“What?” The question catches me off guard.
“At the feed store today. Noah Sanchez—he’s a deputy now. He told me to be careful, that there were rumblings about what’s happening at the ranch.” Her eyes search mine, looking for answers I can’t give her. “What did he mean, Jesse?”
Fuck. I knew this would happen eventually, but I was hoping for more time. Time to figure out how to explain things, time to prepare her for the truth.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, but we both know it’s bullshit.
“Don’t.” Her voice is sharp now, all the heat from moments ago replaced by suspicion. “Don’t lie to me. I heard you and Truett this morning, talking about needing money and not being able to hire more hands. And now Noah is warning me about rumblings? What the hell is going on?”
I run a hand through my wet hair, trying to buy time to think. How do I explain that we’re running cattle that don’t belong to us? That we’re stealing from other ranches to keep ours afloat? That everything we’ve built could come crashing down at any moment?
“There are things you can’t know about,” I finally say. “Things that are better left alone.”
“Better for who?” she demands.
“For you. For your safety.” I step closer again, my voice urgent. “Bree, please. Don’t ask questions whose answers might get you hurt. Trust me on this.”
She stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the war playing out in her expression. Part of her wants to trust me, to let this go. But the other part, the part that’s always been too curious for her own good, won’t let it drop.
“I can’t do this,” she says finally, pushing past me toward where she dropped her flannel shirt. “I can’t get involved with someone who won’t be honest with me. Not again.”
“Aubree, wait…”
“No, Jesse.” She pulls on the wet shirt with sharp, angry movements. “I came back here broken because a man lied to me, and I won’t let that happen again. Whatever you’re mixed up in, I can’t be part of it.”
She heads for the barn door, but I catch her arm. “The storm?—”
“I’d rather get struck by lightning than stay here with someone who thinks I’m too weak to handle the truth.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. “It’s not about weakness. It’s about keeping you safe.”
“That’s not your choice to make.” She jerks free of my grip. “Thanks for the ride home last night. And for the dance. But this, whatever this is between us, it’s over before it started.”
She pushes through the barn doors and disappears into the storm, leaving me standing there half-naked and completely gutted. Through the rain, I hear the truck door slam, then the engine turning over.
I watch her taillights disappear into the darkness, and for the first time since my parents died, I wonder if trying to protect the people I love is actually destroying them instead.
THIRTEEN
AUBREE
I burstthrough the front door of the big house, welcomed by the roar of a fire in the fireplace. At some point, Cookie’s been here. Even though he’s not making dinner for everyone, he took time out of his day to make sure I’d be warm when I get home.
I’m the only one who loves the fireplace.
It was the gathering spot for our family, and after my parents died, it hurt Truett to even look at it. I’m the one who wanted it blazing at any given chance. I’m the one who would sit in front of it and read books. It’s the one thing I missed desperately while I was gone, and believe it or not, one of the main reasons I came home.
I needed familiarity and comfort, which is exactly what this fireplace represents.
The house is quiet. Has been since our parents died, and while this fireplace is my comfort, I hate the rest of the house. In every nook and corner, there are memories of what life was like before we lost them, what I wish we could still have. If only that drunk driver hadn’t crossed the yellow line.
“Truett,” I yell. “Are you here?”
I’m not surprised when he doesn’t answer. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since I moved back in, he’s hardly ever here. Not wanting to be by myself, I pick up my phone and cross my fingers that I have service. When I see that it’s connected, I place a FaceTime request to Nora.
She answers almost immediately. Her face is almost as familiar as my own.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
