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Return to Marker Ranch Page 22

by Claire McEwen


  Lori had her back to him, staring out the window at the street outside. Her hair was loose down her back, and she had a shearling coat wrapped around tiny frame. She turned, and he saw her pale skin and the shadows under her eyes. He’d done that to her. He’d put that look of exhaustion and worry on her pretty face. She crossed the room in a few steps, throwing her arms around his neck.

  He wanted more than anything to hold her close. But he’d lost that privilege when he lost control last night. So he closed his eyes and inhaled her warm, sweet scent one last time. And took her wrists and removed her hands, setting her away. It felt like something inside him was bleeding when he said, “No. We can’t.”

  * * *

  LORI WAS DESPERATE to hold him. To feel for herself that he was safe. “Wade, what’s wrong?”

  He glared at her with hollowed eyes. “We just can’t. Not anymore.”

  His hair was on end, his face and clothing filthy. “It’s okay. I don’t care about the dirt, or anything.” She reached to hug him again, but he stepped back. There were scrapes on his nose and cheeks from falling last night. She wanted to touch them, to touch all of him, after a night of worry so sharp she’d thrown up twice.

  It was torture, knowing he was hurt, locked up, probably scared and in pain and—knowing Wade—berating himself for fighting. “It’s okay,” she said again, hoping to reassure him. “They’re letting you go. That’s what matters. Let’s go home and get you cleaned up.”

  His face was etched with new lines as if one night in a jail cell had aged him years. He moved away again, out of reach of her touch. “I appreciate you getting me out of here. But that’s it. We need to end this thing between us now.”

  Her tortured stomach wrenched, and for a moment she thought she’d be sick again. “What do you mean, end this? We’re a couple. We’ll deal with this together.”

  “We can’t be a couple,” he said hoarsely. “We can’t be together anymore. It was a mistake to try.”

  His words were hitting her and sliding off. Impossible to take in. “We love each other. That’s not a mistake.”

  “Love isn’t enough. Not with someone like me.”

  She stared at him, aghast. “What do you mean, someone like you? Wade, you are the person I love. We’ve gotten through so much. We’ll get through this.”

  He ran a bandaged hand over his gaunt face, misery in every move. “There’s something wrong with me. You know it. You saw it last night.”

  Tears were starting. She swiped them with her sleeve. “But you’re working on it. You’ve been trying to get better.”

  “And I’m not better. I’m worse. I couldn’t stop hitting Seth. What if I turned on you that way?”

  “You’d never hurt me like that.” She hated that her voice was quavering. “I know you wouldn’t.”

  “Well, I don’t know it. I don’t know anything anymore, Lori.”

  “You know you love me. And I love you.”

  His jaw muscles tensed, and she felt the words before his rough voice sliced into her heart. “I don’t even know that. You need to move on from me. It’s time.”

  A sob tore at her throat. “It’s not. You don’t get to tell me when it’s time.”

  He glared at her. “I can tell you when you’re wasting yours.”

  His words were too familiar. Sickeningly familiar. “Really? You’re doing this again?” Her bitter laughter startled them both. “This is the thing you do when you’re scared, right? Like you did back when we were young? Where you push me away from you with as many cruel words as you can find, because you’re not sure what’s going to happen next?” She stepped up to him with fists clenched, wishing she was taller so she wouldn’t have to look up to meet his eyes. “You’re such a coward, Wade. You think you’re acting all grown up and manly right now, trying to protect me, but you’re doing exactly what you did to me when we were eighteen. Haven’t you learned anything since then?”

  She saw the glitter of tears in his eyes. But she also saw the mulish line of his jaw.

  “I’m a mess, Lori. But I won’t be your mess. I won’t ruin your life with my problems. You deserve a hell of a lot better than I’ll ever be.”

  The tears were streaming down her face as she stared at him, willing him to give in. But he shoved his torn-up hands in his jacket pockets. “Go,” he said quietly. “Go on. I’ll find my own way home.”

  She took a step away. It was hard to trust that the floor was there, or the door, when everything felt so unreal. So shattered. She hesitated, looked back at him, but he shook his head. So she stumbled forward and shoved her way outside, shuffling blindly into a world she no longer recognized, because everything had changed in just one night.

  * * *

  WADE LEANED ON the pasture fence, watching Jackson graze. He hadn’t worked with the mustang in a couple of days. He was probably losing ground. Losing the trust they’d been building. But so what? That was how he lived his life, apparently. Took a couple steps forward and slid all the way back again.

  If he didn’t end up in jail, he was thinking of leaving. He’d dreamed of reviving the ranch, of redeeming the Hoffman name in Benson. But he’d failed. Spectacularly. Because he’d been trained to be violent, trained to kill. And here, back in society, there was no place for a killer.

  He’d always thought the guys who committed suicide after they got home from combat were nuts. Why survive a war just to die once you got home? But now he understood perfectly. There was no home for them anymore. Not in their hometown, not in their country. And when you had nowhere you belonged, ending it all might seem like a logical option.

  Not for him, though. He wasn’t a suicide, but he was considering reenlisting. Even if he just got a desk job somewhere, at least he’d be around people who understood a little about who he’d become since Afghanistan.

  He looked around idly. The heifers would need a new home before he could go. He’d give them to Lori and Mandy. Todd would take back JM and Jackson, of course. Nora was staying in the area now that she was marrying Todd. Maybe Marker Ranch could become part of the sanctuary they were trying to create for wild mustangs?

  The idea of living somewhere else felt bleak. But staying here as the local loser felt worse. And living next door to Lori, watching her move on with her life? The pain of that stabbed at his guts.

  The rumbling of an engine had him backing up a few steps to where he could see Nora’s Jeep rattling down the driveway. Instinctively he looked for somewhere to hide, like he’d been doing every time she or Todd or Ethan or anyone else tried to pay him a visit.

  But some voice in his head told him to man up. It had been almost a week since the fight, and he’d have to face his sister sometime. So he went back to the fence, stared at his horse and waited.

  “They’re not pressing charges,” Nora said quietly as she walked up. “They probably realized it would be hard to build a case when so many witnesses saw Seth grab Lori like he did.”

  No jail. Anxiety loosened its grip for a moment. “Thanks for telling me.” His voice came out hoarse. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken.

  “How have you been? I get that you don’t want to see anyone, but I’ve been worried.”

  “I texted,” he said.

  “Yeah,” she said flatly. “Thanks for that. The words ‘I’m still alive.’ That’s real informative. So reassuring.”

  Her sarcasm masked her hurt. He knew that. But he had nothing to give her.

  “Have you talked to Lori?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  “She’s been calling me. She’s worried, Wade. She cares about you.”

  “We broke up,” he told her. “So it’s not her job to worry anymore.”

  “I don’t think telling her she’s not your girlfriend is going to change how much she worries. Sh
e loves you. She needs to know if you’re okay.”

  “Just tell her I’m fine.”

  Nora looked like she wanted to punch him. But she settled for kicking a rock down the lane. “You’re being such a fool. You two are meant for each other.”

  “No, we’re not. I’m doing her a favor by ending it. Someday she’ll be grateful that she’s not saddled with all my problems.”

  “Wade, you lost control for a couple of minutes! When you were seriously provoked. Seth grabbed Lori. He assaulted her. You had a reason to fight him.”

  “I would have killed him if I could have.”

  She shrugged. “Don’t you think we all have those instincts? If I’d seen him grabbing Lori like that, I would have wanted to kill him, too. And I’m sure Lori would still like to kill him. Have you thought of that? Of how she’s feeling right now?”

  “Of course.” It’s all he thought about. “Look, you might have the instincts, but you don’t act on them. I do. I went somewhere in my mind where I couldn’t stop.”

  Nora took his hand. “And you probably need some help with that. So go get it. But also remember all the times lately that you have kept your instincts in check. You’ve made so much progress, going to that support group and talking to Dan about stuff. Overall you’ve been getting a grip on this thing.”

  “By spending a night in jail? Putting a man in the hospital?”

  “No, of course not. But I’m telling you not to give up.”

  “I’m not giving up,” he protested.

  “What else do you call what you’ve been doing this past week? Oh, wait, I know. It’s called wallowing in a big hole of self-pity and pride.”

  He shook his head, thinking of the rage, and the dreams that even Lori’s love couldn’t stop. “You don’t know what this is like.”

  “No, I don’t. Ethan does, though. And he wants you to get your butt back to the support group and call these people.” She pulled some folded sheets of paper from her coat. “He wrote it all down for you. Counselors and psychiatrists who specialize in helping ex-soldiers. Hotlines for veterans. Call these numbers, Wade. Get some help now. Before you lose everything you’ve worked so hard for.”

  He took the papers, feeling like that messed-up kid again, the one she always had to jump in and rescue. He folded them small and shoved them into his back pocket. “I’ll look at them later.”

  She shook her head in disgust. “Because you’re so busy right now? Come on, Wade, think about it! We worked our whole lives not to let our family define us. To be something better than them. But here you are, letting this stupid PTSD define you! If you don’t get help, you’re letting it win.”

  He looked out over the mountains, at the peaks that had always represented freedom for him. She was right about one thing. He was so tired of being trapped—imprisoned by his own mind. “It’s not easy to beat.”

  “Most good things don’t come easily.” She looked defeated all of a sudden. “Look, if nothing else, think about the men and women who died fighting in Afghanistan. They won’t get a chance to finish their lives, but you will. So do what it takes to live a great one. If nothing else, you owe it to those fallen soldiers to fight this!”

  There were tears in her eyes, and she swiped them with her sleeve as she climbed into her Jeep. She slammed the door behind her and gunned the engine, leaving a cloud of dust around him as she drove out.

  He watched her go, welcoming the silence. Welcoming a break from all the hard truth in her words. He was so damn tired. Maybe he should just go inside and sleep for a while.

  A noise had him turning to face the pasture. Jackson had made his way over to the fence and stood just a few feet away, reaching out his funny reddish speckled nose to snuff the air between them. Taking a hesitant step closer, he nibbled at Wade’s sleeve with his lips.

  Wade felt his heart jump a little. It was the first time Jackson had ever sought him out. Slowly he reached out and stroked Jackson’s velvet cheek and jaw. The red horse took another step closer so Wade could scratch his neck. Another step and Jackson was leaning his head and neck over the fence to rub his forehead on Wade’s shoulder, almost knocking him off balance.

  “Hey, big guy,” Wade murmured, bracing himself as Jackson used him as a scratching post. “Glad I can help you out here.”

  The horse stopped scratching and whuffled his ear. Wade smiled, the expression so unfamiliar after the past week that his face felt stiff. “You want to do some work, Jackson?” He pulled the halter off the fence post, slipped it gently over the horse’s nose and buckled it behind his ear. “Want to go for a walk?”

  Wade climbed the fence slowly so as not to startle the horse, but Jackson didn’t seem worried. He waited patiently while Wade dropped to the ground next to him and fastened a lead rope to his halter. He walked quietly by Wade’s side as they started off through the big field.

  The quiet presence of the big horse walking alongside him was more soothing than any of the drugs in Dr. Miller’s arsenal. The rhythm of his muffled hoofbeats slowed the panic corroding Wade’s spirit. Jackson didn’t see him as broken. As long as Wade was calm and gentle, and fed him and worked with him, the horse was happy.

  A thought stole over Wade’s unquiet soul like a snowfall covering rough ground in soothing white. He might not be able to have Lori and the love he’d dreamed of. And he might never be totally accepted by everyone in Benson. But he could have this. This trust and friendship with Jackson. This chance to help a wronged animal adjust to its new and unfamiliar life.

  He could do some good here. It wasn’t everything he’d wanted, but it was something. A reason to put another foot forward and keep going. Because Nora was right. It was time to start fighting—for his sanity, for this horse, for this ranch, for everything he’d clung to in his darkest moments during the war, those moments when he’d wondered which of his next breaths would be his last. He’d survived, he’d lived, but now he needed to figure out how to start actually living.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  ONE OF THE steers Lori had brought down from the mountains was limping. Half-wild from his summer in the mountains, he was not at all interested in letting Lori near him to take a look. She kept her distance for now, walking slowly behind him, trying to decide if the problem was with his hoof or his leg. Or it could have been something up in his shoulder, in which case it might just resolve itself in the next day or so.

  She glanced at her watch. Ten minutes before she was due to meet the feed supplier down at the barn. Maybe she’d ask Jim or Ethan if they could get up here and look at the steer and see what they thought.

  She called Snack, and he pulled his nose out of the hole he’d been digging, dirt coating his muzzle and clinging to his haphazard fur. The little dog tore himself reluctantly away from whatever rodent he’d been after and followed her through the gate, then sat patiently, tail wagging, while she latched it behind her. At her whistle, he jumped into her arms. She set him up on Dakota’s saddle, swinging up behind him. She’d be a few minutes late getting back to the barn, but that was okay. The more packed her schedule was, the less time she had to think about Wade.

  Not thinking about Wade had become the driving force in her life. When he’d kicked her out of his life, she’d decided to fill up every waking hour, from dawn until midnight, with work. That way there’d be no time for worrying or wondering. And hopefully, with enough time, her feelings for him would just dry up like a neglected garden in a summer drought.

  Unfortunately it had been almost a month and her efforts hadn’t made much difference. She still thought about him way too often. She still missed him with an endless dull ache. But the ranch was looking great, all repaired and ready for winter, thanks to the extra hours she was putting in. And eventually she’d have to stop missing Wade. Somehow.

  Mandy kept telling her to call him. Or write h
im. To try one more time to make their love work. But she was done. A girl could take only so much rejection.

  Nudging Dakota down the dirt road, she passed the water tank. And glared at it because it was a reminder of that fall day when she’d found it empty and gone storming over to Marker Ranch to find Wade there.

  And how they’d fought, and then become friends and eventually more.

  And how he’d promised to love her forever, and then told her it was all over, because he couldn’t let himself lean on anyone.

  He had too much pride and an independent streak a million miles wide. She got why. He’d practically had to raise himself because his family had been so messed up. If he hadn’t had that independence and pride, he might never have made it.

  Maybe she understood him because she was similar. She’d had a lot of time to think lately. About her own pride. Her own determined independence. That maybe her single-minded focus on being a great rancher had been a way to avoid thinking too much about the hard stuff, like losing her mom.

  Had she ever really faced her mom’s death? Of course she’d cried, but as her dad and Mandy retreated into their individual, isolated grief, she’d seen that it was up to her to keep the family going. She’d managed the ranch, paid the bills, studied harder than she needed to and jumped into every school activity. It had been easier to keep herself busy than to think or feel.

  Which was exactly what she was doing about Wade now. Trying not to feel. And that hadn’t worked so well the first time around with him. All her old feelings had come pouring out the moment she saw him again.

  She held Snack tightly as Dakota picked her way down a steep, narrow path that served as a shortcut to the barn. It was time to do something different. It was time to stop hiding from the hard emotions.

  Lori glanced at the mountains behind her. There was still a lot of daylight left. She’d go meet the feed delivery and then clear her schedule. It was time to break the pattern. It might be depressing, but she was going to do something she should have done a long time ago. Take the last trail her mom had ridden. Face down the sorrow and grief that was there. And maybe, by facing that old pain, she’d find a new way to deal with the heartache of losing Wade.

 

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