21. Dalton
Dalton
Ideserved Jake’s condemnation. His silent Fuck you to accompany the disaster my life had become. Except that condemnation never came.
To be honest, my job at Hadley & Maine had been so-so from the start. Until Logan Cotterhill showed up, and then it became hellish.
But even before that, apart from leaving Lucas behind, it was a job I’d have been happy to walk away from. So why, at the moment when I was fired, had I felt so desperate to hang on to it?
Because it was stable. It paid well. I was good enough at my work that I didn’t really have to think about it. It was a known quantity.
I’d thought about quitting all the time. Handing in my two weeks, and then not serving those two weeks, just to be petty. But to have it taken from me? The thing I’d not wanted being ripped out of my hands? Felt like holding onto razor wire.
And standing there, watching all of it, was Jake.
Being there with Jake, having brought him with me, I’d experienced a moment I’d never dreamed I’d have.
Logan had been at me, the way he typically was. Intimidation by bluster and forward motion. Those stabs in my chest.
I’d experienced this before. Remembered feeling like I wanted to crawl under a rock when he’d drag me over the coals. Not because I’d done something wrong. But because the office had so many windows, everybody could see.
I’d often thought that they were glad it was me and not them. This time. Their time would come.
Then Jake strode into that office, eyes blazing, fire inside diamonds. He was taller than Logan, all muscle and sinew. Pissed off. Nothing to lose.
He’d stepped between me and Logan like a knight on a fiery steed. Like a one-man cavalry coming over the hill at the last minute.
His arrival mirrored the end of every Saturday-morning Western I’d ever seen. All that was missing was the sound of bugles, though his That’s enough out of you, directed at Logan, was plated with gold and louder than brass.
I’d never been rescued like that before. And now I had been.
He was the kind of guy where I could see the hope in his eyes—that since I’d lost my job, my logical decision would be to make myself at home at Snow Creek Ranch.
And then, when I got nasty and said I wasn’t staying, his response was to offer to go with me to set up a new life for myself outside Scottsbluff. A half-assed ranch on a dusty, empty bend in the road, consisting of twenty acres and no water.
Even if he was sure the land had water, deep beneath the surface of the earth—and who was I to doubt him—Scottsbluff was the last place I would ever want to live.
Sure, it was pretty in the pictures. All Oregon Trail this and westward expansion that. I could see how it would probably be peaceful to settle there. But it’d be far away from those stars Jake had pointed out to me. And it’d be far away from Jake.
He’d even mentioned that he’d be willing to leave those stars behind and find new ones. For me, which brought up memories of that first night. When we’d met in the cool darkness, and he’d given me his jacket, and then scolded me for going barefoot.
That’s how he was: a bundle of contrasts.
Stern but kind. Silent, but saying volumes with his actions.
Dependable, but his own man. All of this was because of where he’d come from.
All those foster homes. Those sorry excuses for mothers and fathers.
A world where he’d learned to depend on himself.
Even I could see that, having known him only a short while.
As we sat on those boulders, his very presence soothed me.
Not to mention the cool, shaded peace he’d brought me to without a word.
And, once my tension eased, my body moved without me asking it, getting up and settling in his arms on a slanted boulder that was barely big enough for him, let alone the two of us.
But he didn’t seem to mind that I didn’t ask permission to make myself at home on his lap.
I would never want to take him away from his beloved stars. How could I, when he’d shared them with me in a way that made them feel like they belonged to me, too?
Everything about what I needed to decide seemed to be wrapped up in Jake. How he made me feel. How he looked at me as though I were the answer to every hope he’d ever had.
I opened my mouth to say something. To tell him I just needed time to figure things out. And, selfishly, I needed more nights with Jake, in his bunkhouse, while the bonfire flickered outside the windows, making it seem as though we were in a secret cave, just us two.
But I heard shouting and saw Cameron thundering down the short path to the bridge. He must have seen us go off together and was now looking for us.
“Mr. Dalton, Mr. Jake!” He held his arms out wide as he skidded to a stop at the bottom of the path.
Jake didn’t push me away as though he was worried about being seen holding me. I didn’t pull away, but I had to get up, though, because Cameron, usually pleasant and cheerful, was having a meltdown. His face was flushed, and his panting breath made his words hard to understand.
“They took Daybreak!”
Jake’s beloved truck.
“We were talking about how we wanted to go to Dairy Queen, only nobody was free to take us. And Dillon said the keys were in the truck, and then Xander said he’d drive, so he got in and started the engine.
I didn’t think it was right, but I didn’t know who to tell without getting them both in trouble. ”
He’d chosen me and Jake for this impossible task, then.
“They went into town?” Jake asked as we both looked at Cameron.
The spell of the shady spot overlooking the creek was broken.
“Yeah,” Cameron said. “I tried to talk ’em out of it. Said you guys would take us eventually. But Xander was acting all tough. Like he had something to prove. And off they went.”
My concern was more about Jake’s truck than Xander and Dillon, who should have known better than to pull a stunt like that. At least I had thought so.
“We’ll go get them,” I said.
“Yes,” Jake said.
This agreement meant untangling ourselves from each other without falling off the boulder. Cameron was already gone by the time we were on the path.
We stopped for quick kisses and my heartfelt promise to do right by Jake. Then we headed for my blue car, which would be the fastest way into town. When we got to the car, we found Lucas outside, beneath a blazing sun, on his phone, raking his fingers through his hair.
“It’s the sheriff,” he told us, and then went back to listening. “Yes, I’m sending someone. They’re not hurt?” He nodded and hung up, then held the phone out like it was a live wire that might bite. “Two of our kids—”
“Dillon and Xander,” I said.
“They drove into town. All the way to the Dairy Queen, where they ran smack-dab into one of those metal tables.”
“How’s Daybreak?” I asked because it seemed Jake wasn’t going to.
“Busted headlight,” Lucas said. “Can you go get them?”
“Yes, sir.” Jake looked at me, and I could see in his eyes that he’d rather be on that boulder in the shade than doing this. But since Lucas had asked, he was willing.
“I’ll drive.” I headed toward my car, patting my pocket for my keys, wondering where my phone was.
Beneath the driver’s seat, probably, overheating in a hot car.
But that didn’t matter as much as getting to those kids and assessing the damage.
Then making sure Daybreak was taken care of.
Jake, he was most important to me. “You okay?” I asked him over the roof of my car.
“Yes.”
I doubted it.
I drove as fast as I could into town, doing at least ten miles over the limit. I pulled into the small Dairy Queen parking lot to see Daybreak snug up against the same metal table where Jake and I had sat. When our relationship had been new.
Even before I got out of the car, I could see shards of glass. A half-circle of bright chrome on the paved ground.
Jake was right behind me, but he tugged on my shoulder. “Easy, Dalton.” As if I were the wild one in this scenario. I usually wasn’t, but I was pissed. Jake loved that truck, and he’d gone through enough crap in his life. Those kids wouldn’t get off easy if the car wasn’t fixable.
Xander was sitting right where Jake had sat, curled forward, his hood over his head, hands buried in his sleeves. I couldn’t see his face. But I could see Dillon’s. He seemed more concerned with Xander than the yellow truck, and that irritated me, too.
“You here for the kids from the ranch?” the sheriff asked.
“Yes, sir,” I said, gritting my teeth at a question whose answer was obvious.
In one more step, I’d be at Xander’s side. But Jake stopped me. His hand was fully on my arm now, and he pulled me back. “Let me handle this,” he said. He looked at the sheriff. “Is that okay, sir?”
The sheriff gave him a short nod. “Jake, right? This is your truck, so you go ahead. I’ll give you some space, and then you tell me what you want done. Warning. Ticket. Some form of detention or arrest.”
Any and all of those sounded reasonable to me, though I was distracted by the way Jake hunkered down in front of Xander and looked up at him as calm as could be.
“Xander.” His voice was low, almost soft. “I can see what happened. I know you wanted a trip to Dairy Queen. But is there a reason you couldn’t wait? Somebody would have taken you.”
Not answering, Xander shifted on the metal bench seat, like he couldn’t find the answer and was just about to make something up.
“I would have taken you if you’d asked.” Jake didn’t touch Xander, but he was right there, in Xander’s space.
“I happen to love a good Butterfinger Blizzard. Dalton here,” he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder, drawing me into the conversation, “he hates the things, but I reckon he would have joined us and gotten a little vanilla cone or something. Just to go with us for a truck ride and partake in the treat.”
I nodded, because yes, I would have done that very thing. Jake knew me pretty well.