Chapter 29 #2
"Mitch, we made love last night. And now, you're treating me like I'm some stranger you picked up in a paddock."
Which, technically, I was. But it hadn't felt that way when he’d held me. Or when he’d whispered my name like I was someone he truly cared for.
He adjusted the straps attached to the stirrups, shortening them, his jaw set in that stubborn line that was impossible to crack. He pulled a canteen from Zeus’s saddle bag, marched to the billabong, and filled it with water. He returned with his jaw clamped and his gaze aimed at the ground.
He finally looked at me, and a flicker crossed his eyes. Guilt, maybe. Or regret. But then it was gone, shuttered behind that blank cowboy mask he wore so well.
That hurt worse than any response from him could.
"So, what's the plan?" I forced my tone to stay cool, detached. "We just pretend last night didn't happen?"
His face was closed off, guarded. Like last night didn't matter. Like I didn't matter.
"Mitch," I said, softer this time, trying to coax some response from him.
"Charlie. Don't."
"Don't what?" My voice rose. "Talk about what happened? Is that it? Are you going to pretend it was nothing? That it was just sex?"
"Look." He led Zeus toward me. "We don't have time for this. We need to get moving." He offered his hand to help me up. "Get on."
I stared at his hand like it was a snake. My lips twitched with the effort of holding back everything I wanted to scream at him. Instead, I grabbed the saddle horn and hauled myself up without his help.
He handed me the reins.
I frowned down at him. "What are you doing?"
"You're taking Zeus. I'll ride Razor."
"Oh. That's just great." I snatched the reins from him. "Can't wait to get rid of me, huh? You're an asshole."
His jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.
“Here.” I tugged his shirt off and threw it at him. Last thing I needed was to see all his bruises, to see what he’d suffered through to save me.
He snatched it mid-air and pulled it on. Then he moved to Razor and swung into the saddle with that easy grace that made me want to scream.
I turned Zeus away before he could see the tears stinging my eyes.
Bastard. Complete and total bastard.
We rode in silence as the sun burst over the horizon and climbed higher, turning the air into a furnace. Sweat trickled down my spine and soaked through my shirt.
I kept waiting for Mitch to say something.
Anything. An apology. An explanation. Hell, even another lie would be better than this suffocating quiet.
He rode ahead on Razor, his back straight and tense, fury rolling off him in waves that matched the Outback's brutal heat.
My ass ached from the saddle, my throat stripped raw.
I tried to work up enough spit to swallow, but my tongue had turned to dried leather, stuck fast to the roof of my mouth.
"Mitch." I barely recognized my own voice, it came out so rough. "I need to stop. I need a drink."
He halted Razor, and when he turned to look at me, a shift occurred in his expression. The hard edge softened. He looked almost guilty, like he'd forgotten I was human and not just another problem to deal with.
He dismounted and came to my side. I had no choice but to let him help me down off Zeus, though every part of me wanted to refuse. His hands were steady on my waist as I slid from the saddle, and for just a second, his fingers lingered and his mouth opened as if he wanted to say something.
But he didn't.
The moment my socked feet hit the ground, I winced against the tight skin on my heels and hobbled away, putting distance between us.
He retrieved the water canteen from Zeus's saddlebag and strode to me without meeting my eyes.
I drank a few mouthfuls, then passed it back to him.
He only took a small sip before putting the canteen away and fishing something else out of the saddlebag.
He handed me a dried biscuit. "Here."
I took it, expecting him to get one for himself. He didn't.
As I nibbled on the meager food, the silence stretched between us as brutal as barbed wire.
He was so damn good at being completely inaccessible.
Well screw him. We were trapped together, and he had nowhere to run.
I wasn't going to make this easy for him.
He needed to start talking. About what happened last night.
About his feelings. About this whole messed-up situation.
"You can't even look at me, can you?" I said quietly.
His shoulders heaved with a breath, and finally, he cleared his throat. "Look, Charlie. I have a lot of shit going on in my life."
I gasped and threw my hands out wide. "Oh my God!
You have shit going on? My boss tried to kill me, but because he's dead, nobody will believe me.
I'll lose the job I love. I won't have a home.
And on top of that, the most important paleontology find in Australian history was washed away because of me.
So don't talk to me about problems, Mitch. "
"You don't know me, Charlie."
I snapped back. "I know you're more worried about finding your father than protecting me."
"Bullshit." His voice turned savage. "I hope that asshole was ripped to shreds by dingoes and felt every goddammed fang on his skin. If he's not dead, I'll kill him myself."
I gasped. "Jesus, Mitch. You don't mean that."
"I damn well do." Every inch of his body vibrated with anger.
"Because he locked you in that shed overnight?"
"What? Hell no. That's nothing compared—" He cut himself off, his jaw clenching so hard the muscle jumped beneath his beard.
He was so torn up that my anger dissolved. Mitch was truly hurting. This wasn't about me at all. It had never been. "Compared to what, Mitch?" I took a step toward him, my voice softening. "Tell me. Please."
I needed to know. Not just about what Frank did, but about who Mitch really was beneath all that armor. I wanted to understand and help him overcome whatever burden was crushing him from the inside out.
He turned away, his hand going to the back of his neck. "You don't want to hear this."
"Yes, I do." I moved closer, resting my hand over his arm. "Mitch. Talk to me."
He just stood there, muscles rigid under my palm. It was a long moment before his shoulders sagged and he looked at me with eyes so raw it made my chest ache.
He turned his gaze to the horizon, his jaw clenched, then he dragged a hand down his face and let out a shaky breath.
"Her name was Hannah." Mitch said the name like he was spitting gravel. He took a few steps away from me as if he needed distance from me to say this.
I forced my feet to stay planted where they were.
"I met her when I was twenty-five. She was beautiful. Kind. Sweet. From a decent family in town."
He clenched his fists at his sides, and the muscles in his back rippled.
"She was the first woman who ever meant anything to me." He swallowed hard. "We dated for ten months, and she made me believe I could have a future beyond Koolaroo and cattle. Maybe even marriage. And kids." His voice cracked on that last word.
An impossible heaviness settled in my heart at the absolute sorrow in this poor man.
He turned away from me completely, and his shoulders tensed. "I thought..." He stopped and swallowed so hard I heard it. "I thought she was the woman I would spend the rest of my life with."
The silence stretched. I waited, my heart hammering as I braced myself for whatever came next, hoping like hell I'd know what to say.
"One day, I caught Frank handing her an envelope in the barn." He drove his fingers through his hair. "Hannah opened it right there and flicked through a pile of cash." He clenched and unclenched his fist.
I frowned, trying to work out the implications. "What was the money for?"
"Frank was paying her to be with me." His voice was pure steel.
I gasped. "What? Why?"
"Hannah bawled her eyes out, blubbering about how she loved me." Mitch let out a bitter laugh and kicked at the dirt. "But Frank just smirked. Smug fucking bastard."
A sadness gripped me so deep my lungs seemed to fight for air. "Why would he do that?"
His body went rigid. Then he turned back to face me, his eyes blazing with old pain and fresh rage.
"Frank said I'd been acting up, getting drunk and into bar fights, sleeping around. That I was a useless mess." His hands clenched into fists so tightly his knuckles went white. "So, he hired her to settle me down."
My stomach dropped, and I covered my mouth. "Oh my God."
"Hannah kept sobbing, saying she hadn't meant to fall in love with me, but she had. That her love was real." His voice cracked. "I thought she was the one. That she loved me. But it was all bullshit."
I could barely breathe. The cruelty of it made me sick. "What did you do?"
"I lost it." His jaw clenched so hard it shook. "I attacked Frank, and we fought hard, trying to kill each other. I broke two of his ribs."
"Good," I whispered. "He deserved it."
"I was this close to wrapping my hands around his neck and ending him." Mitch held his thumb and finger an inch apart. "This close."
I wanted to kill Frank myself. With my bare hands. "You were the better man, Mitch. You still are."
He looked at me, blinking, as if trying to process what I'd said. Like maybe no one had ever told him that before.
But the pieces were falling into place. Hannah's betrayal explained why he'd shut me out this morning. Why he couldn't trust what we'd shared last night. Why the walls around his heart were reinforced steel.
"Is that why you left for ten years?"
"Yeah." Mitch's eyes went distant. "I packed a duffel, jumped on my bike, and took off. I didn't even say goodbye to Cassidy or my brothers." He shook his head. "I was a bloody idiot. A fool. My first love was paid for, and Frank knew exactly how to pull my strings."
"So why do you care so much about finding him?"
He jerked back as though I'd slapped him. "I don't give a shit about that asshole."
"But you came back to look for him."