by M. Leighton
But I don’t.
For one reason.
Celina.
I came back here for her. She’s the one and only reason, and I won’t let her down now.
When I don’t say anything for a while, Dane jabs, “Nothing to say?”
I measure my words carefully. “I’m not sure you’ll believe the truth. Sounds like your mind is made up to hate me no matter what. Is it even worth it for me to sit here and tell you what happened? Will it even make a difference?”
At that, Dane’s expression melts into a frown, but this one is more confused than hostile. “Maybe. Guess it depends on what you say. Maybe there was a good reason and if there was… I’m not a complete asshole, you know.”
“No, just a partial asshole.”
I don’t laugh. Don’t even smile. And neither does he. He just shrugs and says, “Touché.”
I sigh and pull my legs under me, folding my hands on my lap. Now would be the perfect opportunity to tell him about Celina, but my heart is telling me to wait. Not only is he not ready, but I could be setting Celina up for some major heartbreak. I need to talk to her first, and then decide if Dane is even the type of person she needs in her life right now.
Is that the right choice? I don’t know. All I know is that I’m doing the best that I can with what I have in this moment.
“Alton…he caught me sneaking in one night when I’d been out with you. I was fifteen. He was waiting for me in my room. He didn’t do anything, but he was…inappropriate. He threatened me, too. Told me if I didn’t stay away from you, he’d ruin you, your father, and me. And that you’d hate me for it.” It’s my turn to shrug. “I believed him. He was a monster, plain and simple.
“I did my best to steer clear of you. You know that much. And I did for a while. Two years, in fact, but then…then…I don’t know what happened. I guess I was too deeply in love with you to stay away anymore. And then we…” I don’t know what to call it. At the time, I thought we were making love. To me, that’s still what we did. But to Dane, I have a feeling it was something different. I’m not sure he looks back and sees any love there now. “Right after that, one night he came into my room and tried to… He climbed on top of me, told me that if I was giving it away to trash for free, he’d take some.”
I don’t know when the tears started. I’m only aware of them dripping off my chin and making warm splats onto the hands curled into fists. The hurt of what that man put me through will never completely go away.
Dane has been utterly silent up to now, and the only thing he says is a low, growling, dangerous, “Did he…?”
I sniff. “No. Momma must’ve heard me screaming and she came to the door. She made him… He stopped before anything worse happened. He told me to get out, to be gone by morning, and never tell a soul or he’d destroy you and your father. He made sure to point out that you’d end up hating me for ruining both your lives, not to bother telling you. I was afraid he was right. So I left.”
We sit in the quiet for several long minutes, just the frogs croaking in the distance. Finally, Dane gets up and walks to the edge of the rock and stares off into the darkness. I see him run a hand through his hair and I hear something—maybe some swearing—hiss through his teeth. I stay put, though, and patiently wait for him to return. I just dropped a bomb. Not the bomb, but a bomb. He’ll need time to think about it. Maybe it’s enough to keep him from hating me.
At least until I tell him about Celina. Then we’ll be right back to square one.
But that’s another worry, another fight for another day.
It seems an hour has passed when Dane finally returns to where I’m sitting. He stops in front of me and drops his hand toward me. “Can I walk you home?”
I guess he’s had enough for one night, too.
I look from his hand to his eyes and back again. They’re coal black in the dark, coal black and unreadable.
I nod, slipping my fingers into his and letting him help me up. We walk to the edge of the boulder and Dane hops down then turns back to offer his hand again. Again, I take it.
He releases it once my feet are on the ground, and we begin the walk back to my house.
The silence is too big, too loaded for me. My nerves can’t take it, so I strike up a conversation that has nothing do with me or why I left or what happened to make me go. “What were you doing out here tonight? Working late?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have to walk me back then. Go get your truck and—”
“I walked over. From my house. It’s just across the river. I took the foot bridge.”
“Oh. How long have you lived there?” I don’t remember a house being over there, but maybe I’ve just forgotten.
“Brinkley, I…” Dane pauses, scrubbing a hand over his face before he starts again. “I’m really sorry about what happened. I didn’t know. Obviously. I guess I… I was pretty hurt. I thought we’d leave here together, and when you…”
“I thought we would, too.” My words are quiet, pained.
“I…I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. You had every reason to be angry with me.”
He nods distractedly, but I already see a change in him. All the fury and resentment, all the hostility and sourness he displayed before…it’s curiously absent. Maybe his hate doesn’t run as deep as his love did. At least I’m hoping that’s the case.
When we reach the place where field meets driveway, Dane stops. “Why didn’t you come back?”
His question isn’t angry or accusatory; it sounds more like he’s trying to wrap his head around what happened so long ago.
“He told me not to. Alton said if I came back, the same thing applied. I didn’t want to risk it. To push him. That man had an evil streak.”
At that, Dane looks over at me. I see that the angles and planes of his face have become a dark, foreboding landscape. There was no love lost between Dane and Alton.
“I didn’t know how much until it was too late.”
“D-did something else happen?”
My pulse picks up. Did Alton do something to him or to his dad anyway? Something I know nothing about? Clearly, he didn’t kick them off the property, but he’d probably dreamed up a dozen different ways to hurt people. That’s just the kind of man he was.
For a second, Dane looks like he’s seething, but then his lips curve into a tight, polite smile. “That’s a story for another day.”
“Will there be another day?”
The words are out before I can stop them. And as soon as they are, I bite down on my tongue for being the traitorous demon that it is. Why, why, why would you ask that, Brinkley? You’re playing with fire.
“Do you want there to be?”
I don’t respond right away, even though I know what I want to say immediately. “I think that would be okay.”
I exhale in relief at my good, very casual answer. That’s better. Maybe my brain hasn’t completely left the premises.
He nods. “Then I’ll see you around.”
“Okay. G’night, Dane.”
“Night.”
I turn and start walking so that I don’t watch him as he goes. I’ve watched Dane James walk away one too many times.
Chapter 24
I’m holding a laptop, working on an expense sheet for my personal finances, skimpy though they are, as I bask in the sun on the front porch. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sit here and daydream like usual. I’ve found that every spare minute when my mind isn’t busy, it goes straight to Dane James. This is my way of being productive and keeping my sanity.
I’m crunching numbers in my head, squinting into the noonday sun when I see a lone figure cutting through the field. His arms are bared by a tank top stretched across a wide chest, and I can see a swath of denim on his lower half before it melts into blades of wheat. His jeans are held up by a belt with a chunky buckle, and I know his legs end in dusty old boots. All he lacks is the cowboy hat.
Sweet mother.
Even after all these years, after all that’s happened, it still gives me butterflies to see him walking toward me, big as day.
I watch his broad shoulders as they sway ever so slightly with each step he takes. Even though I can’t see them clearly from this distance, I know that his eyes are trained on me. They’re making the butterflies worse.
I don’t take my gaze off him. It’s rude to stare, I know, but I don’t think I could not watch him right now.
He gets closer and closer until he’s standing at the edge of the field, where he left me last night, and he pauses. From there, he continues to stare silently at me, and I stare silently right back.
What is he thinking? What does he want?
What do I want?
That’s easy—to go back. To go back in time. To undo, and redo. To do better.
Only that’s the one thing I can’t have. Possibly one of many.
Eventually, he resumes his walk, crossing the driveway and not stopping until he’s standing in front of the porch. He doesn’t mount the stairs; he just puts one foot on the bottom step and hooks a thumb in his front pocket. He looks like a picture from a magazine, or a movie poster, right down to the prairie grass twirling in his lips.
“You busy?”
I shake my head.
“Wanna go for a walk?”
Another belly flip, but I still manage to shrug with nonchalance. “Sure.”
He nods, twirling that piece of grass with his tongue, his eyes trained steadily on me, burning me up. My skin starts to warm up. Sweet mother of all that’s holy, no one should be that sexy.
Dane James was always sexy, but was he always this sexy? Or is it just that he’s a full-grown man now, and a little bit of age brings its own kind of hotness? I don’t know. I only know that he’s tearing my insides up, standing there like that. And by the way his lips are curling up at the edges as I stare at him like a witless wonder, I think he probably knows it, too.
I snap out of it, forcing myself to look away. I push my laptop shut. “Let me take this inside and grab some shoes. I’ll be right back.”
I call up to Celina that I’ll be back in a few minutes, set my laptop on the dining room table, grab my shoes by the door, and make my way back outside.
Dane is standing with his back to me now, giving me the perfect shot of his butt. Of the few things that haven’t changed at all since I left, Dane James’ legendary ass is one of them.
“Ready,” I announce as I jog down to meet him. “Where are we going?”
“Toward the river. Got something to show you.”
“Okay.” I can’t imagine what it might be, but I’m more than willing to find out. This is a huge step forward, it seems. Apparently, Dane thought about what I said last night and decided that maybe it’s worth giving me the benefit of the doubt.
At least I hope that’s what happened.
“So, how’s the business going?”
“Fine.”
“You ever gonna tell me how you ended up with this place? I never would’ve seen that coming.”
“Yeah, me neither. Especially not like it did.”
“Momma said you bought it when Alton died.”
Dane slides me a look from the corner of his eye. “Is that what she said?”
“Well, something like that. She was being really weird about it. Is that not what happened?”
Dane looks off into the distance, his jaw muscle flexing as his lips twirl that thin piece of grass. “Did you ever wonder why your stepdaddy hated me so much?”
My brows draw together. “I wouldn’t say he hated you.”
That’s a lie. Alton hated Dane. With a passion.
Dane sends me a dubious glare. “Brinkley, come on.”
On a sigh, I confess, “Okay, fine. He hated you. But truly, I never did know why.”
“Me either. Not for a long, long time. Not until my father died.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss, by the way. I meant to tell you that.”
“Thanks. He’s better off. His life… It wasn’t the best.”
“I thought he was happy.”
“I did, too, until I found out the truth.”
“The truth?”
Dane inhales so deeply, his tank top looks like it might rip across the front. When he exhales, he reaches up and grabs the piece of grass, throws it aside. For some reason, that gesture speaks to me. It’s almost like he spat. It seemed…angry.
“Zane, he…he wasn’t my father.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I mean the reason Alton hated me is because I was his son.”
I stop and turn so abruptly my head spins a little. “What?”
The lines of Dane’s face are pinched. His lips are drawn thin and his brow is drawn low. “Yep. Turns out, I’m more one of them than I ever wanted to be.”
“But how? I mean…how?”
“When he died, Zane, I mean, there was a letter addressed to me in with his will. Turns out, he was part owner in Alton’s operation. They had more history than anyone ever knew about. Alton just managed to buy his way into covering it up.
“My mother, Elizabeth, was one of the Shepherd’s Mill elite. She dated Alton and they were supposed to be married. You know how they match-make in this town. I guess I got my rebellious streak from her, though, because she fell in love with a common worker, a guy who worked Alton’s father’s fields.” He slides a squinted look at me. “I guess history really does have a way of repeating itself. At least as far as Alton could see.”
Now I understand why Alton hated the idea of me with Dane. It hit way too close to home.
“Your mother…and Alton?”
He nods. “Her parents were thrilled with the match, of course. His, too. You know how that goes. But she gave it all up to be with Zane. Her parents denounced her, wouldn’t have anything to do with her, or me, and Alton…well, he didn’t take it very well either, evidently. He…he forced himself on her. Took what he said was his, before she could give it away to the ‘trash’.” He glances over at me again. This time his eyes are flashing hotly in the sun. “Sound familiar?”
I pale, feeling so sorry for the woman who suffered so much.
“That’s how I came along. That’s what I’m born from. His hate. His violence.” His teeth are tightly gritted when he adds, “I hate that man. Christ Almighty, I hate him.”
I can practically feel the emotion emanating from Dane. Once I walked this path with a boy whose sadness reached out and touched me. Today, twenty years later, I’m walking it with the man, but it’s his fury I feel.
“Did you confront Alton? What did he say?”
“I went to his house the night I found out. Your mother was there, but Alton wasn’t. I went storming in and I…I said some things I probably shouldn’t have. But I was just so damn mad. I could’ve killed him with my bare hands.” Dane raises those hands and clenches his fingers into tight fists. The skin turns white and he shakes with fury. “It was probably a good thing he was gone. He avoided me like the plague. Until I went back with the papers from the court to claim my half of the company.”
I gasp. “What? Are you serious?”
“Yep. When my mother found out she was pregnant, she wasn’t going to tell Alton, but she started to show and, well…there was no hiding that. He demanded to know if the kid was his. When he found out I was, he gave her one last chance to do the ‘right thing,’ but she wanted to stay with my dad, with Zane. So Alton set out to get his revenge. He threatened her, told her he’d ruin her, ruin the baby, ruin Zane. They’d be homeless and penniless and he’d hate her. Pretty much the same shit he told you, from the sounds of it. She fought it as long as she could, but I guess it became too much. She ended up taking an overdose after I was born. Alton must’ve been freaking out, because he tried to cover his tracks. That’s why he struck the deal with Zane. A thirty percent share of the fields in exchange for his silence and for raising me as hi
s own. So Dad did. Because I was part my mother’s and he loved her. He never told a soul, not until after he was gone.”
Puzzle pieces start to fall into place. Why Alton hated me with Dane, why he singled him out, why he called me Elizabeth the night he came to my room. He was drunk and he thought I was her.
I’m dumbfounded.
I’m furious.
But I’m also so heartbroken for the woman who gave birth to Dane. I feel like I can relate to her in so many different ways. In her shoes, I hope I’d be able to do the right thing, too. I hope I did. I kept my baby. At least I didn’t let Alton bully me into aborting her.
“I…I don’t even know what to say to that. He’s…he’s…God, he was so despicable.”
I feel anger rising in me now, too. He used lies to manipulate me. He knew there was nothing he could do to Dane or his father, but I didn’t. And he was counting on that. He was counting on my love for Dane to force my hand.
And it worked.
I’m still trying to wrap my brain around it. “So he could never have forced you and your father off the farm. All that I did, all that I gave up, all the choices I made and the people I’ve hurt…it was all for nothing.”
Dane stands mutely beside me as my world is being shaken to its foundation.
“He…he used my love for you against me. To keep me quiet, to punish you for…for being his son when his mother didn’t want him. He stole…he stole fifteen years from me, from us, from—” I stop myself, my rage mounting. “He…he… Oh, God!”
I resume walking. I can’t stand still. I can hardly stand to even be in my own skin. I’m so angry, and I feel so betrayed, so deceived, so cheated, I want to hit something, kick something, destroy something. Anything to release the pressure that’s building up inside me.
As I stomp along, I run my hands up into my hair. “How could I be so blind? How could I have let him do that? How? Why would anyone do that?”
Dane growls from beside me. “That’s just the kind of bastard he was.”
I turn and look into his face. I see a perfect reflection of the helpless fury I feel. If Alton were alive, I feel like I could kill him for this, but I won’t ever have that chance. I won’t ever even be able to confront him, to tell him I hope he burns for what he’s done.