Page 12

Chapter 12

April

Why does it bug me that he’s sleeping on the floor of his own house? He’s been nothing but kind to me, saving me, feeding me, even cutting my hair.

And now he’s lying with the dog.

Do I want him up here with me?

Not really, I barely know him. But, well, fuck.

It doesn’t stop me from feeling shitty.

With a full belly, and the warm bed, it’s hard to fight the sleep tugging at me.

Except every time he gets up to check the fire, it jolts me out of whatever haze was trying to pull me under.

I’m both grateful to be away from the brothers, yet also terrified that they’re coming back for me.

“Sorry, had to put another log on,” Ford grumbles when he catches me watching him before he settles onto the floor.

“Do you ever get used to it?” The only light is the faint flicker of flames through the clouded glass of the stove.

“Used to what?” His deep voice fills the night even if I can’t see him from where I’m at.

“Being alone. I always preferred it. But right now, it scares the shit out of me,” I whisper to the ceiling.

He takes so long to answer, I start to wonder if he’s gone to sleep.

“No.” His word hangs in the air.

There’s a sense of finality with it.

Shifting to my side, I curl up near the edge of the mattress so I can catch a glimpse of him. “Why are you all by yourself? I mean, you seem nice enough. You have a job, a dog, and—” I don’t want to say he’s good looking. That might make it weird. “—a horse. I bet you’re a catch.”

His next pause is even longer.

Maybe I should just let him rest?

“Why did you prefer being by yourself?” he asks quietly.

“Oh gosh.” I roll flat to watch the firelight tickle the rafters. “Are you sure you want me to trauma dump? It sounds fucking petty now compared to…” My hand escapes from the blanket to wave in an idle circle he probably can’t see. Is that my new criteria? Will I forever compare everything to the last few days of being trapped with the monsters?

“Dump away. I have no one to tell.” His voice is clearer, like he’s facing up too.

“My dad is an asshole. A lawyer, go figure so he knows how to argue. My mom got drunk constantly to even be able to be in the same room as him. Made me spend a lot of time in my room to avoid them.” I hated the screaming the most.

They’d both dissolve to calling names and throwing things against the walls before Mom had enough and left.

“You said you’re in college. I bet you’ve got friends there.” His tone is soothing.

Is he trying to placate me? Or is he really interested?

I don’t know, but I’m vested now.

“Most of the girls in the ag programs act like they have a chip on their shoulders, like they have something to prove. And the guys in college are, well, college guys.” I really don’t know how to describe it any better.

Ford laughs softly. “Yea, we always get a handful of those boys wanting to run cows when school gets out in the spring. It doesn’t take long before they learn that there aren't any girls out on the range, and there’s only one bar between here and Campton.”

“I bet it’s easy to disappear out there though.” My thumb works over the scab on my wrist from the cuffs. “I wish I could make those two assholes vanish. Maybe it’d make it hurt less.”

Why is it easier to be vulnerable in the dark, where I can’t see his reaction?

He takes a long inhale, then lets it out slowly. “I’ll do everything in my power to make those fuckers pay, April. But I can tell you from experience, it doesn’t make the pain go away.”

It’s bittersweet knowing he’s saying the truth.

Wait.

“What do you mean? What happened?” I wonder what he had to seek revenge for?

I can hear his teeth grit.

“Might be a story best saved for another day. Get some sleep, April. Let me keep you safe so you can rest.” He sounds tired.

Exhausted.

He didn’t a moment ago.

Damn.

He sniffles hard and turns towards the fire making Roscoe sigh and shift against him.

I can just see his hand with the jack-o-lantern tattoo flatten on the wood floor, then tighten into a fist before he wipes at his cheek.

The flames reflect off his eyes as he stares at the stove.

Whatever he’s not telling me must be a doozy.

Is it about a girl? Did he get his heart broken?

Funny, I’m almost more interested in hearing about his pain than wanting to dwell on my own.

Should I push him?

I better not, I’m still a stranger.

But what could be so bad that the big tough ol’ cowboy won’t share?

“That’s right, there were two,” Ford says in the distance, rousing me from a thankfully dreamless night.

His gray eyes meet mine as he nods against the phone.

“Yep, I think they’re down at least one sled. No, I’m not sure if they have more or a way to get here.” He cups his hand over the receiver.

“Mornin’, frosty. Do you remember if there was a car or any other vehicle up there?” His lips thin and he tilts his head. “Wade’s trying to send a team up to look and wanted to know if there’s a chance they could have gotten away.”

Blinking away the sleep, my mind races to the filthy cabin I escaped from.

Fuck, I don’t want to think about it. But I want those assholes to get caught.

Did they have anything else?

Everything was a blur when I was rushing to leave.

I pick at the skin on the edge of my thumb. Why can’t I remember?

Tentatively, I shake my head.

“She doesn’t think there’s another rig.” His brow furrows when he looks at me, then he turns away. “She’s done answered that. There’ll be time later for that shit,” he growls, then hangs up.

When he glances back, one corner of his lips turn up. “Sorry. Crappy way to wake up. I got coffee made.”

“Oh my god, I haven’t had any in forever.” I push out of the warm covers into the chill of the room. “Ford, did you sleep okay?” My feet are freezing on the bare wood, and I find myself hopping back onto the mattress.

“Yup.” He pulls the kettle off the stove and pours it into the top of his french press.

I didn’t expect that. “Fancy.” But holy shit does it taste good.

“I ain’t picky about most stuff, except coffee.” He smiles over the rim of his cup, the little crow’s feet on the corners of his pale gray eyes deepen.

His dark hair covers them when he looks down, lowering his mug.

“Lucky me.” I take another long swallow, letting the cozy heat move into me one sip at a time.

“How’s that?” He tilts his head watching me, his jaw clenches where the silver whiskers sit near his ear.

It’s harder not to appreciate him as a whole. “Anyone else wouldn’t have been so nice to me.”

“Hmm. Well, anyone else is a fool.” He leans forward, topping off my almost empty drink.

His words hit deeper than I expected, making me stare down at my fresh cup intently.

“The wind’s died down some. I’m gonna go get wood and check on the horse.”

“What can I do to help?” I feel like a leech just sitting here.

He shakes his head and pulls his heavy Carhartt over his flannel. “Stay here and rest. I got it.”

I’m not sure why that rubs me the wrong way.

“I don’t want to just sit, Ford. All I do is think. Can I come with you to the barn? I love horses.” I jump up and pull my sneakers on. “Please?”

His lips purse. “Yea, sure. I just figured…” He trails off, but reaches for an extra jacket hanging on the wall.

I throw a glare at him. “I’m not broken. I just have a sore ass.” Flipping the hood of the sweatshirt over my head, I sling the giant coat over my shoulders. “I’ll be fine.”

I’ll be damned if I let those assholes win. That’s what they wanted, to break me.

Well, fuck them. I survived them. One day I’ll make sure they pay for what they did to me.

As long as I don’t think about my time there, I’ll be okay.

I have to be. I’ve seen what happened to one of my classmates after she was drugged and used.

She let it eat at her for months until she dropped out of school.

I can’t let that be me. I won’t.

Ford cocks one eyebrow and squints, then opens the door.

Roscoe darts between us, leaping into the heavy snow drift to push a new path through.

Dang, I may have overestimated my energy levels. This stuff is over my knees and hard to walk in.

“Here, I’ll break the trail.” Ford steps past me to get in front with two empty water jugs, and shuffles his feet ahead of me.

It pushes enough out of the way I can follow, but I feel my toes getting cold already.

Me and my mouth.

The wide opening to the barn leaves a taper of a bank almost to the stall.

A long brown nose with a white blaze pokes over the edge of the railing.

“April, meet Pepper. She’s a bitch, so don’t take offense if she doesn’t want pet.” Ford hauls a bucket to a spigot in the corner and starts working the lever.

“Hi, pretty girl.” I remember my riding lessons from when I was a kid, holding my palm up so she can smell it.

Her ears perk forward as the soft hairs on her lips brush over my skin.

“Can I?” Raising my hand, I flatten it against the bridge and follow the hollow down her jaw to her cheek.

She juts her neck closer, turning to expose more of her throat for me to scratch.

“Traitor,” Ford grumbles, dumping the bucket into her trough. “Guess it makes sense, her first owner was a woman.”

Pepper raises her head, leaning hard into me.

“How long have you had her?” A giggle escapes me when Pepper’s lip curls towards the roof and she bobs her head.

He makes another trip without answering, then pauses next to me. “It’s been five years this past Halloween.” He reaches up to pat his horse, but she flattens her ears and moves away. “I think she still blames me,” he whispers before turning and picking up one of the empty jugs.

“For what?” My idle scratching slows so I can turn and look at him.

He stays focused on the pump, raising and lowering the level with practiced ease.

It isn’t until he’s walking back towards the snowy path that he pauses, raising his chin to the snowy sky, and closes his eyes. “For letting Sarah die.”