Unbreak Me

by Michelle Hazen

  Andra frowned. “Why would you research that? Do you get panic attacks?” It was hard to imagine anything that might frighten LJ’s crowbar-tough mom.

  “When LJ was a little boy, he had fits. Not really temper tantrums. He was the sweetest child, so helpful, and you could see he wasn’t doing it on purpose. But sometimes it’d come over him, like his fa—” Rose cut herself off and kept going without a pause. “He’d get so mad he couldn’t control himself. Sometimes he’d hold his breath until he turned blue and slumped right over to sleep. Didn’t matter if I cuddled him or scolded him or anything. Only thing that helped was to leave him be until he came around on his own.” She smiled, her eyes falling to her lap. “It sure did upset some folks in the grocery store, though.”

  LJ went back to the counter and started washing the dirty pan, his shoulders hunched tightly.

  “Well, I guess it came in handy,” Andra said, wanting to draw the attention back away from him. She kept her voice light, testing the waters. “I guess New Orleans wasn’t the magical cure after all. So much for all the voodoo magic you told me you were putting in your food.” She tickled LJ’s side, and his abs clenched under her fingers.

  “It’s no big thing.” His lips tipped up toward a smile, and a little bit of hope crept in under her disappointment.

  Even after all that, they weren’t treating her as if she were crazy. But then, they wouldn’t, would they? LJ had told her how nervous it made him when it rained, and last week Rose had pointed out with a shaking hand where her grandmother’s piano used to sit, before the floodwaters washed it away. These people weren’t untouched by their past, and they didn’t expect her to be, either. Her father had always been so upset by her attacks that she’d never considered that in a certain way . . . they were normal.

  LJ’s smile grew. “Besides, I’m going to have a great time telling Ty it was his ugly old face that sent you into fits.”

  “Please don’t.” She cringed. “He’s been so sweet. When you were on that landscaping job the other day, he and Tash came over to teach me guitar chords. Even after Tash gave me up as a lost cause, he was so sure I’d get better and my fingers would stop getting twisted all up and hitting the wrong things.” She paused. “Wait, weren’t you two supposed to be doing a drywall job together today?”

  LJ glanced at the clock and said a word that had his mother frowning at him. “I gotta run. Will you be okay?”

  “Depends on if I mess up the roux, I think, and how fast your mom can find a weapon.”

  He dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll hide the knives.”

  She went to the sink and stared down at the pan he’d been working on. Now that he was gone, she needed to wrap her mind around the idea that she might be crippled by these panic attacks forever.

  She swallowed. They had gotten better, and that would have to be enough. It was a little easier with LJ and his mom, because they understood having an ugly past, and all the messy ways it butted into the present. But not even that would do Andra much good, considering they lived thousands of miles away from her.

  She picked up the scouring pad. Tonight. She needed to confront LJ as soon as he got home. After last night, she couldn’t stand not having some kind of plan for how they could stay together. Whether Rose could move to Montana, or if they’d have to move down here for good. Her throat clamped shut at the idea of leaving her ranch, her horses, and she scrubbed harder as she tried to think of a third choice.

  “You’re fretting so hard I can hear it all the way over here.” The floor creaked, and then Rose patted her arm. “What’s the matter, girl?” She sounded so much like her son that tears stung Andra’s eyes, but her phone rang before she could figure out how to respond. “Go on and get that,” Rose said, handing her a dish towel to dry her hands. “I’ll be three weeks in the grave before I’m old enough I need help to make a roux.”

  Andra flashed her a strained smile and went for the phone. Rose had been out of bed more the past couple of days, though Andra wasn’t familiar enough with lupus to know whether that meant the worst was over for now.

  She picked up her cell, and as soon as she saw the name on the screen, her heart jumped like she was headed for a second attack. It was her father.

  Thirty-one

  Andra stepped outside into the ruthless sunlight, trying to push away her unease. It wasn’t like she hadn’t talked to her father since she’d left. He tended to avoid the subject of LJ, but other than that, they were okay. It was just that usually he waited for her to call him.

  “Hi, Dad, what’s up?” She worked to keep her voice light. “Did you like the pictures I sent? I still haven’t figured out the whole fire-swallowing guy, and LJ refuses to explain the trick to me.”

  “Well, I’m glad you had fun, Andra, but it’s time to come home.”

  She turned her back to the sun, sweat already trickling down her spine. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “Your brother broke his leg last night. He was trying to get Taz used to the lariat, but it was nearly sunset and the light was funny. He thinks that’s why she spooked. She busted through a fence and went down on top of Jason’s leg.” Dad cleared his throat. “He came out of surgery okay, but he’s not feeling his oats too much right now.”

  “Oh my God.” Andra shifted her weight off her right ankle, the one she’d broken barrel racing when she was ten. It throbbed when she thought about how much more it would hurt to break a leg. “What about Taz? Is she okay?”

  “Just cuts, but she’d better get her head straight about lariats, because she’s a lot more likely to be working the range rather than the show ring with the kind of scars she’s going to have now.”

  Andra paced across the porch, the shock making her thoughts come slower even as her feet sped up. “Jason always starts right at six. What was he doing still riding at sunset? That’s nearly fourteen hours.”

  “We’ve got a ranch that takes three trainers to eke by, and we have one, Cassandra. Why do you think he was riding at sunset?”

  She flinched. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

  “It’s not your fault. These things happen,” he said. “But I can’t spare you any longer. Right now, we’ve got a whole crop of horses looking to hit the circuit a year later than we can afford, unless we hire some help.”

  She glanced back toward the house. “I can’t come home yet, Dad. LJ’s mom barely has the energy to make it to the bathroom on her own most days. She can’t cook, much less go back to work, and with LJ working to support them both, there’s no one to take care of her.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but you have your own family to look after, Andra. You think your brother’s having an easy time getting to the bathroom with six pins in his leg?” His voice rose.

  “No, but—” She needed a few more days. Weeks.

  Unfortunately, she knew the finances of the ranch even better than her father did. The feed bills, the new fence for the western pasture, the tractor they’d replaced last summer, their tab with the vet. They needed to sell this batch of horses to feed the ones who’d be born in the spring. There was a saying among ranchers: land rich, cash poor. She couldn’t justify selling off Lawler acres to stay here with LJ.

  “Look, how soon can you get here? I’ve got interviews for new trainers lined up all day Wednesday. Now that you’re not minding having men on the place, we should be able to fill two or three spots without a problem, but I’d rather have you vet the candidates yourself.”

  “Are any of them local? People aren’t going to want to move for a job that’s temporary. Jason will get better, and we have to hold LJ’s position open for him. In case he . . .” She glanced down the street, too embarrassed to admit she didn’t know if he was still planning on coming back. His mom’s health wasn’t the only thing calling him back here.

  “He had a job up here, and he ran out on it. I’m not inclined to rely
on someone like that.”

  She gripped the metal of the porch railing, and it nearly burned her palm. “You don’t know him like I do.”

  “Then why don’t you know if he’s coming back?” His question hung there until Dad sighed, his voice softening. “Listen, sweetie, if he’s the man you say he is, he’ll be back once his mother’s better, and you’ll have nothing to worry about. And if he wouldn’t do that for you, you need to stop hanging around there waiting on him.”

  “It’s not that simple.” She picked at a peeling bit of paint on the railing. His mom would eventually pull out of this lupus flare-up, but it wouldn’t be the last. Every time, LJ would face the same choice: his job or his family. Her or his family.

  “It is that simple, sweetheart. When you love somebody, you want them to be happy, no matter what it costs you. If this is the man for you, he’ll do the right thing.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden threat of tears. LJ would do the right thing. For her, for his mom. Whatever he could do, no matter what it cost him. But would she?

  If she were a good person, she wouldn’t ask him to come back to a place where people snuck sideways glances at him every time he went to town. She wouldn’t expect him to leave his mother alone and forget about his friends to move someplace where he had to play his music to the dead space of a tiny apartment. No band. No audience.

  “We need you, Andra. Come home.” Quietly, her father disconnected.

  She glanced at the front door, then hit the number for her brother’s cell. It rang through to voicemail. He was probably sleeping, which meant she was out of excuses to delay what had to be done.

  She walked back inside on numb feet. A pot bubbled merrily on the stove, and Rose rested at the kitchen table, watching the small TV. She flipped it off as soon as she saw Andra’s expression. “Come here, honey. Tell me what happened now.”

  Andra shook her head. “I have to go home, that’s all, and—” She gulped down a breath, the other woman’s face coming into sharp focus as Andra realized she might not see her again. She went over and knelt next to her. “Rose, it’s been . . .” She fumbled for the right words. “I’m just glad I got the chance to be here. I don’t think I knew how much I missed my own mom until I met you.”

  Tears started to sparkle in Rose’s eyes, and she reached out and gripped Andra’s hands. “I love you, too, honey, and I’m so grateful to the good Lord for bringing you here. But don’t go saying all your goodbyes. I think I might have a few years left in me yet.”

  Andra straightened her shoulders. “Listen. Whatever happens, wherever he decides to go—” Her voice wavered, and she forced back the lump in her throat. “I know you don’t want to tell him when you’re sick because you think it might hold him back. But you didn’t see his face when he found out you needed him and he wasn’t there.”

  Rose’s expression stiffened, and her lips pressed thin.

  “If he can’t trust you to tell him when you need help, he’ll never leave again,” she said all in a rush. “I don’t even know if he wants to leave, but if you want him to have the option, you need to be honest with him. He’s your son, Rose. Let him be there for you.”

  Rose’s chin lifted, the skin tightening over her cheekbones. High, like her son’s. One tear broke free from her eye when she nodded.

  “Thank you,” Andra whispered. Her stomach twisted greasily. That whole speech had probably been unnecessary.

  The truth was in LJ’s smile the other night when he introduced her all down the line of mule-carriage drivers. In the difference in the distant way her father said his name compared to all his friends they’d run into around town, who said it like an exclamation, usually right before they wrapped him in a hug.

  “I have to pack,” Andra whispered, and she fled into LJ’s room. It had felt perfect to sleep in there last night, in LJ’s arms. But this place was his, not hers. No matter what he said, it would never be theirs.

  * * *

  • • •

  LJ took off his shirt on the porch, flapping it until a cloud of drywall dust puffed up into the scathing midday sun. Damned Sheetrock always made him itchy, but it paid good when Leo got behind enough to call for extra help. He flipped his shirt over his shoulder and shoved the front door open with a grin. “Hey, y’all had better not have had lunch without me. The crew’s not going back on until tonight when it gets a little cooler, and Leo sent me back with a mess of shrimp. Thinking I might make some grits to go with them.”

  He dropped the bag of shrimp in the fridge, hesitating before he closed the door. The sounds weren’t right. Andra hadn’t come out to meet him, but hangers clashed inside their bedroom. He stepped into his mama’s room, and she was sitting up in bed but not doing a thing.

  His frown deepened. “What?”

  Mama jerked her chin toward the back of the house in response, her lips compressed.

  He took two long strides toward the next room. “Andra?”

  He saw the suitcase first, and he had to grab the doorframe to keep from stumbling. The shirt slipped off his shoulder and puddled on the carpet.

  She looked up at him, her eyes a little red, and tried for a smile that failed miserably. “Hi.”

  “Where you going?” His voice came out weak and he cleared his throat. If she was packing up with no notice, he must have said something to upset her, but he couldn’t think of what.

  “Jason broke his leg.”

  Air whooshed out of his lungs with relief, immediately chased by guilt. They weren’t exactly close, because Jason didn’t talk much, and he got cagey about his sister, but he was a good guy. A busted leg meant a lot of slow months of recovery, and that was hard on a working man. “Which horse?”

  “Taz.”

  LJ flinched. It was the first colt he’d worked with on the Lawler Ranch. “Shit. I told you she was still squirrelly and I needed some more time with her.”

  “I know, but I left in such a hurry, I forgot to tell Jason. It’s my fault.” She threw a pair of jeans into the suitcase. “I need to get back. The ranch is shorthanded.” She straightened and turned his way, but her eyes avoided the touch of his.

  She’d opened up a lot in the last few months, but Andra still did most of her talking with her back instead of her words. And right now her spine was stretched tighter than any guitar string he’d ever tuned.

  “It’s time to face my responsibilities,” she said.

  LJ’s nerves started jangling, and he gripped the doorframe tighter, the cheap wood creaking. “What does that mean?”

  Her eyes skittered even farther from his. “Let’s go outside.”

  His heart punched out a single beat that rattled his ribs. “Uh, okay.”

  She edged around him. Mama’s eyes followed them as they passed through her room, not one of the three of them breaking the silence.

  He took Andra around the back of the house, where they’d have more privacy. The hair on the back of his neck bristled, and LJ had an idea he wasn’t going to like a single thing she had to say.

  When she turned around again, tears glistened on her face, and the sight all but broke him.

  “Why are you crying?” he whispered.

  “I’m not ready,” she said shakily. “Damn it, I’m not ready.”

  “For what?” He shook his head. “You’ll go back to Montana and ride about a million hours a day to catch up. Mama will get on her feet again, and then I’ll be back to help you. What’s the problem?”

  She looked at him, and he itched all over like he hadn’t gotten rid of enough drywall dust. “You know you’re not coming back to Montana.”

  He gritted his teeth and hunched his shoulders. It was like she could sense the arguments he’d been having with himself. Every mile on the way down here and nearly every hour since then. “I’ll figure it out.”

  It tasted like a li
e. How could he figure his way out of the family of his blood needing him in one place and the family of his heart needing him in another?

  “You can’t change who you are,” Andra said. “I know you want to be there for your mom, for me and the horses and everybody in the world who’s hurting, but you can’t, LJ. You belong here. This place is your heart, built up into a city, and it needs you.” She wrapped her arms over her chest, and it was the old, brittle way she used to move. “I’ve been so selfish. I wanted you to teach me to cook and laugh, and help me remember what safe felt like. I needed you so bad I pretended I didn’t know what you needed.”

  Energy pulsed up through his legs, into the thick muscles of his stomach and chest. People had been telling him his whole life that what he wanted was unrealistic, and he’d managed to pull off most of it anyway. He didn’t want his life dictated to him by anyone, not even the woman he loved. “So what, now you’re going to tell me what I need?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Because you won’t. You’d endure anything if it helped someone else, but you don’t deserve that, LJ. I know you want to help me, and you did.” Her voice caught, and she said it again. “You did. But I’m not going to let you walk away from your home and your family for me.”

  “I wanted you to be my family.” His hands were too big, his voice too rough. He knew she was about to tell him no, and he wanted to break his own bones just to feel the pain of it.

  Fresh tears welled in her eyes, blurring the brilliant green. “I came down here because I wanted to find a way to make things work between us. I had no idea how wrong I was for you, because I never really knew all of you until I came here.” She gestured out toward the street. “This place is what it is because everybody knows each other’s story. How could you ever have a family who didn’t know everybody here? Who didn’t speak the language? I don’t play, LJ. I can’t even sing. And if I came here, looking like I do, being who I am, and being with you . . . they’d hate me for it.”