Page 26 of Revelry (Cowgirls Do It Better #2)
“Me and Kat like to come here sometimes,” she began.
“When we were teenagers, we’d ride the horses here to hide out from some pending punishment.
Charlie used to hunt us down though and drag us back and make us work the pastures until well into the night.
He’d tell us horror stories of man-eating wolves or bears and scare us something rotten, so we’d come running in begging and apologizing, swearing we’d never be bad again,” she chuckled to herself.
“That man was diabolical. He knew exactly how to get under your skin but the second you apologized, all was forgiven. He was a great father figure to me.”
I looked down at her, her eyes closed and expression serene, but the pinch of her lips told me she wasn’t as relaxed as she looked.
“What happened to your father?” I asked, inching closer to her. She peeked one violet eye open at me before closing it.
“Don’t know. He went to prison and got released years ago.
Out on good behavior,” she scoffed. “I worried he would come looking for Mom or me but he never did. He stayed away.” I could feel the tension drifting off her in waves and I leaned over, wrapping an arm around her bent knees and stroked her calf to soothe her.
I didn’t have a lot of experience comforting someone, but I hated seeing her like this.
“I was so scared to come home and face Mom after what Gary did to me. I hid from everyone. I hid from Kat, I missed Charlie’s funeral and for that I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Why did you hide?” I asked softly.
“Because I was embarrassed and scared. I knew better. I should’ve known better, but I didn’t. I fell for his act and his sorrys, even though I knew better. I’m so mad at myself for it.” She threw an arm over her eyes.
“Hey, no, don’t do that. People are manipulative. You’re someone who cares and has a lot of empathy and he used that against you. Don’t blame yourself for the actions of someone else.”
She lowered her arm and glanced up at me, covering my hand with hers and stroking the back of it. “Is that what you did?”
“You mean for my mom?”
She nodded and I looked away. “I guess.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
I squeezed her knee tighter as the memories flooded me and her soft strokes on my hand increased.
“I left for college. Some days she was supportive, usually when she was on her pills. But sometimes she’d forget to take them or ran out and those days she wasn’t supportive.
She was clingy and desperate.” I paused.
I’d never spoken to anyone about this before, not even Neil.
He knew I wouldn’t take medication for my OCD because of my mom.
We’d discussed the incident in some sessions but not in great detail.
I’d spoken in facts, not in feelings or on reflection.
“It’s okay,” Gertrude whispered.
“I promised her that I would come home that first weekend and that kept her calm. Well, as calm as she could be. But then I made friends, for the first time in…years. And they wanted to party and hang out and I wanted that too. God, I just wanted to have fun, I was a kid!” I yelled, the emotions rushing me.
“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Gertrude soothed.
“Ma didn’t take it well. I said I’d come home the following weekend and she said she didn’t know what she would do if I didn’t come home immediately.
But I didn’t want to be manipulated anymore so I refused to back down and she froze me out.
She ignored my calls and messages and when I came home the following weekend, I walked into the house and found her…
” I couldn’t finish, couldn’t get the words out and wiped a hand over my mouth.
Gertrude sat up and wrapped her arms around me. “I’m so sorry Tate, that’s awful. No son, no one should ever have to go through that.”
“She took a bunch of her pills, overdosing. She blamed me in her note. And for years I lived with that guilt and shame. I still do to an extent.”
Gertrude cupped my jaw and swiped a thumb across my cheek and only then did I realize a tear had slipped out.
She squeezed my cheeks, drawing my attention.
“This was not your fault Tate, no matter what she said. She wasn’t well, wasn’t in her right mind and if she was, she never would have blamed you. ”
I nodded, ducking my head out of her grip because her comfort was so warm and right, so soothing and I wanted to bathe in it.
“I don’t get close to people.” I blurted out. “After what my dad did and then my mom, I don’t trust people and I don’t get close to them. I don’t want friends, and I don’t want to socialize.” I felt like I needed to explain to her and justify why I was the way I was.
“You don’t want a family?”
I shook my head. “I could never have children while I’m like this. I don’t want them, don’t want anyone relying on me the way my mom did. I don’t even think I would know how to be a good father, I never had that example.” Her face seemed to fall slightly before she smoothed her expression.
“No one should be that isolated, Tate. You don’t deserve it. You’re a good man and I’m sorry I said you had a stick up your ass. If you did have one, well, it’s understandable after everything you’ve been through. I shouldn’t be forcing you to remove it.”
I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing. Trust Gertrude to find the silliness in such a dire conversation and to make me laugh.
“You’re pretty when you laugh,” she said quietly and that had my laughter subsiding to a low chuckle, my stare roving her face.
Her eyes were wide with sincerity and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
Her cheeks were flushed from the cool air, the tip of her nose was growing red.
She blinked like she realized what she said.
“I mean pretty in the most complimentary way.”
I smiled again. “Thank you.”
There was an uneasiness and tension in the air that hadn’t been there a few moments ago. Gertrude was the one who broke eye contact by rummaging in her pack.
Although there was no one else around, I could feel the prickle of someone’s eyes on us and ran my gaze along the treeline and across the hot spring, looking for anyone around but finding no one.
“So I made some sandwiches for us. I got chicken salad or a BLT? There’s some chips and fruit in here too.
” She held out two sandwiches sealed in Tupperware and once again she’d surprised me.
I hadn’t even thought about food and she’d packed a little winter picnic?
I took the BLT from her and she winked at me.
“Perfect.” Then she unwrapped her chicken salad and took a big bite.
We ate in silence, me still looking for whoever was watching us and trying to put it out of my mind. Once we’d finished, I turned to Gertrude. “Now what?”
She raised a brow. “You want more fun?”
“You’re the keeper of the Fagenda.”
She groaned. “It sounds like vagina, we gotta stop saying it.”
“I kinda like it. Fagennnnnnnda,” I teased, and she pushed me away, giggling.
“I have an idea,” she said, looking out towards the spring. “You game?”
I followed her stare before my eyes bugged out of their sockets. “Swimming? No.”
She gripped my hand. “Yes!”
“No. Not just no, but hell no, Gertrude!”
She rolled her eyes, sighing. “ Gertie. ” She got to her feet and then began pulling her sweatshirt over her head. I was blinded by her bright pink sports bra and refused to acknowledge the hard nipples I could see.
God, I should not be getting turned on by this.
“Gertrude!” I spluttered. “Stop stripping right now!”
She chuckled. “Man, if I had a dollar for every time…”
My mouth gaped. “Are you serious?”
“You should see your face,” she slapped her thigh before kicking off her boots and dragging her Lycra pants down her thighs. It took every ounce of willpower not to stare at her panties.
“You’re crazy, it’s December and freezing out!” I jumped to my feet and towered over her.
“It’s a hot spring? It’ll be warm and great for stimulating the blood.”
“My blood doesn’t need help stimulating,” I growled as she bent over, showing me that perfect heart-shaped ass. I actually reached for it before I shoved my hands into my pockets.
“The cool air and the warm water, come on! Great for mental health, alertness, rejuvenating, invigorating. All the ‘ating’ words!”
She eventually stood before me in her sports bra and panties. Then she turned and leapt off the rock face into the bubbling water.