PRAISE FOR BRITTAINY CHERRY BOOKS
“Brittainy Cherry has the ability to shatter our hearts and heal them in the same story.”
—The Bookery Review
“This is not just your ordinary romance. It is completely addictive and intensely consuming. Heartbreakingly real in all its entirety.”
—Kitty Kats Crazy about Books
“Full of heartbreak and loss and pain. But also so full of love and hope and sweet and happy moments. I adored every single word in this book!”
—BJ’s Book Blog
“As usual Brittainy wrote a stunning story that will touch your heart and stay with you.”
—Mel Reader Reviews
“I’m speechless and completely overwhelmed by the beauty of this story.”
—Two Unruly Girls
“As always Cherry aims straight for our hearts and hits a bull’s-eye!”
—Book Bistro Blog
“STUNNING! Brittainy Cherry has once again blown my mind with another one of her beautifully written stories. There is no doubt in my mind that readers are going to fall just as madly in love with this story as I have.”
—Wrapped Up in Reading Book Blog
“You don’t just read a Brittainy Cherry book—her books, her words, devour you. Landon and Shay’s story is positively magnificent, and the best part is we’re only halfway through it.”
—Passionately Plotted
“There is so much emotion throughout, so many beautiful words, and I could not get enough. I laughed, my heart broke, and I felt everything the characters felt.”
—Bibliophile Ramblings
“Beautiful, heart-achingly real, and one of the best books I have ever read.”
—Elle’s Book Blog
OTHER TITLES BY BRITTAINY CHERRY
The Elements Series
The Gravity of Us
The Silent Waters
The Fire Between High & Lo
The Air He Breathes
Other Titles
Landon & Shay, Parts 1 & 2
Eleanor & Grey
A Love Letter from the Girls Who Feel Everything (coauthored with Kandi Steiner)
Disgrace
Behind the Bars
Art & Soul
Loving Mr. Daniels
Our Totally, Ridiculous, Made-Up Christmas Relationship (novella)
The Space in Between
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2020 by Brittainy C. Cherry
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542017862
ISBN-10: 1542017866
Cover design by Hang Le
To the ones who struggle but never give up on love
CONTENTS
1 HAZEL
2 IAN
3 HAZEL
4 IAN
5 HAZEL
6 IAN
7 HAZEL
8 HAZEL
9 IAN
10 HAZEL
11 IAN
12 IAN
13 HAZEL
14 IAN
15 HAZEL
16 HAZEL
17 IAN
18 IAN
19 IAN
20 HAZEL
21 IAN
22 HAZEL
23 IAN
24 HAZEL
25 IAN
26 HAZEL
27 HAZEL
28 IAN
29 HAZEL
30 IAN
31 IAN
32 IAN
33 HAZEL
34 HAZEL
35 IAN
36 HAZEL
37 IAN
38 IAN
39 HAZEL
40 IAN
41 IAN
42 IAN
43 HAZEL
44 IAN
Epilogue HAZEL
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
1
HAZEL
“I think you’re in the wrong spot,” Big Paw said as I sat across from him in his office. “You have to go down to the Farmhouse restaurant to apply for a waitstaff position.”
Sitting across from a man like Big Paw made a person feel smaller than small. Obviously, his name wasn’t really Big Paw, but that was what everyone in town called him. He was an older gentleman in his eighties and quite a force to be around. You didn’t live in Eres without knowing about Big Paw. He lived up to his name too. He was a big man, both in weight and in height. He had to be well over six foot five and around 250 pounds, easily. Even at his age, he didn’t slouch over much, but he moved a bit slower. He always wore the same thing, too, day in and day out. A plaid shirt with a pair of overalls, his cowboy boots, and a trucker hat. I swore, his closet must’ve had a million plaid shirts and overalls, or his wife, Holly, did a lot of laundry.
Eres, Nebraska, was a place unknown to most of the world. We walked on dirt roads, and most of our pockets were dirt poor. If you had a job in Eres, you were a lucky one, though it probably didn’t pay you much of anything. You worked paycheck to paycheck if you were fortunate. If you weren’t lucky, you’d probably take a loan out with Big Paw, who wouldn’t ever expect you to pay it back, even though he’d tell you that you owed him on the regular. Old Man Kenny down at the auto shop still owed Big Paw $50,000. That debt had been held up since 1987, and I doubted that debt would ever be paid off. Still, during every town gathering, Big Paw brought it up with a grumpy look glued to his face.
Big Paw was pretty much the godfather of Eres. He ran Eres Ranch, which was the centerpiece of the whole town. From his crop fields to his cattle, Big Paw had created something no one else seemed to have been able to do in Eres—he’d built something that had lasted.
Eres Ranch had been running strong for over sixty years, and most of the people who worked in town worked for Big Paw. They worked either on the ranch or at the Farmhouse.
I definitely wasn’t sitting in his office in hopes of a waitstaff position, even if I looked like I wasn’t made out for the ranch.
“With all due respect, Mr. Big Paw—”
“Big Paw,” he corrected. “No ‘Mr.’ crap like that. Just straightforward Big Paw. Don’t go on making me feel older than I already do.”
I swallowed hard. “Yes. Sorry. Big Paw, with all due respect, I am not interested in a position at the restaurant. I want to work on the ranch.”
His eyes darted up and down over me, taking in my appearance. Sure, I was certain most girls my age didn’t want to be getting down and dirty in the pigpens or horse stables, but I needed that position, and I wasn’t going to walk away until I’d secured it.
“You don’t really look like my regular crew.” He huffed and grimaced. I didn’t take it personal, though, because Big Paw was always huffing and grimacing. If he ever smiled at me, I’d feel as if it were a death wish.
“Don’t know if you have what it takes to work in the barns,” he explained, shuffling through the paperwork. “I’m sure Holly can get you a nice position at the resta—”
“I don’t want a restaurant position,” I argued again. Then I paused and swallowed hard, realizing that I’d cut off Big Paw. People didn’t cut off Big Paw. Or at least they didn’t live to tell the story. “Sorry, but I need a position at
the ranch.”
“And why’s that?” His eyes were so dark you felt as if you were staring into the biggest black hole as he looked your way.
“It’s no secret that the ranch hands make double the amount of the employees at the Farmhouse. I need the money.”
He pulled out a cigar from his desk drawer, placed it between his lips, and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t light it, but he chewed on the end. He almost always had that cigar in his mouth, but never once had I seen him light it up. Maybe it was just an old habit that he held on to. Or perhaps Holly had scolded him and ordered him to stop smoking. She was hell bent on making Big Paw take care of his health, even if he didn’t want to, and I swore that man would do anything to make his wife happy. Holly was probably the only soul alive who ever received his smiles.
“You live down at the trailers, right?” he asked, brushing a thumb against his upper lip.
“Yes, sir.” He cocked an eyebrow at the word sir. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Yes, Big Paw. That’s right.”
“Who’s your kinfolk?”
“Just my mother, Jean Stone.”
“Jean Stone . . .” His brows pushed closer to one another as he tapped his fingers against the desk. “She’s attached to Charlie Riley, ain’t that right?”
My stomach turned a little at the mention of Charlie. “Yes, si—Big Paw.”
For a split second, Big Paw didn’t look grumpy. He almost looked sad. He chewed on his cigar and shook his head. “That boy ain’t no good. He causes a lot of trouble in our town, bringing in that crap that messes with people’s bodies and heads. I ain’t got no place on my staff if there’s any kind of drug use going on. I don’t have time for that mess.”
“I swear, I don’t use. I actually hate it with a passion.” Almost as much as I hated Charlie.
Charlie was Mama’s husband—my dear ol’ stepfather—and he’d been in our lives as long as I could remember. I’d never known snakes could be people until I’d grown up to find out the type of person Charlie was. He was the dark spot in Eres, a toxic infection that spread throughout town. He was the biggest drug dealer and the main cause of the meth habit that had taken over.
Charlie Riley was trouble—and he was too damn good at his job to ever get caught.
There were many reasons to loathe that man, but my main reason was based on the person he’d turned my mother into.
Mama always said she loved Charlie, but she didn’t like him that much. At least not when he was drunk, and if there was anything Charlie was good at, it was being drunk. Sometimes, Charlie would get so drunk and so loud he’d throw things and hit Mama until she started crying and apologizing for things she’d never even done.
Once I’d asked her why she wouldn’t leave him, and she’d told me, “Everything we have is because of that man. This house, the clothes on your back, the food you eat. Don’t you see, Hazel? Without him, we are nothing.”
I didn’t understand that. I didn’t get why someone was allowed to hurt you just because they gave you things. Maybe she was right about Charlie giving us stuff, but if we had nothing, that would’ve meant she’d have no black eyes either.
She’d told me to drop the conversation and not bring it up again, because she loved Charlie and she’d never leave him.
It’d been three years since we’d had that conversation. I was now eighteen years old, and it seemed like day in and day out, Mama was beginning to side with Charlie over me. I knew it wasn’t her true thoughts, though. Charlie had poisoned her body and mind to the point that Mama hadn’t a clue which way was up. She was a slave to his control and his drug supply. When I looked into Mama’s eyes nowadays, I hardly saw my real mother looking back at me anymore.
I would’ve moved on completely if it weren’t for the fact that Mama was four months pregnant. I felt somewhat responsible for my soon-to-be sibling. Lord knew Charlie wasn’t looking after Mama’s care.
I needed the job at Eres Ranch in order to save up money for my sister or brother. I needed money to buy prenatal vitamins for Mama. Money to make sure her fridge was full. Money to make sure that somehow the baby could come into the world with a little bit more than I had.
Then, with the rest of the money, I’d buy a one-way ticket and leave Eres and never look back. Somehow, I’d convince Mama to come with me, too, with the new baby. The last thing she needed to do was raise a child with Charlie around.
Mama was right—we did have a roof over our heads because of Charlie. But just because someone gave you four walls to stay in didn’t mean they weren’t a prison. I couldn’t wait for the day that I collected enough money to get myself my own four walls. Those four walls would be filled with love, not threats. With happiness, not fear.
And the name Charlie Riley would be a distant memory.
Big Paw rubbed the back of his neck. “We were looking for ranch hands, not some girl who’s probably too afraid to get her hands dirty.”
“I’m not afraid of that at all. I’ll get down and dirty with the rest.”
“You have to be able to lift over sixty pounds.”
“I’ll lift seventy.”
He cocked an eyebrow and leaned forward. “You have to be here before the sun rises, and if you don’t finish the task, you stay after dusk, and there ain’t no overtime. You get paid by the daily tasks being completed, not by the hours you spend here. If you get done early, you can leave early. If you get done late, you’re stuck here late. Also, I don’t believe in three strikes. I believe in one. Mess up, and you’re gone. You understand, girl?”
If anyone else called me “girl,” I’d slam my fist straight into their nose to show them just how much of a girl I was, but hearing it come from Big Paw wasn’t an insult. He called it as he saw it in a straightforward way. He’d call any man younger than him “boy,” too, because he could. I was sure people who identified differently would be offended by the title Big Paw would give them, but he was too old to bother correcting himself.
Old dog, new tricks and all.
“I understand.” I nodded. “I’ll be the hardest worker out there, I promise.”
He grumbled some more and rubbed his beard. “Fine, but don’t come complaining to me when you ruin your favorite pair of shoes in the pigpens. You report to the stables tomorrow at noon sharp for training with my grandson, Ian. He’ll be in charge of getting you up and running.”
I sat up a bit straighter as my stomach tightened. “Wait, Ian is training me?” I frowned. “Are you sure Marcus or James or someone can’t take me on?”
“No. Those boys are already training a few other ranch hands.” He raised his brow once more. “You aren’t already making yourself difficult, are you?”
I shook my head. “No, sir—er—Big Paw. Sorry. That is fine. Noon tomorrow. I’ll be there.”
The idea of being trained by Ian Parker made me want to gag. He was known as the playboy rock star of Eres. Ian had graduated three years before me, and I’d been the lucky girl with my locker right beside his during my freshman year. Which meant I’d had a front-and-center viewing of him swapping spit with whatever small-town groupie was wrapped around his pinkie at the time.
I was shocked that mono wasn’t being spread around more due to Ian Parker and his manwhore ways. Nothing said I hate you more than having to wedge my way between him and blonde-chick-of-the-week to get into my locker. Now, he was responsible for training me at the ranch.
I doubted he even knew who I was, seeing as how I’d spent a good amount of my time in high school trying hard to not stand out. My wardrobe consisted of black on black with a sprinkle of black. It matched my charcoal hair, inky-black nails, and deep-green eyes. The darkness of it all went with my personality. I was a loner and found life a bit easier that way. Most people called me the solo goth of Eres and thought me unworthy of their time. Though a good handful of girls had muscled up the energy to bully me through the high school years, as if I’d been some bully charity case. Oh? Look at Hazel Stone minding
her business—let’s make her stand out more by throwing food at her during lunch. That’s the attention she’s craving.
If I disappeared, no one would probably come looking for me. Not to be overly melodramatic, but it was true. Once I’d run away from home for two weeks, and when I’d come home, Mama had asked me why I hadn’t done the dishes. She hadn’t even noticed I was missing, and if my own mother wouldn’t notice, I doubted anyone else in Eres would. Especially someone like Ian. He was too busy with his hands either wrapped around a woman or strumming his guitar.
The next day, I showed up at the ranch two hours before I had to meet with Ian. I hung around the stables, wasting minutes before it was time to get to work. I didn’t have a car to get to the job, so it had taken me nearly thirty minutes to walk from Charlie’s place. The sun stung against my skin, forcing sweat to trickle down my forehead. My underarms were Shrek’s dreamland based on the swamp-like moisture attacking them. I held my arms away from my body, trying to stop the sweat stains from deepening, but the summer sun in Eres was unapologetic to the mere human beings it attacked.
When two hours had passed, I headed to the ranch office, where I was supposed to meet with Ian. I sat there for thirty minutes. Then forty-five minutes. An hour went by.
I hadn’t a clue what I should do. I’d checked my watch about five times, making sure I hadn’t blacked out and missed my appointment with Ian.
After waiting over an hour, I began walking around the ranch, hoping to cross paths with Ian or someone who could lead me to Ian. The more time that passed, the more nervous I grew, thinking that if Big Paw found out I wasn’t being trained, he’d cut me loose before I even had a shot at nailing the job.
“Excuse me, can you help me?” I asked a guy carrying a stack of hay on his back. He turned to me with an exhausted look. It had to be around fifty-some pounds of hay resting on him, and I felt bad for even interrupting him, but I couldn’t lose my job.
“Yeah?” he breathed, beaten to his core. I’d seen him around school too. He was James, Ian’s best friend. James was much less of a manwhore than Ian. He smiled a lot more, too, even with heavy hay about to break his spine. The two guys were in a band together called the Wreckage, and even though Ian was the lead singer, James was the heart of the music. People craved Ian, while they wanted to be James’s best friend. He was that nice of a guy. James wore a white T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off the arms and a backward baseball hat. His shirt looked like it’d seen better days, covered in dirt and rips, but still, he found a way to smile at me.
The Wreckage of Us Page 1