Outlaw Cowboy

by Nicole Helm

  “She left.”

  “Why?” Summer demanded, not an ounce of commiseration in her voice.

  “Because she did. You guys won’t understand, and it doesn’t matter, because she is gone and it’s over and I’m not drinking because of some woman. I am tired of carrying all the fucking weight.”

  “You’re so full of shit. You use that excuse, but the truth is you don’t want to carry all the weight. You want to be sad and pathetic. You don’t want to do the hard yards.” His sister, who barely ever yelled at him, who’d spent their childhood and much of his adulthood telling him she’d handle everything, and it would be okay, got in his face, eyes blazing. “You will not make this mistake. I don’t know what happened, or who she is, but don’t make a mistake you can’t fix.”

  “It’s. Done.”

  “Look at me,” Mel instructed.

  He only did because she wouldn’t get out of his way if he didn’t. So he mustered his best fuck-off smile.

  “If you recall, I flew to Chicago and got a husband out of the deal when I stopped being afraid of every damn thing that had to do with love.”

  “This look like the face of a scared man to you?” Because he wasn’t scared. The truth of it was simple. Love wasn’t in the cards for him. Love left.

  Mel frowned, so he looked around the room, challenging anyone.

  “I don’t see a scared man,” Dan said easily. “I see a scared little boy, though.”

  Caleb was up out of his chair before Mel could slam him down again. “You want to say that again, asshole?”

  “You will sit down,” Dad commanded from his chair. “And you will listen to your family, who cares about the choices you make.”

  Caleb stared at Dad incredulously. “Are you including yourself in that ridiculous statement?”

  “She was…a nice girl.”

  “Now I know you’re fucking crazy. Look. Everyone needs to back off. So I slipped up? Last time I checked, I was an adult.”

  “Yet we all think you’re acting like a child,” Summer said as drily as he’d ever heard her.

  “Don’t be a fool when it comes to love, Son.”

  He whirled on Dad. Dad and Dan were the ones he could lash out at, because they weren’t the ones who’d—how’d Mel put it?—put in the hard yards. And yet, it reminded him of Delia, saying Dad talked to her because she didn’t matter.

  Dad mattered. Hell, even Dan mattered in a weird way, so it wasn’t the same, and yet they were the easy targets. They weren’t what he was mad about. But if he couldn’t be mad at them, what the hell would he feel? “Don’t be a fool about love? Because Mom was such a great fucking person to love.”

  “I wasn’t talking about your mother.”

  “Oh, were you talking about us? Because that’s a laugh and a half.”

  “Well, I believe I’ve been a fool.”

  “No one’s going to argue that point, are they?” He looked at Summer and then Mel, both who looked away. “Congratulations. You’re a fucking fool.”

  “This making you feel better, Son? Lashing out at everyone who loves you? Makes you feel like you deserve this failure, only you’re the one choosing it. Same as me.”

  “Oh, and I suppose you want me to magically be the better person here?” How had he chosen this? Delia had been the one to walk away once she could. What better way was there to be?

  “I do.”

  Caleb strode over to Dad and waved an arm toward Summer. “Okay. Do it. Apologize to Summer right here, right now. Promise to do better, and I’ll do the fucking same.” He leaned against the wall and smirked, because he knew exactly what would happen. Dad would wheel away, and he could go back to his comfortable misery.

  But Dad turned his chair toward Summer. “Summer,” he said in a gravelly voice, “I apologize for the way I’ve treated you.”

  “That’s not enough!” Caleb yelled, panic soaring through him. Dad couldn’t just do it. He couldn’t just apologize. He pushed off the wall. “That is not nearly enough—”

  “Sit down and shut up, boy. I ain’t done yet.”

  Caleb didn’t know how to argue with that. He wanted to, but he couldn’t force words out of his mouth. And Summer had to stand there looking so damn hopeful.

  “For a lot of years I’ve failed at figuring out a way to…” Dad cleared his throat, making eye contact with Summer, and it was as if the whole room held its breath, Caleb included. “I made a lot of mistakes. From the moment…” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I was never cut out to be a father. But I hate seeing my son make my same mistakes, because it makes me realize how badly I’ve handled things. I can’t make up for anything. I can’t fix anything, but…I will try to do better. You deserve that. You all do.” He turned his chair abruptly, all but knocking Caleb off his feet. “Your turn,” he muttered and then wheeled away.

  “That hardly counts if you run away,” Caleb shouted after him, but Dad didn’t stop. When Caleb faced the room, Mel and Summer were leaning on each other, crying. Dan was standing behind Mel, a hand on her shoulder.

  Summer sniffled. “It was a start.”

  “Hardly good enough!” Caleb shouted. It wasn’t good enough. Not nearly. It was…nothing. A few words. Words were shit. Absolute shit. You couldn’t fix ruining everyone’s life for years with a few words.

  “It’s a start,” she repeated. “A step. We can’t ever get there if we don’t take them.”

  “Why do you have to be so damn positive all the time? So sure things will work out? Sometimes they don’t fucking work out! Sometimes the people you love are in direct competition with the things you love and the things you need. Sometimes the people you love don’t…” They didn’t love you back. Not in his world.

  “Why do you think we’re here, Caleb?” Summer asked, soft and sad.

  It hit him then, too hard, too out of left field. They’d all rallied around him, yelling and crying, yes. Pushing hard truths at him, not because it was fun, but because they loved him.

  His family who had stuck it out.

  “You have to fix it. Whatever happened. I know you can fix it.” Summer pushed off Mel and walked toward him. “The way you two looked at each other. The way you understood each other.”

  “The way we fucking fought all the damn time? The way she jeopardized everything I was building? The way she walked the second she could?”

  “Well, I didn’t say you two were perfect.”

  Caleb collapsed into the chair, exhausted and wrung out. Any effects of the alcohol were drowned out by pain and confusion and hurt and hopelessness. “Can you all please leave?”

  “You promised Dad,” Mel said on a whisper. “If he made an effort to do better, you would too.”

  He swallowed at the closing feeling in his throat. “You can take the whiskey. Take whatever. I just want to be alone.”

  There was a silence, and he imagined they were all looking at each other, trying to decide.

  “Dan and I will be in my old bedroom. Summer will be in the kitchen. When you’re ready to talk…” Mel rested a hand on his head briefly. “We’ll be here.”

  “Why?” he croaked. He didn’t deserve it any more than he wanted it. Love left, why had these idiots stuck it out?

  “Because this family is done making the same mistakes over and over again.”

  * * *

  It was pitch black everywhere in town except for the neon lights and the faint hum of music coming from the Pioneer Spirit. Delia was exhausted, and yet everything inside of her felt…new. The freezing hike had baptized her. She was a new person, because for the first time in her life, she was going to be her own person.

  Steph and Rose didn’t need her? Good. She was done saving people, including herself. She was ready to live.

  In a jail cell, probably, but it would give her time to figure out what
Delia wanted. She hoped.

  Still, old habits died hard, and sisterly love didn’t die at all, so she had to make sure Rose really had things under control before she gave herself over to whatever might happen.

  It had to be close to closing time, so Delia opened the door and stepped inside. It was small and smoky. Two slumped men sat at the bar, and Rose stood behind it. When her eyes glanced up, she immediately straightened.

  “All right, dipshits. It’s closing time.” She gestured toward the door, so Delia moved out of their path to it.

  “Still gots minutes. Don’t we?” one of the patrons slurred.

  “Nope.”

  “Don’t fuck with me, pretty little girl. I know what time it is and it ain’t closing time.” The man leaned over the bar, and before Delia could rush over and clobber him with something, Rose whipped out a gun.

  “See this beauty? Read the inscription. Come and get it. You try. You die.”

  The men mumbled slurred curses as they stumbled away from the bar and out the door. Rose followed their progress, gun at her side, then flipped all the locks on the door. Then she turned to face Delia.

  Delia tried to smile or say something, but all she could do was focus on not collapsing in a heap at her little sister’s feet.

  “Well. Here you are.”

  “Here I am,” Delia managed. “Just for tonight.”

  “Then where to?”

  Delia swallowed. “I’m in a bit of trouble.”

  Rose flashed a grin. It was a grin that had once gotten her shoulder dislocated. Dad had called it her devil smile. “Did you ever know that you’re my hero?”

  “It’s… I’m probably going to go to jail for a bit.”

  Rose’s grin faded. “What the hell for?”

  “Oh, got roped into some bogus drug charges, and I think it’s time I…turned myself in. But I wanted to make sure you and Steph really have everything—”

  “We’re going to put him away. For good. Steph planned the whole thing. I’m just the money and the muscle. Tomorrow. You can’t turn yourself in. What kind of justice would it be if you went to jail before Dad? I gave you all that money. Go. Go to Seattle. Hell, go to Mexico for all I care, but don’t turn yourself in.”

  “I have to.”

  “No, you don’t.” Rose took her by the shoulders. It was the first time they’d been in the same room, within touching distance in years, and they were arguing. “You think I haven’t wiggled out of a few tight spots? Of course I have. Because I kept fighting. You can’t give up.”

  Delia shook her head. “It isn’t giving up. Maybe giving in a little, but I’m tired of fighting.” So tired. So many years of fighting and barely scraping by. It was time to make her life more than that.

  Rose threw her hands in the air, stalking across the bar. “Fuck that! You have to fight.” She pointed a steady finger at Delia. “That is all there is in this world.”

  Oddly it made her think of Caleb: the way he’d touched her face, the love in his eyes. They fought like crazy, and yet in the end they’d had a rational discussion, an almost pleasant good-bye even. Aside from the whole heart-crushed-to-tiny-bits thing.

  No, there was more to life than fighting, but she couldn’t argue with her sister on that point.

  “Can I just hug you and tell you I love you?”

  Rose all but physically recoiled. “Are you on drugs?”

  “No. I’ve just missed you. And Steph and Billie. Elsie. I’ve been alone so…” Her voice cracked a little, but she straightened her shoulders. “Come here, sissy.”

  In the end, Delia was sure it was the endearment that broke Rose’s resolve. They hugged.

  Delia didn’t know how long they held on to each other, like they had as little girls to get through the scarier nights. “We’ll get through this. We always do. We Rogers women are a tough breed.”

  Rose finally pulled away, sniffling suspiciously, though there were no signs of tears on her cheeks. “Damn straight. You know what you need?”

  Sleep. Another hug. Rose to keep talking so Delia could remember the sound of her voice while she was locked up.

  Rose poured her a drink, and they talked. And talked. They filled each other in on the holes of their lives; Rose outlined Steph’s plan to get Dad locked up and Mom in a facility. They’d done it without her, the perfect plan, and all Delia could do was pray it worked.

  Exhaustion finally won and Delia fell asleep curled up next to Rose on her little couch in the apartment behind the bar.

  When Delia woke up in the morning, her head was clear, her heart was heavy, but she was ready.

  Chapter 23

  Caleb had never talked to Mel or Summer. He hadn’t seen Dad again once he’d wheeled away after bringing Summer to tears.

  Caleb had let them feed him, placate him, and he’d even hugged them and convinced them he simply needed time to think.

  He’d fucked up last night. Drinking had been a stupid thing to do, especially over something so…anticlimactic. In the past, and without his family’s “intervention,” he would have drowned himself in it, then spent days if not weeks pitying himself over the fall.

  He’d woken up exhausted and achy, and yet somehow…seeing the way his family had come together, Dad’s apology…it had changed something.

  He was never going to be a perfect man, but he’d figured out how to be a decent enough one. He was never going to make all the right choices, but he could probably stop acting like the wrong ones were the end of the world.

  In other words, he could man the fuck up and own up to his mistakes. He didn’t want to be his father, apologizing years down the line, possibly years too late.

  No, he didn’t want to be that man, or the one he’d been, and really, the sad fact of the matter was nothing was stopping him. Except himself.

  He got to the barn, ready to sort the feed. Usually the morning after any sort of screwup, he would wallow. That niggling instinct was there. Forget it. He’d already fucked it up. What was the point of trying?

  But somehow he’d found the point in trying. Somewhere in the past few months. He wasn’t even sure how or why, but wallowing sounded shitty. Maybe it was because no matter how many times he wallowed, he still ended up having to get up. Work. Live. Feel.

  It was not his favorite realization, but it was life. He was tired of trying to escape it.

  He went through feeding the cows, checking the fence. The sun rose, and though he felt determined to move forward, damn certain he was going to make up for last night’s stumble, there was something missing.

  He didn’t feel his heart soar with the sunrise. The walk across Shaw property didn’t ease away the weight on his shoulders. He felt like he was going to a job he didn’t particularly love.

  That—that—he didn’t understand at all. The love for this place and this work had kept him going when there wasn’t a whole lot else going for him.

  He scrubbed both hands over his face, itching his fingers through the beard he’d let grow in the past few days. He’d made the decision to be an adult, to move forward and not stick in his own misery or let one mistake ruin everything. Where was his fucking rainbow?

  Probably on a train bound for Seattle. He pushed that thought away. Was one person important enough to make everything else seem pointless? So he really could turn into his father and be a lump of shit when some woman left him?

  She left because of you.

  Dad didn’t really fall apart until he was paralyzed.

  Got a husband out of the deal when I stopped being afraid of every damn thing that had to do with love.

  Caleb tried to shake away the voices. See? Mom was right. There was something not right about him. Arguing with himself. Repeating things other people had said.

  Besides, he wasn’t scared of love. He’d been about to tell her, hadn’t he? />
  And you let her go. You didn’t even give her a chance to stay.

  Before he could punch himself to stop the stupid, rational voice in his head, Tyler’s truck appeared on the ridge.

  Greeeeeeeat.

  Tyler jerked his truck into park at the barn and then hopped out. He wasn’t happy, and not just his typical stick up the ass. His face was full of anger and frustration.

  He stalked across the way, and Caleb refused to budge. The man wanted to snarl at him, he could damn well take the paces to get here.

  “It’s all over town that you were talking with Rose Rogers.”

  “Good morning to you too, Tyler. Nice weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

  Tyler took a deep breath, a slight flare of his nostrils the only sign he wanted to throttle Caleb to the ground. Ah, the fun of getting under someone’s cool and collected veneer. “You were talking with her on Main Street. Middle of the day. For a while.”

  No point in denying it, though he was a little surprised at the vehemence of Tyler’s disgust. “Yeah. So?”

  “If you recall, part of our contract is you not fraternizing with undesirable elements.”

  “Undesirable elements? You don’t have any friends, do you?”

  “You talking to her, more than in passing, is a concern to me. And my business. I can’t trust someone like you near my cattle when you keep in contact with someone like her. Everything you touch is compromised when that is the company you keep.”

  “What the hell has Rose Rogers ever done to you?”

  Tyler’s lips flattened so they almost disappeared. “Are you going to deny that you’re friends with her?”

  “Well, yeah, that’s probably the first time I talked to her since she was a kid. And she approached me, and she was talking to me about Summer, since Summer works there.” Why was he defending himself? This was ridiculous. Why was he doing this? Just so he could convince Mel to put his name on the papers, to keep him in charge?