by Sable Hunter
“I’m gonna grab a soda. You want another one, Sheriff?” Denver asked when the need to go see Bryn became too strong to ignore.
“Nah,” Kane said with a smirk. “One soda’s my limit. Too much sugar. Can’t stand the diet ones. As soon as my shift is over, I’ll cool off with a beer.” He turned his head and they both glanced over to the spot where Libby and Bryn were standing. The girls were smiling, laughing, and having a good time. “Go on over there.”
“What?” Denver asked when he realized Kane was on to him.
“Don’t try to fool a cop, Denver. I hear everything in my town. You can’t keep your eyes off that little lady, go on over and talk to her before some other bloke snatches her up.”
Denver clapped the big lawman on the shoulder. “You boys don’t miss a thing, do you?”
Kane saluted him by raising the bottle in his hand and Denver was off, cutting a path through the crowd of partygoers on his way to see the girl who haunted his dreams.
“Denver!” Bryn cried out when she saw him approaching. “You’re here!”
She wanted to fly into his arms and give him a kiss on the cheek, but the last few times they were together had quelled her spontaneity where he was concerned.
“Yea, I made it. Finally. What did I miss?”
“The preacher went over the service. I think you’re supposed to be here an hour before the ceremony and walk with Lance to the altar when the time comes. After they’re proclaimed husband and wife, you’ll escort one of the bridesmaids back down the aisle.”
“Sounds simple enough.” Denver wanted to take Bryn into his arms so badly he could taste it, but he held back, making sure she wanted the same thing.
“You look like you’re having a good time,” Denver said, glancing at the bottle in her hand.
“Oh, I am. This is a very nice party. Would you like me to get you a drink? I know where they keep the good stuff.”
She started to walk away, but Denver caught her arm. “I’m okay. Maybe you should finish the one in your hand before you start another one.”
“I didn’t say I was getting another one for myself,” she corrected him evenly. “I was being polite.”
He ignored her explanation. Instead, he focused on her flushed cheeks. “How are you feeling?”
Bryn gave him a bright smile. “I’ve had a great time. I made some new friends and they made me feel like part of the group.” Tilting the bottle to her mouth, she took another sip, more for courage than anything else.
Denver did his best to smile, but he would’ve been lying if he said that seeing her with a drink in her hand made him happy. “Let’s just make sure to drink in moderation.” Taking the neck of the bottle between his fingers, Denver pulled it away from Bryn’s lips.
“I’m not drunk, Denver. I was just being sociable.”
He swallowed, his throat tight. “I understand the concept, but sometimes social drinking can get out of hand.”
Taking his arm, Bryn sought to reach out to him. “This is a lovely night, let’s take a walk together.”
“Okay, I’d like that,” he said, drawing her close. “This has just been a stressful day for me. I knew I had work to do and I needed to be here and…” He debated what to say, then just said it. “I missed you.”
Bryn laid her head on his shoulder. “I missed you too. I watched for you. I couldn’t wait for you to get here.”
Denver kissed the top of her head. He was about to ask her if she wanted to take a drive when he noticed something going on at the side of the barn just off in the distance. Denver squinted until he could make out Nathan McCoy and his girlfriend, Kristen.
“What is it?” Bryn asked when she saw Denver’s attention turn away from her. Following his gaze, she sighed. “Young love. He’s probably hoping for a kiss.” She’d been wishing for one of Denver’s soul-stealing kisses herself.
“I can’t believe this.” Denver’s mind and attention were focused on the scene before him. The light near the barn was dim, but there was no mistaking Nathan McCoy bringing a dark bottle to his lips, tipping it, then offering the same bottle to his girlfriend.
“Son of a bitch,” Denver cursed, pulled away from Bryn, and headed for the barn at a fast clip.
“Wait!” Bryn fell in behind him, but Denver was taking long, purposeful strides away from her.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Denver practically yelled when he came up upon the young couple.
Nathan was happy to see Denver, but his smile dropped when he sensed the older man’s mood. Confused, he asked, “What do you mean, Denver?” He glanced at Bryn for help when she finally made her way to Denver’s side.
“Denver?” Bryn grabbed Denver’s arm. “What are you doing?”
Denver pulled out of Bryn’s grasp and struck out a hand like lightening, snatching the dark bottle from a stunned Nathan McCoy. “You can’t be drinking, Louis. You’re too young.”
“Louis?” Kristen asked.
“Denver. Who’s Louis?” Nathan asked with a touch of fear in his voice.
Denver raised the bottle in his hand and smashed it on the ground, sending shards of glass everywhere and the other three in his presence scrambling to cover their faces.
“I’m gonna tell your brothers about this,” Denver yelled right in Nathan’s face.
“Denver, let’s continue on our walk.” Bryn tried to pull him away.
Denver ignored her. He was extremely upset and none of them knew why.
Nathan pulled Kristen to his side. “Tell them what, Denver?” Nathan asked. “That was root beer. We weren’t doing anything wrong.”
“Root Beer?” Denver blinked and for the first time, he could see the fear on the younger couple’s face. “I…uh…I’m sorry, Nathan. I’m sorry, Kristen. I have to go.”
Turning on his heels, Denver headed out of the party as fast as he could. He was beyond embarrassed. He’d scared the poor kid and his girl half to death and probably alienated Bryn in the process.
“Denver! Wait!” Bryn cried out, chasing him to his truck. “Can I come with you?” she asked at his open driver’s side window. “Please, Denver?” She knew something was wrong to make him act the way he’d just acted with Nathan and Kristen.
“Yea, come on. Get in. Let’s get outta here.”
Bryn ran around the cab of the truck to climb in next to him. As soon as she fastened her seatbelt, they took off and drove the short distance to his trailer. “Well, here we are again,” she whispered.
“I’m a fool, Bryn. A damn fool.” He threw open the truck door and jumped out.
Bryn wasn’t far behind. “What’s wrong? Tell me. You’re not acting like yourself. You reacted funny when you saw me drinking, then you became angry when you saw Nathan and Kristen drinking. You called him Louis.”
“Yea, I lost it.” He slowly walked up the steps of his porch and opened the door, holding it wide for Bryn to step inside. “Are you sure you want to be with me?”
His question sounded like more than an invitation into his home. “Yea, I want to be here with you. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
Denver didn’t understand Bryn’s decision, but he needed her too much to turn her away. Leading her into the dim interior, he apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t clean house today.”
She noticed a bit of clutter and a few dishes in the sink. “I don’t care.” Bryn wanted to help him. He needed to talk. “When you saw Nathan, did he remind you of your brother?”
Denver stood there, hands on his hips, just staring at the floor. He took a long, painful breath, then exhaled slowly. “Yea, for a minute there, I saw Louis when I looked at Nathan. Louis was my little brother.”
“I remember, we talked about the picture of him that I saw in your room.”
Denver didn’t look at her, he just continued to speak softly. “He was four years younger than me. He died nine years ago of alcohol poisoning. It was my fault.”
Bryn felt her heart breaking. He’d move
d to stand at the sink, just looking out the kitchen window into the darkness. “How could it be your fault, Denver?”
He picked up a heavy mug in the sink and threw it back down.
Bryn jumped when it shattered.
“There was a damn football game. He was the star running back. They won the district championship and wanted to celebrate.” Denver stopped and cleared his throat.
Bryn could hear the tears in his voice. “What happened, Denver?” She came nearer, placing her palms on his back and soothing them across his shoulders.
Denver shrugged out of her embrace, going to stand by the back door. “Sometimes I just want to run away, you know? Like I could outrun the pain. The guilt.” He lifted his eyes to meet Bryn’s. “I’ve thought about killing myself.” Seeing the horror in her eyes, he shook his head. “Oh, yea, I’ve considered it. I keep the pistol in the bedside table, just in case I ever get enough courage to do it.”
“No, Denver, no. Don’t say that.” Bryn didn’t even want to consider the possibility.
“He asked for my ID to buy beer and cheap wine at a convenience store on the edge of town. Louis said we looked enough alike that no one would think twice. He was big for seventeen.” Suddenly, Denver bent, his head going to his knees in agony. “Seventeen! Bryn. He was just seventeen!”
“I’m so sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“He died. He was found unconscious. He never woke up.”
Bryn came to him again, placing her cheek to his back and her arms around his waist. “I’m so, so sorry. I know you feel guilty, but you had no idea anything so tragic would happen.”
“Yes, but I let it happen. Giving Louis my driver’s license was a stupid decision on my part. Stupid. Irresponsible.”
“We all make mistakes.” Bryn tried to comfort him. “You didn’t intend for anything bad to happen to your brother.”
“No, I didn’t mean for anything bad to happen to Louis – but it did. His death was my fault.”
“You didn’t know, Denver. You didn’t know he’d drink too much.”
“He was a kid, Bryn! My kid brother! I should’ve looked out for him.”
Bryn could feel him quaking, trembling, shaking. She squeezed him tighter, holding him while he ached. “You were young too.”
“I was old enough to know better.”
“Louis made a bad decision, just like you.”
Bryn’s words weren’t new. Denver had told himself the same things over and over, trying to reason out what happened, trying to alleviate some of the remorse, shed some of the responsibility from his own shoulders. Like a coward. “No, this was my fault.” He laughed wryly. “Even my parents agree.”
He turned in her arms to face her. “My folks found the ID on Louis’s body before the police arrived. My dad figured out what had happened. He didn’t turn me in, but he looked me in the eye and he sentenced me to hell. He told me that I’d killed my brother and that he and my mother would never forgive me. He told me they never wanted to see me again.”
“Oh, no.” Bryn took his hand. “They couldn’t mean that. They’d lose two sons, not just one.”
He gently disengaged his hand from hers and walked back to the window. “They asked me to leave, but I didn’t. I turned myself in and I spent two years in prison for involuntary manslaughter.”
“I’m so sorry.” Bryn wanted to wrap him in her arms and take away his pain. “You paid your debt.”
This debt was one he’d never repay. “My parents wouldn’t let me come home. I’ve never been home again, after that night. I’m not welcome. After prison, I just hit the road.”
“Do your parents know where you are? Surely, if they did…”
“Yes,” Denver interrupted her. “I called my mom on Mother’s Day a few years ago, gave her my address, my phone number.” He swallowed unable to tell the rest, it was just too hard. He cleared the lump from his throat and wiped his eyes. “When you came, I was able to put the grief aside for a time. I found myself wanting things I don’t deserve.”
“Denver, you deserve every happiness. You can’t let this one mistake ruin your life!”
“I already have.” He bowed his head. “I’m so tired. I just need to…escape.” Denver gestured toward the door. “I’ll take you back to your car.”
“It’s not far, I could walk.”
“No, you’re not walking. I won’t be responsible for anything bad happening to someone else I…” He cut off the last word. “I can’t live knowing…hell!” He hit the wall with his fist, putting a hole in the drywall.
Suddenly, Bryn realized she couldn’t leave him like this. She didn’t think he’d do anything to hurt himself, but he was in a bad way and she refused to risk the possibility. “Let me stay with you. I don’t want to be alone tonight either, Denver. Can I sleep here with you?”
“Why?” He looked at her quizzically. “Why would you want to be with me?”
Bryn thought fast, then just decided to tell him the truth. “You’re important to me. I don’t want to leave you alone. You’re my best friend in the whole world, Denver.”
Best friend? Denver rubbed his eyes, then focused on the delicate woman with a heart as big as all outdoors. Yes, they were friends and could be a whole lot more. “Being with me is not smart, Bryn.”
“I’m happier when I’m with you than any other time. Can I stay?”
When he looked into her big eyes, he couldn’t form the words to ask her to leave. “Sure. You take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No.” Bryn was emphatic. “I need to hold you. I know nothing else will happen, it’s not the right time.” Tonight, wasn’t about sex, it was about healing. “But I need to be close to you and…” She hesitated, hoping what she said was true. “You need me too.”
Denver held out his arms in surrender and Bryn walked straight into them. “I do. Heaven help me, but I do.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I think you should eat something before you go to bed.” She pushed out of his arms, needing a bit of distance. Being held close to him did funny things to her body. “Sit down at the table and let me fix you something, then we’ll go to bed and watch television until you fall asleep.”
Denver found his mood lightening. She was good for him. “You’re just a little mother hen, aren’t you?”
Bryn shrugged her shoulders. “I have a heart for service.” She fell back on the phrase oft used in the convent.
He sat down at the table, his eyes following her every move, his thumb rubbing the worn surface absentmindedly. “Have you ever thought about trying to find your parents?”
Bryn dropped the loaf of bread she’d been holding. “No. Well, yes. But I have no idea where to start. I don’t think they want to be found.”
“I guess we’re in the same boat, but for different reasons.”
She found ham, cheese, and mayo in the refrigerator and began to make Denver a sandwich. “Yea, I guess we are. Maybe that’s why we were attracted to one another.”
He chuckled. “And here I was thinking we were drawn together because we were opposites.”
“A little of both, I guess.” She spread the mayo and drew the slices of ham from the packet and arranged it on the bread. “Here, eat up,” she told him as she cut the sandwich in half. “Is milk okay to drink?”
“Perfect.” He drew the plate closer to him to pick up the sandwich and take a bite. “Good.” Other than restaurants, he hadn’t enjoyed someone taking care of him like this since he’d left home. “Sit with me,” he told her after she’d placed the full glass of milk in front of him.
Bryn joined him, folding her hands on the table. “The wedding will be nice, I think.”
Denver groaned. “I may not be going. I’ve got to apologize to the family for my behavior tonight.”
“They’ll understand. Anyone who knew your circumstances would completely understand.”
Denver stopped eating to take a drink of milk, staring at the table,
thinking. “They don’t know my story, Bryn. I never told Jacob, Lance, or anyone about my prison time. They could fire me.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Bryn assured him. “I can’t imagine them letting you go for something that happened so long ago. The price you paid was far greater than the time you spent behind bars.”
Denver nodded. “I don’t think this is a debt I can ever repay. Louis lost his life because of me.”
Bryn wanted to argue with him, but she knew this viewpoint was ingrained within his being. Only forgiveness would bring Denver peace.
While he finished eating, Bryn regaled him with stories of Cecil, the little boy whose mother rented him a tuxedo for a wedding from Tricia’s shop. “Measuring him was an exercise in futility.” She laughed. “He was a total wiggle worm. When I got one part of him still, another part would start moving. I finally had to bribe him to be still by feeding him gummy bears. When he left, he told me that he planned on marrying me when he grew up.”
“You charmed him, Miss Bryn.” Denver knew the feeling.
“I think it was the gummy bears,” she murmured with a yawn. “Gracious. I got up too early this morning.”
“Me too. I was on the road at four this morning, headed to a registered cattle sale. Any particular reason you didn’t sleep well?” Denver stood to place his dishes in the sink.
“Couldn’t sleep. Bad dream. Let me get those.” She pushed in next to him and opened the dishwasher door. “This won’t take but a minute.”
“I can relate.” He began to speak, telling Bryn things he’d never told anyone. “I relive that day in my dreams so many times. Louis asking me for the ID, me giving it to him, then finding out he’s dead. Sometimes, it doesn’t end there. Even though I wasn’t with him when he died, I find myself there, holding him. He blames me. He asks me why.” Denver held onto the counter as Bryn put the dishwasher on to wash. “When I wake up, I’m wet with sweat. It’s those times…those times that I’m weak. When I don’t want to live.”