Page 7

Chapter Six

Ronnie

I knew where we were heading by the third turn. What I didn’t know was why.

This was my single most traveled route within the town of Fellpeak. We turned onto the dirt road, and I closed my eyes and mouth as dust was spat up in our faces, leaving a storm of sand clouds behind us.

“You awake back there?” Jax turned, his muscles shifting underneath my grip. His dark eyes, covered by the almost impervious black sunglasses shielding his face, stared down at me with a near-mocking brow. Jax would have to have a sense of humor for that to happen; however, it was something I’d yet to see.

I glared, prying my hands loose from the skin-singeing black leather. The experience of holding onto his leather apparel had been night and day for me. The sun had long since been down when Jax gave me my first ride the previous night. When I had my hands on his cut, the cool night air had made me feel the soft warmth of body heat radiating from Jax. Under the glaring sunlight, however, the material felt like a hot plate. My guard had been lowered and I had forgotten how hot leather under the sun got; my hands would have dropped it like a hot potato, had I had the chance.

The chance was torn away from me when Jax had released his throttle and we shot forward into three-digit miles per hour.

If only I hadn’t heard of his club’s connection to the sheriff, I would still be holding out hope for the day he got pulled over.

“Yes, I’m awake,” I grunted. The bitterness about being dragged this way and that like a ping-pong on Jax’s every whim was also setting in for the foreseeable future. One minute he acted like he wanted nothing to do with me, but within the short week of my stay, it was beginning to seem more and more like he wanted to control every aspect of my life. Whether it was his persecution of my truck, or presently, my living conditions, I wasn’t stupid enough to believe it was because he was a nice enough guy to care. Maybe I’ll start asking his permission to breath the air or will he rather I just hold it until I shut up forever?

“You’re quiet,” he uttered in response, turning away from the frown I was sure grew heavier the longer he looked at me.

“Momma told me if I had nothing nice to say, I shouldn’t say it at all.”

“Your momma sure had a nicer mouth than you’ve ever had.”

Asshole.

With that comment, I took no time in getting up off my ass and stretching my leg. Though the trip was short, and my sleep even shorter than I’d have liked due to a certain traumatic ride home, both seemed to have rejuvenated my strength a little and I felt sturdier on my feet than I had in a while.

The moment I opened my eyes this afternoon, I had hoped for a better day, until I had hit the bathroom and saw the destruction.

I should have stayed in bed.

“Don’t talk about my momma,” I punctuated with the clip of my helmet. The strap sprung loose along with my hair before I handed it back to him.

Jax didn’t apologize.

He stood up from his seat, the bike’s suspension giving a little breath, being released from his weight. He placed the helmet on the vacated seat before Jax moved over to the saddle bags where he stuffed all of my things.

“What are you doing?”

“Unpacking your shit,” he turned with a puff of dust around his ankles and holding the bag out to me.

I looked at him, then at the bag. Then back at him. “Why?”

He frowned at me like I was a piece of gum on the bottom of his shoe. “Do you really need me to spell it out for you?”

“Whole words would be preferable than letters, actually. You know I was never good at literacy,” I chirped, earning an annoyed glare.

“You’re staying here.” Jax shoved the bag into my arms.

“What?”

I looked from him and to the ranch house—Mr. Jenkin’s ranch house to be exact.

Max, I knew, was in a stable in the empty barn. She had it all to herself since there were no other animals on the property, and all the expensive vehicles and equipment used for harvesting the corn field were stored in a safer, sealed, and alarmed facility on the other side of the land.

My gaze then shifted to the house, whose occupant I had yet to meet face-to-face.

Then at last, I looked to Jax.

He raised a brow above the lenses of his glasses. “You sure you don’t want letters? How about I write it down?”

“I can’t stay here!” I exclaimed, ignoring his rhetorical and sarcastic question.

Hugging my bag to my chest, I looked between Jax and the house. The old, dreamy home that was now filled with charm, having remained untouched by time. “It’s Mr. Jenkins’ house.”

“The old man went into hospital yesterday for hip surgery,” Jax replied, fishing a key out the other saddle bag. The thing was big, clunky, and looked heavy as Jax pulled it out. It suited the house. “Nothing major,” he added as an afterthought. “He’s just going to be out the house for a while. Told me to look after it, but I also got to be at the club. This makes it easier.”

Well, he made sense; I couldn’t deny that.

“How long will he be gone for?” I asked as Jax turned away from me, his hot cut displayed over his shoulders. I trailed after it, watching as the skull rippled with each twitch of his muscles carrying him up the porch steps.

The door swung wide. I expected a slow and steady creak but was met with smooth silence. I followed Jax through the door and onto a porch cushioned by a welcome straw mat, which was threadbare and crying with homemade style. I paused with my dusty boots on the mat.

Momma loved those….

Jax’s heavy footsteps resounding ahead brought me back as I knocked the dust from my soles before following him.

Trailing behind him, I noticed the way Jax’s large body seemed to shrink the beloved home. The ceilings were taller than the typical eight feet, but the doorframes were a contrast. They were small and built for people narrower and slimmer built than Jax, whose hair brushed along the top of each frame. Walking through them without hesitation told me that he’d been working on this farm for a long while, enough to become familiar with how he fit through each archway.

The hall led me to a similar hallway on the top of the stairs, and on this floor a beautiful arrangement of more recent photos covered the wall. They showcased a grey-haired couple, smiling in full color. The scenic and beautiful views surrounding the couple were from different parts of this land and town.

The landing was small and Jax had already turned into a bedroom by the time I had finished gazing at the photographs. I followed him past the white door and into a simple guest bedroom. The bed was pushed up against the wall on one side, a vacant vanity table and wardrobe and plain tartan sheets of the bed matching the curtains. A complementary floral wallpaper decorated each wall, and a whitewashed window overlooked the dirt path that backed up to the main road.

A muffled huff made me turn as the puffy bed sheets depressed under my duffle bag where Jax tossed it. He moved across the floor, avoiding a faded blue rug peeking out from under the bed, then dipped his head into the adjoining bathroom. I could see it was small without going in it, but either way, this was so much better than the motel room, and every other room I had been in on my road trip.

With a satisfied nod, he turned back to me, folding his arms defensively across his chest. He stayed on one side of the rug and I on the other.

“The old man doesn’t do freeloaders,” he interrupted my stare, leading my eyes from his chest to his face.

“What’s the catch then?” I replied on a sigh. I dropped onto the bed, making sure not to cross the invisible line he had drawn between us.

I almost forgot to listen to his reply as I sunk into the depths of the fluffy bed, my arms spread wide across its length. My body cried at the comfort and joy it offered. It was old but was the softest thing I had ever laid on, with the most intricate decoration above it. The plastered ceiling had detailed, delicate designs carved into it where the roof line met the walls.

God, this room was amazing.

“There’s a list of jobs you need to do. I’ve left it downstairs on the table, but I want everything done by tomorrow, then I’ll write you a new list for the day after.”

I sighed.

There was no doubt it’d be physically tough on me, I expected nothing less than a list written from Jax, but with every other facility in the rest of Fellpeak barred from my employment, I guess I’d just have to let him have his way.

“Fine,” I huffed, not looking at him.

It was quiet for a long time while I sat on the bed. I inhaled a long, deep breath of the sweet vanilla fragrance wafting from the sheets. My heart throbbed inside my chest as it rose and fell, falling into a soft lull that time seemed to wash away. I had long thought Jax had left.

“That day…,” he spoke, scaring the shit out of me.

I jerked in the bed, flicking my head in his direction. His eyes were focused on me, not flinching, not wavering. Not… anything. They just looked at me, gentle and curious from his stance in the doorway. But his arms were still wrapped around his chest, and his voice had paused, both actions telling me exactly what day he was referring to.

“The day you left?” I answered.

He nodded, a strand of dark hair moving over one eye. He didn’t move it.

Silence once again fell between us, but I waited. Waited and watched until I saw Jax’s mouth move once more.

“Why didn’t you come with me?”

“You know I couldn’t, Jackson,” I whispered, my heart feeling that same pain it did on the very night I saw him walk away. “I couldn’t leave the ranch behind. I still wanted to make a change. I thought I could do it. I thought I could make it better.”

Thought. Past tense.

I wondered if Jax would pick up on it, but the next sounds I heard weren’t his voice, or mine, but his boots walking out the room, down the stairs and out the door.

I was left on the bed, quiet. My voice was anchored deep in my throat, weighed down by the guilt I’d been carrying for years. It grew with the lingering sound of his motorcycle driving away from me as fast as it could.

Maybe there was no room for apologies between us, after all.

* * *

E very morning started with the usual list of household chores, or patrols around the fields, checking the rodent traps, fixing holes in fences, changing the oil in the quadbikes, mucking out Max’s stable, and the ten thousand other things I had to do to keep this place running.

It wasn’t unfamiliar work, but it was work I hadn’t done in a while. Even so, I didn’t complain. I just got on with it like I was expected to do. And although I found it tiring, it was nice to do a full day’s work again instead of sitting around the house all day long like I was once told to do. Like I had done for years. I had been so na?ve….

But with each tiring day that passed, the thoughts of the past came less and less, and my karmic rewards where coming to me in the best way possible. Max’s training was progressing leaps and bounds, and I couldn’t stop the feeling of hope beginning to burn brighter in my chest. It came in throbbing waves of warmth through my body with each step Max let me closer, and the simple smell of her beside me almost made me weep in joy. Such a simple thing, and yet I had missed it for so long that it had now become an irreplaceable need in me.

But even with that joy and hope, there was a single thing that could deflate my heart in a single glance. A reaction from one man.

Jax.

He hadn’t said a word to me beyond Max’s training and my household chores. He brought me groceries on Mondays, and it just made it harder when I saw he remembered all my favorite things.

According to Jax, my truck was still in the shop, so I had to be content to stay here and let him see to my every need like some kept woman. The idea made me restless and anxious, but there was little I could do when it’d be an hour walk into town from the ranch.

I sighed as I sat tucked into the soft, well-worn arm chair in the family room retying my Honda knot. My aching leg rested out on the matching ottoman, adorned with a ruffled skirt, as I waited for Jax to arrive, so training could start.

He always came at midday when the sun was at his hottest and when Max would be lethargic, meaning she was lethargic and agreeable. Our sessions never lasted more than an hour since he didn’t want any of us with heat stroke or dehydration.

As I worked the lasso, untying the rope after another failed attempt, the distant drum of a motorcycle sounded, growing louder and louder until the man of the hour pulled to a stop on the drive.

I slipped on my boots, ignoring the dull ache of my leg and walked out onto the porch. Sunlight was hot against my skin and bright in my eyes as I looked down the steps to see a dark head turning to face me. He had his jeans, shirt, and of course his leather cut, and the way he leaned back on his bike to look at me had the shirt riding up the few inches to reveal a smooth, hard stomach and a trail of dark curls leading under his jeans. I tried my best not to follow it, but the girl who had crushed on Jackson for so many years felt no different when she saw his darker counterpart. Even if he didn’t share the affection.

“On time as usual,” I commented, my boots creaking against the steps, my bad leg heavier than the other. I’d slipped a pain pill as I waited for Jax and praised myself for having the foresight to refill the bottle from the pharmacy outside of town my second night after my work at the bar. It was a twenty-four hour one and I would soon have to make a trip out there somehow. Whether by taxi, or hopefully my truck if it was fixed in time, before I hit the bottom of the bottle.

Jax grunted, rising from his seat and removing his Stetson from the saddle bag, moving the black helmet aside.

“Why do you have a bike helmet but don’t wear it?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

“It’s for bitches to wear,” he replied, fitting his hat on his head as if he hadn’t called me a bitch.

“Excuse me?”

Sensing the annoyance in my tone, I saw the flicker of surprise on his face and then understanding. “Ah, I meant women. I often end up giving them a lift back from the bar when they’re too shit-faced to walk home.”

“So you put them on the back on your bike, take them to your club, and fuck them?”

“I never said that,” Jax replied, his dark, neat eyebrows wrinkling, the sun casting a shadow over his eyes. “But if they’re willing, why the hell shouldn’t I?”

I gagged. “I didn’t need to know.”

“You asked.” Jax turned on his heels and moved over to the pasture where I let Max out that morning.

It was the only thing I could do without supervision. I was back to being a twelve-year-old again, forced to sneak in the stallion’s pen because I was barred from going near it, unlike Jackson. He was allowed to go in with them when he was that age. It was something that I didn’t think about on regular occasions and wasn’t holding a grudge over whatsoever.

Despite not being allowed in the pen with Max on my own, it wasn’t all bad. Since she let me get closer to her now, I was able to get into her pen or stall enough to open the door without spooking her.

She never moved toward me or walked anywhere when I was with her, but she didn’t seem to mind when I walked near her. She just waited until I was gone before she moved.

Jax, on the other hand had managed to get her used to having a rope around her neck, and although he didn’t pet her, she didn’t mind brushing up against him when he was near.

Something that made me insane with jealously.

“Whatever,” I grumbled to him, stomping after him and waiting until he’d gracefully leapt up onto the top bar of the fence while I went around and through the gate instead of painstakingly climbing up over it with my leg and having him frown at me the entire time.

I used to launch myself up and over them back in the day and I could see the question in his eyes every time I did something with less vigor than in my teen years. I hoped he just blamed it on my age.

“You’ll need this,” Jax called out to me. He held out an outstretched rope with a Honda Knot tied with perfection on one end.

I stared at it. I knew exactly what it meant as he handed it to me. Knew there were a few other things that could be done with a rope and all but one of those Jax wouldn’t want to be doing with me.

“I get to try?” I whispered, taking the rope from his hands. The coarse feeling of it was like home and heaven all in one, light as a wisp in my hands.

“I think it’s time,” Jax replied, the confidence in his voice rippling through the air and into me. Somehow, the surety he possessed made me feel praised.

I swallowed. “Okay.”

Turning so the sun was at my back, the warmth pushed me forward, my skin sticking to the long sleeves of my shirt. I was breathing harder the closer I grew to her, trying my best not to show my nerves and spook her.

Max raised her head, her deep brown eyes lit like a fire under the sun as she watched me get closer. Her ears stayed forefront, but she didn’t shy away from my approach.

Inch by inch disappeared, and a calmness descended upon me. I steered clear of direct eye contact but kept my gaze steady. My heart rate calmed as I approached her, the warmth of her breath pushing back the tendrils of my hair that fell over my face.

She was so close, like wrapping me in her body’s warm embrace.

This was my beautiful, powerful girl who had been at my side for over ten years. The girl I owed my life and my heart to. She deserved everything in this world, because no matter how stubborn she was, or how much attitude she threw at me, she was more valuable than anything else on this planet.

My hand reached up, the rope loose in my hands as I moved. Calling forth the same natural movement I had developed over our years together, the calmness we used to share, I lifted the lasso over her ears and let it slip over her short black mane.

Her breathing hitched, and her body went as still as stone.

Maybe it was too soon. Maybe it—

She snorted. A playful, satisfied huff into my face.

“Maxi,” I whispered as the widest, almost painful smile, lit up on my face.

I didn’t think. My hand reached up to her face, palm flat and firm. I was aware of Jax’s voice somewhere in the distance, but I couldn’t stop. The soft, hot, and sweat-damp fur pressed against my palm as my hand rested between the bridge of her eyes.

Max’s breathing stilled again, just for a moment. It was enough. I broke out of my trance and Jax’s crystal voice cut through the air.

“Ronnie!” he snapped, and I was aware he had jumped down from his perch, a second lasso in a firm grip between both of his hands. “Don’t push it.”

I looked to Max, feeling the cool breeze over my damp palm from where her head pulled away from me to look to Jax. Both of us could feel the tension rippling in the air, but he didn’t look at Max, he kept his eyes on me.

“Ronnie,” he said, with a little more persistence. I understood.

Little steps.

I slid my fingers up the slack rope, my index hooking over the knot and tugging it down the rope. Max stood still as the lasso loosened around her neck until it fell from her shoulders and to the dirt.

I wrapped it back up around my arm and tucked it over my shoulder. Looking once more at Max before stepping away. She watched me, eyes following me as I made my way back over to Jax.

When I met up with Jax at the fence, without thinking about it, I bounced on my feet and pushed myself up over the fence, twisting my body and dropping down the other side. The impact on my leg was small, but I wasn’t even thinking about it as Jax dropped down next to me wide-eyed.

And then, it was like a bubble popped. My hand began to tingle with the feeling of Max that had been left like a wax impression on my skin, and I realized what I had just done.

I broke.

Tears and sobs came out in one big burst, and I threw myself at Jax, my arms going around his wide sides as I felt the single ray of light and hope break through the dreary darkness I had been shrouded in for the last twelve months.

I didn’t care that he tensed up like stone. Or that his arms didn’t come around me. Or the way he stopped breathing all together. All I could think about was Max.

“I touched her,” I sobbed. “I finally touched her.”

Because it was that moment that I let myself at long last believe the one thing I had been begging God for the last year. “She’s here. She gets to stay,” I cried. “I don’t have to put her down.”

And that’s when I felt the weight on my back and neck. Jax’s arms wound around me, his hand pressing against the nape of my neck, plastering me to his chest as he dropped his head into my hair, and through the emotion overwhelming me, I could do nothing but cling back to him, and realize that this is what I had needed in my life.

I needed Jax.