Chapter 22 Ford
Ford
Istand by the open door next to Harper as she cries in the back of my truck. Her knees are drawn up to her chest, arms curled around them, and her face buried deep. The quiet, broken sobs twist something sharp inside me.
I feel awful.
If I hadn’t been so caught up with what I could only describe as feelings for a woman I barely know, maybe I would’ve been here sooner.
Kit and Harper have had a fallout. A big one. Apparently, Kit told her, right in front of her friends, that he likes her as more than just a friend. And apparently, it didn’t go down very well.
She had been sitting outside school, tears running down her face waiting for me to answer the goddamn phone, waiting for me to show up, but I hadn’t.
Not right away. Because I was too busy with Stormy.
Too busy enjoying her company. Sharing one of my passions with her, something that's always been mine, private, and watching her light up as she fumbled through the chords.
I close my eyes, guilt eating me up.
When I finally arrived, Harper poured it all out between her sobs; how she hates Kit now, hates how he’s gone and ruined everything, hates that she loved his friendship, but now it feels like it's been ripped away.
She told me she ran, bolted the moment Kit confessed, because she didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do, and now all she can feel is regret.
She thinks it’s ruined. That there’s no going back.
And this, this is exactly what happens when people catch feelings—somebody always gets hurt.
Still … part of me can’t help but feel something else.
Because … I know Harper’s my sister, and I’ll always have her back, but damn. It must’ve taken guts for Kit to do what he did. To risk that kind of fallout, knowing it might cost him everything. It was brave of him.
Maybe that’s what’s hardest about all this, no one did anything wrong. They just … felt too much.
I reach for Harper, squeezing her shoulder lightly, grounding her with my touch.
"I should’ve been here sooner," I murmur.
She just shakes her head, sniffing, but I know better. I know I failed her today.
And it’s not just guilt eating me up. It’s her. Stormy. That message on her phone.
Stormy, I love you…
From somebody named Sam.
I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. Wasn’t aware she loved someone.
And now, standing here with Harper sobbing in my truck, with regret weighing down the air between us, I feel stupid.
Stupid for wanting to kiss her, and stupid for the way I’ve been looking at her …
the way my mind has been drifting toward her in every quiet moment since she arrived.
Stupid for letting these ridiculous feelings pull me under, so much so that I slacked on the only thing that should matter. Harper needed me, and I wasn’t there.
And now, I know. I know that Stormy has somebody. I know spending time with her is bad and wrong, because she’s becoming a distraction—a dangerous one.
And I know, with sudden, unwavering certainty, that I need to stay away.
After dropping Harper at home and spending a few hours watching movies and inhaling Ben & Jerry’s—because the ranch could wait—I find myself heading toward the fields. I need a ride with Raven.
As I near the pasture, Jensen’s truck catches my eye, parked alongside the fence.
He must’ve come to check on things with Star.
And then I find him, but he’s not alone.
Jensen stands beside Raven with someone next to him.
The golden hair is instantly recognisable, catching in the sunlight as Stormy tucks a loose strand behind her ear. Of course she’s here.
I don’t take a moment to think. I stride toward them, boots kicking up dust. She turns, spotting me, and like always, she smiles. Soft. Warm. Too damn friendly.
"Hey, Ford … Is everything okay?"
I sigh, long and deep, before I even stop walking. The weight of this afternoon pressing down on me.
"Stormy."
She tilts her head, clearly waiting for more. But I don’t give her anymore.
Instead, I scrub a hand down my face, exhaustion threading through my bones.
"Look," I say finally, voice steady, ignoring Jensen as he stands there. "I don’t need any new friends."
Her brow furrows.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me," I say, shaking my head, gaze fixed somewhere past her shoulder. "I’ve got enough on my plate without you hanging around all the time."
I see the hurt and frustration in the way her shoulders tense and the way her fingers curl against the hem of her dress.
"Hanging around?" she repeats, voice edged, but quieter now. "I … I don’t know what you mean."
I exhale.
"Yeah, well, I don’t have time for this, for you."
Fuck, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.
She recoils slightly, as if the words land like a physical blow. Beside me, Jensen sucks in a breath.
"You don’t have time for me?"
"Ford," Jensen says, resting a hand on my shoulder, but I shrug it away.
I set my jaw, staring hard at the ground. I know I’m being a dick, but it needs to be said.
"I just think it’d be best if you stayed away. Kept your distance."
She lets out a short breath, not quite a laugh. There’s no humour in it, but no heat either. I look up and her eyes glisten, and I hate that I’ve put that look there.
"Right." Her voice is soft but clipped.
I shift my stance.
"I think it’s better this way."
For a moment, she doesn’t move. Just looks at me, really looks at me, like she’s trying to see past the walls I’m throwing up between us. Then she nods, in that slow but controlled way of hers. “Okay,” she says again, quieter this time. “If that’s what you want.”
Her words hit, slicing in places I don’t want to admit. She steps past me, and I don’t turn to watch her leave, because if I do, I might regret it.
"What the hell was that?" Jensen asks, voice sharp with disbelief.
“Don’t,” I tell him. “I don’t need a lecture.”
He shakes his head, frustration clear in every tense line of his body.
“She didn’t deserve that.”
I don’t answer. Just stare at the ground, jaw tight, fists clenched at my sides.
I know she didn’t deserve it. I know it came out too harsh.
But knowing doesn’t change the fact I said it.
Doesn’t soften the way it landed. And now it’s sitting in my gut like a lead weight.
I thought it’d make me feel better. Instead, I feel worse. Way worse.
Jensen steps closer.
“You think pushing everyone away is gonna fix whatever mess is in your head?”
“I think it’s none of your business,” I reply, voice flat, detached. “And I think you should go too.”
“Come on, man. I’m not leaving you here to stew in whatever this is.”
A faint laugh slips out, more tired than amused.
“You love her so much? Then why don’t you go after her.”
Jensen’s shoulders drop, a quiet ache settling into his expression. He takes a long breath, and then another. And finally, he takes a defeated step back, knowing I’m not one to back down. His eyes flit towards the path where Stormy disappeared, then back to me.
“You don’t have to do this, Ford.” His voice is calmer now. “You don’t have to be alone.”
I don’t answer. Just hold his stare, silent, waiting.
And eventually, with reluctance, he turns and walks away.
I hear his truck door swinging open, the rumble of the engine.
Then stepping closer to Raven, I rest my forehead against her nose, letting the warmth of her breath steady me.
She’s the only girl I need.