21. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Colt
Spoon to mouth, I hear the door of the main house slam, loud, forceful thuds echoing through to the kitchen, followed by the slam of a door upstairs. Couldn’t be anyone else but her. She wasn’t expected back until supper at least.
I check the old gold watch, a hand-me-down from my gramps, it’s only early afternoon. Far too early for them to have fixed the rear ranch fences.
The twist in my stomach tells me something went wrong. And that something is likely Wade.
Do I leave Maeve be, or do I check on her? Will she think I am overbearing? I need to stop getting in my head about her; she likes me. She said as much. A friend would check on another friend. And that’s what we are… friends.
As I make my way up the steps, I can hear her mumble to herself in her room, a steady rhythm of steps indicating she is pacing the room. Something definitely is wrong.
I knock. “Maeve, it’s me. Can I come in?”
The pacing stops. A beat of silence, then the door opens.
“You good?” I stare down at her, taken aback by how beautifully blue her watery eyes are. A sight that makes my heart skip a beat but also break.
Maeve drags the back of her hand across her cheek, wiping away the signs of her upset.
“Just having a moment, that’s all.” She forces a smile that doesn't quite reach the blue of her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
“Well, how about we do something to get you out of that moment? Anything you want, we will do it.”
My therapist would say this is one of those behaviours that I need to keep an eye on. A chronic need to fix other people's pain at my expense. And she’d be right; I’ve got work backed up that desperately needs doing. But standing here, looking at Maeve, I genuinely couldn't care less.
“Let’s go out! Like out-out!” She exclaims, still sniffly.
“Out-out? It’s two in the afternoon?”
She lets out a loud laugh, almost forced. “Not now, you eejit. Later! That Lone Coyote bar in town. I want to go.” She clasps her hands together and bats her eyelashes with absolutely zero subtlety. “Pleeeease.”
“Puppy-dog eyes. Really?” I lean against the doorframe, fighting my own smile. “Fine. After supper, let’s go out-out.” My hands do the air quotations when saying out-out—must be a British thing. “Better put your dancing boots on because it’s Wild she deserves a night out.” I quip.
Bryan grins wide “Damn right. They do say work hard, play harder! Have fun, kiddos.”
Wade says nothing, storming past us and following Bryan toward the back of the house. Maeve's expression flickers briefly before she pulls the door open and steps out ahead of me.
*
The Lone Coyote is exactly what it always is on Wild she is laughing at it all. I don’t particularly find it funny. “Let's get you some water.”
“But I'm fine—”
And that’s when Maeve throws up all over my cowboy boots.
Naomi hands me a bar towel, and she laughs uncontrollably. She squeezes my arm once.
“Go and look after her,” she says. “I will be fine.”
With a quick, awkward hug bye, I leave with Maeve in my arms and Naomi on my mind.
The ride back is quiet, Maeve leaning against my shoulder in the back of Jack’s truck, somewhere between asleep and conscious. I get her up the stairs and into her room, and she dramatically flops onto the bed.
I grab her a glass of water and sit on the edge of the bed.
“Maeve.”
A groan. Long. Suffering.
“Water. Drink it, please,” I plead.
She pushes herself upright, zombie-like, and I put my hand on her back so she doesn't tip sideways. She takes several long gulps and hands the glass back without opening her eyes.
“Colt, can I tell you something?”
I nod, “Anything, Maeve. You can tell me anything.”
“I don’t want to go home.” Her voice is small, almost childlike. “This feels like my home.”
She doesn’t want to go home.
The words make me feel what I can only label as hope. Hope that Maeve can fit into my life permanently. As a friend, or maybe more.
Well, that’s if she even likes me like that. I still don’t know. Sure, I know she likes me, but the word friend has been used far too much, and back in the bar, Naomi did nearly evaporate any last thought that she could like me more. Yet, I can’t help but lean into her, hugging her.
“I don’t want you to go home either, Maeve.” I mean it more than I know how to say. “You belong here, Maeve.”
“Belong…” she leans into my hug. “That’s all I ever wanted. To belong.” A tear falls down her cheek as I wipe it away.
“You can stay here as long as you want, Maeve, I promise. We don’t need to go anywhere.” It's a promise I'm not entirely sure I can keep—that's Wade's call, and the state government’s. But I will do everything to keep her here.
“You're one of my favourite people, Colt,” she murmurs. And then, within thirty seconds, she's asleep on my shoulder.
I sit there longer than I need to.
One of my favourite people.
Drunk words or the truth? In this moment, I couldn't care less. I hold on to those words and let hope settle in my chest.