Page 59

Westley

Icouldn’t sleep that night. My head was too full to find any sort of rest. After everything Rhett had admitted to me, what he’d shown me… I found myself torn between wanting to put distance between us and hoping he’d walk back through that door.

I lay there on top of the covers, still dressed, staring up at the ceiling fan turning slow circles above me, listening to every creak the old building made like it might be him coming back up those stairs. It never was. Instead, it was just the settling of wood, the hum of the window unit, the occasional truck passing out on the main road, headlights sweeping across the ceiling before fading off again.

I kept picturing Dolly’s shoes sitting on that shelf. Kept picturing her bringing us pie not even two hours before I’d found out she’d been robbed by the very boy she loved like her own son. I thought about Marcus, how tired he’d looked, and how the thefts had stopped the second Rhett began working for him. Because I’d been sitting right there the whole time, close enough to see it all, but I was blinded by love to what Rhett was really doing.

And then I thought about Rhett’s face down in that cellar, how small he’d looked standing there surrounded by all the stolen goods, like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I hated that some part of me still ached to go find him, to pull him against my chest and tell him it would all be alright. That ache didn’t care one bit about what was right or wrong. It just wanted him back in my arms.

Around four in the morning I gave up pretending sleep was ever going to happen and went and sat out on the little balcony off the kitchen. I put my bare feet up on the railing, watching the sky start to go gray at the edges. Sagebrush looked so peaceful from up there. Rooftops and the water tower and the steeple of Mike’s church poking up over the treeline. It was hard to believe a town that looked so quiet could be so complicated. But I guess that was true of most things if you looked close enough.

I thought about calling somebody. Cash maybe, or even Marcus himself, just to get it off my chest before it ate me alive. But every time I reached for my phone I set it right back down again, because some stubborn, loyal part of me still couldn’t make myself be the one to turn him in. I loved Rhett too much for that.

By the time the sun actually broke over the horizon, I hadn’t slept a wink and my coffee had gone cold in my hands twice over. I heard my phone buzz on the counter and nearly knocked over the mug reaching for it, heart leaping stupid and hopeful into my throat before I even saw the screen.

It wasn’t Rhett. It was Mike.

Mike: Church is closed today. Take the day off.

I stared at the screen. Did churches ever close? That seemed strange to me. But then again, Mike was pretty much running the place by himself, so if he caught a cold or something, there wouldn’t be anyone there. I was surprised he didn’t send Cash in his place, but from what I knew of Cash, he wasn’t exactly the church-going type.

Me: No problem. I hope everything is okay.

There was no reply, so I put my phone back on the side table and turned back to the sunrise threatening at the horizon. The coffee had gone bitter and cold again by the time I finally set it down and went back inside, though I didn’t have the heart to make another pot. I just stood there in the kitchen a long while, staring at the spot on the counter where Rhett usually left his boots by the door, scuffed and worn down at the heel. They weren’t there. He hadn’t come home last night at all.

I told myself that didn’t mean anything bad. Maybe he just needed space, same as I did. Maybe he was crashed out somewhere sleeping it off, same as I should’ve been doing instead of standing here wearing a hole in Dolly’s old linoleum.

Around eight, I forced myself to shower and get dressed even though I had nowhere to be thanks to Mike’s text. I wasn’t hungry at all, but I headed down to the diner anyway, figuring I should at least get something in my stomach even if I didn’t want it. Dolly was behind the counter, same as always, humming along to the radio, and the sight of her so normal and unbothered put a lump straight up in my throat that I had to swallow down hard before I could even say good morning.

“West, honey, you look like death warmed over,” she said, already pouring me a cup of coffee before I’d even slid onto the stool. “Rough night?”

“Somethin’ like that,” I managed.

“Where’s Rhett at? Thought you two were joined at the hip these days.” She said it light, teasing, with no idea at all what those words did to my stomach. “He ain’t still sleepin’, is he? Lazy kid.”

“I ain’t sure where he’s at, actually,” I admitted, turning my mug around in slow circles on the counter. “We had a bit of a disagreement last night.”

Her eyebrows went up at that, concern flickering across her face quick as lightning. “Everything alright between you two, sugar?”

“I hope so,” I said, because it was the only honest thing I could manage without spilling everything I knew all over her clean counter. “Just need some time to work through some things, I think.”

She studied me a second longer than felt comfortable, like she could see straight through to whatever I wasn’t saying, but she didn’t push. She just reached over and squeezed my hand once, quick and warm, same as she’d done a hundred times before.

“Well, when you see him, you tell him I expect him for supper. Can’t have my boys goin’ hungry over some silly spat.” She bustled off toward the kitchen before I could answer, leaving me there with my coffee and guilt making me feel like I weighed a thousand pounds.

After a few minutes Dolly reappeared with a plate, sliding it in front of me without a word. I picked at the eggs I didn’t have any appetite for, listening to the normal chatter of the diner wash around me. But I found myself watching the door every time the bell jingled, hoping and dreading in equal measure that it might be Rhett walking through it.

It never was.

By midmorning I gave up on sitting still and walked the two blocks down to the church, figuring I’d check on Mike myself since the whole thing still felt strange. But when I got there, the parking lot was empty save for Mike’s own truck, and the front doors were locked up tight. There was a handwritten sign taped to the glass that just said CLOSED TODAY in Mike’s careful, looping hand.

I knocked anyway, feeling foolish the second my knuckles hit the wood, but there wasn’t any answer. I stood there a minute, hands in my pockets, looking up at that steeple against the pale morning sky. I thought about Cash, wondering if he knew what was up with Mike. But I didn’t have it in me to go asking. I had enough trouble on my plate already. So I just turned around and walked back toward the apartment, the whole way there watching every truck that passed, every face on the sidewalk, hoping one of them might be Rhett coming back to me.

None of them were.

However, there was one truck that caught my eye, sitting in the parking lot of the feed store. It was Dale’s, my daddy’s foreman at the ranch. I planned to pass by without stopping, but as I passed the store, Dale stepped out onto the front porch with a pink invoice receipt in his hand. He must’ve been putting in an order for the ranch.

“West!” he called out, a big smile on his face as he waved me over.