Safe Keeping (Triple Creek Ranch #2)

Prologue Gideon

Prologue

Gideon

Fifteen Years Old

“Gideon, I need to see you in my office.” Reggie’s standing just outside the bedroom I share with three other guys. He doesn’t look mad, but I’m always in trouble, so he’s probably just used to it by now, and it isn’t showing in his expression.

At least Reggie doesn’t knock us around.

“What did you do now?” Seth, a kid that’s on my last nerve, says with a smirk that I’d like to wipe off his face.

What a moron.

I ignore him and follow Reggie down the hall, past the dining and living rooms to his office, and when he closes the door behind us, unease settles in my gut.

I freaking hate it here at this boys’ home. We all call it hell house. Basically, no one wants a foster kid like me. No one wants to adopt me. So I’m here. I mean, it could be a lot worse, but it’s not great. The food sucks. I’m always cold. My eye aches thanks to the punch from that jerk, Ryker.

I hate that guy. We’re always coming to blows. If he would just keep his big mouth shut, I could ignore him, but he must be allergic to shutting the hell up.

“I probably did whatever you’re accusing me of,” I say, starting the conversation and doing my best to look bored. “So go ahead and just give me extra chores.”

Reggie’s quiet long enough to make me nervous, and I shift in my seat.

“We have a few things to discuss,” he finally says and drags his hand down his face. “First of all, your dad—”

“No.”

Reggie sighs. “I get it.”

“No, you don’t.”

No one will ever get it, and that’s the way it should be. I fucking hate that this is my life.

I hate my life.

“You’re right.” Reggie looks down at the paper on his desk. “I don’t. But I’m trying to empathize with you, Gideon. He’s written you letters every week.”

“Throw them away.”

His face is grim. “I do. But there are about to be some changes, and I need to know, before that happens, if you’d like me to take you to see him.”

The thought of coming face-to-face with my murderous bastard of a sperm donor makes my stomach twist.

“Fuck. No.”

Reggie nods. “Okay.”

My eyes narrow, and my hands fist on my lap. “You really won’t make me go?”

“I’m not in the habit of forcing teenage boys to visit their fathers in prison.”

“But the state—”

“They can’t make you go either. I’m asking because while you don’t want to read what your father has to say, I have to read it to make sure he’s not saying anything incriminating or abusive to you. I know you don’t like me very much, but I’m on your side, kiddo.”

I don’t reply to that. My hands ball into fists, and I wait for him to keep talking.

“He’s asked to see you.”

“No.”

He nods. “You’ve already said that. You don’t have to go. Now, you do need to pack your stuff up because you’re being moved to a house.”

My gaze whips up, and nerves immediately settle in my chest, making my throat close.

This could be worse than hell house.

“I’ll be driving you this afternoon.”

“Where?”

“It’s a ranch about three hours from here. The owners, Debbie and Ray, are really good people, and you’re going to spend the summer with them.”

I get to spend the summer on a ranch? It feels like I just won the lottery.

“Ryker is going with you.”

Nope. Didn’t win the fucking lottery.

“I’m not going.”

“Unfortunately, this isn’t something you have a choice in. You have thirty minutes to pack your bag.”

He stands, like that’s the end of the conversation.

“What if I refuse?”

Reggie sighs and shakes his head. “You don’t get to refuse, Gideon. You’re fifteen, and you go where the state says you go. But I can tell you that it’s better than here. If you give it a chance, you just might like it.”

It’s a big freaking house.

That’s the first thing that comes to mind when Reggie comes to a stop in front of the house on the ranch and cuts the engine. Ryker and I are both quiet as we take it in.

It looks like something out of a movie. A gigantic house with mountains in the background that don’t look real. There’s a wraparound porch, and an older couple standing on the steps, who meet us when we all get out of the car.

Reggie sets our bags at our feet.

“Ryker, Gideon, I want to introduce you to Ray and Debbie,” Reggie says.

Ryker steps forward to shake Ray’s hand, and then Ray turns to me and shakes mine too.

“Hello,” I mumble, looking him in the eye. He doesn’t look mean. His hand is firm, but not too rough.

“I’m Deb,” the little wisp of a woman says, folding me down in her arms. She’s so short. So little, I’m afraid I might break her if I hug her too hard, and she’s clinging to me like I’m her own kid.

I look at Ryker over her shoulder, and he just shrugs.

“You’ll be staying in the bunkhouse with the hands,” Ray tells us, and starts to explain what’s expected of us out here. “I have one hard rule.”

He narrows his eyes now, making sure we’re listening to him as he gestures to Debbie.

“This is my wife. The love of my life. The only reason I do anything. No one sasses her on this ranch. You treat her with the kindness and respect that she’ll show you.

You’ll get no second chances. If I find out that you even look at her sideways, you’re out of here.

Everything else we’ll figure out as we go. ”

Watching them together makes my stomach hurt.

I wish my dad had loved my mom like that.

“Yes, sir,” I mutter along with Ryker, and then there’s a girl riding up to us on a horse, her blond hair blowing around her. She looks about our age.

“This is my niece, Willow,” Debbie says as the girl joins us.

“Same rule applies to Willow,” Ray says, and Willow smiles at him.

“You’ll love it here,” she says. She’s so . . . happy. Like a little ray of sunshine.

As the day goes on, we’re shown to the bunkhouse, where I take the top bunk, and then the barn. We meet the other hands that work on the ranch, and then it’s time for dinner.

“Debbie makes the best fried chicken,” Willow says as we walk to the house.

She’s been hanging out with us all day. Ryker and I haven’t said much to each other, which is new for us. The asshole is always running his mouth.

I freaking hate him. He’s a jerk.

But Willow says we’re all going to be friends. Ryker’s looking at her like she hung the moon, which I’d usually make fun of him for, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings.

I suspect we’ll give her whatever she wants. She’s sweet.

Whatever.

“Come on in, kids,” Debbie says with a bright smile that makes my chest hurt again. “Dinner’s on the table. Go wash your hands first.”

Willow was right.

Debbie makes some good fried chicken.

“I’ll help you clean up,” I find myself saying after we’re all done eating.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that tonight,” Debbie says, patting my back. “But I’m going to keep feeding you lots of food because you’re too skinny.”

There is never enough food at hell house.

She stops and looks up at me, narrows her eyes, and it feels like she’s staring into my soul.

No one should look at me this deep.

“You’re safe here, Gideon,” she says softly as the others file outside to the porch. “You’re safe with Ray and me. If you need anything, you just ask me. If you have questions, same goes.”

I nod because I have a lump in my throat.

When was the last time someone was so . . . nice to me? I don’t remember.

“I’m happy you’re here,” she continues.

“Thanks.”

“Go on.” She pats my back again. “Go rest up. You’re going to be putting in long hours this summer.”

“I’m okay with the work.”

That makes her smile again, and I’d do just about anything for more of her smiles. I think I might have fallen in love with this tiny woman today.

“I know you are. You’re going to do great. Now, you go out with the others and get some rest. Tomorrow, I want to know what all your favorite foods are so I can get them from the grocery when I go.”

Nodding, I head to the door.

“And Gideon?”

“Yes, ma’am?” I turn, and my breath catches when she smiles at me again.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.”