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Margie’s lips thin for a second. “He’s in Helena—what he don’t know won’t hurt him.”
I don’t even consider it. This town is too small to keep its mouth shut. My father would hear all about my night at the Saddle before he even left Helena.
We got enough account for where you’re concerned without you muddying the waters by running wild...
“Have a good night, Margie,” I say instead of making more excuses for why I don’t have the same sort of freedom my little sister does. “Keep the change.” I hold up my hand with another smile before I turn to push my way through the diner door.
Outside, I cross the street to the small, family-owned grocery store that services the town between monthly trips to the Costco in Great Falls. I work fast, loading my basket with the basics along with a few items I think a non-vegan asshole from California would want. Satisfied that even if he’s not happy with my purchases, he won’t starve, I push my basket to the register, submitting to the required ten minutes of small talk and information mining.
What’s your father run off to Helena for, so sudden?
I hear someone has a date with Brock Morris this Friday...
Who was that big fella Damien Bravebird had with him in his truck this afternoon?
“Drifter.” I give Peggy, the owner’s wife and the only cashier in the store a flat smile while she rings up my purchase by hand. “Damien picked him up for some day labor on the way back from seeing his mom.”
Peggy purses her lips at the thought of a drifter running loose in the valley. “I can’t imagine your father would agree to having someone like that on the ranch.”
You’d be surprised.
“Not to worry, Peggy.” I force the corners of my mouth into a genuine smile. “He’s already gone.”
Fending off the offer to help me to my car—probably so she can continue to pepper me with questions, I grab my box of groceries and make my escape.
Practically throwing the box in the back of my mom’s Landcruiser, I jump behind the wheel and make the trip back to the Barr TT as fast as I can.
Passing the turn-off that leads to the main house and outbuildings, I climb the mountain to Northpoint, shaky hands gripped around the steering wheel, heart lodged in my throat.
You made the trip by truck with Damien this morning without falling apart. No reason you can’t do it again.
Don’t fall apart.
Don’t you dare fall apart.
I’m not even aware that I’m holding my breath until my lungs start to burn and black dots start to swim and squiggle in front of eyes.
Breathe, Kaity.
Just breathe...
“I can’t.”
It didn’t hurt.
I didn’t even know it was coming, I promise.
“I don’t believe you,” I wheeze out before taking a long, deep breath. “You just don’t want me to blame myself."
That’s because it’s not your fault.
It’s not anyone’s fault.
“Dad would disagree.” Cresting the top of the mountain, I take the immediate right that brings Northpoint into view. I can see the front door standing open from here.
Bringing the Landcruiser to a stop, I cut the engine and stare through the passenger side window at the gorgeous, giant man sprawled out, fast asleep in the porch chair closest to the open front door.
Panic and grief disappear, pushed aside by a wave of frustrated distain. Out of the Landcruiser, I slam the door hard enough to rock it before circling around the back to retrieve the box full of groceries.