Page 11

Chapter 11

Ford

“I ain’t much of a hair stylist.” I stand back and appraise my hack job.

It looks fucking awful, and I feel shitty I can’t do better.

“Well, you’re the only one who has to look at it.” She turns to smile over her shoulder, but the humor doesn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you.

Her fingers run through the short blond strands. “I don’t feel any more knots. That’s all I needed. Feels so much better already.” She scoots the stool out of the way. “Do you have a broom?”

I wave her away. “I got it. I saw where it all went. One of the benefits of a tiny ass cabin is that there’s very little floor to sweep.”

“Okay, then next question.” April gathers up her soiled clothes with a grimace. “Can I burn these? I never want to see them again.”

All I do is nod towards the stove. Putting any acknowledgement of the stains they carry feels like it gives them meaning.

With a squeak, the door to the potbelly opens and she stuffs them in. When she stands, she stares at the small window flickering with flames.

“It’s not as bad as you think,” she whispers after a moment. “It was that time of the month. Not like they cared enough to give me a tampon.” Her brown eyes dart up, reflecting the shimmering light of the fire.

Sarah did look worse, and she definitely wasn’t on her period to account for all of the blood…

I’m an idiot, standing with a broom in my hand, hopelessly lost for words.

“Are you hungry?” I blurt without thinking.

Jesus, can I get any more crass?

April’s mouth thins and moves to the side so she can chew on the inside of her cheek. Tilting her chin, she takes a long inhale. “Yea, I guess the stew is wearing off.”

My limbs tingle with antsy energy. Every time she talks about what happened, I get a flash of Sarah. What would I have done if she had survived?

Would I still feel awkward and useless?

Yep. Because I know it’d have been my fault.

I dump the dustpan and put it away, then grab my coat.

“You keep the food outside?” Her face scrunches glancing at the window.

The wind is still howling, and snow is accumulating against the bottom panes.

“No, but the firewood is.” I put my palm on the handle, then click my tongue to Roscoe.

He jumps up and races out the door as soon as I open it.

God damn, the cold hits me like a mallet to the chest.

Three trips back and forth from the pile drags in enough of the blistering chill to drop the temperature inside a solid twenty degrees.

I don’t blame her for crawling under the blanket while I’m going in and out.

She has the thick comforter pulled up to her chin by the time I drop the last load into the box.

“I’m sorry I’m not much help. I didn’t want to start digging through your stuff.” Her eyes follow me as I stomp the caked snow from my boots and hang up my coat.

“I don’t care if you do. None of it’s important.” I toss a log in the fire and check the water.

It’s just about boiling.

“Alright, you gotta hop up though.” I gesture at the bed. “Most of the grub is stored under there.”

“Oh, shit.” She tosses the covers back and scrambles out of the way.

Lifting the mattress reveals the storage area full of canned goods and totes, all packed with MRE’s and snacks.

Along with a couple of bottles of whiskey.

Priorities.

Popping the top on one of the crates, I grab a hold of two different pouches. “Okay, looks like spaghetti with meat sauce, or chicken parmesan.”

“I love chicken parm. There’s this place in Missoula called Chino’s. It’s the absolute best.” She takes the packet when I hand it to her, then flips it around to read the back.

My stomach rolls. I’m suddenly not hungry at all.

That was Sarah’s favorite restaurant.

I feel like I’ve been sucker punched.

April squints then sighs. “I usually have glasses to read. I’ve never had it from a bag. What am I supposed to do?”

“Well, I kinda do it redneck style.” I need to stop thinking about Sarah.

But I can’t.

I run through the steps to add the water to the pouch, then toss some instant noodles into a bowl.

When I slide the heated entree over the ramen, she smiles at me like she just won the lottery.

“That looks amazing! I might just stock up on instant food.” Giggling, she takes her dish and sits cross-legged on the bed.

“I’d say you’re easily impressed, frosty. It isn’t anything like Chino’s.” I twirl some spaghetti onto my plastic fork and take a bite.

Definitely not as delicious.

She wipes the corner of her mouth with her finger, then licks the sauce from the tip. “I think this last week has taught me how to appreciate the little things more.” She gestures with her bowl. “This tastes like heaven.” Her hand waves in a broad sweep of the room. “And this is paradise.”

That makes me chuckle. This is a hellhole, not salvation.

“By those standards, that makes me a decent guy.” Balling up my garbage, I hold my palm out for hers, careful not to touch her, then toss them into a bag in the corner.

Her mouth twists again, and she looks up at me as if for the first time. “Yea, it does.”

“Huh,” I scoff. “Well, you did say you usually need glasses.”

“Funny.” Her lips turn up in a wry smile. “Seriously though, I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

“That doesn't make me a saint,” I grumble. She has no idea what a shitty human I really am. “I’m gonna go check on the horse before it’s too dark.” I grab two empty water jugs to take with me.

“There’s an extra toothbrush in the cabinet next to the tub.”

Biting wind breaks me from the memories of Sarah.

April being here has made the grief almost overwhelming again.

I’m not worth the praise she seems to want to offer.

Pepper trots inside through the back door from her corral, pinning her ears when she sees me and nodding her head.

“Yea, yea, I know.” I top off her alfalfa and give her a scoop of grain. She needs the calories to stay warm in this storm.

Her lip curls up at me, like she’s flipping me off before she dives into her tray.

I take the empty bucket to the corner of the barn where the spigot is to the well, and pump it until there’s enough water to top off her trough, and to fill the containers I brought from the cabin.

One of them will top off the reservoir above the tub.

Seeing the bruises on April’s back when I was rinsing her off brought a hollow, useless anger into me.

No one should be treated like that.

It makes me want to wrap her like a fragile vase and protect her.

But that fire in her eyes tells me she’d fight to bust out. I bet she was a real pistol before all of this.

I hope she regains that.

“Be good, girl,” I call to Pepper as I leave.

She stomps her rear foot in reply.

I need to get the saddle blanket before I leave. “Come on, Roscoe.” I click my tongue, beckoning him to follow me back to the warmth of the cabin.

Fuck, it’s cold. The icy gale sucks the heat right out of me before I even make it to the door.

April watches me silently as I drop my stuff and shed my coat.

“How many horses do you have?” she asks quietly.

“Just the one here. There’s two back at the ranch, but they’re both only green broke and too young. Maybe by next year they’ll be old enough for this trip.” I’m not entirely sure if I’ll ever be coming back.

Hell, I might not ever make it home. I’m starting to find peace with that idea.

All of this is just too damn hard to stomach some days.

“Do you miss it? The ranch, I mean?” Her gaze bores into me. “Do you have someone back there? You get this faraway look sometimes…” She trails off.

I shake my head. “Nope. No one to miss.”

Except Sarah. Every fucking day.

“I gotcha.” Her lips purse. “Messed something up? Is that why you’re hiding up here?”

My instinct is to yell at her to mind her own business.

I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. “You could say something like that.”

Hopefully my gruff reply stops this line of questioning.

After putting another log on the fire, I spread out the horse blanket on the floor in front of the bed.

When I sit, and pull my heavy coat over my chest, April pokes her head off the side of the mattress. Her short cropped blond hair makes a spiky halo around her face.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed.”

A crease forms in her forehead. “Why are you on the floor?”

I grit my teeth. I don’t want to spell this out for her. “Because you can have the bed.”

“Ford, it’s your place. I can sleep there if you need space.” Her lower lip sticks out, still bearing the scab of a wound she got earlier this week.

“I’ll be fine. You need the rest more than I do. Besides, the fire goes out if I don’t keep it fed.” It was almost freezing in here this morning because I stayed huddled up next to her to keep her warm.

I hate to admit I took an ounce of guilty pleasure in having someone to hold again. Even if she was so damn cold it made my nuts shrivel. It was fucking wrong and I don’t want to do that again.

Her nose wrinkles. “I won’t argue. It’s way more comfortable up here than down there.”

I kick off my boots and prop them next to the stove, then pull my jacket higher.

Roscoe hops up and slides to his belly next to my legs.

“See? I’ve got a buddy heater.” I reach down and scratch between his ears, then lean against my elbow.

Just like when I’m out on range in the summer. He’s there to keep an eye on me.

Her wrist brushes the denim on my knee and makes me jerk when she pats Roscoe on the head. “He’s a good boy.”

It’s irritating that her touch made my heart beat faster.