Текст книги "Finders Keepers"

Автор книги: Nicole Williams

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

A chance. That was all I could ask for with Josie. But to give someone a chance, there had to be a probability—small as it might have been—of things turning out okay. We didn’t have even a minuscule probability of turning out all right if we gave us a try. I couldn’t give her a chance because I didn’t have one to give. “It’s too late.”

“You’re a fucking liar.” Another pillow flew at me. “You’re taking the coward’s way out, and if you do this, if you walk away because you’re afraid of hurting me, or messing things up, or whatever it is you’re so terrified of, I’ll never forgive you. You leave me again, and I’ll hate you for the rest of my life.”

I grimaced as pain flooded me. I wanted nothing more than to gather her up in my arms and fall asleep together like we had the past few weeks together. That was all I wanted. “That’s okay, Joze. I understand. Hate’s a good thing. It will help you heal quicker. It’ll keep the wound from going too deep and the scar from being too obvious. If hating me’ll make this easier for you, you’ve got my permission to hate me for all of eternity.” Damn, I needed some whiskey. Bottle after bottle after bottle until I’d had enough I forgot her name, and the red cowgirl boots she’d been wearing the first day I met her, and the way hair lightened every summer, and every one of the billion fucking memories I had of Josie Gibson. She wanted to hate me, but I wanted to forget her. Forgetting her was the only way I could survive without her. It wouldn’t be much of a life, nothing more than survival, but I wouldn’t even be able to manage that if I couldn’t find some way to erase her from my mind.

“I’m not asking for your permission,” she snapped. A moment later, her face fell as she slid off the edge of the bed. Josie looked as broken as I felt, and the worst part was not being able to comfort her. “I don’t want to hate you. But there’s no other place to put this love I have for you. It doesn’t just go away, you know? I can’t just flick a switch, and Poof! it’s gone. I can’t just build it one day and dump it the next. It’s always going to be a part of me. If I can’t love you, those intense feelings will morph into something just as intense, but the total opposite. My love for you will have nowhere to go but hate. I’m going to hate you . . . and that breaks my heart.” She started crying, and if I wasn’t so resolved, that would have been my tipping point.

I took one last look at her—curled into herself and crying on the floor. That would be my last memory of my Josie. The girl I’d made a silent vow to always protect, always take care of . . . and she was destroyed thanks to me. The ball in my throat was close to suffocating me. I grabbed my bag and opened that door realizing one thing—Josie would move on to live a happy and full life. Maybe not tomorrow, and maybe not next month, but eventually. She’d find love and protection and consistency in the arms of another man.

“But at least you’ve still got a heart left to break, Joze,” I whispered before leaving the room, the house, and the girl all behind.

DAYS TURNED INTO weeks, and weeks turned into months. I could finally look in a mirror without wanting to slam my fist through it. That first month after leaving Josie, I couldn’t count how many shattered mirrors I left in my wake. Looking in a mirror and hating the person staring back at me wasn’t new, but what had changed was that the eyes staring back were the same ones Josie had looked into as she admitted her love for me. She’d looked into those eyes and said it again and again and again before they had turned away and betrayed her.

I’d hated myself for so long it didn’t feel like hate anymore, but that . . . ? I didn’t have a word extreme or intense enough for how I felt about myself. Utter self-loathing was the closest I could get, but that seemed way too cute for how I really felt.

After leaving the Gibsons’ that night, I’d headed east. I didn’t have any plans. I just went until my gas tank was empty and I felt as physically exhausted as my mind did. I was in Billings. Even though it was my first time there and I didn’t know a thing about it, I moved into a motel room I could rent by the month or the hour and made it home. I didn’t know a single person in or around Billings. It was perfect. I didn’t want to know anybody, and I didn’t want anybody to know me. I found work at an old man’s ranch just outside of town, a place to practice bull riding, and tried to purge my mind of all things Josie. I watched the sunrise that morning after I left her, knowing she would wake up hating me. She was right—that kind of love didn’t just shrivel up and die. It ran too deep and had weaved too far inside of us to just fade away. It was imprinted on our very cores. That kind of love couldn’t be weeded out, so it changed and darkened and morphed into what Josie said—hate. I felt it, too. In my case, it was extreme hate for myself, not for her. So the good thing we had—the best thing I’d ever experienced—I’d managed to twist and break and transform until it turned into thick and heavy hate. I really was a virus.

A month had passed when I recognized one of Willow Springs’s seasonal ranch hands walking into the feed store in downtown Billings. I headed straight back to the motel, packed my duffle, got in my truck, and didn’t stop driving until it was empty again. I wound up in Baker, about as far east as a person could go and still be in Montana. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to stay in the same state I’d grown up in. The same one my mom had fled from, my dad’s charred ashes were blowing through, and where the girl I’d loved and destroyed was. Nothing was behind me but a mountain of bad memories, so if I hadn’t been about empty on gas and money, I would have kept going until I’d crossed into North Dakota.

I worked at another ranch, I rode bulls at another arena, and another month passed. I knew, in theory, my life was going on, but it felt like it had stagnated. Most of it I’d left hundreds of miles west. I’d even left behind two of my favorite pastimes: whiskey and women. I hadn’t had a single sip or felt a single woman beneath me since I left the only home I’d ever known. I knew part of the reason for my newfound abstinence was because I just felt numb. I didn’t need a drink or a woman to help me get there because that was my steady state anymore. The other part, the main part, was doing it for her. She’d never know, but I couldn’t let the love she’d given me and all that she’d sacrificed to be with me be for nothing. I wanted to stay changed, even if we couldn’t be together. I wanted her sacrifice to be matched by one of mine. I wanted her love to leave me changed forever so, somehow, I’d always carry it with me. Saying no to the Jack and the girls was the only way I could honor the love she’d given me. It was all that was left of it because her love had turned to hate.

So I cut off all ties with my old life. Since I didn’t have a cell phone, no one from my old life could reach me. It would only be a matter of time before I ran into someone or someone tracked me down, but I was too busy living in the moment to think about the future. Even five minutes into it.

It was a Friday night, and I was competing in a small-time rodeo just outside of Baker. I didn’t know why I bothered to enter. I still hadn’t managed a single eight-second ride in practice, so I had no reason to think riding in an actual competition would be any different. I suppose, as time had proven again and again, I was a glutton for punishment.

I was up next, and when the guy before me flew out of the gates, I crouched down to scoop up a handful of dirt. Cupping it, I shook my hand and let the dirt sift between my fingers. It was the first time I’d done it, but I’d seen it done plenty of times. When Clay made it to my rodeos, he could always be found staggering around, sifting a handful of dirt between his fingers. I guess it was something he’d picked up from his dad and used to do as a bull rider himself. I asked him once why he did it, and he’d answered—well, he’d slurred—how could a man expect to stay on top when he didn’t know what was below him? It hadn’t made sense to me then, and it still didn’t make sense to me. But back in his day, Clay Black had been a bull riding legend, so I figured if shaking some arena dirt through his fingers had worked for Clay, I wasn’t above trying it. I’d tried everything else—might as well.

The guy ahead of me managed to stay on a full eight and earned a decent score. Lucky bastard. When my name was called, I dusted off my hands, climbed the chute, and got into position. I didn’t know anything about the bull I’d drawn. I didn’t know anything about the rodeo, or the people competing, or the people in attendance. The only thing I knew was that I had to stay on the back of that damn thing because that was all I had left in life. Bull riding and eight seconds. Those were the last things I had to look forward to, the only things left to aspire to. Sad and pathetic, but the truth. So I weaved my hand through the rope, lifted my other, and emptied my head.

I should have known better. As soon as it was empty, she leapt into it. Josie always had a way of doing that—sneaking up on me when I least expected it. The image of her below me, holding my face and telling me she loved me, rushed into my head. It wasn’t in a hurry to rush out. It stayed until I didn’t see or hear the arena. All I heard and saw was her and those three words. The image was so painful, I winced . . . and the chute flew open. I remembered where I was a moment too late. That bull bucked before hurling into a spin, and I caught so much air I might have been suspended for eight seconds.

But I’d barely made it one on that back of that bull. When I hit the ground, I landed on my chest. My face hit next. I knew what the dirt felt like, and I knew what it tasted like: cow shit and failure. Shoving to a stand, I spit out a mouthful of dirt and chucked my hat across the arena. I didn’t notice the crowd, and I didn’t turn around to make sure the clowns were doing their jobs. I stomped out of that arena swearing if I never saw another one or another bull, I’d be just fine.

Once I’d leapt over the fence, I wandered until I had some space and could curse at the bloody moon without offending anyone too much. Life was shit, and that was what I had to look forward to for the rest of my life. Lonely nights, hard-worked days, and humiliating rides where I personally insulted the sport of bull riding.

Fuck my life.

“I don’t know who looked more pissed off out there. You or the bull,” a familiar voice said behind me as my hat landed at my feet. “Actually, I take that back. You were definitely the most pissed one. By a long shot.”

I was already smirking when I twisted around. “Why if it isn’t the girl who isn’t afraid to let her freak flag fly.”

“Nope. I’m not afraid to be who I am. Or love who I love.” She smirked right back, lifting an eyebrow.

“Rowen Sterling.” I looked around. No sign of Jesse . . . or anyone else.

“Garth Black. Minus the enthusiasm,” she threw back.

“What? Really? No enthusiasm? I thought that, if nothing else, one misfit could drudge up some enthusiasm for another.” I grabbed my hat and beat it against my chaps to get the dirt off.

“It’s hard to drudge up any enthusiasm when the best man’s been missing for two months and the wedding is in two days.”

Along with the life I’d left behind, I’d lost track of time as well. Could it be June already? “Yeah . . . about that . . .”

“Save it. I don’t care what you have to say about that right now. All I care about is you getting your ass in that truck of yours and getting to the wedding on Sunday. I’m tired from tracking you down, and I’m tired from putting centerpieces together, and I’m tired from being kept up all night, so shut your mouth already.”

Taking a closer look, Rowen did look beat. Her clothes were rumpled, most of her hair had fallen from her braid, and her eyes were bloodshot. I sat on one the bottom of one of the empty bleacher sections. “Tell Jesse to stop keeping you up all night with his sex marathons so you can get some sleep then.” I waited for Rowen to fire something back. The only time she’d let me get the last word in was never, and I was expecting more of the same.

“Unfortunately it isn’t Jesse who’s been keeping me up all night.”

I arched an eyebrow as she plopped down on the bench beside me. “Not even married and already checking to see if that grass really is greener on the other side?”

I scooted out of reach just before her elbow came at me. “The person who’s been keeping me up is the same person whose heart you broke before pulling your vanishing act.”

“Josie?” It was painful thinking about her and twice as much so saying her name.

Rowen nodded. “Josie.”

“How’s she doing?” I asked, staring at the ground.

“I’d tell you if I thought you had a right to know. Which you don’t. You giant. Ass. Hole.”

“I’m not going to argue with you on that. Not even for fun.” I dropped my head into my hands and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to brace myself against the pain shredding through me like tiny pieces of glass.

Rowen didn’t say anything for a while. Silence, when the two of us were together, was a rare thing. “Whoa. You really are miserable, aren’t you?” Rowen scooted closer and awkwardly wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “So you’re miserable. And Josie’s miserable. Why the hell did you up and disappear again?”

God, for so many damn reasons that didn’t seem important anymore. “You, Rowen, of all people should understand why I had to leave.”

“I might understand why you thought about doing it, but not why you actually did it.” She gave me a few pats on the back before removing her arm. Thankfully. Rowen might be able to express her affection for Jesse like a champ, but she was an awkward mess around everyone else still. Figuring out how to give affection took a while since she’d been denied it most of her life—I understood that well. “You know I worried about the same things you’re worried about: hurting the person you love, destroying their chance for a happy life. But I finally realized something,”—Rowen nudged me—“I’ve got some pretty great stuff to give, too. The Jesses and the Josies of the world aren’t the only ones with something to give. We—the misunderstood misfits of the world—do too.”

I huffed and shook my head. I might have had something to give, but I couldn’t figure out how to give it without destroying the person I wanted to give it to.

She said, “People like you and me, kids who grew up fighting for every single ounce of love that came our way . . . When we find that person we want to love, we give them a pure and boundless form of it because we know what it’s like to be denied it. We know the opposite of love so well, we go a full one-eighty when we find that special someone.”

I gave Rowen a half-smile. “And how does your ‘special someone’ feel about that pure and boundless love of yours?”

“Pretty fucking fantastic. Something your special someone never got the chance to feel because you acted like a giant. Ass. Hole.”

“You know what the nice thing is about being at a zero in the self-esteem department?” I asked with some sarcasm. “Not being able to go any lower when you fire insults off at me.”

“I’m not trying to insult you. I’m trying to knock, beat, shake, or bitch slap some sense into you.”

“So yeah, you’ve got a point. I behaved like a giant asshole, but I had to. It was the only way she’d let me go. Now that she has, she can find someone else to experience that boundless love shit with. She’ll find it with someone else,” I said, ending in almost a whisper.

“With someone else? Who the hell do you think Josie’s ever going to find that she’s going to be happy with if it’s not you?” Rowen looked like she was considering thumping me on the back of the head, so I scooted farther down the bench. “Colt Mason? Some other sweet country boy who bores her to tears?” I shrugged. “Puh-lease. The only boy Josie’s going to be happy with is you, and if she chooses to settle down with someone else, she’s just going to be pretending.”

“According to you,” I replied. I wondered if they’d let me ride again. That would at least get me out of having that conversation with Rowen. I’d rather eat another dozen mouthfuls of dirt than talk about Josie and what her future would be like with some other man.

“According to her, you giant—”

“Ass. Hole,” I filled in. “Yeah, I caught that the first fifty times.” And then what she’d said set in. “Josie said that? She actually told you the only person she’d be happy with is me?”

“Would it change your mind if I told you the truth?” She crossed her legs and swung her foot, waiting.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.” It was an honest answer, but not the one she’d been hoping for.

“Listen, Black, I know you love her. I also know you’ve never told her that, and based on the coward’s way out you’ve taken, you likely never will. That’s just the saddest thing I’ve ever heard, especially since you’ve loved her for so long.” Rowen wagged her finger at me, narrowing her eyes in a way that gave away she had been spending lots of time with Josie.

“It took me a little longer to figure out that Josie loves you too because she doesn’t act like the total idiot you do when she’s around. But I know she does, and I know she has for a while. I don’t know if that love started before or after Jesse and her split up, but I know it’s been there for a long time. Why the hell are you just throwing that all away without giving it a chance? If the love you two have has lasted this long while you’ve acted like you hate each, why wouldn’t it last if you tried actually showing that love to each other?” She stopped just long enough to suck in a breath. “Why don’t you give it a chance? A real one?” I exchanged a look with her. One that didn’t need words to explain. “Oh yeah, that’s right. Thinking about yourself again. What a surprise.”

So I guess the look I’d given her did need to be explained. “I’m thinking about everyone but myself, for Christ’s sake.” I pulled off my leather gloves and tossed them so far I didn’t see where they landed. “Haven’t you heard? I’m a virus. The kind who can’t help but infect everyone around me.”

Rowen nodded, giving me almost a . . . sympathetic look. That was a first. “So that’s what her dad told you, eh? That you’re a virus? One who’s going to ruin his precious daughter? Blah, blah, blah . . .” Rowen rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Yeah, that was about the gist of it. Along with lots of that blah, blah, blah stuff, too.” I looked over at her from the corner of my eyes, and when I found her doing the same thing, we laughed. That was the first damn laugh I’d had in two months, and even though it was over in two seconds, it felt good. It felt. Which meant my numb shell was cracking. I couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad thing.

“You know what, Garth?”

“I don’t know much,” I mumbled.

She shook her head. “Screw what her dad thinks. This is your life to live. And that’s her life to live. You only get one go around, so makes some mistakes, love who you want to love, and forget the rest.” Rowen jumped up from the bleacher about halfway through her speech.

“Screw her parents? Is that something I should shout in the middle of a family dinner? Screw you, Mr. and Mrs. Gibson. I love your daughter and she loves me and I want her to have my babies, but first I want to make wild love to her like a man on death row.”

Rowen laughed with me again. “You might not want to say screw you at the dinner table because that’s just rude, but I think you’re good to go with the rest.”

“Shit, Rowen,” I said as my laughter dimmed, “what are you really doing here?” I couldn’t tell if she was trying to get me to come back, or admit I was wrong, or if she wanted me to get on the phone and apologize to Josie. She could have been there for all of those reasons, plus a few dozen more.

“For a whole lot of reasons.” Of course. Figures. She came toward me, stopping in front of me. “I’m here to remind you of a promise you made to your best friend to be his best man. The wedding’s at seven. Be there early. In something presentable preferably. No wedding gift required. And if you don’t make it, no big deal—don’t even sweat it. I’ll just rip your balls off later.” She said that with a straight face, and I knew better than to think she was bluffing. My hands automatically covered my dick. “I’m here to remind you that you left Neil and Rose with no notice and short-handed, and they’re already having to run that place without Jesse. You owe them an apology in the least, but returning for the summer and working your ass off would be better.” I felt like I was being lectured, but I understood why—I was being lectured. “And I’m here to remind you that your other best friend—you know, the one who admitted she loved you but you were too chicken-shit to admit you loved back . . . that person? You didn’t only break her heart, you crushed her.” Rowen lowered her face until she was at eye level with me. “Fix it.”

I saw a pattern evolving with the couple of women I’d let past my walls. They had a way of fucking up my mind good. Josie first, and now Rowen. I needed time to digest everything she’d just said. I couldn’t just respond to all that after a moment’s thought. Finally, I cleared my throat and shook my head to clear it. “Anything else, Ms. Sterling-soon-to-be-Mrs. Walker?”

“Mrs. Sterling-Walker,” she corrected.

“Ah, hell. You’re actually doing the hyphenated name thing? Sterling-Walker?” I clapped and chuckled. “What did Jesse think of that decision?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” she replied with a shrug. “It was his idea.”

“Pussy-whipped, bleeding heart—”

Rowen leaned back down again and patted my cheek. “You can deny it all you want, but we all know you’ve been a member of that club for a while.” I glowered as she headed for the parking lot. “Oh, you know, there was something else.” She snapped and glanced back. “I’m here to remind you that you’re an asshole and to order you to stop being such a giant one. Give it a rest, Black. It’s getting old.” Shooting me a smile, she continued on. “See you in two days.”

I grumbled at the ground, then sighed. “Rowen?” I stood. She paused and turned to me with a smile, like she knew I’d have something else for her. Damn that women’s intuition thing. “Josie and me? You really think we’ve got a chance at making it?

Her smile spread. “There’s only one way to find out.” With a wink, Rowen continued on her way and left me to work out the biggest mindfuck I’d dealt with to date.