Yes! No! Omigod, what should she say? “I don’t know if…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the rest.
His expression turned…resigned. “I understand. See you later, Elle.”
She gaped at his form walking away, wishing she could admire the fine view, but she was too torn up inside. He left. Just like that. The Dillon who’d pursued her so fervently was gone.
Her cravings were wiped out. She rushed out of the store empty handed. And ran right into a man’s chest.
“Jesse!”
“We just keep running into each other.” He grinned down at her.
“I guess.” She attempted to side-step him, but he spun with her.
“Have you eaten yet? We can go grab a bite.”
He was asking her out again? The childish part of her wanted to say yes. After all, Dillon was going home to someone else besides his mama. Responsible adulting won.
“I’m not hungry.” Truth. “Thanks for offering.” She continued to her car, feeling his eyes on her back the whole time.
Yes. She’d made the right decision. About Jesse at least. Climbing into her car, she glanced in the review mirror. There was that truck again. She frowned, but brushed it off. Small towns.
***
“She’s cute, isn’t she?” Dillon laughed as he stood in his driveway with his mom. She was getting licked by an exuberant yellow lab. His dog circled Mama’s legs, tail wagging ferociously.
Mama giggled, giving the dog a good scratch. “What did you name her again?”
“Dottie.”
“And you said you got some cats, too?” Mama gave Dottie one more good scratch before lifting a couple of bags of groceries she’d brought for cooking “just a few meals.”
He picked up the other ten bags. “Trixie and Dixie. Already fixed so I don’t have to worry about batches of feral kittens.”
Mama walked into the house. “Feral and kittens don’t go together, but good idea. Kitties are so cute, it’s hard to give them up. Where did you find them?”
“There were plenty of cats at the pound. I picked ones who looked like good mousers. Dottie I found in the county classifieds. Her owner was moving out of state, couldn’t bring her with.”
“I’m glad you have some company out here. I can’t help but wonder why the sudden change, though.” He helped empty the groceries from the sacks.
“Part of my recovery.”
Mama stopped, her hand paused on a cupboard door.
“You and Dad were right. I have a problem. I drank my feelings, and I drank because I was lonely. Pets help with the loneliness. What’s a farm without pets, anyway?”
She smiled and rounded on him, hugging him tight. “I was so worried about you.”
“I know.” He returned her embrace. “I’m sorry for causing you concern. I’m sorry you felt like you had to coddle me because I couldn’t take care of myself.”
“The day you were born, I realized I would worry every day of my life.” They went back to unloading. “I don’t dote on you because I think you can’t handle it. I do it because I need to take care of my son. That’ll never change.”
“I left you and Dad for the Army.” The words almost stuck in his throat. Until he said them aloud, he hadn’t known how much it had eaten away at him. Coming home to a sick dad had planted a seed of guilt deep inside.
His mom blinked owlishly at him. “Why would you be sorry? We were so proud of you. Your father was as relieved you’d get to experience life off the farm as he was when you confirmed you were coming back. We always knew you’d return. And…”
“Mama?”
She shrugged, sadness shimmering in the depths of her hazel eyes. “Your dad and I were always grateful that the military paid for your education. Not that we wouldn’t have made it happen,” she finished hastily. “But, well, the financial burden of him being sick was easier to weather.”
Huh. If he hadn’t been working through his feelings and had talked with his mom, really talked, he wouldn’t have carried the guilt for decades, letting it slowly destroy him. And he wouldn’t have crawled inside a silver can and drowned.
She squeezed his elbow like she always did once he grew too tall to get his hair ruffled. “I’m glad you’re getting help, improving your life.”
“Same here. I almost lost everything before I opened my eyes.” Literally, but the shop wasn’t on the same level as Elle.
“Have you talked to her?” she asked softly.
“Half hour ago, as a matter of fact. Went as well as I could hope.” His amends had seemed inadequate, but it was as far as he could get with her for now. His goal was to stick to the twelve steps and someday perhaps he could apologize proficiently. “Speaking of which, when are you going out with your friends?”
“They asked about tonight, but I wanted to hear your plans first.”
“Go ahead. We’ll grill burgers tomorrow night after I get in from the field.” He needed to talk to someone, and if everything went well, he’d need the whole night.
With the last of the groceries put away, Mama picked up her overnight bag. “I need to text them and clean up. Don’t wait up for me.”
He grinned to himself. Mama Walker wasn’t yet sixty. When his dad had retired and they’d moved closer to advanced healthcare, Mama had done the opposite and gone to work. She loved kids, found work in a school, and learned to live again after his dad passed away. He marveled at her strength.
He grabbed two cans from his fridge. Other than milk, the only beverage he had contained lemon-lime sparkling water. Within minutes, he pulled up at Cash’s place.
He wasn’t moving forward in life until he got this over with. Until he repaired what he could of his relationship with Cash. They’d always be cousins, but Dillon wanted his best friend back. Life was too damn lonely with no one to talk to. Something Elle had tried to get through to him.
The house was empty. The barn was the next likely spot to find Cash. Hitting the bars, searching for women, was the only time the guy quit working. They hadn’t interacted since the night of the fight.
Cash was speaking quietly to a horse. Patsy Cline probably knew Cash better than any of them, heard all his secrets.
Stepping through the shadows, Dillon called out his cousin’s name. They both hated being taken off guard after their deployments.
Cash’s back was to him, red frayed ball cap pulled down low. He tossed the curry comb on the bench and took his gloves off. “Yeah?”
“We need to talk. About more than our fight.”
Cash’s head dropped. Dillon couldn’t tell if it was in disgust or resignation.
“I already know that you think what happened was all my fault.” Cash’s voice was low. “And you’d be right.” He braced his hands on the top of the bench as if waiting for Dillon’s barrage.
Dillon walked around Patsy Cline, running his hand along her flanks to keep from spooking her. “I’m willing to hear the whole story.”
It was a guess. An educated guess because he knew Cash better than anyone, he’d known he was lying when he’d recalled the event for their superiors. Since Dillon was being honest with himself, it was the main reason for why he was so angry with Cash. They’d been best friends, done everything together, and Cash hadn’t trusted him with the truth.
He leaned against the bench. Cash hadn’t moved.
“It was his fault, too. Daniels.” Cash gave a sharp laugh. “Sometimes I wish I could bring him back from the dead so I could fucking strangle him.”
Dillon chanced a glance at Cash. His mouth was set, eyes unfocused, shoulders held taut. He was back in Iraq.
“You were ordering us to fall back. He kept going, deeper into the building we were clearing. ‘Just one more room,’ he said. I had a bad feeling.” Cash blew out a gusty breath and shrugged. “I couldn’t let him go alone, I couldn’t turn around and go back. By the time I decided to follow him…”
“He’d set off the IED.” The explosion had rocked the ground Dillon st
ood on. He had been terrified he’d lost his cousin as dust blew out of every opening. And ashamed at his relief when he’d heard it wasn’t Cash who’d died. It had been easier to blame Cash for everything.
Cash finally turned around. “I should’ve stopped him. Physically dragged his ass back.”
“Daniels was…Daniels. Stuck in his head, easily distracted. It wouldn’t have done any good.” Cash nodded like he was being polite. Dillon knew how he felt, they both blamed themselves. “I think the same thing. I should’ve done more.”
“Nah, man. You were by the book. Me and Daniels weren’t. But…I didn’t mess around in the field. I thought you knew that.” Cash’s accusation simmered in his crystal blue eyes.
He was right. Dillon should’ve known. Cash ran the ranch with extreme care and precision, unlike his personal life. It was the same in the military. But Dillon had let feelings of betrayal cloud his thinking, found fault in everything Cash had done since they returned.
“I was so damn angry. I knew you didn’t report everything, didn’t tell me everything…”
Cash looked away. “My report was precise.”
“But didn’t include everything.”
“What could I say? ‘Yes, sir, I think Daniels intentionally killed himself.’”
“You really think so?”
Cash nodded, his expression grim. “He’d been saying weird shit. Once, he’d even joked about how his life insurance would help his sister finish college.”
“That’s why you didn’t tell anyone.” Dillon’s opinion of Cash increased exponentially. To cast doubt on Daniels’ death might’ve cost his family, and they’d already lost their son.
“I knew joining the Army was a bad decision the first day of basic training.”
Dillon gaped at Cash. “You stayed in for eight years.”
“Yep. Know why? I didn’t know what else to do.” He laughed with derision. “All I wanted to do was ranch, but Mom and Dad— So I stayed. I would’ve been fucked if we’d gotten stationed separately again.”
Dillon stared at him. Eight years. Because he couldn’t come home and work with cattle. —No wonder he hadn’t earned rank like Dillon. He’d been biding his time, waiting until Dillon got out so he could take over ranching operations. Yet, Dillon had stayed in for Cash.
He closed his eyes for a heartbeat. Take responsibility for his own actions. Dillon had made his own choice to stay in. Maybe he’d understood better then that he hadn’t been ready to come home.
“I’m sorry, Cash. It feels weak as hell, but I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too.” Cash took his ball cap off, scratched his neck, and pressed the palms of his hands over his eyes. “Look at us. A couple of sorry bastards.”
Dillon chuckled. He wasn’t set straight with Cash yet, but they were headed in the right direction. They needed time and Cash needed his support.
“Have you eaten yet? Mama’s in town, but she’s out with friends.”
Cash perked up. “Aunt Christy’s here? Is she going to drop off some meals for me again?”
“She’d love to. I’ve limited her to ten meals for me.”
“Sure, I could eat. Want to hit The Place?”
No, Dillon didn’t. Mentally raw wasn’t a good condition to go to the bar in. “How about a restaurant?”
Cash’s puzzled expression changed to understanding. “Oh right. Brock said you’d quit drinking.”
Dillon lifted a shoulder. “Right now it’s easier not to be around it. I need to find other ways to relax.”
“I don’t think Dottie’s going to be relaxing,” Cash said wryly.
He agreed. “She’s young yet, and bored being on her own. I might have to get another dog. I’m actually going to take her running in the mornings.”
Cash developed a lopsided grin. “Going back to doing morning PT like in the Army?”
“Yep. I think it’ll be good for me.” And help me sleep at night.
“Maybe I’ll go with you some time.”
Something they could do together since Dillon had sworn off the bar scene and wasn’t interested in dating.
Cash walked over to Patsy Cline to untie her. “Once Patsy’s back in the pasture, I’ll change clothes and head in. I’d better drive separate cuz…you know.”
“Ever think of settling down?”
Cash cast him a droll look. “When I find someone who interests me for more than one night at a time, I’ll think about it. I’m rooting for you and Elle, FYI.”
“I wish she was, too,” Dillon muttered, walking back to his truck.
Chapter Twenty-three
Elle woke up on the couch.
It was slightly after ten-thirty. She’d been woken up by the jingle of the nightly news.
Wild one right here, people.
And since she hadn’t come home with any goodies, she was hungry. Her sparse I’m-feeling-sorry-for-myself supper had burned off long ago.
Would she even be able to go back to sleep? She was stuck deciding between going back to sleep or slogging to her bed using as little energy as possible so she could fall asleep in the proper place.
She sighed. If that was the hardest decision she faced, her life was beyond boring.
The weather would be on soon. She’d just wait. There was always reading in bed if she couldn’t sleep.
Elle wrapped up her rowdy night by shutting the TV off when the weather portion was over. She shut the main lights off, and out of habit, she peeked out the curtains to check the street. It was something her dad had always done before bed.
She pulled away, her hand dropping, her heart rate increasing.
That truck. The beat up one she’d first seen outside work. Then later that night when she’d gone out for Mental Health Wednesday. Hadn’t it been at the gas station earlier? Her heart hammered too loud for her to notice much, but yes, she remembered it parked at the gas pump behind her car.
Why was she seeing it everywhere?
Kinda like she’d been running into Jesse. What would he have been doing outside her work? Then at the restaurant on the same night? When she’d been buying ice cream at the grocery store, he’d been there. Had that pickup been in the lot, too?
She sucked in a breath. Jesse had been at the gas station today.
She forced her panic down. She didn’t know anything for sure. It was a small town.
A closer look maybe. Leaving the house wasn’t an option because she wasn’t stupid. All the lights were off, her movements would be hidden. She went into her dad’s old bedroom and peered out the window, wondering if she had any binoculars in the house.
A shadow in the driver’s seat moved.
She gasped and ducked down.
A dude was in the truck. Was it Jesse? Regardless, some guy sat in his truck down the street.
Dillon popped into her mind. He’d know what to do, but she’d cut him out of her life.
Calling the police would amount to nothing. They might do a drive-by, but it’s not like he was breaking the law being creepy. The person in the truck wasn’t going to willingly admit to stalking her.
If he was a stalker and if he was stalking her. She wasn’t the only one who lived on this street. Weirder things had happened, but it was an odd coincidence.
Lifting the curtain, she chanced another peek. Definitely a dude in the truck. Still parked there, which meant he wasn’t checking Facebook before he took off after visiting a friend or pulled to the side of a residential street to shoot off a quick text.
There was no else she could call. Besides her father, all of her relationships bordered on acquaintances. There was no way she was dragging Betsy into this. If it was nothing, she’d be a pain in the ass. If it was something, Betsy had children who Elle wouldn’t risk exposing to any drama.
Dillon.
Before she could think of all the reasons why not, she’d already dialed his number.
She drew in a shaky breath. What if he was with his new girl?
“Hello?”
Too late. Elle stuttered, words and how to arrange them lost to her.
“Elle? Please tell me you called on purpose and didn’t butt dial me and get my hopes up.”
Her rising panic won over her vocal cords. “This pickup is sitting outside of my house. I see it everywhere and I’m worried someone’s been following me.”
“I’ll be right over.” She heard muffled movements. “Hang up and be prepared to call the police if you need to.”
“Okay.”
He disconnected.
She kept her phone on the dial pad, occasionally peeking out to see if the truck was still there.
The pickup’s lights flashed on. She jumped and dropped her phone. The vehicle pulled away seconds before Dillon’s pickup rolled in front of her house.
She ran to the front door and ripped it open just as Dillon trotted up.
“Did you see it?”
He stepped inside, then shut and locked the door. “I did, but I don’t recognize it.”
“I thought I was overreacting, but he left when you drove up.” She shivered. Dillon pulled her close. So familiar, and so good to be held by him again. “How did you get here so fast?”
“I was at the diner on Main. Cash had just left. I was paying to head home.”
She pulled back, searching his expression. “You and Cash?”
A faint smile lit his face. “I’d love to tell you all about it, if you’d let me.”
She swallowed. Dillon was back in her house. He could do anything, she doubted she’d resist. Except… “Am I taking you away from someone?”
His smile was replaced with a frown. “Just Mama, but I’m past the days of having a curfew. She’s probably still out with her friends.”
“Oh. I thought— At the gas station, I heard you on the phone, mentioning a girl you wanted to introduce to your mother.”
A slow grin spread across his face. “Right. A few new girls. One has soft blonde hair with soulful brown eyes. The other two are kinda wild, but that’s good.” He winked. “The wild ones catch more mice.”
She sputtered. “Cats?”
“No, ma’am. The blonde is Dottie and her bark is literally worse than her bite. She’s happy twenty-four/seven like most labs. The other two are cats I rescued, but I like to think they’re saving me more than I helped them.”
Conflict of Interest (The Walker Five Book 1) Page 18