Chapter 32
32
Essie
F or once, I didn’t want to fight.
Are you okay? I had asked as we buckled in. Fine , was his perfunctory response. We didn’t say anything at all after that. I dropped him off at the Painted Cat to collect his truck, since he had gotten a ride down to the station in the back of a cop car, and met him at home.
“How’s your wrist?” he asked gruffly as we changed for bed, his gaze on the floor. He hadn’t met my eyes since Mike unlocked his cell door.
“Tender.” I shrugged. “I took an ibuprofen for the swelling. It will be fine.”
The look on Brax’s face suggested he didn’t believe there was anything fine about this at all.
There was so much to say. So many emotions tumbling in my stomach. So many questions swirling in my brain.
Such as, what the fuck, Brax, didn’t I tell you to leave it alone?
Or, what the fuck, Brax, why do you keep fighting my battles for me?
Most importantly, what the fuck, Brax, how could you call Adam instead of me?
And then some good, old-fashioned screaming.
But I didn’t want to say any of that. I didn’t want to fight.
I just wanted to hold him.
So that’s what I did, when we crawled into bed together and he rolled onto his side, facing away from me. I snuggled up against his broad back and wrapped my arm around his middle. He stiffened and for a terrible moment I thought he might actually push me away. But then his muscles relaxed on a heavy sigh, and he covered my hand with his.
We slept like that.
When Adam had called to inform me that my formerly uptight, rule-stickler husband had somehow landed himself in jail, I had told him not to expect me at Lodestar until noon. That would give Brax and me some time to talk things through before he had to work.
That was the plan, anyway.
But when I finally pried my eyelids open, his side of the bed was empty .
Brax was gone.
I bolted out of bed and ran to the window, but I already knew what I’d find. Sure enough, his truck was gone.
He had walked away…again.
That fucking coward.
With nothing better to do since Brax bailed on me, I showered and headed to Lodestar Ranch, with a quick detour at Sweetie Pie. Because while I wasn’t one of those people who believed pie could solve all the problems, I did believe my problems would still be there without pie, so I might as well suffer and have pie, too.
Anyway, I knew Mom would be working because Mom was always working, and right now, I really wanted my mother.
Mom looked up from a conversation with a customer as I walked in. After she finished helping her, Mom pulled a cherry pie from the glass case, removed a slice, and slid it onto a porcelain plate. Cherry pie was my favorite.
“To go, Mom,” I said, even though all I wanted was to cry in her arms. God, being an adult sucked. “I have to be at Lodestar.”
She sank her fists onto her hips and frowned at me. “ Esther Louise Price, you did not come in here the morning after you had to bail your husband out of jail just to take a slice of pie to go. Now, you go park your butt at that table over there, and I’ll be over with your coffee in a minute.”
“Mom!” I protested. I looked around, but no one seemed at all shocked to hear Braxton Hale, formerly an upright citizen, had spent some time behind bars last night.
“What? Everyone knows already. Three people told me before eight a.m. Now, sit.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I muttered. I took my pie and sheepishly slunk to the table in the corner.
I took a bite of pie, ignoring the curious looks of other customers. Occasionally, someone stared a little too long and I gave them my best go ahead, I dare you expression. They always looked away quickly after that.
“Here we are,” Mom said, placing two steaming mugs of coffee on the table and sitting down across from me. “Cream and a little sugar.”
Exactly how I liked it.
I took a careful sip, knowing Sweetie Pie tended to serve coffee piping hot, and let the warmth spread through me. I took another bite of pie, then had another sip.
“Now,” Mom said. “What happened?”
I told her everything I knew, which wasn’t a whole lot. Adam hadn’t shared any of the gory details. All I knew was that Brax and Alan had exchanged words, Brax had attacked Alan, and then Alan had called the cops. Alan, to my understanding, had been able to walk away on his own two legs without assistance, which meant Brax had been holding back. He wouldn’t have murder charges in his future. That was something, at least.
Mom’s gaze fell to my wrist and her eyes narrowed. “Alan Gaffney did that to you?”
I groaned. “Not you, too, Mom. It barely even hurts anymore.” I huffed an annoyed sigh and leaned back in my chair. “You…Brax… argh . I’m not saying Alan should get away with it. I just…I can handle it myself. I don’t need people babying me.”
“ Caring for you.” Mom took a slow sip of coffee. “That’s what we’re doing, honey. We’re caring for you. And I’ll tell you something, Essie. You might as well try to hold back the ocean as tell Braxton Hale not to care for you. That man would move mountains for you.”
“I never asked him to!” I exploded. Frustrated, I stabbed my pie with my fork.
“No, you never asked him to,” Mom agreed. “How do you think he feels about that?”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well.” Her head tilted as she considered. “Do you remember when you were twelve and decided to build yourself a barn out back? It was the only way we’d be able to afford keeping a horse, if we didn’t have to pay to board him somewhere, and there was enough space to set up some barrels for practice, too. You worked on that for two months and got nowhere. You wouldn’t let Brax help. You wouldn’t let Jack help. You kept saying you could do it yourself, until Brax finally said he didn’t know what else to get you for your thirteenth birthday, so you had to let him do it as a present. Do you remember that?”
“Of course I remember.” I almost smiled, remembering how hard Brax had pleaded. Then I shook my head. “I still could have done it myself.”
“Honey, no. You couldn’t have,” Mom said matter-of-factly. “No one can build a barn by themselves, especially not when they’re all of twelve years old. Not you. Not Brax. That’s why he got Jack, his brothers, and his dad to help, too.” She paused, then leaned forward. “ He asked for help to get it done. That’s my point.”
“Subtle, Mom. Real subtle.” I raised my eyebrows. “Are you saying I should have asked my husband to beat up a man for me? Because I don’t think that’s a lesson you want me to learn.”
“Essie, honestly.” Mom sounded stern, but I caught the smirk she tried to hide behind her coffee cup.
“I’m not weak, Mom,” I said. “I’m not fragile. And I am so tired of people treating me like I am. I made it to the top of a very competitive sport. I’m now successfully starting a new career from scratch. I mostly make good decisions, and when I don’t, I find a way forward, anyway. I don’t need anyone fighting my battles for me.”
Mom touched my hand. “Honey, no one thinks you’re weak. Especially not Brax. Has it ever occurred to you that he’s not trying to fight your battles for you, he’s trying to fight them with you? Why won’t you let him?”
I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out.
Why wouldn’t I let Brax help me?
She was right. I always told him no. I was determined to prove I could do it myself. I didn’t need anyone. Especially not him.
“You’re the one who told me not to depend on a man. And you were right. Dad never kept a promise.” I wiped furiously at my eyes. “And Brax…what if he does the same thing? He walked away before. He walked away this morning. What if I come to depend on him, and then he’s not there anymore?”
“Oh, honey,” Mom said softly. “Brax isn’t your father. He’s not going to let you down like that.”
“But what if he does? ” I insisted.
Mom made a face. A sympathetic, heartbroken, determined face. “You know exactly what you’d do about that, Essie, so don’t you sit there and pretend otherwise. Because you’re damn right. You’re not weak. You’re not fragile. So you’d cry about it and then you’d get right back on your feet and move forward.” Her eyes glimmered, with tears and a little mischief. “And you’d come tell your momma all about it, because she knows how to bury a body.”
I burst out laughing despite myself. “Mom!”
She shrugged. “I’m just saying. Jack has lots of knowledge to impart.”
I shoveled another bite of pie into my mouth. It didn’t change my problems. Brax and I had some things to work out, for sure.
But I knew what I wanted.
I just hoped Brax wanted it, too.