by A. C. Wilson
He read what she wrote and then clicked off his phone. Now instead of feeling optimistic about the evening, he felt rather deflated. Reaching over his shoulder for the seatbelt, Garrett hardened his resolve to speak openly with Rayne as soon as he got back to the ranch. He was going to stop for a bottle of his favorite whiskey. If it was going to go from bad to worse, he figured numb might have its perks.
Garrett drove the last few miles towards Randall Ranch and the woman, who was frustrating as hell, but he loved. There was no denying it, even to himself. This is what he had been running from all those years. This is why he had dumped all those girls anticipating more than he was willing to give. This was the deliberate anguish he was trying to avoid, because his heart felt like it might be ripped from his chest. He eyed the brown paper bag in the front seat of his truck.
Crown. Smooth and effective.
“What in the hell?” He smacked his palm on the steering wheel as he pulled between the two posts and drove into the yard. The sun had long set and his bright head lights glinted off a truck parked in the drive. His chest swelled with indignation and uncertainty. There was someone else putting more weight on Rayne’s mind than just this cowboy. Rayne’s ex-husband was attracted to women he couldn’t have.
Was Rayne back on his radar? Garrett thought so. He threw the truck into park as soon as it stopped, grabbed the paper sack, and slid to the ground. His boots crunched in the packed snow. The heavy truck door slammed closed. He took long, purposeful strides until he reached the porch stairs just ten steps away. The kitchen light shone onto the snow from the small curtain-less window. He stopped on the lower stair with his hand on the rounded post. Garrett couldn’t stop his eyes from searching for any glimpse of life in the house. His gut twisted, his breathing shallow. The air came out of his lungs in puffs against the cold night.
Nothing happened. He couldn’t see any movement in the house from his dismal view into the kitchen. Still his imagination nagged at him. It prodded him to rush into the house, proverbial guns blazing. He was hard-pressed to acknowledge that a physical gun blazing dwelled in a sliver of that proverbial talk. Swallowing hard, Garrett put first one boot on the step and then the next until he reached the top. Two more steps and he would be at the door. It all happened in slow motion. The front door was flung open and a rather pissed off Rayne stood there. The moment of surprise that passed over her tight features told him that she had no idea Garrett was even here. Her golden eyes sparked as she turned to the side stiffly and pointed ruthlessly out the door.
“Out! Damn it!” She half yelled, half screamed in frustration at the unrepentant man behind her. Royal paused seeing Garrett, but valuing his own life, Rayne’s ex-husband marched past her and onto the porch.
“Rayne, you have to understand. You’re taking this the wrong way as always.” Royal added the end as he tapped his heel on the wood porch. She glared at him as if that look alone would melt the flesh off his body. Garrett almost wondered if it wouldn’t.
“This is not your place. I am not your concern ANYMORE!” She fairly yelled at him, her face whitening as she exerted her temper. Garrett felt like a fly on the wall and more than a bit blindsided by what he’d just happened to walk into.
What did you think? Rayne would be a damsel in distress? Hardly. Still he waited for some way to step in. Royal braced a hand on the railing as he was halfway down the stairs towards his truck. Rayne stood her ground, her hands on her waist. Her chest was heaving with the exertion of being so angry.
“You just don’t want to admit it. I know you like no one else does. That counts for something.” Royal said calmly, his chin lifted in challenge.
“Bullshit. You knew what you wanted to know. It’s the same with every male I’ve ever known! Something could smack you up the backside of your head and you’d still not acknowledge it unless it benefited you!” Rayne fairly screamed at him, the force making her step closer. Garrett was on the fence about restraining her. She looked like she could melt the flesh from his face with just the heat from her eyes. He’d probably have a good laugh at it later, but right now she looked terrifying.
“Oh get off the rag, Rayne! You’re not even reasonable when it’s that time of the month.” Royal deserved the solid smack that he got from a small palm. The crack made Garrett take notice and it caught Royal completely off guard. The thing that made Garrett’s gut twist was the tears that welled up in those golden eyes he loved so much.
“Son of a bitch! Go back to Kansas.” Her voice was so soft, but the lightening in the words ricocheted. She clenched her fist, looked down at it and turned to go back into the house. Royal opened his mouth to speak to her, but Garrett stepped in to block Rayne from view as she left them both on the porch. Garrett stared into the green eyes of Rayne’s ex-husband. They stayed that way for more than a minute. The silence crackling between them.
“What was that all about, Royal?” Garrett tipped his hat brim back and added, “You deserved that slap.”
“She didn’t like what I came to say to her.” Royal’s flippant attitude irritated Garrett. Brown eyes widened and then narrowed.
“Obviously, I’m interested in is what you came to say to her.” Garrett stared down the Kansas vet and then shook his head when Royal looked down at the boards of the porch. “You came to get her back, didn’t you?” Garrett couldn’t think of any other reason that Rayne would be so upset.
“Can you blame me? She wanted the divorce, not me. I still care for her.” Royal leaned his back up against the railing as he stared out into the night. The light from the kitchen window made the snow sparkle. Garrett took a steadying breath. He considered what Royal had to say.
“Let her go, Royal. There’s nothing here for you. Rayne and I are together.” Garrett tried to be reasonable. It never ended well if his temper got the best of him, but it lurked under the surface just the same. He couldn’t blame Royal for still having feelings for Rayne. She would be a hard one to forget.
“Why get in the way of something as natural as the connection between a husband and a wife?” Royal asked, a half grin curving his lips. Garrett swallowed the words that almost spouted out.
“Ex-husband and ex-wife, Royal. You are no longer married to her. You no longer have a say about who she sees or what she does.” Garrett applauded his restraint. He thought he might be able to like Royal, but as of this moment, the man had pushed the envelope a bit too far. There were lines that just shouldn’t be crossed and this was one of them.
“You can’t change the natural order of events, Garrett. I slept with her first. I created a child with her first. I married her first.” Royal’s cockiness was more than Garrett could take and before he knew what had actually happened, his fist connected with Royal’s jaw. The pain that exploded in Garrett’s hand was less than what he suspected Royal’s face felt. That inner satisfaction staved off the rest of the burning in his hand.
“You also divorced her first, Royal.” Garrett reached forward and grabbed Royal’s shoulder. He lowered his voice. “You’ve lost. Now get the hell off this ranch or a sore jaw is the least of your worries.” The threat was enough to make Royal’s green eyes widen and a very slow nod followed. Garrett gave him a shove towards his pickup and watched until Royal had gotten inside and drove away. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, gathering a deep breath and his Crown, he walked into the kitchen. A glance around the kitchen told him that dinner was done, but his girl was nowhere to be seen. He listened for anything that might make a sound, but there was none. He took off his hat and coat to leave them by the door.
“Rayne?” His voice was tentative. He didn’t like sounding unsure, but he was. He was completely uncertain about his position now. “Rayne?” He stuck his head into the living room and saw her sitting on the stairs, her back to the rooms above. Her elbows were on her knees and her chin in her hands.
“I really don’t feel like talking tonight, Garrett.” Her voice was scratchy and her usually bright eyes were dulled with
worry and tears. He hated it. It tore at his insides like a wildcat with its claws. He stepped onto the bottom stair and noticed her flinch at his advance. He held back without moving.
“He’ll never deserve you, darlin’. A man who cheats like that will never change.” His chest tightened as he spoke the words.
Some cats never changed their stripes, but some could, couldn’t they? An age old question that never had a direct and easy answer. Surely Rayne knew that Royal wouldn’t give up other women, even if Royal readily gave his heart to Rayne.
“I’m not a good judge of who deserves what. All I know is I don’t know what I want.” She bit her lip and lowered her eyes. Her chin still sat fully in her hands. Garrett itched to pull her into his arms and take away every emotion but desire. She hid in it and thrived in it. He knew he could drown all her sorrows and ill feelings for the evening.
Perhaps daylight will reveal a whole new outlook. Perhaps it wouldn’t. Everything about her and him was a risk. There was very little to calculate and even less to hedge.
“Tell me what feels right, Rayne. Tell me if what we have together feels right.” He laid a hand over his heart and felt its beat against his palm. “There’s no thinking involved. Not in this.” He gestured between them. He was on a precipice now. Nothing at the bottom but a deep, black abyss that looked decidedly bottomless. He saw her hands tremble.
“You’re a good man, Garrett.” A tear slipped down her cheek. His stomach turned. “I can’t tell you that there is anything left for you in me. I can’t tell you what you want to hear.” She’d sold out. She’d given up. It was suddenly so hard to breathe. She couldn’t look at him and it underlined the fragility of what he felt for her. Her denial could very well be a death knell to what they had created.
“I see.” It was all he could say. It was all he could whisper as he backed away from the stairs. If she had wanted to push him away, she’d done an effective job of it. He couldn’t remember feeling so beat down. He couldn’t remember feeling like he’d been robbed of the only treasure he had ever touched. Suddenly the house seemed too small. He turned towards the kitchen to retrieve his coat and hat. Garrett didn’t even bother to button his coat as he opened the door and rushed out into the cold that stole his breath. Pausing to take a deep breath on the stairs, Garrett tried to shove the weight of his thoughts back. He couldn’t go home in case his parents asked questions. Nora was having issues of her own. That left the hotel in town or Matt’s place. It was hardly a choice. He got into his Dodge, started up the engine, and drove from the yard with a roar.
Anywhere, but here. It was all he could think. It became a chant in his head. It was the only thing he allowed himself to think as he drove the twenty minutes to Matt and Andy’s house. Garrett knew his brother well enough. He wouldn’t ask what was wrong or what had happened.
At least not until tomorrow. Hopefully by then he could form a new plan. He wasn’t a quitter. He hadn’t lost the war. He had only lost the battle.
Oh, but what a painful battle to lose.
Chapter 21
Rayne hiccupped after pulling her lips away from the rounded edge of the bottle. She swallowed the liquid that had ceased to taste like anything and covered her mouth with the back of her hand. For the last couple hours she had been drinking, she was still surprised that she couldn’t quite swallow the lump that had taken residence in her throat. She shivered involuntarily, goose flesh rising on her upper arms. The cold breeze from outside was an unpleasant reminder of how she’d stood on the porch in the icy winter night and watched Garrett’s tail lights fade into the distance. Her heavy lids drifted closed for a few seconds. Her head felt like it was filled with water, heavy and pulled by incomprehensive tides. Rayne didn’t know how long she’d stood on the porch in just her jeans and long sleeved shirt. Her toes were numb in the thin socks and her fingers had begun to ache. Realizing that Garrett wasn’t going to gallantly waltz back in, she’d turned towards the only light she could see. Dim as it was and as cold as it was, she still walked back into the kitchen. The brown bag on the counter had been a distraction. The dark bottle with its contents was even more of a boon. Sliding down to the yellow laminate floor, it was there she had stayed. The kitchen door wide open. The bottle of Crown in her hands. Her head thrown back to rest against the ugly cupboards.
“What the hell…?” A loud voice boomed from above her. She slammed her eyes shut and grimaced with the resounding echo that made her head explode. Rayne thought the next loud sound was the kitchen door closing, but she couldn’t be sure. It all sounded like a herd of angry buffalo stampeding through her kitchen. Once there was a moment somewhat quiet, she peeked through the slits of her eyelids. Frustrated by the fuzziness of the objects around her, Rayne released her hold on the Crown bottle in her lap. It tipped over, but very little liquid spilled out. She would have felt bad, she thought, if there had been a spill. It would have been a glorious waste of a drink capable of easing her hammering thoughts. Heck it was giving her the power to sleep unburdened by the mess she had created.
Indeed a miracle cure. She swallowed again, her mouth feeling as if she’d a wad of cotton inside it. Rayne hiccupped again. Something heavy dropped over her and she groaned in protest. Hands cupped both sides of her face. She jerked away from the touch, but in doing so her head banged back into the cupboards. Her brain felt something like a snow globe turned upside down and shaken to reveal a mass of swirling flakes of glitter.
“Rayne, honey, we need to get you into the living room. Can you move?” The voice sounded so far away, but familiar too. She squinted her eyes, trying to discern the blurry figure before her.
“Mom?” Rayne asked with a whiskey slur. Warm hands grasped her elbow and tried to help her up off the floor. It took a couple of tries before Rayne could get to her feet, which seemed to belong to someone else right about now.
“Nope. I’m not your mother, honey. Good grief, you are freezing!” The soft voice was pleasant and gentle. They bumped into the door jamb as the Good Samaritan tried to get her back into her bed.
“’s not so bad.” Rayne slurred again and began closing her eyes. Her head felt so heavy. Her knees started to buckle. “So sleepy.” Rayne wanted only to sleep. To lose herself in the liquor induced oblivion that seemed so damned wonderful at the moment.
“No, no, not yet!” The strong hands shook her shoulder, a quick jolt to move towards the mattress that still lay on the floor. Rayne focused on it, wondering just how far away it was.
It seems miles away. One foot after another, she concentrated on the chant. One slippery curse after another came from her burdened crutch. After tripping over the ragged edge of a rug and banging into the arm of the couch, Rayne fell onto the mattress with a thud. It might have been a concrete slab and she’d still have passed out. Her eyes closed before she even had the chance to say thank you.
It was morning. Well to be more certain about it, it was at least daylight. Rayne couldn’t open her eyes as widely as they needed in order for her to decide what time it really was. All she knew was it was entirely too bright in the living room of the ranch house. She tried to swallow. She nearly gagged. Her tongue felt like it was five sizes too big and that all the moisture had been sucked out of her mouth. She lifted her hands to her face just to see if it was as puffy as it felt.
Oh hell! It was. In truth it felt more like a punching bag and that a pissy feline had tried to scratch out her eyeballs. She wished it had been a cat. Still the anguish that filled her heart when recalling exactly what had happened last night with Garrett nearly gutted her. She’d finally ran out of tears.
Or they had frozen in her sockets while she stood on the porch. It might have been possible. She remembered the beginning of the Crown bottle, but not where it had ended. She had no idea why she hadn’t passed out on the kitchen floor.
“Welcome back to the land of the sober.” A sassy female voice said from somewhere behind Rayne. Rolling over onto her back, Rayne shielded her eyes fro
m the light streaming in from the windows.
“What time is it?” Rayne’s voice was gravelly and soft. She really needed some water.
“It’s after noon already. You’ve slept nearly twelve hours.” Footsteps sounded on the wood floor. Each one ringing like a gong in Rayne’s head. She pressed the tips of her fingers to her temple and groaned.
“Oh I’m miserable.” Rayne whined, squeezing her eyes closed as tightly as she could.
“A bottle of Crown will do that to you. I’d advise not trying it again.” The chuckle that followed charged a memory for Rayne. She peered up at her visitor, alternating eyes until they weren’t blurry any more.
“Nora. At the risk of sounding ungrateful, what are you doing here?” Rayne coughed as she thought about sitting up. Pulling the covers over her legs, she made it up onto her elbows.
“Funny story actually. I was at home, wondering what I was going to do with my evening when Andy calls me and tells me that Garrett showed up at her house.” Nora plopped down on the foot of the mattress and leaned back on her elbow. Rayne groaned. “Andy told me that he was in no mood to talk and that she just knew something bad had happened. So she called the cavalry, my dear, and here I am.” Nora fell all the way down onto her back and blew out a long breath. Rayne remained half upright. All the feelings of last night crash landed on top of her.
“He’s not ok, is he?” Rayne asked the question knowing that answer anyway.
Of course Garrett isn’t all right. You aren’t all right either.
“From the way Andy described him, I’ve never seen him in worse shape and I was around for the McCoy meltdown.” Nora sighed pitifully, crossing her legs that dangled off the side of the bed.
“McCoy meltdown?” Rayne asked, the fuzz starting to clear from her head. She watched Garrett’s older sister press her lips together and half nod.
“That’s how our family refers to it.” Nora cleared her throat and creased her brow. Clearly she was wondering if she should explain the ins and outs of a family matter. Rayne wanted to know if it concerned Garrett. Her inner demons taunted her about wanting to know something so personal about a guy she kept pushing away. “Lena McCoy was Garrett’s first real girlfriend in high school. If you could have seen him then, he looked at her like she’d just walked out of his dreams. Poor guy was smitten from the first time she gave him the time of day.” Nora sat up and rolled her eyes. “Lena was too pretty by half. She knew the affect she had on guys and she’d hooked Garrett with a stiff barb. No amount of friendly warning even from Matt and me did any good in opening his eyes to her.” Nora sighed.