“I get it,” Juni shrugs, acting nonchalant, but her body has tensed up and has yet to release. “Cal is a piece of work.”
“I, um,” Darcy passes me the folder she’s holding, “I have Dottie’s bloodwork all completed. It’s all in there. Other than her age, she’s healthy.”
“Thank you,” I grind out, still pissed at her for the way she just treated Juni.
“I’ve got to get going,” she hikes a thumb over her shoulder, eyes swinging back to the woman at my side. She apologizes again before she rushes back tothe SUV, reversing to turn around and then disappears back to the clinic she has here on the ranch.
I open my mouth to say something, but Juni shakes her head. “Don’t. I get it. I would have assumed the worst too, and she’s only protecting Dottie. I’m fine.”
I purse my lips, not entirely happy, but I don’t push her.
“I’m actually just going to get some sleep,” Juni unlinks her finger from mine, “if that’s okay?”
I nod, and the moment I do, she’s turning away, her steps quick as she heads to the house, disappearing through the door.
“Is she sad, Dad?” Caleb stares after her the same way I do.
“Yeah, bud,” I swallow, “But I think we can help with that.”
Chapter Thirteen
Guilt gnaws on my gut as I stare at the ceiling, the light beyond the window starting to dim as the sun sets, turning the sky into these peaceful dusty blue colors, wispy clouds lit up by fire. Silas and his children didn’t return after I’d practically run into hiding earlier, and I know they’d changed their plans to come back here for lunch. I’m not sure where they went, but I knew I’d ruined their afternoon.
I don’t belong here.
I’m not surewhereI belong.
It doesn’t matter that I want to stay here. Even after only a day, it feels like home when itreally shouldn’t. These people have their own lives, and I’m just a momentary visitor. It’s probably just the sudden freedom that makes me feel like this. I’ve spent so much time under Cal’s thumb, subjected to his cruelty, that the moment someone shows me even an ounce of kindness, I latch on.
My finger is still tingling from where Silas linked his with mine earlier, a silent anchor that kept my feet on the ground.
I don’t know how I’ll ever repay him for what he’s done for me.
And his kids… Rosie is sweet and lively; the energy she gives out is contagious, impossible to ignore and harder not to match. She’d made me laugh and smile more in a few hours than I have in years. Caleb reminds me of Silas: quiet and watchful, though there’s a spark of curiosity in his eyes. We’d had fewer interactions, but I could already tell he was a good kid.
It had been nice watching Silas work with Dottie. I’d snuck glances when no one was looking back at Scott Ranch, watched him as he patiently waited for the horse to trust him. He spent hours at the fence, just stood there, talking softly, and I’d silently cheered when I started to notice the Appaloosa was beginning to trust him. I’ve never seen someone so in tune with the animals before, like he can sense what they’re thinking, what they’re feeling, and adapt to give them exactly what they need.
There’s a gentleness to Silas I’m not so sure he shows many people, but there’s something else there too, something darker. You can see the ghosts in his eyes, and I’ve watched him enough over the past couple of weeks to see that he is haunted. I don’t know by what, but it’s something.
I guess we all have our secrets and our pasts; some are just more obvious than others.
With a sigh, I push up from the bed and head to the door. They got back twenty minutes ago, and I had yet to pluck up the courage to face them, but hiding from them isn’t an option. I owe them more than that.
When I reach the living room, I find Caleb and Rosie on the floor, pizza boxes spread out before them with sodas and cookies on the coffee table, but Silas is sitting in the kitchen, his laptop open in front of him. His whiskey eyes lift to me, but there’s no anger or resentment there for my disappearance.
“Did you get any sleep?” He asks, jerking his chin for me to take a chair at the table with him.
“No,” I don’t bother lying.
He chuckles, “I didn’t think so.”
“I’m sorry,” I sigh.
“Don’t be,” he gets up and moves to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of water before he hands one to me. “Are you hungry?”
“A little.”
In the short amount of time I’ve known this man, I’ve figured out how hard he cares. I noticed it the first time I saw him with Dottie. He has the patience of a saint and a soul to match. Reaching down, he pulls a pizza out of the oven that had been left in there to stay warm.
