Page 111 of Saving the Rain
“Of course you are.” I drain the last of my coffee.
“Don’t you think I’m pretty?” he whines.
“Oh my god.” A laugh chokes out of me so suddenly I nearly spit my entire mouthful all over my dad’s ancient computer. “You’re gonna make this about you, aren’t cha?”
“Tell me I’m pretty right now, or I’ll never speak to you again, Wilder.”
“Jesus. Yes, you’re very pretty alright.”
“Thank you.” He huffs. “Now rewind to the fact you slipped and fell onto Raine’s—what I’m sure is very impressive—dick. I coulda been coaching you through every trick I’ve got for sucking cock.”
“Why does everyone keep telling me I need coaching?”
“Well... you ain’t gonna be deep-throating a monster like that your very first time.”
“Ok. I’m not having the rest of this conversation over a radio channel. I just wanted you to know and hold all questions for the next time I can get off this mountain.”
“So what... are you two like kissing cousins now, or what?”
“Jesus.” I scrub my hand over my mouth.
“What does a stepbrother-flavored blow job feel like?”
“Bye.”
“Negative. Don’t you dare end this transmission, prick. Didn’t Raine leave? Heard he fucked off back to moose country.”
“Yeah. I’m not sure where we stand, ok. But if I didn’t completely mess it up, I wanna be with him. As in a serious, proper relationship, go all-in kinda deal. Is that enough spilling my guts to keep you happy?”
He pauses and takes his sweet time before replying. “For now. But you bet your perky, firm ass cheeks I will hunt you down as soon as that snow clears and expect the full story. Copy?”
A wry smile settles on my lips. “Loud and clear, Chaos.”Loud and fucking clear.
The restof my day goes by uneventfully. Cattle get fed. Horses take up too much of my time. It’s a familiar loop around the ranch while the place is coated in fresh snow. With such a significant fall, the mountain road will be shut for a while. I’ve heard from the crew who work to clear access as fast as they safely can, but there’s no promise it’ll be open until next week at the earliest.
So here I am, in my little bubble. With cows and horses for company until things clear a little and the weather settles. Once the forecast looks good for a few days in a row I’ll ride out and check some of the fences and further parts of the ranch for any damage. But today all I need to do is the basics and make sure all the animals are safe, with access to food, water, and shelter.
Winter has a strange sort of rhythm to it. Up here, you’re at the mercy of the elements, so much more so than down in Crimson Ridge, with the extreme of added altitude to contend with. So you can make plans, you can prepare your ass off, but ultimately you just gotta play the hand you get dealt.
Sometimes, it’s a royal flush, a winning streak to leave you grinning from ear to ear, and at other times, it’s one that makes you immediately want to fold.
Right now, it’s not the ranch making me feel that way. It’s the messages waiting for me in my inbox. An email address I wish hadn’t made an appearance, and yet here she is, once again.
I hurriedly scan the contents of her email. Apologies and flurries of chaos from her life. She was discharged from the hospital straight away; somehow, the doctors who evaluated her didn’t consider her to be a risk—they never do. And it’s no big surprise she’s once again turned up asking for something.
The cycle she’s stuck in keeps on repeating itself.
I’m fucking done.
I keep thinking about that night and how strong Raine was for me. He made it seem possible to actually have a life for the first time, one that exists beyond all the ways she continually keeps on trying to wreck mine. The days of her dragging me into her mistakes are over.
As I read her email again, my skin feels a flush of warmth. It’s almost like his hands are holding me tucked against his chest, just as he did on the couch that night when I was a fucking mess. I feel him stroking my hair in that gentle and tender way he does. A careful touch that seems impossible for a man like him, who is so gritty and rough around the edges. There’s a soft rumble, a vibration of his voice; even though I can’t hear the words exactly, I canfeelthe energy of him giving me the strength to do what I should have done years ago.
I start typing.
Mom, I’m going to help you this final time, but it’s not what you’ll expect from me. Or, maybe, it’s what you’ve been begging me for this whole time, and I just couldn’t hear your cry for help.
I apologize for giving you money last time. I should never have done that. The guilt I feel for what happened is something I really struggle with, but this time I will do the thing we should have done in the first place.