GREED (The Seven Deadly Series)

by Fisher Amelie

  She edged past me and opened the door for Jonah. “Come in,” she invited. Jonah climbed inside. “That was nice of you,” she told him.

  The idiot smiled a shit-eating grin and removed his cap from his head. I waited for the “aw, shucks,” but it never came.

  “Just let me grab my coat and I’ll be right with you.”

  Jonah and I stood in absolute silence.

  “Ready,” she said, wrapping her scarf and putting on her beanie.

  I watched her climb on the back of the four-wheeler and wrap her hands around his torso.

  Yup, gonna need to nip that in the bud, I thought. Jonah slowly edged them out onto the snow-filled road and drove up toward the house at a snail’s pace. At least he’s being careful with her.

  I shut off all the lights and applied layer after layer of clothing, knowing how freaking cold I’d be getting as the morning wore on. Luckily, I was in a little better shape than Bridge was, attending a college in Rhode Island. I had two pairs of wool socks on, and my boots felt tight as shit, but that was it as far as double coverage. Everything else I improvised.

  I started toward the barn and was grateful that the wind was still. About halfway up the drive, my heart began to beat an irregular rhythm as I caught sight of Cricket coming toward me. My breath caught in my throat. This girl. This tiny little girl had such incredible power over me with her big, blue, round, sad eyes. Her unusual face, her unusually striking face. Her pert nose. The faint laugh lines around her eyes and mouth. And I didn’t know her, didn’t really even know if she and I were anything alike, but that didn’t stop me from wishing we shared a future...even if she did belong to someone else.

  “What are you doing in my neck of the woods?” I asked her.

  “Just wanted to make sure you found your way all right. Jonah told me he was getting Bridget this morning. Thought it’d be rude if we didn’t also help you out a little,” she joshed.

  “Sure you just didn’t want to see me?”

  She rolled her eyes. “This blatant flirting? You know you’re courting Ethan’s wrath again, right?”

  This made me smile. “Am I getting you in trouble, little lady?”

  “No, but—” she began, but I cut her off by grabbing her upper arm, stunned, truly stunned for the first time in my life.

  “Holy shit! Are you wearing chaps?” I asked, pulling her away from me so I could get a good look.

  “Excuse me?” she asked, looking at me like I was crazy again.

  “You are. You are wearing chaps.” My stomach dropped to my feet. God, she’s sexy as hell. “Turn around for me,” I teased.

  “Excuse me!” Is she mad? “What is wrong with you!” she yelled, yanking her arm away. Yeah, she’s mad.

  “I just-I’ve never seen a girl in chaps before,” I said, staring, a hand involuntarily ran the length of my face. I clamped my lips to prevent drool.

  She haughtily brought her fists to her hips. “Listen, you’re here to work not to flirt.”

  “I can’t work and flirt?”

  “Of course not, you’re here to—”

  “I’m pretty sure I can do both. I’ve tried it before. I was very successful.”

  “Stop it. You’re—”

  “And you look delectable in those, if I say so myself. I wonder if I could get you to wear those at all times,” I mused.

  “No! I-I...ugh!” Click.

  “Are you flustered?”

  “I’m getting Ethan.”

  “You are flustered. I fluster you. Huh, quite a change of pace since yesterday.” She huffed ahead of me, her glorious backside facing me, rushing toward the barn. “Beautiful!” I said, stopping to appreciate it. “Now was that so hard?”

  She immediately covered her ass with her hands and turned around, her eyes narrowed at me. She began to walk sideways like a crab, and I burst out laughing.

  When I finally entered the horse barn, Cricket was plastered to Ethan’s side listening to Jonah. I jogged over to them.

  “...her,” was the only thing I caught of whatever Jonah was saying. The group went silent. Bridge. Bridge was their topic of conversation. Damn.

  “Hey, guys,” I said.

  Ethan nodded but seemed civil. Cricket didn’t tattle as she’d threatened. I couldn’t have cared less, but I found that interesting. I discreetly winked at her and her eyes shot wide before narrowing in promises of lethal force.

  Jonah said, “Hey, Spencer! You’re with me right now. We’ll take this half of the stalls, and Ethan and Cricket will take the other side.”

  Damn. “Cool.”

  “So what’s on the docket today?” I asked him, taking in my surroundings.

  The barn was about fifteen-feet high, and had approximately ten horse stalls running half the back length of the barn on either sides, creating twenty stalls in all. The front half was a giant open space, though I wasn’t sure what it was for. I could see from the road the day before that the horse barn was the biggest building on the property, and it was obvious once I was inside that was the case. I took in all the rustic wood surrounding us and couldn’t imagine how many man-hours it must have taken to forge each log and plank.

  The horse stalls themselves were made of wood as well. Their doors easily slid away on tracks from the opening. Each stall had swinging doors leading to the outside as well, but I could tell those were hardly used, at least not in the winter.

  “We’re going to be mucking out the horse stalls,” Jonah explained. “We do this about once a day, unless the horses have been kept inside for some reason, then we’ll hit them twice.” He walked toward a wall, picked up two pitchforks and handed one to me. I followed him into the nearest stall. “Okay, so you’ll want to wedge the fork underneath the pile of manure. With the fork low to the ground, tightly shimmy it back and forth, freeing any loose pine pellet bedding. We do this so the manure doesn’t break up and we save clean bedding.”

  Together we cleaned the stall in around five minutes, moving to the next with the wheelbarrow, tying up or “racking up” the horse outside the stall, then returning the horse, dropping a new bale of hay, and filling its three-pound feed bucket with grains. We went from one stall to the next and the next until all ten stalls on our side were done. We didn’t talk much but fell into an easy rhythm. In about forty-five minutes, our stalls were clean and our horses fed. I’d never worked like that with someone, and it felt like I’d actually accomplished something.

  “Good job, greenhorn,” Jonah said, slapping me on the back.

  “Dude, what in the hell is a greenhorn?” I asked, eyeing Cricket as we made our way toward the main house for breakfast.

  She and Ethan had two stalls left. I reveled in the fact that she watched me the entire way.

  Jonah laughed. “You’re a greenhorn. It’s essentially a newbie, Spencer.”

  “Ah, guess there’s nothing I can do about it then.”

  “Nothing,” he said, but smiled and slapped me on the shoulder again. “Hungry?”

  “Starved.”

  At breakfast, Cricket came in a little too late for my taste. In fact, I knew for a fact they should’ve been in shortly after Jonah and me. I studied them from across the room. Cricket’s raw lips gave away her little game, and Ethan’s fucking grin pissed me off beyond belief.

  “Hello?” I heard to my left.

  “Huh?” I said.

  “I was talking to you, Spence,” Bridge said, rolling her eyes when I finally made eye contact.

  “Never mind,” she huffed. “I’m going to pee for the seventh time this morning. I hope Ellie didn’t think I was trying to get out of work.” She got up and headed for the restroom.

  Cricket looked at me from the corner of her eye. I raised my brows in question but she ignored me. I began to stand up to join them, but Bridge rushed back into the dining room, startling me. There was a look of panic on her face.

  “I’m bleeding,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  She shook her h
ead up and down, her eyes glassing over, biting her thumbnail.

  My heart jumped into my throat. “Okay, okay, let’s not panic. Uh, let me think,” I said, running my hands through my hair. My eyes searched the table and met Cricket’s.

  She read something in my expression, jumped up and crawled over her bench, practically sprinting over to us. “What’s wrong? You okay, Bridget?” she asked, reaching up and running her hand over my sister’s hair.

  “I’m bleeding,” she whispered again.

  “Oh, God. Okay, don’t panic. I’ll be right back.”

  Cricket approached Ellie and they spoke in hushed whispers.

  “Hey, Spencer, do you have your keys?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “All right, we’re going into town. Grandma’s got a doctor she’s going to call for us.”

  “What about all the work I need to help her with?” Bridge asked, an edge to her voice.

  “Don’t worry about that, darlin’,” Cricket smiled. “Let’s go figure you out.”

  Bridge nodded.

  “You both stay here,” I said. “I’ll run down and get the truck for you.”

  I stood and made my way toward the door.

  “Everything okay?” Jonah asked.

  “Yeah, uh, well, Bridge might be having some complications. I need to run for my truck to take her into town.”

  Without thinking, Jonah ran across the deck, down the stairs and started his four-wheeler.

  “You’ll get there faster on this thing!” he said. “Just leave it down there with the keys in the ignition. I’ll fetch it later.”

  “Thanks, Jonah.” I was grateful to him.

  I raced down the drive, passing the cattle barn and carriage house, rounding the horse barn, then winding down the trailer’s drive. It was still pitch black, but the four-wheeler had headlights. It would have only been a seven- or eight-minute walk, but I was so anxious, walking that would have felt like a lifetime. I turned off the engine but left the keys in the ignition as Jonah had asked then propelled myself into my truck, started the engine and threw the gear in reverse before I realized I’d probably need some cash. Then I thought it would probably be a good idea to take all of it. I placed it in park and went inside, stuffing the wads of bills in a small pack.

  I drove like a banshee, but it felt like it took forever to get to the main house. I sat idle for a moment, the exhaust from the truck billowing out around me when they finally emerged. I jumped from the truck and ran up to them, helping Bridge get in, then tiny Cricket right after her. Bridge insisted on sitting in the back so she could lie down if she wanted to. We were bumbling down the road in less than a minute.

  “Thank God the roads are clear today and there’s no snow,” Cricket said, buckling herself in.

  “Is your heater working?” I asked Cricket, placing my hand over Bridge’s vent in the back to make sure hers was also heating up.

  She looked at me strangely. “Uh, yeah, it’s fine.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

  She peered behind her. Bridge was resting her head in her hand, her elbow sat on the armrest.

  “You okay?” Cricket asked.

  “I-I don’t know. We’ll see, I guess.”

  Bridge tried to sound cool but terror laced her voice.

  “Do you mind me asking? Was there a lot of blood?” Cricket asked.

  “Uh, no-yes...I don’t know.”

  “Okay, that’s okay. We’ll see what Dr. Harmon says.”

  Bridge nodded.

  Cricket turned toward me and I looked at her. We didn’t speak. I hated to have to turn back toward the road. I wanted so desperately to know what she was thinking. I wanted to blurt out all my questions, but I also didn’t want to alarm Bridge. So we drove the half-hour drive southeast into Kalispell in almost complete silence. Bridge would chime in occasionally to see how much longer or to ask if we thought everything was going to be all right. “Not long,” we’d tell her. “You’ll be fine,” we’d offer with no real idea if that was the truth.

  Finally, we entered downtown Kalispell. It was incredibly charming. Brick buildings built in the early nineteen hundreds, original cobblestone streets and the sidewalks filled with shopping people. The streetlights were still strung with garland and ribbon. It was beyond picturesque and looked like one of the last places on Earth you could photograph in black and white and people wouldn’t be able to discern whether it was turn of the century.

  “Here it is,” Cricket said, as I turned onto Main. “This is Dr. Harmon’s.”

  Bridget peeked out her window. “This looks like a drug store straight out of a Victorian-era film.”

  “Probably just a little after,” I corrected.

  Bridge speared me with a look, silently beckoning me to shut my trap.

  I got out and ran to the other side and let Bridge and Cricket out. There were two entrances, one for the drug store on the first floor and another with a narrow staircase leading to the second floor doctor’s office. We all climbed the stairs, our boots echoing in loud booms in the small enclosed space. The top of the stairs had a small landing and a frosted glass door. It read Marshall Harmon, M.D. and centered underneath his name it continued, Obstetrician-Gynecologist. Everything in me as a dude screamed to run.

  We walked in and approached a little metal desk. It looked like something you’d find in a teacher’s classroom in the fifties.

  “Cricket!” the little receptionist with the beehive chirped. Her eyes slid to Bridge and she stood. “You must be Miss Blackwell. Come on back. Dr. Harmon’s been expecting you.”

  Bridge followed her, the wood creaking beneath their feet.

  “You’re going to be all right?” Cricket asked her.

  “I’ll be fine,” Bridge offered with a small smile. She stopped. “I don’t know how long I’m going to be. You guys should run those errands, Spencer.”

  “Oh. Okay,” I said.

  I watched her walk to the room by herself, and I felt so heartbroken for her going in there alone. My mom should have been here. I hated my dad for that. I hated the boy who did it to Bridge, even if he wasn’t all to blame.

  I thought back to all the times I’d slept with a girl and not thought twice about it and my gut ached. If a girl doesn’t safeguard herself, who will? I’d always had the mentality that men will change when women change, but I never thought about how safeguarding the girls around me was just as much my responsibility as it was theirs.

  I looked over at Cricket. I studied the girl before me. She was beautiful beyond belief, but she wasn’t some object to conquer, she was someone to be cherished, someone to be loved, someone to be revered. I wondered if Ethan did all that for her. I wondered if she gave all that in return to him, and that made my blood burn in my veins. That initial attraction between us was apparent, no doubt, but I wondered if I should give up on trying. I wondered if my infatuation for her even had a future, especially because she was with Ethan.

  My mama would always say, “Whether they’re aware of it or not, if their heart beats your name, answer the call.” Stupidly, I always thought that meant any girl was pretty much open game, but I understood in that moment that it meant that nothing was ever final.

  Did I want to rock the boat, though? Her whole family loved Ethan, and everyone was being so generous by letting us hide out there. What are you doing? I asked myself. This whole thing is about Bridge. Get out. Make your future. Stop obsessing over this girl. Focus.

  “I know an outfitter just down the road. Close enough to walk,” Cricket said. “We can get you some decent working clothes if you’re up to it.”

  “That’s fine,” I said, feeling deflated.

  I followed Cricket out, knowing that although I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anyone else, she was far too out of reach. I had goals.

  I constructed a hundred-foot steel wall between us and sealed all the bolts, leaving only Bridge and myself on my side. Who cared if I could still hear Cricket’s heart b
eating my name loudly as a drum on the other side?

  At the outfitter, Cricket helped me find a couple pairs of decent jeans. I refused the Wranglers because I looked ridiculous. She also found a few shirts, long johns (I’m not shitting you), a wool-lined suede jacket, which seemed pretty standard among the other hands, and two pairs of sturdy work boots. I’d noticed most of the ranch hands would wear a bandana-like scarf instead of anything long. I assumed this was for practical reasons and told Cricket I’d like the same as well.

  She came up with a couple of cowboy hats, but I couldn’t bring myself to wear one. I looked comical in them. I tried one on and did a little jig, trying to lighten the moment. Cricket laughed and my gut twisted. I took it off immediately, desperate to get her lovely voice out of my head.

  I settled for a fleece-lined visor beanie instead. She said those were pretty common around the ranch, so I wouldn’t stand out or anything, to which I was grateful. I didn’t want to stand out anymore than I already was.

  “What about chaps?” I asked.

  She looked at me, waiting for a cheeky remark, but I held a stoic expression. She cleared her throat. “We’ve got a million pairs back at home. Ellie makes them herself.”

  “No shit! She’s pretty talented.”

  “At everything she does.”

  I nodded.

  “I’ll pay for these then,” I said, dragging the rest of the stuff toward the front.

  While I paid, in cash of course, I heard Cricket’s phone ring.

  “Hello?” Her breathing picked up, making my heart race. “Okay. Okay. Sure.” She brought the phone to me. “It’s August.”

  “August?” I asked, nervous. “What’s up, dude?”

  “Dude, your dad is crazy,” he began.

  “Shit. What happened?” My lungs deflated.

  “I get home, right? I walk into the room and this guy with weird old-fashioned spectacles is sitting at my desk like he fucking owns the place.”

  “My dad?”

  “No, dumbass, this big scary-looking fucker with fucking black leather gloves on and shit. Like he’s getting ready to blow my ass away or some shit. Man, it was intimidating.”