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Chapter Six

Dallas

I secured my place in the final, which should feel more triumphant than it does.

I suppose it’s nice that Colt won. Mainly, though, all I can think about is Sarah running up to me in the aftermath of the ride, wrapping her arms around me.

She’s sleeping now, has been since the clock ticked past midnight, leaning against the passenger window as we cruise across the state, from Sisters to Gold Valley.

It’s almost a six-hour drive, and even though we hightailed it out of there as quickly as possible, it’s going to be past two in the morning by the time we pull into my parents’ place.

Just being with her gives me a strange sense of calm.

She shifts, and — seatbelt still on — reverses position, lying across the truck seat, her head in the middle, her hand on my thigh.

She’s not awake. I take one hand off the wheel and push my fingers through her hair.

She makes a sleepy, satisfied sound, and suddenly I feel like everything is right with the world.

In a way that it hasn’t been for a very long time.

I turn on the radio and crack the window, anything to keep me alert, and she stays resting against my thigh. When we roll past the familiar welcome sign that says Welcome to the Gold Valley, I feel like I can take a full breath.

I have her. She’s home with me.

The family ranch is a little ways out of town, and for some reason, this time when I turn up the familiar dirt driveway, I’m reminded of the first time I was ever here.

Fifteen years old, with my social worker, Grace, who was really and truly one of the best people I ever encountered in the system.

Patient with my nonsense, and with a genuine desire to help.

Maybe it’s being with Sarah that makes me think of the past. Because I’ve driven up this road countless times since then.

It’s become my home, in such a profound way that sometimes I don’t remember life beforehand.

Sometimes my life before this feels like it doesn’t matter or doesn’t exist. Except for Sarah.

Now that she’s here… all is well. Kind of. I’m not going to be able to let go of that man harassing her, and I swear I’m going to make sure he ends up back in prison or dead before all this is over. If he touches even one hair on her head, he’s a dead man. That’s a fact.

I don’t play when it comes to my family. Sarah is my family.

She was my family before Bennett Dodge ever was. Before Kaylee became my stepmother. Before my half-siblings were born. She was my purpose, my reason before all of this.

I drive around all the familiar potholes on the driveway, bypassing my mom and dad’s place as I head around the back of the property to where my cabin is. I pull up to the front and turn the engine off, putting the truck in park.

“We’re there,” I say, touching her face.

She looks up at me with sleepy eyes, and my stomach goes tight.

It’s like an engine inside of me revving up.

An intensity building that I don’t have a name for.

It’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before.

It’s not attraction, purely. It’s also not not attraction.

And I don’t want to feel that. Not for her.

Not when she needs safety. Stability. Not when she needs me to be safe.

She sits up, wiping at her eyes. I get out of the truck and go around to her side.

I reach across and unbuckle her, gathering her up into my arms. She hangs onto me as I carry her up the steps and into the house.

I have a second bedroom here, I just never use it.

But it’s furnished. My dad lets family stay in it when I’m gone.

I lay her down in the bed and close the bedroom door firmly behind her.

I’ll get everything out of the truck in the morning. For now, I just need to sleep.

Morning comes far too quickly. I can hear all the roosters crowing aggressively from my mom’s chicken coop.

Great . I groan, rolling over and putting my pillow over my head for a second. Then I remember that Sarah is here.

Sitting up, I fling the covers off. I rub my face as I stumble out of my bedroom and into the living room. I went to bed in my jeans and T-shirt. That’s how exhausted I was.

I stop when I get to the dining room. I can see my front door, and there’s a note on the window.

I go and I open it, looking down and seeing a tray with a covered platter, and a vase of flowers in it. Then I snag the note off the window.

Your dad looked at the doorbell camera footage from last night when you got home and saw that you had a guest. Breakfast for two.

-Mom

I shake my head. I should’ve known they would be tracking my every move – in a loving and nonjudgmental way, of course because that’s how they are.

Knowing my dad, he just wanted to make sure that I got home safely.

I don’t usually bring women back here. Not that I never have, but it’s definitely not a common enough occurrence for anyone in my family to have opinions about my sex life.

I used to push him with comments about it.

And hell, I was a little shit when I got here.

Almost sixteen and I’d spent the last year so angry without Sarah.

I’d gotten into my share of trouble – stealing things and vandalizing businesses.

I’d started sleeping around because sex was free, and it gave me a feeling of emotional closeness to the person, even if it was just for a while.

I changed when I got to Gold Valley. Changed thanks to the love my dad and Kaylee showed me.

They’re wrong here, though.

Sarah has nothing to do with my sex life, and I’m going to be making sure my family is aware of that as soon as possible.

I grab the tray and bring it inside. I lift up the cover on the platter and make an audible sound when I see the stack of pancakes.

I put the vase in the center of the table and take out the plate of pancakes. She also included a little jar of preserves and one of lemon curd. A bowl of heavy cream, some fresh berries and some maple syrup .

She’s a great woman, my stepmom. Mostly, I think of her as my mom. I don’t really have another one. If I ever think of her as my stepmom, it’s because I’m caught up in thinking about the past. But I just call her mom.

I hear a stirring sound behind me, and I turn to see Sarah standing in the doorway. “You made breakfast?”

“No. My mom did. My stepmom . Kaylee.”

“Oh,” she says, walking into the room and looking at the beautiful spread. There’s a strange emotion on her face and I can’t quite place what it is.

“What?”

“Your life is just so beautiful,” she says, looking around the little log cabin. It’s rustic, but I have to admit that it’s charming.

I try to evaluate it like I’m seeing it for the first time.

The floor is wood, with a geometric patterned rug in dusty blue colors sitting in the blank space between the living room and the kitchen.

The walls are split logs, treated with a varnish that makes them look warm and shiny.

The cabinets in the kitchen are stained cherry, a nice contrast to the walls. I’ve always liked it.

“Is this a working ranch?” she asks.

“Nah. Not really. We have horses, which…” I realize that she doesn’t know about my journey after foster care, my journey to the rodeo.

Connecting to my dad was a surprise when I moved here, but the connection I found to horses was an even more unexpected development. It’s such a deep love that goes down to my bones. That’s become part of who I am. Another thing that’s hard for me to remember a time when I wasn’t like this.

The before and after feels so strong right now.

“Lucy was my first horse,” I say, grief making my chest heavy. I’ve mourned her like a family member since she died four years ago. She wasn’t just a horse, she was my way into this new life. The first thing I was really comfortable loving here.

“How long did you have her?” Sarah asks, her voice soft.

“Five years. She was older when I moved here. We almost lost her in the first few months I was here it was kind of my intro to ranch life. It’s when I got to see my dad in action.

He’s a great vet. He loves animals and…I discovered I love them too.

He had a couple of Australian Shepherds when I moved in, too – Pepper and Cheddar.

He got a new puppy after I’d been here a while, Dougie, and he’s still around and old.

Then he got puppies for the girls once they were old enough to handle them.

Though, we could debate whether or not they’re actually taking care of them at all, so when we head over to the house it’s going to be chaos. ”

“Girls?” Sarah asks.

“Yeah, my little sisters. Cara and Lucy.”

“Wasn’t Lucy your horse?”

I feel the back of my neck get hot. “Yeah, I…named her. After my horse. Which, when you say it like that, it seems kind of weird, but at the time it made sense.”

She’s smiling at me, and it makes me want to look away from her. I don’t, though, so our eyes just hold for an uncomfortably long time and my chest feels sore.

“So yeah, there’s Lucy, who’s four, and Cara, who just turned six. Well, and the dogs.”

“That sounds like a nice big Christmas,” she says, her smile looking a little bit dreamy. “It is. Come on and eat. We’re not going to be able to avoid my family very long. I think they’ve jumped to some incorrect conclusions about your presence. ”

She frowns, going over to the table as I go to the kitchen and fire up the coffee maker. Caffeine is important.

“In what way?”

“I think my dad saw me carrying you inside on his security camera. You know, it goes off whenever somebody approaches the house. It’s practical because I’m gone all the time. I don’t think he means to use it to spy on me. Or maybe he does.