by Mary Leo
The one saving grace in all of this was, in fact, her beautiful son. She knew he would be devastated if the riding lessons suddenly stopped or he couldn’t see Chase again, but she would find a way to deal with that if and when it happened.
Her darling Jayden had been happy to see her earlier that night when she picked him up from Pearl’s house. She’d held him so tight he’d squirmed to get out of her grasp.
Both Pearl and Tyler had wanted her to stay, telling her they had something vital to tell her, but she couldn’t stay—wouldn’t stay. She hadn’t cared when Tyler had told her that it concerned Lucky. She wouldn’t listen. Nothing mattered but the pain she’d caused Chase—the pain Clark had caused him by keeping that jacket.
Clark had known she’d been involved with Chase’s accident. He may have not known how, but he knew. Yet he’d kept the truth from Chase. Kept it hidden, just like her mom’s opioid addiction.
Secrets.
Lies.
Omissions.
Secrets that now threatened to destroy a man, to destroy her and her beautiful son.
“Why did he keep that jacket?” RuthieAnn said out loud. “What could he possibly have been thinking? And why the hell didn’t he tell Chase what he found? You old bastard. You should have burned it.”
Yet there it was, still in the box from some dry cleaner’s in Phoenix, sitting on the coffee table next to the bag of money, the pictures, and everything else she’d collected from her dad. What she couldn’t understand was why had he gone all the way to Phoenix to get her jacket cleaned, and then paid for storage for it for five years?
She couldn’t come to terms with that. Couldn’t reason it out.
Even now, even with everything that had happened, she couldn’t destroy that damn jacket. It was the only link to her mom—to her past—to Chase.
She’d been staring at it ever since she’d put Jayden down, thinking about its history—about her mom lying outside all night in the cold—about Chase lying on the ground, broken and next to death. How she’d slipped it on over her white nightgown before she ran out of the house that morning, worried that she might get blood stains on it from the swollen cut lip that Lucky had given her when he’d punched her for running out of coffee that morning. Wondering how she would ever get those stains out of her mom’s jacket.
Running.
Just running.
She picked up her phone and dialed Chase’s number once again, and once again he didn’t pick up. This time, she decided to leave him a message. This time she decided to tell him the truth hoping that he’d listen . . . that he’d calm down and listen. Maybe then he could forgive her. Maybe then this whole thing could be over.
“Hi, it’s me,” she began. “You deserve to hear the truth, and this is the only way I can think of to tell you. Please listen. Please. I’m so sorry, Chase. Sorry for everything.”
She told him about Lucky beating her that morning, and about her mom’s jacket. Then she took a deep breath and went on.
“I was hoping someone would pick me up along the road before Lucky saw me and forced me to come back. I didn’t want to go back . . . ever. Not to my dad and not to Lucky.
“So I ran until my feet were bleeding, until I reached the road. Until I could wave someone down who could take me away, far away from Wild Creek.
“A couple cars passed me that morning, both of them slowing, then driving on once they saw my face. I could feel that it was swollen, bruised and cut up. He’d done it before, so it was nothing new. Lucky liked to use me as his personal punching bag before I could lock myself in my room. He hated when I did that. It only made him angrier. He’d punched me several times before I’d been able to get away from him and lock myself in my room.
“I don’t know who those people were who’d stopped to check me out. I couldn’t see into their cars. Rain and tears blurred my vision. But I never blamed them for not stopping. They were probably scared. Scared of what might happen to them if they attempted to pick up a broken and battered girl. So they drove away.
“It was you, Chase, who had the courage to stop, who turned your bike around for me. I recognized your bike. That beautiful black Harley with the fire decals stuck to the rear fender. I knew this brave man from seeing you in town. Knew you were Draven’s Cooper’s older brother. I remember how relieved I felt as you approached, pushing your wrap-around sunglasses up on your head so I could see your handsome face. I knew I would be safe now that a Cooper boy had stopped to pick me up, to take me away . . . far away. The Coopers were good people. Everyone knew that.
“Just as I was about to hop on your bike, I heard Lucky’s car coming up the road. The muffler had a problem, a hole or something, I never knew for sure, only that it made a noise and I recognized the sound. Then, before I could warn you, Chase, before I could think of what to say or do, the next few moments slowed way down. As if someone had hit a button somewhere that put everything, even my heartbeat into slow motion. I saw Lucky speed up and head straight for me . . . straight for us.
“I screamed for you to look out, but for some reason you didn’t react to my warning. Instead, you reached out and shoved me out of the way, and just stood there, facing Lucky. You were defiant. Bold. Audacious. As if you were made of steel and nothing could harm you.
“But I knew the truth. Lucky would kill anyone who got in his way.
“Just as I fell backwards onto the rough shoulder, Lucky plowed straight ahead. You soared into the air and came down hard on the hood of his car, leaving a large dent, then you rolled off and your shoulder hit the upright handlebars on your bike that had fallen over on its side. Your hips and legs somehow got caught under the bike’s wheels as Lucky kept driving forward.
“I screamed for him to stop but it was several more horrifying feet before he did. I got up and ran over to you, Chase, hoping against hope that you were still alive, still breathing.
“I remember that the stones and glass pierced through my knees as I knelt on the ground next to you. The pain was almost unbearable, but I willed myself to stay there. I wouldn’t get up until I knew you were alive.
“I bent over your face, hoping to shelter you from the rain that had intensified. Your glasses were crushed under the weight of a wheel, so I couldn’t use those to shelter your eyes. Your beautiful body was all twisted in weird angles and I felt sick to my stomach just looking at you.
“You tried to open your eyes, but the rain got in your way. Without giving it much thought, I took off my mom’s jacket, the only thing I had of hers, and shoved it under your head. All I could think of was to try to make you comfortable. Try to keep you alive. I leaned farther over you, blocking the rain from hitting your beautiful face, and brushed the water from your eyes.
“I told you that it was going to be all right. Do you remember that? That I had you and it would be all right.
“But that was just wishful thinking on my part.
“I remember that you smiled then, you opened your beautiful eyes and smiled up at me, like I was your savior. I wasn’t. I wasn’t anyone’s savior.
“That’s when Lucky grabbed the back of my hair and whipped my head back so far I thought he would break my neck. He told me if I didn’t come with him, right now, he’d finish you off, Chase, and he’d run right over the heroic prick.
“I remember how scared I was that he’d run both of us over, so I played his game. I somehow managed to free myself from his grip by telling him what he wanted to hear, that I’d join him. He finally backed off, strolled back to his car, got in and revved the engine as a warning. I didn’t pay attention to him. Instead, I looked down at you one more time. Your eyes were closed again, but I knew you were still alive, still breathing.
“I kissed your sweet lips, hoping you could feel it, hoping you could understand how grateful I was. I remember saying, Thank you Chase Cooper. Thank you for saving my life. I’ll get even. I’ll get even for both of us. But you have to live. You have to promise me that you’ll live.
&n
bsp; “I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw a slight nod, which gave me the strength I needed to get back in that car and leave you there. I would find a way to get even, to bring Lucky Mathis down where he belonged.
“He revved his engine again, and I knew he was losing patience. I had no choice but to leave you.
“I tried to cover your face with my mom’s jacket, praying that it would protect you, that she would protect both of us. Then I stood, walked over to Lucky’s car, got in and we drove away, leaving you on the side of the road. I prayed that somebody would find you and you’d be okay. Not like what happened to my mom. I guess my brother and Clark answered my prayers.
“You saved my life that morning, Chase, but not only my life. You saved Jayden’s life as well. I was two months pregnant, only I didn’t know it. When you pushed me out of the way, you saved my little boy’s life, and for that, I will always love you, Chase Cooper. Always.”
Then she disconnected.
She hadn’t thought of any of that for years. Had purposely pushed it aside whenever it popped into her head, whenever it bubbled up, leaving nothing but burning guilt in its wake.
RuthieAnn had finally made a confession, but it wasn’t helping her insomnia. She needed to see her brother, talk to her brother, bond with her brother.
She slipped on a sweater, slipped the key card in a pocket, stepped out of the room, leaving the door ajar. She knocked on Kevin’s door at the end of the short hallway. Gold Rush Inn had been one of the very first establishments in Wild Creek, but back then it was a saloon on the first floor, with rooms for rent on the second. It still retained a lot of the original woodwork on the walls and the stairways, but the first floor had been converted into three more rooms, a large parlor and a breakfast room for guests. When RuthieAnn was growing up, she always envied the people who were able to stay at the inn, and now that she could afford to pay her own way, it was the first place she thought of to stay. Pearl and Tyler had offered a room at their house, but RuthieAnn knew she would need her own space along with quiet. There would have been neither at Pearl’s.
“We need to talk,” she told Kevin when he opened the door. “Can you come to my room?”
“Sure,” he said, looking tired. “I’ll just be a few minutes. I was making a cup of herbal tea. It helps me sleep. You want a cup? It’ll only take a minute.”
She stepped inside. “Sure,” she said, stepping inside, but leaving the door open so she could hear Jayden if he called out to her. “When did you get into herbal tea? I don’t think it was ever on Dad’s menu.”
“Jimmy’s mom always made us a cup when we were kids and I’d spend the night at their house. It was her way to get us to calm down and go to sleep. Now, whenever I can’t sleep, I make a cup of some kind of minty tea and it really helps.”
“Can’t wait to try it,” she said, looking around the messy room. It had the same floor plan as hers, but the colors were deep rust and golden, while her room was decorated in pastels. She liked Kevin’s room better. The colors made it much warmer than hers.
“What’s up?” he said, once she was inside. “Still worried about our new found wealth?”
“Not exactly. I finally told Chase the truth about what happened that morning on the road. Now I think it’s time I told you as well. You have a right to know.”
“Thanks,” he said, handing her a white mug filled with hot minty smelling tea. “I knew you had something to do with it. Dad said as much, but I never knew what exactly happened. I don’t think he knew, either. I always hoped you’d tell me when you were ready.”
“I’m ready now,” she said and sat down on the sofa, and began her story all over again while they waited for Kevin’s water to boil in the electric teakettle.
Fourteen
Heavy rain pelted the windows surrounding Chase’s bedroom as gloomy daylight eased itself into his room. He awoke in a fit of anger and deep sadness. All the years of trying to remember the details from that morning had been condensed into one moment of clarity, and that clarity had broken him, more completely than if Lucky had run him over a second time to finish him off.
He remembered everything now, every detail as if it had happened only yesterday. He was somewhat stunned by all the specifics he could now recall. As if seeing that jacket had somehow opened a door in his head that had been slammed shut.
Chase had spent most of the night drunk on his ass, trying to block everything out . . . trying to block her out.
But it hadn’t worked.
Not only did she haunt him in his dreams, but she kept calling and texting, and at one point, when he was just nodding off, she’d knocked on his door.
As if he could open that door without flying into a drunken rage. At least he had the presence of mind not to trust himself.
He’d fallen dead-ass asleep after that, until a few minutes ago when another memory woke him up—the sound of a ruptured muffler—which turned out to be his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Even now, he thought he heard her at his door again. Was the woman mad? Couldn’t she see how crazed he’d been last night at the storage unit? How devastated? How destroyed?
Clark and his daughter had completely broken him. And all it took was seeing that stupid bright-pink jacket again.
Why had Clark kept it? To what end? Was he going to blackmail his own daughter with it?
He glanced at his phone on the nightstand next to his bed, tapped it on and saw that she’d left him a yet another voicemail. He closed his eyes again not wanting to listen to her latest message. Didn’t want to hear her explanations or her apologies. There was nothing she could say that would appease the ache in his heart. He wanted to wallow. He wanted to spend all day wallowing, all week, all month and then wallow some more.
After all, he deserved it. Needed it. Demanded it.
“How could I have been such a fool?”
Chase forced himself to fully open his eyes. Forced himself to get out of bed. It was then that he realized he still wore his clothes from the previous night. He hadn’t even removed his boots. He’d literally had fallen into bed and never moved.
He picked up his phone and tossed it on the bed, determined not to listen, but as soon as he did, something compelled him to at least see what she had to say.
He tapped his phone back on, tapped the voicemail icon, then tapped Speaker. Her voice pierced his heart. “Hi, it’s me,” she said in a whisper. “You deserve to hear the truth, and this is the only way I can think of to tell you. Please listen. Please.”
But now that he heard her voice, he didn’t need to listen to any more of what she had to say to know he’d been flat-out wrong. He couldn’t help his initial reaction to all those memories flooding his mind, but getting drunk hadn’t been the answer. He should’ve listened to her last night, given her the benefit of the doubt. She must have had a good reason for not telling him the truth, but he’d been so blinded by his own anger that he hadn’t wanted to hear what she had to say.
But he wanted to hear it now, wanted to hear every last detail. “I ran until my feet were bleeding, until I reached the road.”
He paused the message.
With each word she spoke, his resolve weakened a little more. He thought about his promise to Clark, his promise to forgive RuthieAnn. Had this been what he meant? To forgive her for that morning?
He loved her. Nothing could get in the way of that. No matter what had happened on that road . . . on that morning.
Now all he wanted to do was tell her.
He should’ve never have left her alone. Not when he knew about Lucky who had already broken into her apartment. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t leave her side, and yet he’d done just that.
He tapped the screen again. “I screamed for him to stop but it was several more horrifying feet before he did. I got up and ran over to you, Chase, hoping against hope that you were still alive, still breathing.”
Chase paused her message, quickly washed up, put on fresh clo
thes and took off for the inn. Rain came down in sheets, making it hard to see, even with his wipers at full speed. He called her several times, but she never picked up. His heart pounded against his chest as he drove as fast as he could to get to her. He shouldn’t have left her alone, not when he knew Lucky was on the hunt. He shouldn’t have been so full of himself, so full of contempt. The more he listened to her voice, the more he felt that something was wrong or why wouldn’t she answer her phone? Especially after she’d tried to talk to him so many times.
He listened to her message while he drove. “You saved my life that morning, Chase, but not only my life. You saved Jayden’s life as well. I was two months pregnant and didn’t know it. When you pushed me out of the way, you saved my little boy’s life, and for that, I will always love you, Chase Cooper. Always.”
The message stopped just as Chase took the final corner. Gold Rush Inn was only three blocks away.
ROLLING THUNDER AWOKE RuthieAnn with a start and she struggled to pull in enough air. Her chest tightened when she thought she heard Jayden call out to her.
“Coming,” she answered. “Mama’s coming.”
She tried to get her bearings as daylight poured in through the rust-colored curtains and she immediately realized she wasn’t in her own room at the inn. She was in Kevin’s room down the hall.
“Shit,” she said out loud, sitting straight up on the sofa, trying to shake the fog from her head. She’d been dead asleep until the thunder rolled over her with a sudden crash of noise.
“What?” Kevin said from the opposite side of the same sofa. They’d both fallen asleep. She, while sprawled out with her feet on her brother’s lap, and Kevin sitting up and resting his head on the back of the sofa.
“Jayden’s alone in my room. I heard him calling for me,” she told him, untwisting her sweater, running a hand through her tangled hair, then heading for the closed door. She thought she’d left his door open. The fact that it was closed sent a wave of fear through her. No wonder she hadn’t heard him. Someone had closed the damn door.