Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Brodie sloped home. He felt worse than he imagined.
He’d convinced himself that they’d coped admirably without him all these years and that, in a way, Zoey was probably better off without him.
He simply couldn’t give her what she needed.
But the way Maeve had looked at him, like he had let her down in more ways than he could fathom, it had cut straight through him, made him ache to be a better person.
He didn’t know what was worse, disappointing Zoey or disappointing Maeve.
It wasn’t meant to be like that. It wasn’t meant to feel this bad.
He stood by the window in his condo, staring blankly out through the dusky rain to the giant polo fields.
I knew you’d do this.
Was he that predictable? Even he hadn’t realized he was going to do it up to that point.
But she had seen straight through him from the start.
The rain drizzled in rivulets down the window.
He watched one droplet meet another and another.
He turned and got his phone out of his pocket, messaged Caleb. I’m back in. See you tomorrow.
He got back a bicep emoji.
It felt oddly childish.
He threw his phone on the bed.
He’d made the right decision. He did not want a life where he was moping at rainy windows with an ache in his chest. He looked around the bare bedroom, no pictures on the walls, no possessions. He didn’t need a home. He was a free spirit. A minimalist.
He sat down on the bed, elbows on his knees, chin resting on steepled hands.
He hadn’t always been a minimalist. As a child his side of the bedroom was packed full of toys, basketballs, polo stuff, books, pens, and paper.
Noah’s side was all lassos and rodeo trophies and once an orphaned foal, Bumblebee, who, when his mom wasn’t looking, Noah smuggled upstairs to sleep on his bed.
Brodie smiled into the darkness, lips resting against his fingers.
It was the best bedroom ever. They’d lie on their respective beds and chuck a ball to one another, forfeits for whoever dropped it.
He remembered doing the same on the tour bus when they were in Silver Sky.
Or out shooting hoops with Ethan at the court near the studio.
Brodie had a restless energy that meant he couldn’t sit still for long, couldn’t put in the unbroken hours recording.
He got bored, distracted. When he was with his brothers, it was fine because they’d all come out to the court in the end, or bribe him with the promise of a game if he stuck out another recording.
Then it ended, Silver Sky disbanded and suddenly Brodie was on his own.
Suddenly, there was no one to chuck a ball around with, no one to tell him it was probably time to call it a night, no one to tell him that the songs he was writing were tipping into cliché.
He sighed, looking back out at the unceasing rain.
He didn’t like the feeling inside himself as much as he didn’t like the weather.
When it rained, Brodie headed somewhere hot—he didn’t have the clothes for rain—and when he felt even remotely sullen he did something to cheer himself up.
That, he reminded himself, was exactly why he was going to San Diego.
He got up to grab his case from the top of the wardrobe, flung it open on the bed and started to toss his clothes in.
As he packed, he wondered if Maeve ever threw a ball with Zoey.
He was pretty certain Carole the babysitter never did.
Had anyone taught her how to shoot hoops?
Had anyone taken Maeve out for dinner? Where had that come from?
Of course people—men—took her out for dinner.
Probably handsome, intelligent neurosurgeons who wowed her with tales of operating-theater heroism. His stomach tightened—with what? Envy?
Get over it, Brodie.
He glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he collected his toiletries and shook his head. He didn’t want to think about it. His muscles were already itching to move on, his brain planning the best route to San Diego. He’d make up for it when he was back.
* * *
Brodie intended to slip away the next morning, but as he drove past the Silver Sky Ranch gates, guilt made him flick the indicator and turn in, knew his mom would be upset if he didn’t say goodbye.
It was still pouring, the weather, the songwriter in him concluded, was matching his mood. There were no rainbows today.
When he pulled up in the drive he saw Logan’s car already there, which, while it would be nice to see his brother, meant he’d be there longer than he intended and really, he just wanted to get going.
Sprinting to the door, he was soaked by the time he pushed it open. His mom and Logan were sitting at the kitchen table. Martha made a face when she saw him all wet and said, “Brodie, why don’t you have a jacket?” as if he was still Zoey’s age.
“Because I’m never anywhere when it rains.
” He slicked his hair back and pulled his wet T-shirt from his chest. Then he looked at Logan who was watching with wry amusement because Martha had got up and, grabbing a towel from the downstairs bathroom, was now trying to pat Brodie dry as he tried to push her away.
“I’m fine,” he protested, pulling out a chair and taking a seat opposite his brother. “How was Napa?”
“Excellent,” Logan replied without hesitation. “It’s a nice place you’ve got there. And great wine.”
His mom said, “Do you think I could stock it in the shop, Brodie?”
Brodie shrugged like he hadn’t considered it before. “Of course,” he replied, feeling a tinge of pride at Logan’s words of praise.
Stupidly, he glanced around to see if his dad was anywhere in the vicinity to hear as Logan started rhapsodizing about the vineyard to Martha.
“I haven’t actually got that much to do with it,” Brodie admitted.
“They said you were very enthusiastic.”
Brodie barked a laugh. “That does not sound like a compliment.”
Suddenly the door bashed open and Noah stalked in, dripping wet, long black slicker done up to his chin, a puddle already on the floor around his boots. “We’re gonna need some help out there,” he said by way of greeting.
“Why, what’s happened?” His mom and Logan were up in an instant. Brodie felt his heart sink, this was the last thing he needed.
“The river’s burst its banks.” Noah was rummaging through drawers looking for things as he was talking. “The cattle are up there and the water’s rising too fast.”
Martha was already pulling on her boots and Logan had his jacket and hat on as Noah added, “We need to get them moved. Now.”
Brodie closed his eyes. If only he’d left as soon as he’d finished packing last night.
Saving cows from the river was his least favorite job.
It had only happened once before in his life, and it had lodged its place right up there at the top of the list as an experience he never wanted to repeat.
Trying to drag cattle back to safety was a nightmare.
But if his mom and Logan were going, Brodie knew he had to go, too.
Noah was already back out the door.
“Brodie there’s a spare slicker—”
“I know—” he cut his mom off “—on the peg by the door.”
He got up and reluctantly yanked on a dark green waterproof, zipping it up and pulling up the hood. He hadn’t worn one of these for a while. He swapped his trainers for a pair of Noah’s old boots and followed after the others into the torrential rain.
Out in the yard, it was all shouting and commotion. His dad was heading out, rope slung over his shoulder. Rocky the dog was barking, desperate to get moving. Noah pointed Brodie in the direction of the lovely palomino mare he’d seen when he was there the other day and said, “You take Dove.”
Brodie saddled her up and jumped on. He couldn’t deny the rush of adrenaline now that he was racing out over the pasture.
This was the fun bit. Logan was slightly ahead.
Brodie knew he could sense the distance between them.
It wasn’t the time to be messing about racing but it was innate in them all.
He felt his skin prickle with every foot they gained, aware that Logan would be battling to stay ahead.
Then they got to the north pasture and the ground beneath them started to disappear into water.
The grass was nothing now but a flood plain.
Cattle wading, waist deep, others huddled on high ground.
His dad was wading out trying to corral them away from the deeper water.
One little one was trying to swim but got sucked under and away.
It was impossible to tell where the edge of the river was but the current in the center was hurtling along, frothing and tumbling, debris from the mountain swept along with it.
On the back of his horse, Noah lassoed the frantically flailing calf with brisk efficiency, bracing as the rope went taut against the onslaught of the river.
Brodie had memories of this as a kid. His dad snatching the lasso off him to do it himself when he fumbled a throw. This is why you practice! Even in emergencies there was a lesson to be learned.
“Brodie, is that your phone?” Logan shouted over the noise of the rain as he followed Martha further up the river.
Brodie hadn’t heard it but could now feel it vibrating in his pocket. He fumbled with the slicker to reach his back pocket. It was raining too hard to see the screen properly, but he thought it said Maeve. “Hello?”
“Is Zoey with you?”
“No.” He frowned. “Why would she be with me? Where is she?” He felt a chill run through his blood as he looked around through the cascading rain.
“I can’t find her. She’s not here.” The panic in Maeve’s voice was palpable.
“Where is she?” Brodie found himself half shouting, cupping the handset so he could hear better.