“Can I ask you a question?” I say, watching Lake over Drake’s shoulder. He smiles slightly while he talks with Kaylee. “About Lake?”
“Of course,” Drake replies.
I bite my lower lip for a moment, trying to figure out how to word my thoughts. It’s complicated and not easy to ask. “You know we’ve been working together for just over two weeks now. Your brother is a great worker, and I’m so grateful for his help. But I’ve noticed… He’s really guarded. Has he always been like that?”
I meet Drake’s eyes. They’re hazel and open. Inviting and friendly.
“No,” he says, giving his head a little shake. “I don’t know if he’s told you this, but he played football in high school. He was good, and he was very popular. Exactly the cocky jock you’d expect.”
“What happened?” I ask as we turn in a circle.
Drake shrugs. “No one knows. The last month of school his senior year, he was different. Quiet, reserved. That’s when he told us he was joining the Marines. He left the day after Kaylee and my wedding.”
“I’m sure his service took its toll.”
“I guess,” Drake says as we keep turning. “He seemed alright last time he came home. He was reserved, but he was still cracking jokes and giving Julian hell.”
“Do they get along?” I ask with a little chuckle. “The way he talks, I can’t really tell.”
Drake laughs, looking in Julian’s direction. He has his arms wrapped around Sage. They dance close and intimately. “Julian’s kind of terrified of my brother. It’s actually pretty funny, considering he’s married to Sage. But Lake just hasn’t really gotten to know Julian yet. He was only around him for a few weeks, and as you know, he immediately took off to work with you when he got back.”
“I feel kind of bad about that,” I say. “Like I’m keeping him prisoner from all of you.”
“It’s fine,” Drake says with a chuckle. “My brother is an adult. He’ll do what he needs to do. But,” he says, looking back down at me, “you’re right. He is more reserved this time. In a big way.”
A stone sinks in my stomach. So Lake hasn’t just always been this way. And I’m pretty sure I know exactly why he is.
Cal. Me. It’s hard when your best friend gives his life for you. I can imagine how it would change your entire way of thinking.
“He’s a good man,” Drake says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I can tell.” I really can.
The song comes to an end and as if connected by magnets, the whole family comes back together. I thank Drake for the dance before we all join together again.
“I have an announcement for everyone,” Drake says as his fingers interlock with Kaylee’s. “Since Sage and Julian get an entire party to brag about their work accomplishments, I don’t feel too bad about tooting my own horn for a minute. I just got word that this fall, I will be the new vice principle at Woodinville High School.”
“Alright!” Kale calls enthusiastically.
“Congratulations,” Sage and Julian say at the same time.
“Thank you,” Drake says, doing a dorky, dramatic bow.
“Well, as great as it is to see you all,” Sage says when the congrats are over. “Julian and I have some other things to attend to tonight.”
“Don’t try to sound all professional,” Kale teases. “We all know exactly what you mean.”
“Fine,” Julian says as he wraps an arm around Sage’s waist and starts pulling her toward the exit. “We’re leaving to go have sex. Wild, rambunctious sex.”
Sage’s face blushes, hard and red as she waves goodbye, and the two of them disappear.
Kale shivers obviously, and he gives a dramatic gag.
“You walked yourself into that one,” Drake says, laughing at his reaction.
“Disgusting,” Kale says.
Something chirps inside Kaylee’s bag and she pulls out her cell phone.
“It’s the babysitter,” she says. “The twins are up, and she can’t get them to calm down.” Kaylee looks up at us with a disappointed look. But it’s only skin deep. I know next to nothing about her and I can already tell she’s a good mom.
“Reality calls,” Drake says. “Riley, it was nice to meet you. We’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks of Lake.
Lake nods. “I’ll be there.”
“You’re invited too, Riley,” Kaylee pipes in as she takes Drake’s hand. “The more the merrier.”
“Oh,” I say, taken aback by the invitation into their very personal life. “Thanks. I’ll…uh, I’ll think about it.”
“Goodnight,” the two of them call as they head off.
We wave goodbye and they’re gone.
“You ready to go?” Lake says to me quietly.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “Kale, can I bother you for a picture? My friend Anita will never believe I met you. She’s a bit…obsessed?”
Kale’s smile grows big and bright. “My ladies do love me. And I’d be honored.” And he actually does a bow. Way more dramatically than Drake did just a moment ago.
McCain boys.
Lake rolls his eyes and shakes his head as I hand him my phone. Kale wraps one arm around me and flashes his most brilliant smile. I do my best. Lake snaps the picture.
“Thanks,” I say, taking my phone back. “It was nice meeting you.”
“You too,” he says with a wink. “Hey, you ever thought about getting in front of the camera?”
“Kale,” Lake says, annoyance in his voice. “Leave her alone.”
“It’s okay,” I say, feeling my face redden slightly. “I’ve been asked before, but that’s not my interest.”
Kale shrugs. “Cool. Well, you two have a good night. I’m off to find where the after party is.”
And with that, Kale darts off through the crowd.
I take Lake’s arm, and quietly we work our way through to the elevator. We ride it down and he helps me into the truck.
“Thanks again, for coming with me tonight,” Lake says as we drive through the dark night. His eyes fix on the road, his big, strong hands firmly around the wheel. It’s warm in the cab, even though the heat isn’t on. It’s all coming off him.
“No problem,” I say as I stare out the window.
I may have actually enjoyed myself.
CHAPTER NINE
Life soldiers on.
I ride. I work. I make and take calls to clients. We accept a new horse for training. Mom updates me on Aunt Lynda. It’s slow progress¸ but she’s moving in the right direction.
Lake and I work. I pay him. We continue riding lessons.
And for a week and a half, life seems to be moving along pretty smoothly.
Except for the three phone calls from unknown numbers, where there is no one on the other line. And the box of chocolates I find on the seat of my truck when I leave the feed store.
One more thing. Travis tries one more thing, and then I’ll tell someone what’s going on.
On the last Thursday in May, I grab the mail from town. This is normally Mom’s job, but since it looks like she’ll be in Virginia for at least another week, someone has to do it. I start sorting through it as I walk back to the truck.
“Hey, Riley.”
I whip around to see Kyle headed inside. He’s stopped, his hand on the door.
“Hey,” I say, looking back down at the bills.
“I don’t know if you want to come, but a bunch of people from high school are going to be in town next week. So a group of us are going to Smitty’s a week from Saturday. Thought I’d invite you, if you want to come.”
“Hanging out and drinking with a bunch of people we went to high school with?” I say, raising an eyebrow at him. “What did you think my answer was going to be?”
A smile crooks on Kyle’s mouth. “There really aren’t that many people coming.”
“Come on, Kyle,” I say, reaching for the door to my truck.
“Look, I know we were the most infamous couple in school, but we’ve mo
ved past that, right?” Kyle looks at me, his eyes somewhere between frustrated and hopeful. “I mean, come on Riley. It’s been nine years.”
I look back at him, really looking at him.
It’s both easy and hard to remember how much I loved him once. How I worshiped his charm, his confidence, and his good looks. How he looked at me like the sun rose and set in my eyes. How he’d run his hand up my back, slip under my bra, trace along my panty line. How he’d whisper things in my ear.
And how he’d look at other girls with only a small degree less than what he looked at me. How he’d rather go hang out with his buddies than be with me. How we’d fight, over everything. We’d scream until our voices gave out and the tears ran dry.
“I’ll think about it, but don’t expect me,” I finally say.
He looks at me for a long moment that really does say how he’s sorry for the past and how he really does want to repair what was broken so long ago when we crossed the line between friendship and passion.
I mutter a goodbye, climb into the truck, and head back home.
I don’t see Lake when I get back to the ranch, but his truck is parked by the garage. He’s probably somewhere out around the pasture. I set the mail inside and head out to the barn.
Lady no longer fights her halter when I slip it on her. She only tries to bite me once as I lead her out to the arena. Her short legs run furiously as I lunge her round and around, standing in the middle of her little dust tornado as she runs her circles around me.
When she’s good and warmed up, I put a blanket and a saddle on her back and climb on her. Reining her out, we walk back around the arena.
We get around at a walk twice before I move her to a trot.
And the second I nudge my heels into her sides to get her to move faster, she bucks.
Somehow she’s caught me off guard, and I sail through the air for two seconds before landing in the dirt. Lady takes off, sprinting to the other end of the arena, thoroughly spooked.
“Nice,” I say, annoyance in my voice as I pick myself up and wipe the dust off my face with the back of my sleeve. Walking with confidence, I close Lady in at one end of the arena. She only fights me a little as I pull myself back on. She really did just get spooked when I asked her to go faster. She wasn’t throwing a fit.
It’s hot, and I’m covered in dirt and sweat when I’m finished for the day. Just as I walk out of the barn, Lake comes down his stairs. His hair is wet and I can smell the scent of soap on him.
“I was just going to ask you if you were hungry,” he says. We walk together toward the house. “I got stuff for hamburgers and wondered if you wanted to share.”
“You cook?” I ask in surprise.
He chuckles. “Not really. But I do know my way around a grill. Saw you had one on the back porch.”
“Sure,” I say. “Thanks. I’m just going to go shower. Feel free to use the kitchen and whatever.”
“M’kay,” he says with a nod as we cross the backyard and then step inside. I barely even noticed the grocery bag in his hand.
I dismiss myself upstairs and take a refreshing shower before twisting my hair into its usual knot and pulling on a pair of cotton shorts and a black tank top.
“You need any help?” I call through the screen door when I see Lake outside at the grill.
“I think I got it under control,” he says.
I sink down to sit at the table and start sorting through the mail.
Ads, junk, and what looks to be three bills. I slip my finger under the fold and tear the first one open.
It’s a bill from the guy who came to look at our well late last month. My eyes widen in surprise at the huge amount he’s charged. Is this usual? ‘Cause holy shit.
The next is our hay bill. It’s well over a thousand dollars, and what I knew to expect.
And lastly is our mortgage statement.
I’ve never known how much our monthly payment was. It really wasn’t my business, and Mom just always took care of it. When I see the amount, it’s not shocking.
But the delinquency notice is.
We’re five months behind on our payments and there’s a statement saying if we don’t pay the missing amounts, they’ll start the foreclosure process three weeks from now.
Shit.
“Hope you’re hungry.”
Lake’s voice rips through my red and confused haze like a razor. My eyes dart up to him and my mouth hangs open.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. His body instantly stiffens. His brows pull together. As if on instinct, he surveys the kitchen.
I shake my head, biting my lower lip.
How did this happen? How have we suddenly run out of money? We’ve been a little slower over the winter, but that’s normal. We are always like that. And we’re so close to paying the ranch off, I do know that. How does it all fall apart this close to the finish line?
“Riley,” Lake says, drawing my attention back to him. “What’s wrong?”
I throw the bill to the table and rub my eyes. “Just real life.”
“Here,” he says. I open my eyes to see the burger he’s put in front of me. “Eat this and then I want to take you to do something.”
“What?” I ask as I pick the burger up. I meet his eyes. His own are serious and for once, slightly open. He’s concerned.
“Just eat. Then we’ll go.”
I only get down half of it before my stomach is in too tight of knots to finish. It’s good, but I’m on edge.
Lake seems to understand. He doesn’t prod me or bother me. He doesn’t dig about what’s suddenly jumped under my skin. He just finishes his food and says he’ll be back in just a minute. And he is, carrying a long bag under one arm. He next goes to the gun cabinet in the living room and pulls it open.
“You know how to shoot these?” he asks as he takes out a hunting rifle and a handgun. He handles them carefully and with respect.
I give him a look.
A small smile curls on one side of his face. “Come on then.”
I slip my boots on, cotton shorts and all, and follow Lake out to the garage. We climb on the four wheelers and we take off for the far end of the pasture.
Lake sets up a huge log round about a hundred yards away, another at fifty, and a last at twenty. When he starts walking back toward me, that lopsided smile forms on his face.
“Let’s see what you’ve got.” He hands me the handgun and unzips his bag. Inside are his own shotgun and a handgun.
I check the ammunition, load one into the chamber. Extending it out in front of me, I turn the safety off. Aiming for the further target, I breathe out and squeeze the trigger.
It’s hard to see, since the target is far away, but a few wood chips explode from the center of the log round.
“She knows how to handle a weapon,” Lake says. I look over at him, giving him a sidelong smile. Turning my attention back to the target, I fire off five more shots, making a small circle around my first shot.
“Daddy taught me right,” I say, pretending to blow off smoke from the barrel. After I slip the safety back on.
Lake chuckles and steps to my position with his own handgun. It’s bigger than mine. Newer.
He takes aim, clicks the safety off, and fires six continuous shots. All right on target of mine.
“Sorry, but I’m not that impressed knowing your history,” I taunt. “You’re supposed to be a good shot.”
“Give me a challenge then,” he says. “I might not be as good as Cal, but I can hold my own.”
“No one was better than Cal,” I say around the tug in my chest. I look around for something small to make for a more difficult target. There’s nothing besides grass and horse manure. And a few rocks.
“Wait here,” I say. I cross to the farthest target, the tall grass brushing my legs. When I reach the round, I slip my hands under my tank and unclasp my bra. It’s light blue and worn out. I slip it off and let it hang over the side of the round, using a rock on one of the straps t
o keep it there.
The right side of Lake’s mouth is all pulled up, his face flushed slightly red, when I walk back.
“Nice target,” he says as he reloads his handgun.
I shrug. “It’ll do.”
“Top or bottom cup?” he asks.
“Bottom,” I say, reloading my own gun. Little does he know that I have two handguns in my bedroom. One in my nightstand, one in my desk. “I’ll take the top. And then we’ll see who can shoot the straps out and make it drop.”
“If you say so,” he says with a smile in his voice. He levels the gun in front of him. Lets a slow breath out, and fires.
I can barely see it, but a tiny hole appears in the bottom cup, dead center.
“Eh,” I say, stepping up to center. “It’s a decent shot.”
Lake just chuckles and folds his arms over his chest.
I level the gun in front of me and squeeze the trigger. A hole appears in the top cup, but it’s off to the right. I fire off two more shots. The last one hits center.
I look back at him.
“Eh,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders.
And for just a second, I can see that kid Drake talked about. The one who played football and had confidence. The one who chased after girls and had friends. The one who could let loose and have fun every once in a while.
Turning back to the target, I fire one last shot, hitting one side of the strap. My bra jerks hard to the right, dangling from one side.
I smile at Lake as I step back, letting him take position. He levels the gun once again and fires.
My bra drops to the ground and disappears behind the grass.
Lake gives a small—more humble—smile this time. He walks back to the four wheeler, carefully placing his handgun back inside the bag.
“Feel better?” he asks as I set my gun on top of his bag.
“For the moment,” I say. I lean against the machine, looking out over the ranch, toward the brilliant red sunset.