Page 68
Story: For Her
“Thank you for telling me,” she suddenly stated and slid down from the stool. I didn’t say a word as she disappeared into her bedroom without a backward glance and gently shut the door.
I waited. I don’t know how long I waited for her to come back out, but she never did.
Eventually, I found my way into my room and plopped down on the mattress—where I waited some more. I had no idea what I would say or do to help her. The emotions that she had to be feeling, the thoughts that had to be consuming her were things I would never understand.
So, I simply waited. Not just for her, but for any update from my family.
And was met with silence on both fronts, leading me into a very restless sleep.
∞∞∞
My knuckles hovered in front of her bedroom door. Still no sound had come from the tomb of desolation she’d committed herself to last night. Maybe she didn’t want anyone to disturb her, but I also didn’t want her to feel so alone with such burdensome news. If she needed to hate someone, be mad at someone, I would accept that cruel fate in a heartbeat.
That would be better than her blaming herself, or even her father, for whatever the reason was that this secret had been kept. She was not at fault, and I had to believe that her father kept it from her to protect her. I had to believe that. The man she talked about—the man that raised such an incredible, feisty, beautiful woman—wouldn’t have subjected her to such destruction on purpose.
Slowly, I lowered my fist. Interrupting her morning wouldn’t do any good, would it? This wasn’t even my burden, yet I felt as if I was helplessly drowning in the pain that must be consuming her.
Knock, Cassidy. Even if she didn’t answer the door, letting her know that I was here would help, wouldn’t it? Closing my eyes, I willed my hand to raise and rapped my knuckles against her door frame.
Silence.
Not a creak of a floorboard or the gentle squeak of her bed frame met my ears.
“Hey, Goldie,” I gently said through the door. “Uh, just thought I’d let you know my parents texted. Tenley’s been stabilized, and the baby is supposed to be here any minute.” Pausing, hoping that at least a grunt of acknowledgement would arrive at my ears, I waited.
Yet there was still nothing. Running my fingers through my hair as the silence settled heavy on my heart, my tongue moved once again, letting words pass my lips as if on their own. “There’s bacon and pancakes waiting in the fridge for whenever you’re up and going. I’m gonna go take care of chores and then see if I can rope one of the hands into helping me move panels for Sundance’s round pen.”
Still not a sound as I pressed my ear against her door.
Sighing, I adjusted my belt. “And don’t worry, I know what you’re going to say. I won’t drive the tractor. My head’s not much better but the pain meds are helping. Anyway, take all the time you need. I wrote my number down on a piece of paper that’s sitting on the counter. If I have service and you call…” My voice trailed off as I closed my eyes. There wasn’t a single noise indicating that she was listening or had heard what I was saying.
“I’m here, Goldie,” I whispered, tugged my hat low over my head, and headed out for the day.
Time was nonsensical as I worked through morning chores. Despite telling Briar that I would rope a hand into helping me, my entire soul begged for it to be her. Everything in me hoped that she would leave her room and come join me, instead of one of the guys. Weston wouldn’t want the already spread thin hands helping me on a side project when there was much to do around the ranch anyway.
But I also told her I wouldn’t be driving the forklift. So instead, I found myself working Sundance around the round pen, lost in thoughts about the insanity that life had become in just a few weeks.
As I laid the rope gently over his back, he snorted but didn’t flinch, which was a nice improvement. I then quickly slid it down from the horse and scratched his nose. His tongue flicked out, licking my wrist as a sigh escaped my chest.
There was no way I’d ever be able to fathom what she was feeling, dealing with, having to process. On top of some guy being after her—though we’d done a good job evading him up to this point—to find out that her mother was alive after believing for her entire life that she had died…
Words to make sense of it all did not form in my mind as my fingers mindlessly trickled up and down Sundance’s face.
“What happened to getting a hand to help?” Briar’s honey-silk voice pierced my muddied thoughts. Glancing over my shoulder, I tracked her down to the edge of the round pen, surprised but happy to see her.
“That hand I was hopin’ for was you,” I casually replied, ignoring the bubbling of concern and desire to ask her if she was alright. A hesitant smile lifted on my lips, and she braced against the railing and plunked her chin down on her arms.
“How about after, we talk over some lunch?” she cautiously asked, her doe eyes widening.
“You know just the way to a man’s heart,” I lightly teased and turned back to Sundance, untying his halter.
“It’s just sandwiches, so don’t get your hopes up,” she answered, immediately shutting me down. But it also wasn’t an outright rejection.
I should’ve held my tongue, should’ve waited until we were back at my house, but I couldn’t. “How are you handling everything?” I blurted out and slipped the halter off Sundance.
The moment my eyes met her, I regretted asking. Tears welled up in the gray gaze that held overwhelming emotions.
Immediately, I hung the halter on the side of the railing and darted through the gate. Rushing around the side of the round pen, I ignored all caution that she’d thrown toward me and wrapped my arms around her. As I cradled her head against my body, cocooning her within whatever minimal strength I had at the moment, she sobbed.
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