why she made such a fuss about me asking her about the smoothie. She knew damn well that I’d be raising questions. She’s no fool. Like I said, that girl is a snake. She baited me."
Nash interjects, his voice grave. "Let me ask you this, little brother. Have you been using protection? Is there a legitimate chance that she may be pregnant with your child?"
"I’ve been careful. Mama taught me well, just like she taught you."
He reaches back and pats my knee, a gesture that feels patronizing. "You’re still getting a paternity test though. I wouldn’t believe that woman as far as I could throw her. What class is she taking in school, anyway? She learning how to cook using a cauldron?"
"I’ve never asked her. We have no classes together."
"What the hell do you talk about, anyway?" Braylynn asks, looking at me like I just told her I was planning to live on the moon.
"If my brother knocked this chick up, chances are they aren’t talking about much," Nash points out.
I sink lower in the seat.
When we pull up to the ranch, Piper is sitting on the porch swing. She sees me in the back of the cab and rises immediately. Concern is registered all over her face, etched into the lines around her eyes. As I step out of the truck, I watch her scan Nash and Braylynn's expressions like she’s reading a weather report.
"What happened?" she asks.
They both have the grace to look at me for approval before speaking. I nod, giving them a tired look. Go ahead. Spill it.
"That woman is a snake," Braylynn comments, using her favorite word of the night.
"She blurted it out, plain as day, that she’s pregnant," Nash adds, ripping the band-aid off.
Piper's mouth drops open. "You’re not serious."
"As serious as the nose on my face," Nash confirms. "But he’s getting a paternity test before she squeezes a dime out of him." He jerks a thumb toward me.
Billy walks out from behind the barn, wiping grease from his hands on a rag. He’s got ears like a hawk. "Is she married?"
I feel the irritation spike in my chest, hot and sudden. "Was this all a plan just to interrupt our evening so you could gossip?"
"No, I took care of things here, but Piper said that y’all were on your way back anyway, so I figured best not to bother you." He gives me an evaluating glance, his eyes steady. "What are you doing back so early, anyway? Did you find out if she was married or not?"
My eyes roll back in my head. "For chrissake. No! We didn't get to that! She got all flustered and the night went all to hell as soon as Braylynn opened up her big mouth!"
Billy's face remains blank. I don't normally speak to him that way, but I'm not actually speaking directly to him. It's more like I'm addressing the universe. I'm so frustrated I could punch a hole in the siding. I'm not an angry person. Never have been. But after tonight, there are too many voices in my head. I need silence.
I scrape a hand over my face and sigh. "Billy, you mind if I take Digger out? I need some air."
"Sure thing, man. He's not saddled."
"I'll do it," Nash offers quickly. "You go take a walk for five minutes. Cool off."
I don't argue. I'm past arguing. The girls watch me as I walk away, likely wanting to shower me with questions and support, but I'm not up for it. I need to clear the static.
Nash brings me Digger right on time. I hop on bareback, grabbing a handful of mane. It takes five more minutes of just sitting there, feeling the horse breathe beneath me, before I feel like I can exist without screaming. The air is crisp and cool as the sun finally gives up the ghost, and the brush snaps happily underfoot as I nudge Digger toward the woods.
We trot through the trees, the rhythm soothing my nerves. I decide I want to venture out further, so I guide Digger outside the wooded area and into the open pasture. I urge him into a gallop. It feels liberating, my ankles slapping against his warm sides, my thighs clinging to his body. It's sort of magical how riding can make you forget that your life is currently a dumpster fire.
His hooves pat on the earth, a dull thudding sound that echoes in my chest. We gallop across Billy's land until we get toward one of the parcels bordered by a low fence.
That’s when I see it. Rather, I see her.
There’s a girl laying in the pasture.
There are trees overhead, casting long shadows, but I can see from a distance that she's got a fancy camera in her hand.
"Hey!" I shout, pulling back on the imaginary reins. "This is private property!"
Nothing. She doesn't flinch.
"Hey! I said this is private property! You're trespassing!"
She doesn't move, except for small finger gestures as she adjusts her camera. I pull Digger to a slow walk. "Ma'am! You're trespassing!"
Still nothing. It's like she's deaf. Or maybe she's an illusion. Or maybe she's just ignoring me and she's about to open up a can of whoop-ass on me, like what I picture Shelly doing if someone were to sneak up on her.
My boots hit the grass. I leave Digger standing there and walk toward her. The woman is blonde. Her hair is long, pooled all around her face and head like a halo in the soft grass. She's photographing on her back, aiming up at the canopy. It looks like a telephoto shot from the vantage point of the dirt to the tips of the trees.
"Ma'am?" I call out softly, intrigued despite myself. The camera has a small screen on the side of the lens, and I can see the shot she's taking.
There is a soft tote bag next to her bearing some photography studio’s name, but a long tripod hanging halfway out of it blocks the first name from my view. "Ma’am?" I try once more, stepping closer.
She still doesn’t acknowledge me. But I’ve momentarily forgotten that I’m supposed to be kicking her out, because I’m watching the screen. She pans in and out, adding effects, making the shot look like something out of a horror movie—dark, twisted branches against a dying sky. Then, with a few quick swipes, she changes the effect and it looks like the most beautiful goddamn picture I’ve ever seen. Light filtering through leaves like gold dust.
Her finger movements are fast, fluid. It’s like she’s playing an instrument. I’m lost watching her. She transforms the photograph from just a couple of trees to something unimaginable. Now, I’m no expert. My phone is filled with pictures of horses and nuts and bolts and pieces of the resort house. Practical stuff. But this... this is art.
She turns over onto her stomach and glances up.
Her eyes widen. She lets out what I’m guessing is a scream, though it catches in her throat. I’ve startled the pants off her.
Before I can say a word, she scrambles up. Never in my life have I seen a woman move so fast. She’s like a deer spooked by a gunshot.
"Ma'am! I didn’t mean to scare you! It’s just that this is Billy’s ranch! You’re not supposed to be here!"
I run after her, my boots heavy in the grass, but she’s faster. Much faster. Like she ran track in college or something. She bolts toward the brush line, her long hair streaming behind her like a flag of surrender.
I’m winded within seconds. My chest heaves as I stop to catch my breath, hands on my knees. The woman’s footsteps are so soft I can barely hear them fading away. Even if I knew where she was headed, I’m too out of shape to follow her any further.
I walk back to Digger, climb on, and try to retrace her path, but it’s getting too dark. I give up and find myself guiding the horse back to the spot where she was laying.
I slide off and lie down in the grass, exactly where she was.
It’s perfect.
It’s like she made that spot what it is. The view between the trees frames the sky like a cathedral window. The twilight peeks through the clouds in such a way that it looks like the Lord himself is looking down on me. I figure she must have scouted this spot out. You wouldn’t think to look at it that way unless you were looking for beauty.
I stay there for a while. I’ve found myself another place to go to clear my thoughts. I know this because I’m not laying here thinking about Shelly or the baby or the paternity test. I’m thinking about the girl.
I pull out my phone and start looking up photography studios in town, trying to figure out where she might work. The search is a bust, of course. She’s probably from out of town. Any local would know this is Billy‘s land. Unless you’ve got his permission, you don’t cross that fence line.
Funny thing is, the girl's face seems to be glued inside my head. The long, sheer blonde hair. The big blue eyes that stared back at me, so frightened. Milky white skin. Full pink lips. She was like an angel dropped into a cow pasture.
The more I think about it, the more I wonder if maybe she did know she was trespassing. Why else run like that? Unless she worried I would hurt her. But who could hurt such a creature?
I rise, dusting the grass off my jeans, and take Digger back to the stable. Billy comes out of the house and rests his thumbs in his belt loops, a stance I always take as contemplative.
"Do you mind if I borrow your truck?" I ask him.
"Not at all." He tosses me the keys from his pocket. He doesn’t ask what I need it for or where I’m going. There is a mutual trust between us that I appreciate more than I can say. He also doesn’t press me further on the Shelly disaster. I’d forgotten how respectful the man can be.
Hands on the steering wheel, I begin a trek through our small town. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but the motion soothes me. The carpets roll up in this town by six o’clock in the evening, except for on the waterfront.
There’s an ice cream truck parked close to the marina, glowing like a beacon in the dusk. I park and find myself walking over to order a cone, even though I’m still full from the dinner I barely touched.
Most of the boats are moored for the night, bobbing gently in the water. A handful of sailors are sitting on the pier, legs dangling over the edge. I’m halfway through my vanilla cone when I swear I can hear somebody calling my name.
"Levi Paxton."
I squint into the gloom. Buddy Wilson is waving at me from a bench.
"I don’t believe I’ve seen you here since you were just a boy and your dad used to bring you here with your brother," Buddy says as I approach.
"That sounds about right." I stick out my free hand to shake his. "You still got your old boat here?"
"No, I bought myself a new one a couple of years ago. Sort of an early retirement present to myself." He gestures vaguely toward the slips.
"The store is closed down? I hadn’t heard."
He waves a hand dismissively. "It’s not closed. I’m running an antique shop next to it, but I’ve got a new girl running the studio for me. My eyes aren’t what they used to be."
"Who is running the studio for you? I haven’t heard about anybody new coming around."
"That’s because you’ve been holed up at Billy's ranch. Sorry to hear about your dad, by the way."
It’s my turn to wave it off. "Don’t mention it. It was a long time coming."
"All the same. It can’t be easy on you or your brother. But your dad... he never took up what he loved, like I did. That’s what you’ve got to do in life, Levi. The old saying—find something that you love to do and you’ll never work a day in your life—it’s true. Anything you do outside of that stands to make you miserable. Then you find yourself drinking away your sorrows. It’s as simple as that."
"There’s more to it than that, I’m afraid."
"I know it. You should come around tomorrow and go for a sail with me. I don’t get company very often. It sure would be nice to catch up with you, Levi. Word is that your brother is getting married?"
Talk about news traveling fast. Small towns have a grapevine that moves faster than fiber optics. "That’s right. No date's been set or anything, mind, but she’s got a ring on her finger."
"She a nice girl?"
"She doesn’t put up with Nash‘s shit, I can tell you that," I say with a chuckle.
"That's sometimes all a man needs, son. You come on by the marina here tomorrow and go for a ride with me, or come see the antique shop. Find yourself a nice wedding gift for your brother."
"I’ll do that."
As I shake old Buddy's hand goodbye, the ice cream melting onto my knuckles, I realize that the reprieve is over. I still have to go back to Billy‘s ranch and face the music.