What’s most aggravating is the fact that the less I see him, the more I want to see him. It shouldn’t be that way, but it is. Maybe it’s because I’ve got it set in my mind now that I have to talk to him, I don’t know. But even so, I’m not seeking him out. I’m just not that brave, even though both Fox and Del’s words keep running through my head.
I’m bored out of my mind. I’m so used to working, to being busy every single moment of every single day that I’m having a hard time adjusting to the fact that I’ve got nothing to do. I do what I can to help my mother, but she seems to be doing okay and brushes me off every chance she gets. I still cook and clean for her but that doesn’t take up too much of my time. I’ve tried reading but I just can’t get into any books right now. My mind just wants to think about two things. And when I say think, I mean worry.
It wants to worry about work. The reception here isn’t that great and the wifi is pretty shitty, so emails take forever to send and load. Even though I’ve asked to be CCed on every single email that’s going to Pete or that Pete sends out, I’m getting less and less of them, and when I finally do get them, it’s old news. So, of course, it looks like I don’t really care about the clients when I do.
And then I want to worry about Shane. Maybe worry isn’t the right word, but more often than not, my mind keeps being drawn back to him. It’s probably because I have too much time to think.
But then the opportunity presents itself. Hank sees me moping about on the porch, all hot and irritated and bored, and asks if I wouldn’t mind lending a helping hand.
“Of course,” I say, grateful for something to do, to feel useful. I lift myself off the rocking chair, wiping my sweaty palms on my shorts. “What do you need?”
“Well,” Hank says cautiously, rubbing at his moustache. “Shane’s in the stable and I know there are some repairs to be done. Maybe see if he needs some help.”
Oh, I see.
“That’s not a problem, is it?” he asks.
I paste a smile on my lips. I don’t want to get into this with Hank, not while I’m living on his property. “Not at all. I’d be glad to help.”
I head down the sloping grass to the stable, feeling my heart start to kick up with each step I take. When I get to the stable, it’s dark and empty, the familiar smell of grain, hay, and manure reaching a happy place inside of me.
I hear the sound of rushing water, so I go around the corner to where the tap is.
And my mouth drops open.
Shane is shirtless and rinsing himself off with the hose. Beside him is his buckskin mare, Polly, but I barely see her. All I can see is the river of water as it runs down the hard, tanned planes of arms, chest, and torso.
Fuck me. When Shane was younger he was in fine shape, albeit a little on the thin side. Now he’s filled out completely. He might not be a hulk or a beast like Mav or Fox, but he’s fucking fit as hell and absolutely ripped. He even has those sharp V muscles on his hips, something he’s never had before.
“Jesus,” Shane swears, finally noticing I’m there. I guess I have been standing here silently and gawking at him like an idiot.
I immediately try and play it cool, lifting my chin. “Hey. Sorry to interrupt your shower.”
He gives me a small smile and pushes his wet hair off his face.
My god, he’s so fucking gorgeous.
Everything inside me is churning, and I’m on fire, inside and out.
“Only way to cool off,” he says and gestures to Polly tied up to the post beside him, who I now realize is also wet. “Figured I’d take care of the both of us.”
“Your jeans are all wet,” I point out. How observant of me.
“They’ll dry in a second,” he says, turning the hose over in his hands. “I could take them off if you want.”
Don’t fall into the trap, Rachel. Keep your cool.
I ignore the comment. “Your dad said you probably needed my help.”
He cocks a brow. “Did he now?”
I shrug. “Yeah. And honestly, I need something to do. I’m going crazy with boredom.”
He studies my face for a moment, his golden eyes so intense that I fight the urge to look away. “That doesn’t sound like the Rachel I know.”
Good.
“The Rachel I knew,” he goes on, “could lie in a field for hours and be entertained by the clouds.”
“Yeah, well that Rachel didn’t have a job to worry about and bills to pay.”
“That Rachel was a lot more fun.”
I give him the stink-eye. “Hey, I’m still fun.”
“I doubt it,” he says, turning his back to me to pay attention to Polly.
“Hey,” I say again, really annoyed now. “Don’t pretend like you know me. You don’t. I may have changed but it doesn’t mean I’m some fussy city bitch now.”
He looks over his shoulder at me, frowning. “I would never think that of you.”
My throat feels thick as I swallow. “Oh.”
“I’m just saying…when you were young, the word bored wasn’t in your vocabulary. And believe me, you had a lot to worry about then. I know.”
And just like that, all our history hits me square in the chest. Everything I’d gone through in the past, it was something I’d only told a handful of people throughout my whole life. There was Shane. My mother. And a few shrinks and counselors. Samuel doesn’t know. None of my boyfriends did. None of my friends either.
I’m looking at one of the few people, if not the only person, who knows the deepest, darkest parts of me. The pull I feel toward him is indescribable.
He knew them all and he left you, the voice inside me says. What does that say about him? About you?
“Hey,” he says gently, taking steps toward me until he’s just a foot away. He peers down at me and I can’t help but stare up at him. He runs the tip of his finger between my brows. “No frowning. Those are the ranch rules.”
I close my eyes at his touch, trying desperately to feel grounded. One simple touch and I feel like I just might float away.
He takes his hand away but doesn’t step back. I can feel the heat coming off of him. He smells like hay and cold water, and everything inside me is slowly coming alive.
“You really want to help?” he asks, his voice bringing me back.
I nod, opening my eyes to meet his.
“You can start by laughing again.”
“Laughing?” I repeat.
“Yeah. Laughing. You have the most beautiful laugh, Rachel. Why do you think I spent so many years trying to make you laugh?”
“I thought I was always trying to make you laugh.”
“Maybe,” he says. “But I think it would do you good.”
I give him a wry look. “I’m not about to laugh on cue. Besides, I don’t have a lot to laugh about right now.”
“With your mom? I get it. But she’s going to be okay. And she’ll be even better than okay if she knows you’re okay.”
“But I’m not okay.”
There. I said it.
I’m not okay.
Shane watches me and gradually nods, looking off into the distance, squinting at the sun. “I know all of this is hard on you. It’s hard on me too.”
“How?”
He licks his lips. “I won’t pretend I know what it’s like to be in your shoes right now. I lost my mother before I even had the chance to know her.” He glances at me thoughtfully. “Or maybe that’s the same thing for you. That you never really had a chance to know your mother until now.”
I sigh, running my hand down my face. I’ve been dying to talk about this with someone, I just can’t believe that it’s Shane.
Or maybe I can believe it. Because it feels more than right.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” he says.
“No, no. It’s fine. I just…I don’t know where to start. When I told my boss that I was coming here, you know what he said? He said, if it’s just stage one cancer, then why do you have to g
o? And for a split second I almost agreed with him. Because that’s what I’ve trained myself to do. To pretend that she doesn’t exist, that we have nothing between us that counts.” I pause, cringing at how callous those thoughts were. “And then I thought, wait a minute. Why does my mother have to be on her fucking deathbed before I go? Why do people have to die or almost die before we decide we need to make things right? So that’s why I came. Because I should have come sooner and I wasn’t going to wait until later.”
“And how has it been?”
“I don’t know. She’s different. And maybe it’s because I’m different and I’m seeing her through new eyes, or maybe I’m the same and she’s changed, I don’t know. But it’s…both hopeful and scary at the same time. Hopeful because I think maybe we can move past it. Maybe I can forgive her, even if she doesn’t ask for forgiveness. And scary because, well…what if she hurts me again? What if she isn’t the mother I hope she can be? And what if I’m just…worthless all over again?”
Over those last words, I start choking up. Tears spring to my eyes, burning at the corners.
“Hey,” Shane says softly, dropping the hose and wrapping his arms around me. He does this without asking, without offering, holding me like it’s second nature.
And though I’m stiff at first because it feels like my heart is breaking for a million different reasons, it’s not long before I relax and let myself completely melt into him. It doesn’t matter that he’s wet, or that I haven’t been in his arms since before my life was turned upside down, or that he’s the one who tore it all up. None of that matters right now.
Somehow, though, I manage not to cry buckets and have a small bit of control. And it’s through that control that I realize that being in Shane’s arms is the absolute last place I need to be.
I pull back, putting space between us, and give him an awkward smile. “Sorry. I just…I guess I needed to talk.”
He’s still watching me, brimming with intensity. “Is that all you need to talk about?”
I breathe in deeply through my nose, trying to summon the courage. “No. I need to talk to you.”
He nods. “And I need to talk to you.”
I take another step back. “But honestly, I…I don’t want to get into it right now. I can’t.” Even just talking about my mom has put me in this extremely vulnerable state. I don’t want to rock the boat.
“I understand,” he says. “I just…” He runs his hand through his hair. “There are so many things I need to tell you. So many things I need you to know. And I know it probably doesn’t matter to you, but it matters to me.”
Suddenly, I’m afraid. Terrified to the core. Not of him. Of what he might say and how I might feel about it.
The last thing I want is to look at Shane with new eyes. I need to hold on to the anger and bitterness because I think that’s the only thing keeping my heart safe right now. It’s the only thing keeping my current life on course.
“Maybe some other time,” I tell him. “I only wanted to see if you needed help.”
He sighs, nodding. “Of course,” he says, looking around him before picking up the hose. “Honestly, today I’ve pretty much got things under control. I’d suggest we go for a ride but since I just washed Polly, maybe we should save that for another time. If you’re interested, of course.”
“Every time I was stressed out or sad, you’d always get me on a horse,” I say quietly, smiling at the memories.
“And it always worked,” he says. “You were laughing in no time.”
Images of the two of us riding across the range fill my head, both of us double bareback, my arms wrapped around his waist, laughing into the wind as the hooves flew beneath us. We were young, we were free, we didn’t care about anything but each other.
What the fuck happened?
But before I can dwell on that, Shane is pointing the hose at me and saying, “Still, I know of another way to make you laugh.”
He squeezes the trigger and the water comes on full blast, hitting me right in the chest.
And of course, I’m in a white tank top.
“You asshole!” I yell at him, spinning around, trying to get out of the way, but he keeps that water right on me until I’m soaked to the bone and running away from him, yelling, and yes, laughing. I’m laughing my ass off.
“I told you,” he says, grinning from ear to ear.
I shake my head, water flying onto the side of the barn. “I’ll get you back for this,” I point at him, making sure he knows my threat is real.
Then I stalk away from him, all the way back to the cottage.
I’m smiling the entire time.
9
Shane
Past – 16 years old
I’m in trouble.
The front door slams shut, shaking the whole house, and I know it’s Fox even before he yells, “Where is that little shit?!”
“Go easy on him,” Maverick’s muffled voice says from somewhere in the kitchen. These walls are damn thin. At least I have time to prepare myself.
I stand up, put my book away, and move into the middle of my bedroom. Shoulders back, hands curled into fists, feet grounded.
I fucked up. I knew this was coming.
Loud steps come up the staircase, thumping down the hall to my room at the end.
The door slams open, the framed picture of me and Rachel on the wall rattling.
Fox steps inside, his face red, pointing his finger at me. “You have ten seconds to tell me how the fuck you’re going to fix this.”
I open my mouth to speak.
Fox punches me squarely in the jaw.
Stars fly behind my eyes, and I stumble backward until I hit my desk.
He swings at me again.
I duck and go for his waist, wrapping my arms around him and pushing him back until he’s slammed against the opposite wall.
“Hey, cut it out!” Maverick yells at us, appearing at the doorway, but Fox is intent on killing me and I’m intent on trying to save my own hide. Somehow Maverick wrangles himself between us, pushing us apart. All of us are breathing hard, and Fox’s eyes show no mercy as he stares at me.
“You fucking piece of shit,” Fox yells at me, spit flying. “Who the fuck said you could borrow my truck?”
“It was just for a few hours,” I tell him, yelling right back.
“And in that few hours you fucking wrecked it!”
“I didn’t wreck it! It’s just a dent. It will come out.”
“You fuck, you knew I was selling that thing!”
“I didn’t know that. I knew you got a Jeep, I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Guys!” Maverick yells, head volleying between us both. “Grandpa is trying to have a nap.”
“Like hell I am,” Grandpa says. Oh great, now he’s here. “Just what on earth is going on here? It’s almost Christmas. Can’t you boys show a bit of respect to the Lord?”
“This fuckhead stole my truck!” Fox says, huffing and puffing. “He doesn’t even have his full license. And then he totals it.”
“It was a dent! And I’m sorry.”
“Shane,” my grandfather says, sounding beyond disappointed. Shit. I hate that. “Is this true? Did you take his truck?”
My nostrils flare as I try and keep my anger under control. Perhaps it’s unjustified anger, but it’s anger all the same. “I wanted to take Rachel to the hot springs.”
“Fucking Rachel,” Fox swears. “You’ll do anything for pussy, won’t you?”
“Fox, watch your damn mouth,” Grandpa says, stepping into the room. “Rachel is a good girl and has nothing to do with this. Show some respect.”
At least Fox has the decency to look chagrined.
“Shane.” Grandpa turns his discerning gaze to me. “You know better than this. I’m disappointed in you. You’re supposed to be the level-headed one here.”
I sigh and look away, rubbing at my jaw. There’s going to be a bruise later. “I didn’t think anyone would care. Fox s
aid he got a new Jeep down in Idaho. I thought he wouldn’t care about the truck.” And that’s partly the truth. Fox is attending school for firefighting down in the States because it’s less expensive to attend and he’s only around during holidays. I thought he’d care, but I didn’t think he’d care that much. I also didn’t think he’d notice. I wasn’t supposed to back up into that tree stump. It just happened.
“Well, how am I supposed to sell the truck? That thing was practically brand new and flawless. I was going to get almost all my money back. Now I have to spend extra money or take a loss, and it’s a loss either way.”
Maverick folds his arms and steps back, satisfied that we’ve stopped going after each other and wary that we might start up again.
Grandpa looks at me. “Well, boy, how are you going to fix this? Because, in your case, sorry doesn’t cut it. You should just be glad that this isn’t getting written on your record. If anyone found out that you drove a truck without a full license and then damaged it, you would be in huge horseshit.”
“I don’t know,” I say. I wanted an after-school job but my dad needs me on the ranch, and I don’t get paid for that. “Somehow.”
“With what money?” Fox counters.
“You know I don’t have any.” I glare at him. The last bit of cash I had from doing some odds and ends work went to buying Rachel’s Christmas present. “I’d buy the truck off of you if I could.”
“Or pay for the repairs,” Fox says.
“How would you buy the truck?” Grandpa asks.
“I don’t know. But I need a truck, don’t I? If I’m going to continue working on the ranch, doing the job of a hired hand, I should at least have a vehicle, and you and Dad are always using yours.”
Grandpa nods. “You have a point.”
I hate to admit it to them, but there’s another reason why I want that truck. It was in that truck, last night at the hot springs under a brilliant full moon, where I finally told Rachel I loved her.
I’d been sitting on that for a long time, holding it close, so afraid that even after dating for three years, that it wouldn’t ring true, wouldn’t be enough. I’ve been in love with Rachel from the day I first laid eyes on her, even before I knew what it all meant, and I’ve let it build and boil and rage inside me. It raged beautifully for years. I think that’s the basis for real love. Letting it burn you up from the inside out until you can no longer contain it.