Page 9

Chapter 9

Ford

Pepper’s fine.

I don’t have to do a damn thing. Her water and feeder are both full.

So why am I standing out here in the fucking cold, squeezing the fence rail so hard my knuckles are white?

I know the answer, but I hate myself for it.

That girl in there, she’s broken like Sarah.

I never had the chance to save her, even though I’d have given my own life to do it.

But it was my fault.

This is karma coming back to rub my piss poor decisions into my face.

Flaunting my mistakes and reminding me that I’m a shit human for the choices I made.

I can’t do this.

Everything I’ve struggled to tamp down is fighting to come out.

My fist finds the wall.

Make the pain go away!

This isn’t fucking fair!

No one should have to live through this twice. It hurts too damn bad.

I failed Sarah.

I miss her.

It’s like I’m suffocating all over again without her. My throat burns from screaming, my hands are split and bleeding from punching the wall, yet none of it soothes the rending agony that surges through me.

All I can see is Sarah.

Broken in a pool of her own blood, lying behind a dumpster like a piece of trash. Her clothes ripped, her beautiful face swollen and purple as she took her last gurgling breath.

They did this.

I did it. I pushed her to be there.

And I’ve failed on finding all of the motherfuckers who did it.

I’m worthless.

Maybe I’ll get this girl to safety, and then just disappear up into these hills.

It’s all I’m good for.

Roscoe moves close enough to touch my boot with his paw, then whines.

“Fine. I’ll get her somewhere safe.” I scratch his ear with my stiff fingers. “And I’ll send you back to the ranch with her. How’s that sound?”

I could let Pepper out with the cows. She’s been on range before. She’ll be fine until spring when Mason comes out with the crew to round them up.

Yea.

It’s a good plan.

I’ll save enough whiskey that I can just fall asleep in a snowbank during one of these cold snaps.

Everyone will expect it. Sometimes, I think Mason is surprised to see me after I go through a rough patch. I’ve somehow survived every one of them.

But this. It’s like someone is beating me back down with a baseball bat.

The tears freeze to my face, and feel like needles when I brush them away.

I can’t do this anymore.

I’m ready for the pain to stop.

When I stand, I brush off my jeans and right my hat.

Roscoe dances near the door, glancing at me over his shoulder.

“Yea, I know. I’m cold as fuck too.” The biting wind eats into me when I step back outside.

The steps I took through the deep snow are already full making it difficult to step through the deepening drifts.

She won’t be able to leave in this.

I have to keep my shit together for just a few more days.

Panic wars with me when I reach for the handle.

She might be better off without me. She has a phone. The GPS on it will get a rescue team to her.

There’s food and water.

But I don’t know if she’s strong enough to haul the wood.

I guess I’ll keep the fire going.

She’ll need me for that.

Pushing into the warm cabin, I’m glad to see she’s sleeping.

There’s a little color in her cheeks, but her lips look cracked and dry.

I toss a log into the stove, and pour some water into the pot that lives on top to start heating up.

Once she’s feeling better, she might want to clean up.

In the meantime, I’ll get some stew cooking. Who knows when she ate last.

When the sat phone rings, it startles me.

She doesn’t even flinch.

Is she okay? Maybe she shouldn’t be passed out?

“Yea?” I bark into the receiver.

“Ford?” Wade’s voice cuts through the static.

“Yea. Who else?” I glance down at her tangled blond hair poking out of the covers.

“I figured it’d be you. Dispatch got a call from this number from a girl named April. Said she had been taken but she was safe. Is that who’s with you?” He doesn’t have the same teasing lilt like he did last time.

“I don’t know her name. She’s out cold. Are you coming to get her?” Maybe he can wave his magic sheriff wand and get her out of her early.

“Fuck no. It’s storming like hell down here, I can’t imagine what it’s doing up there in the boonies.” He sighs into the speaker. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with this. We’ll get up there as soon as we can. At least I know she’s safe. When she’s ready to give me some more details, give me a call.”

“Will do.” I click it off without saying goodbye.

I’ve known Wade way too long for formalities.

April . It’s a name for someone young and full of life.

Not someone who’s been treated like this.

The soup is starting to scald in the pan, and she still hasn’t woken up.

I think she might be dehydrated.

Grabbing a glass, I fill it partway and pull up the single small chair next to the bed.

“Hey, April? Can you hear me?” I try to be loud enough to rouse her, but not so much that it startles her.

“Hmm?” She doesn’t open her eyes.

“April? That’s your name? I have some water if you’re thirsty.” I hold up the cup like it’s a peace offering in front of me.

The slit of her brown irises appear, then she drops her lids like they’re too heavy to keep open.

“Here, I think you need to drink some water.” I reach out and lightly touch her shoulder.

She jerks, suddenly wide awake and backs away.

“What?” Her lower lip quivers until the wild look fades from her features. Her hand appears, covering her forehead for a moment before she drops it to her lap. “I’m sorry. Thank you.”

Her fingers tremble when she reaches out, but she’s able to take a small sip before collapsing back into the pillow.

“Wade called.” I lean away from her and grab the phone, tossing it onto the quilt beside her. “He said when you’re able to call him back.”

“Who?” She brings the cup to her lips again, this time drinking most of it in one frantic binge.

“Easy, that’ll make your stomach buck if you drink too fast. Wade is the sheriff.” I need to be doing something, so I fetch down a bowl and scoop some of the thick beef and vegetables into it.

“Oh. Did he say when I can leave?” She fiddles with the empty glass while watching me.

Her stare makes me shift uncomfortably.

I don’t know how to even talk to her. How can she be asking me questions after what happened?

It’s all I can think about.

And where the assholes are so I can take them out before I go.

All I can do is shake my head. “As soon as the storm passes is the soonest.”

“So, can I ask you a favor? Since we slept together and all?” She gives me a lopsided smile and squints up at me.

There’s no room for humor, her reaction is confusing.

“Um, sure. I have some food ready.” I drop a spoon into the steaming bowl, then hold it out.

My other palm flattens and I gesture for her empty cup.

“Can I stay here until it passes? I don’t have anywhere else to go.” Her hands frame the dish and she purses her mouth, letting a slow exhale work across the bubbling meal.

“You’re joking. Yea. Of course. The hell you think I’m gonna do? Kick you out to stay with the horse?” I can feel my forehead wrinkle in confusion as I look at her. “You’re safe here, for as long as you need.”

“I appreciate it. I’m just glad those fucking assholes won’t be able to travel in it either.” Both of her eyes squeeze shut as she takes a deep breath.

I fill her water and flip the chair around to straddle it after I hand her the glass.

Then I ask questions I hate. I don’t want her to have to relive any memories, but I need to know how much of a threat they are. “How many? Any chance they tracked you?”

She waves her hand in front of her open full mouth and holds up two fingers.

After a quick drink, she pants. “Crap, that was hot. No, I didn’t see a car. I took both sets of keys to the snow machines.”

“Good girl, that was smart.” I don’t have to worry about unexpected visitors for a little while. If it was just me, I’d say “bring it on”, but with her here, she’d be in danger again.

She raises one eyebrow, then takes another bite. “What are you doing out here, anyways? Just hanging?” Her eyes wander the small cabin. “It’s cozy.”

“I’m the ranch boss for the Black Gulch. Everyone else has a family, so I volunteered to stay up here to watch the winter pastures. We’ve been having issues with people messing with the herds, so I’m trying to keep an eye on things.” Not that it did much good. Still lost two.

She locks me with her walnut colored gaze, then looks down at her bowl to scrape the last bite. “I bet you were enjoying your alone time before I showed up.” She empties her cup, then smacks her lips. “That was delicious.”

I shrug as she hands over her dishes. “It’s nice to have a little company. Roscoe gets tired of listening to me all the time.” I try to give her a smile, but a flash of Sarah’s face cuts through my thoughts, souring my expression.

Standing quickly, I busy myself with cleaning up. “I hope I ain’t overstepping,” I say to the wall.

I don’t think I can look at her with a straight face as I struggle to fight the surge of emotions. “But I got hot water going if you wanted to take a bath. There’s a small tub in the corner, but it only pipes in cold.” I nod with my head towards the corner, past where Roscoe watches us with his head on his paws.

“Oh God, I’d love a bath,” she groans. “I just need to sit here for a second though. I haven’t eaten much the last few days…” She stops long enough I turn around to see if she’s fallen asleep.

“Ford? What day is today?” she asks quietly.

“Day after Thanksgiving.” I should probably call Dixon back. Shit, I still didn’t tell Mason about the cows.

“Five days,” she whispers. “And no one even knew I was missing.”

Damn, that feels like a punch to the gut. I feel even worse for her.

“I find that hard to believe. I bet you have tons of friends and family that are looking for you right now.” I have to hope that she has people out there who care for her.

No one deserves to go through what she has and not have someone to help her heal.

The tangled mat of her hair moves as one piece when she shakes her head. “My dad and I had a huge argument that night. His wife, the step-cunt, threw out a bunch of my favorite clothes, so I left.”

Her crass nickname sets me back and makes me chuckle. “Step-cunt? That’s new.” I think I like this girl. She has a little fire.

“Yea, well, I guess he had a heart attack that night. She won’t let me talk to him.” She twists her mouth and chews on the inside of her cheek before her brows furrow. “Fuck him! He chose her!” Her voice raises. “I hope he dies. He didn’t look for me! He didn’t even try to call when I left.” Tears well in her eyes. “Screw them both. I don’t need them, or anyone. I’ll find a place like this and be just fucking fine.” Her balled fists beat the comforter between her knees hard enough Roscoe raises his head to watch her.

I don’t know what to say.

I wouldn’t wish this solitude on anyone, especially someone who has demons of their own.

It’s hell.