by Emily Bishop
“This is a mistake.” She stopped momentarily, gesturing frantically with her hands. “You don’t know James at all. What he’s capable of… a sweet country girl like you would never understand—"
Er, excuse me, bitch please.
I frowned, cutting in. “Actually, I’m from New York. And please, spare me the condescension.”
Bruna huffed at that. “That’s just it. I’m not trying to patronize you. I’ve known James my entire life. He has this whole other life I bet he hasn’t told you about. He has a way of…a way of toying with people’s lives. He’s ruthless like that. Damaged. In a way, that’s why we understand each other and share so much history together. And I don’t want to see you get hurt. I can handle him just fine—"
“What are you doing?” A voice cut in, interrupting Bruna’s spew of hateful words that sliced into me like a knife.
It was too late. Bruna’s poisonous words settled in my stomach, creating a cocktail of churning dread.
The damage was done.
Shocked, I pulled my gaze toward James, who stood there, feet away from me, looking, crushed. Protective. But most importantly of all, furious. His entire lean figure tensed in tightness and rigidness, and his eyes were an explosion of burning fire and death, aimed directly at the source of it all: Bruna.
Bruna whimpered under his gaze. “James, please don’t look at me like that. I was just—"
“Just what, exactly?” James took a step toward her, his voice flaring with danger.
“I just want to talk to you, god damn it! You at least owe me an explanation. Let’s skip through the drama and get right to it,” Bruna snapped, the anger building up inside her too. She folded her arms in defense.
This was getting to be too much.
A sudden urge gripped me to get far, far away from this encounter. To remove myself from this situation before it got any worse.
I threw a questioning gaze James’s way and shook my head.
“I’ll give you guys some privacy.” I made to move out of the way of this interaction, but James stopped me by resting a hand on my shoulder.
“No, don’t leave. We’ll go to the stables and get this over with.” Gritting his teeth, James cast me a worried look but remained silent.
Taking a sharp breath as if to gather strength, he slackened his hold over me and stalked over to Bruna.
“You coming?” he snapped.
Bruna stuttered, but her eyes beamed in satisfaction. She cast me a grateful look as James steered her away into the privacy of the stables.
Defeated, I slumped down on the grass.
Bruna’s words played on like a broken record in my mind. Her words wrapped like ivy around my heart and squeezed, stealing away my steady breath.
What the fuck did she mean about James and his track record of hurting people?
James was many things, but not once had I doubted his goodness. Sure, he was a stubborn asshole, but deep down, I had glimpsed something so good and true in him that I clung to that sensation until eventually I had fallen into him.
Voices rose up, pulling me back into my present situation.
Bruna was shouting, and her trembling words traveled down from the stables. I squinted, attempting to catch the ends of their conversation.
“You fucking destroyed the Smith family, and you’re telling me you’ve changed? People don’t change—" Bruna’s words rang out across the stables.
What was that about?
James rose up to meet her, his voice taking on an incredulously sarcastic tone. “You told me the other day you had changed, isn’t that right, Bruna? But you’re just as selfish, hell-bent on destroying the life I’ve tried to rebuilt after you—"
“After I left you.” Bruna cut in, her voice rising an octave. “I know I fucked up, but you don’t know the whole story. I was on drugs. I was also bulimic. I had depression for fuck’s sake. If you had bothered to take your nose out of your glorious cases and see right into me, you could have saved me! I ran after that actor because he was supplying drugs to me. It was a toxic relationship, and the drugs almost took me, but I swear James, I’m clean now and—"
I couldn’t hear any more. Sick to my stomach, I got up from my position.
In that second, I noticed the figure approaching me, determined in his stride.
He had long dark brown hair, plaited back, and his warm brown eyes were staring at me, resolutely. He looked Native American.
“Hey. Summer, right?” he asked gently, as he came to a standstill beside me. I smiled at him weakly. “That’s right. How did you—"
“We met at the bar. Albeit briefly. I’m Atohi, James’s friend slash sidekick around the ranch. You took a runner that night and James ran after you.” Oh.
Embarrassed, I blushed. I should have remembered him.
“Sorry, the alcohol kind of got to me.” I confessed.
Atohi chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. Johnny’s liquor had a part to play in getting us all drunk that night. Expect for James of course. I swear that man is always in control.” Atohi shook his head playfully, yet his eyes took on a serious feature. “Come on, Summer, you don’t need to hear their screaming match. Juanita made us some lemonade. Let’s get out of this damn sun for a while.”
I was so grateful for this young man’s presence that I could have cried.
Nodding, I let him remove me from what I had just witnessed. What I had wished I had never heard.
Just as suddenly as I had begun to get a grasp of James’s identity, I had just as quickly realized I didn’t know James at all really.
Chapter 10
James
I watched as Bruna stopped in her tracks one last time and threw me a look laced with excruciating pain. Her tears free-fell down her face, yet her expensive mascara prevailed.
She was broken, her lip quivering in agony.
Bruna nodded at me one last time and then climbed back into her car and drove away. I watched until the speck of her red Jeep disappeared from my vision.
My shoulders relaxed in relief.
She was gone. And hopefully she would stay gone.
But her words had torn into me, reopening wounds that ran deep.
Bruna had been a drug addict. A bulimic. A depressed woman on the verge of suicide when she had left me at the altar. She had made it clear that it wasn’t another man she had dumped me for. It was the drugs that had led her to choosing her next fix over me.
And I had been completely oblivious. So busy, so wrapped up in my cases and my job, that the twelve-hour work days had shrouded my ability to see what had been in front of me all along.
The signs had been there. The late-night partying. The constant texting. Her sudden bouts of sickness. Bruna’s constant obsessions over fitting into a size zero. Her ridiculous diets. Her dizzy spells. The memories overpowered me.
Bruna had claimed just now that she had changed. Rehab and vigorous sessions with her psychiatrist had brought her back from the brink of ending her life. Yet the guilt weighed heavily on my shoulders.
Had I driven her to abandoning me at the altar? Had my negligence sparked her desire to turn to drugs as an answer?
Despite knowing now, better than ever, that I had not an ounce of love left for her, I still cared about her. This was a woman I’d known almost my entire life.
I’d have had to be heartless to not at least care about her wellbeing.
It took me an immense amount of willpower to collect myself.
Summer. I had to go see her, to explain myself.
Nothing mattered any more but getting to her.
Making my way back into the house, I stopped in my tracks at the noise of laughter coming from the kitchen.
Taking a sharp breath in, I walked in to a sight that squeezed at me.
Atohi, Juanita, and Summer were sitting around the table, laughing, with a game of cards sprawled out in front of them. A jug of Juanita’s famous lemonade stood in the center of the table, beckoning me forward.
“Hey, gu
ys.” I broke their session, and all eyes turned to me.
It was Summer’s gaze that kicked me in the guts. She looked at me warily, almost uncertainly, as if she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to acknowledge my presence.
I deserved that. “We saved you some lemonade, mijo. Come.” Juanita’s words of encouragement fell on deaf ears.
Atohi picked up on the social queue hastily.
“We can finish the game later, Juanita. Let’s give these two a moment.” In seconds, Juanita and Atohi were out of the door, leaving me alone with Summer.
I took a step forward, but Summer winced, almost as if she couldn’t handle it.
“Is she gone?” Summer asked, her distant voice cutting into me.
I flinched at her tone. It was almost as if she was speaking to a distant neighbor. “Yeah. You did a good job of convincing her we’re engaged. She promised to leave us alone.”
Summer hesitated, before saying, “I’m glad. Look, James, I wanted to make one thing clear. This thing between us…it can’t come to anything, OK? It’s best I finish up this story. I’ve got like what, eight days left here. I need to focus on getting this story out. Today was great, delivering Ronaldo from his mama and saving his life. That was gold. But we—"
I closed the gap between us in one quick movement until I was inches away from her. I knew what she was doing. I was a master at it. Summer was trying to push me away.
She inhaled sharply, a tiny slip up from her façade.
“Don’t push me away, Summer. Let me explain, at least.” My words came out quietly, yet she heard them.
“Explain how apparently you destroy people’s lives? What did Bruna mean by that? You know what. Forget I asked, I don’t think I want to know.” Summer snapped, folding her arms in, almost as if she wanted to protect herself from myself.
It was like she had punched me directly in the chest. The pain was immediate, a familiar ache that once had the overpowering effect to crush me. Now the pain accompanied me as a steady ache.
“I know you have questions about that. It’s a past I’m too ashamed to talk about. I’m not ready to do it just yet.” My voice trailed away, the unspoken words rising up in my throat in their bid to get out. But I clammed up, frozen in my incapacity to reveal that part of myself.
Something flickered in Summer’s expression, almost as if she understood, and then it was snuffed out, replaced by her mask.
“I’m tired of all this conflict, James. I’m going back to the Outpost Motel now, and I’ll see you in the morning, OK?” Her defeated words cut into me. She was shutting me down in the most ruthless way possible. By dismissing me.
She was giving up.
And the most fucked-up part of it all?
I didn’t blame her. I was a broken mess.
My eyes burned into her, almost pleadingly, and she cracked momentarily. Pain washed over her eyes for a second, and I latched onto it.
But then just as quickly, it was gone.
Her mask was back up in place, expressionless.
Rising up from the table, Summer nodded at me in acknowledgement but didn’t speak.
I had nothing left to give her. So I moved away and watched her leave, sick to my stomach.
*
The next morning passed in blaring silence.
When Summer walked in that morning, looking ravishing in black leggings and a cropped top, sporting a sunhat and plaited blonde hair. It took an immense amount of willpower to keep my eyes to myself.
Why was she so damn beautiful? So utterly sexy, and the way her butt tightened in those leggings… holy fuck, my body responded to her in ways I didn’t know were possible.
Summer shut me down quickly with her actions. Listlessly, she opened up her book and buried herself deep in her writing, only emerging occasionally to capture something I did.
As the morning streamed by, over the course of four hours, she spoke all of ten words to me.
It quickly dawned on me that Summer wasn’t a woman you could easily mess with and get away with it. Just like her strong-willed character, her stabbing silence could last for hours, obliterating everyone in its pathway.
Silence, in Summer’s case, was a very bad thing.
Her stubbornness, in fact, reminded of my sister. She could stay angry at me for days at a time, and there was something utterly powerful about using that as a weapon for anger.
The only time Summer acknowledged me was when I checked on Ronaldo and Nara.
The little guy had spunk. He was trotting around confidently in the stables, testing his feet on the ground.
Summer watched on, smiling wildly, as her whole face transformed into boundless energy and lightness. In that moment, she caught me staring at her, and her body betrayed her as she blushed a scarlet red.
But when I tucked the little guy back in his temporary cot, her mask was summoned back in place. The cool indifference oozed out of Summer, making my blood go cold.
When I eventually got to Nara, Summer asked a couple of questions, almost cautiously.
At last, the nature of her journalistic work took hold. Summer couldn’t avoid me forever.
I explained to her in a patient tone that Nara had to be frequently checked. Calved cows were especially fragile after giving birth, and they required close monitoring. Any sign of unwellness could unravel into mastitis, and I was determined to keep Nara safe and well.
Summer had furiously scribbled into her notebook at my explanation, and the curiosity had gripped me.
What was she writing about?
As morning eventually morphed into afternoon, it was time to take the horses out to check all the fences were sealed around the ranch. Usually, it was a two-man job between me and Atohi, but if Summer wanted to live and breathe the ranch, she had to participate in all the activities.
As we walked up to the stables, I turned my attention toward Summer, who kept a physically noticeable distance between us. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was now repulsed by me after what she had heard coming out of Bruna’s mouth.
I had shattered lives. I had destroyed the Smith family. These were all irrefutable facts.
Quickly, I pieced myself back together. “Have you ever ridden a horse?” I asked her, throwing her off.
Summer arched her eyebrows at me, tilting her head to the side in puzzlement.
Aha!
She wasn’t expecting that, was she?
“Like once in summer camp. You want me to, to…” she stuttered, tripping up her syllables in that cute way of hers that showed she was nervous.
I waved it away. She was ready for this.
“It’s easy. You want to document the ranch? Well what better way than to ride a horse alongside me and see every nook and cranny of the ranch? Not all parts are all fun, trust me.” I bit back the urge to smirk at her.
I could tell the fight was gathering in her as it passed through her eyes. Anger. Uncertainty. Resolution. Defiance.
She bit her lip and then turned her attention to me coolly.
“Oh, I’ll oblige. That one.” Without flinching, she pointed towards our most unpredictable horse, Crook.
Crook was a black beast of a stallion, and his nose was crooked, hence the name.
Almost in reply, he neighed viciously.
Hell no.
He was known for his troubled ways. Anything could set Crook off. Even the sound of a cow mooing could launch him into a full gallop.
I folded my arms together. “Crook is off limits.” I replied in an equally cool tone, in my attempt to shut down this ridiculous idea of hers. I pointed to Atohi’s horse instead, Pinkie.
Now Pinkie was a predictable creature. She was an ageing beauty, loyal to the teeth, and a very gentle companion.
Summer huffed, scowling at me. “I’m not some fragile thing you can command, James. I want to take on Crook. He looks like he’s got character.” She was standing her ground.
Oh, Crook had character alright. Just like the infuriating Greek
goddess in front of me.
I shook my head at Summer. “He’s unpredictable—"
“Just like someone else I know.” Summer looked at me and then clicked her fingers as her eyes widened in sarcastic humor. “Oh yes, that’s right. It’s you! I’m sure I can handle Crook.”
I sighed. This woman was driving me nuts.
Uneasiness grew in my stomach, and I glanced at Crook. His beady eyes stared back at me, mirroring Summer’s defiance.
This day couldn’t get any better, could it.
“Whatever you say, princess,” I said sarcastically.
But inside, the uneasiness was stewing in my gut.
Instinct told me that this was very, very wrong.
Summer squashed my thoughts away by charging past me and opening the door to step into Crook’s private space.
Shocked, I ran after her.
There were ways of winning a horse’s trust, and this wasn’t one of them.
“Summer, don’t.“ I warned.
But she stopped me in her tracks with her gentle movement. She raised her hand up confidently, waiting for Crook to approach her and sniff her hand.
Without hesitating, he trotted over to her and then sniffled, obeying Summer’s command.
Shocked, I caught Summer’s smirk as she tilted her head back to witness my jaw drop.
“I’m good with animals, James. There’s no reason to be afraid of Crook,” she coaxed me, shrugging.
Whoa. She thought I was afraid of Crook? Her and her smart mouth.
I opened my mouth to reply but then closed it again. I had to make sure she had this under control.
“So far so good. But take it easy with him. Anything can set Crook off.”
“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Grouch I got it. Wait, are you sure this horse isn’t like you, actually? Maybe you’ve been reincarnated and have come back in the form of Crook,” Summer teased. I watched her small frame quiver with laughter at her own joke.
Warily, I glanced at Crook. He didn’t seem to mind.
Hell, if I didn’t know any better, it looked like he had taken a liking to Summer.
“I’ll prep him for you,” I stated, not giving her a chance to refuse my offer.
As I stalked in, Crook nodded his head at me in acknowledgement.