What It Takes (A Dirt Road Love Story)

by Sonya Loveday

  A burst of cold wind swept into the room as if punctuating the bitter truth.

  “Some might call it a sign of the times. Most ranches are selling out because it’s getting too hard to do it the old way,” I answered.

  Randy hung the push broom back in its place on the wall. “Be winter soon. Winter in Texas ain’t nothin’ compared to here. Snow up to your ass and wind sharp enough to cut right through you. You ever worked on a snowmobile before?”

  “I’ve worked on just about everything else. Can’t see as it would be too difficult.”

  “Good answer. Let’s go get them pulled out of the barn and we’ll see if we can’t do something with them.”

  There was a light dusting of white when I woke the next morning, making the ground look as if it had been sprinkled with powdered sugar. The snow had come down before daybreak as the weatherman had predicted. It would be falling heavier by nightfall.

  My breath came out in puffs of white, like cigar smoke, with every exhale. Each whipping burst of air slapped at my cheeks like stinging nettles as I crossed the yard to the barn. It was a sticky snow that clumped at the bottom of my pant legs.

  The barn door hinges creaked as I opened it just enough to slip inside. The horses stirred inside theirs stalls, some shifting to poke their noses out over the rails, chuffing in welcome.

  Early morning had always been my favorite part of the day. The quietness giving me time to wake up without having to rush about, and I enjoyed a few moments of peace before the rest of the ranch woke up. Back home, Ghost would be bumping the stall door to get my attention, hoping to be the first one to get an ear scratch. Buxby would be bobbing his head, whickering. I missed home with an ache that went deeper than the cold.

  By midday the snow had melted, leaving everything waterlogged. By early evening, the remaining puddles turned into solid sheets of ice.

  I’d stopped carrying my phone around. There wasn’t any point in it. Lex and I hardly spoke but once a month, and it was usually me who called him from a landline since reception was so spotty up in the mountains to check how things were going. He never mentioned Gracen, and neither did I. Without it in my back pocket, it felt as though I’d taken some of the guilt and left it behind for the day. But it never truly went away. I never stopped thinking about Gracen. Never could stop thinking about her. She would be a part of me for the rest of my life. Probably long after that, too.

  At least there was a break in calving. All the calves were in the stages of newborn or yearling. Heifers that had weaned were sectioned off and allowed a short break before being inseminated again. Randy had hit it on the head. Everything that Benton Farms stood for was the complete opposite of how I was raised. Of what I knew. Sure, we’d raised cows to fill our own freezers, but we also had steers we sold at market. Bulls we used for breeding, and heifers that were rotated so as not to be overbred. There was a delicate balance in how Owens’ ranch was run. It wasn’t a huge moneymaker, but it did well enough to keep the ranch going, pay the hands, and have a little to set by in the lean times.

  I’d gone over and over it until I knew in my heart what I needed to do. When spring came, I’d make the call to Grant and see if his job offer still stood.

  Once I doubled checked the horses for the night, I closed off the barn, hunched into my jacket, and stepped out into a swirling snow globe.

  Inside, my room was toasty warm. Shaking my jacket, I hung it on the peg just inside the door. I toed my shoes free and peeled my clothes off, tossing them in my laundry basket instead of tracking melting snow in my wake to the bathroom.

  After a quick shower, I pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt. The chill hadn’t entirely left my bones. It probably wouldn’t until spring, considering how cold October had turned out to be.

  I pulled out the makings for coffee and was just about turn the pot on when my phone vibrated on the counter seconds before it rang.

  A smile tugged at my lips as I answered.

  "Happy birthday, little brother," Lex said over the pop and hiss of our connection.

  Chapter 15

  Gracen

  There were times when I could kick my own ass. Telling Slade I wasn’t the right one for him had been the stupidest mistake of my life.

  I’d tested him.

  He failed.

  He’d taken the path I’d so clearly paved as an out for him all the way to Montana.

  Every day, I ached for him to return. And with every day that passed that he didn’t even call, I cursed his name for walking away.

  I had to stop torturing myself.

  I had to move on.

  He’d been gone for five months. Five damn months… and not once had he reached out to me. Not once. It hurt. It hurt so bad I wanted to curl up and die from it, but I refused to give in. That he’d left so easily proved my point about love. The right one wouldn’t up and leave you. They’d fight for you. Slade hadn’t done that. Instead, he’d taken my excuses and ran with them. Could I fault him for it?

  Yes.

  No.

  We should have never let a physical relationship come between us. Should have never used each other, as brief as it was, to hold on to something that was clearly disappearing right before our eyes. But what I missed the most was his friendship. His steadfastness. Him.

  As time when on, every second of every day seemed to get a little easier. I’d never truly get over how Slade had just up and walked away. I’d never be able to think back on it and not want to crawl into a corner, or maybe even turn back time. No matter how much I wished I could, life kept moving, pushing me along with it like a bobber tied to a fishing line.

  Clint took me fishing a couple of times, but that ended one day when I caught a bigger fish than him and did a celebratory dance like I’d always done with Slade. Clint had sneered at me, telling me to grow up and stop acting like a child.

  It only got worse—his attitude and the way he treated me. Like all the newness had worn off and his tarnished true colors shined through.

  It was a hell of my own making. And partly Slade’s too. Had he stuck around, I never would have given Clint the time of day.

  I should have known better after the first time Clint lost his temper with me. But there was no rewind button on life. No point in which we could set ourselves back to the trigger point when all the signs were there. No ability to blink and erase it to start back over. If there had been, I would have thrown Clint out of my house and told Lex to keep him away from me.

  Something broke inside me after Slade left. Made me go through stages of grief as if he’d died. Disbelief, anger, and then sadness. So much sadness. I’d moped for days. Cried myself to sleep. I’d cursed his name, and then cursed my stupidity. But then one day I woke up, feeling nothing but emptiness. That was when Clint swept in. When I really lost myself. It had been the moment when I realized that nothing would change. Slade wasn’t coming back. Hell, he couldn’t even be bothered to pick up the phone and call.

  “Are you planning on staring out the window all night, or are you going to make dinner?” Clint asked, startling me.

  Shit. I’d lost track of time. “No, I was just about to start it.”

  “It should have already been in the oven,” he sneered as I pushed myself away from the window with an inward sigh.

  “What the hell is that in your hand?” He lurched forward, ripping the strip of fair photos Slade had kept tucked into the corner of his mirror.

  My hand shot out to grab it from him, but he slapped it away. “I was cleaning and found it.”

  It was a complete lie. I’d taken it from Slade’s house and tucked it into one of the books on my bookshelf when Clint decided he liked sleeping at my house better than he did Slade’s old one.

  “What the fuck is this?” His cheeks flushed as he took a step toward me, waving the picture in my face.

  I moved back a step as he grabbed high on my arm, fingers digging into muscle deep enough I cried out. “Let me go, Clint.
”

  He dropped the picture on the floor and grabbed my other arm. Holding me tight with both hands, he shook me hard enough to rattle my teeth. “I don’t take orders from you, bitch. It’s best you remember that.”

  He shoved me back so hard I scrambled to stay upright. Anger made me want to lash out at him, but I knew better. Clint was an abusive man and wasn’t above decking me to get his point across. But what Clint didn’t understand was I wasn’t going to be the meek and timid little girl who would put up with his shit any longer.

  “Get. Out,” I said, tipping my chin up as I pointed to the door.

  He laughed.

  “I’m not kidding. Get out of my house and don’t come back.” I forced myself to walk past him, heading to the front door with the intention of opening it and then closing it firmly behind him.

  What I hadn’t expected, but should have, was how he’d react to that. Before I could get past the reach of his arms, his hand snaked out and snatched me backward by my ponytail, swinging me into the living room wall. My head hit it with a sickening smack before I could get my arm up.

  Clint’s hand shot out, wrapping around my throat as I slid down the wall. The pressure on my neck cut off my air as he used his hold to haul me up to my feet.

  I yanked on his arm with one hand and tried to pry his fingers loose with the other, but his grip was firm as he stared into my eyes. “Here’s the way it’s gonna be. You do as I say, not the other way around. I’m not leaving. You are mine, and you’ll be mine until I decide otherwise.” His fingers squeezed tighter. “Do you understand?”

  I couldn’t cry out. Couldn’t breathe. Something told me Clint was just crazy enough to keep squeezing until I blacked out from lack of oxygen. It hurt like hell to move, but I nodded my head, hoping he’d let go.

  The pressure eased, but not all at once. It seemed like he got some sort of sick pleasure out of holding my life in his hands. As soon as he let my neck go, I doubled over, gasping for air.

  He left me there on the floor and went into the kitchen. The refrigerator door opened and closed, followed by the sound of a beer cracking open before Clint walked past me, plopped his ass on the couch, and picked up the TV remote.

  Lucy whined at the back door, pawing at it when I didn’t let her right in.

  Clint pushed from the couch, beating me to the door. Lucy shot past him, whining as she bumped me with her nose and paws. She knew something wasn’t right, and she wasn’t going to settle until I assured her it was okay.

  I knelt, putting my hand out and scratching her behind the ears, unable to talk past the throbbing in my throat. When I tried to speak, it came out as a croak that left me coughing and gasping with each contraction of muscle in my neck.

  Lucy danced in agitation as I bent my head. Wiping my eyes, I tried to swallow past the pain. Her body turned to push against my arms as if offering me a place to lay my head. Offering me something to hold onto.

  I didn’t see it coming. Couldn’t have stopped it even if I did. Lucy’s body slammed into mine, and we both went over. Her yelp pierced my ears. Her cry tore at something primitive in me. I came up from the floor and lunged over Lucy. The poor dog panted as she tried to struggle to her feet, which only made my blood boil more. Running at Clint full tilt, I used my shoulder to take him down.

  We rolled along the living room floor, both trying to get the upper hand. My fist shot out, punching him wherever I could, but he was stronger, faster. He caught my arm in his, bringing his open hand across my face. My head snapped to the side, ears ringing as he stood up and towered over me.

  I rolled, curling into a tight ball, arms over my head to protect it, but it left my side open to several kicks. There was no where I could go to get away from him. Nothing I could do to stop the madness that had taken hold of him when he forced me onto my back and climbed on top of me. One hand covered my mouth as the other clamped down on my neck.

  His hot, yeast-scented breath shot up my nose as he brought his face close to mine. “Do you like being punished, Gracen? Is this what you want?” He shoved one of his knees between my legs, forcing them apart. Settling himself between my thighs, he ground his erection against me. “Because now you’re gonna get it. And so help me, if you fight it, it will only get worse.”

  Black dots swarmed around me, dotting my eyes. A sort of humming in my ears started. I couldn’t get a full breath. Couldn’t summon enough strength to crawl more than a few feet away when he let go of me long enough to yank his belt free from his jeans.

  He grabbed my ankles and pulled me back in one swift jerk. I twisted, using the last of my energy to roll away. If I could just get to my feet, I’d run out the door and scream as loud as I could. Someone would hear me. Someone would stop him.

  He backhanded me again. The taste of blood flooded my mouth and ran down my throat, choking me as he brought both sides of the leather belt together with a loud crack, laughing when I flinched.

  I tried covering my face and turning my body away so that each stroke he lashed out with would catch my back. It pissed him off. I could hear the heavy buckle jingle as he shook it next to my face. I didn’t have to see what was coming. I felt it in the air. It whistled as the belt buckle came down across the back of my head.

  Blackness, like the kind only found at the bottom of a well, welcomed me as I heard a series of sharp yips followed by a low growl. I tumbled into an abyss I could only hope I met Lucy in.

  Chapter 16

  Slade

  There was a stillness in the sounds that surrounded a hospital setting. The whoosh and whirl of air moving from machine to body. The faint beep, signaling a heart rate. There was also that smell. An exact name couldn’t be put to it, but people would know it anywhere. Some might relate it to fear while others related it to loss. As for me, I could only feel numb from it. Scent and sound became one thing to me. Terror.

  I’d driven day and night with countless horrific images flashing in my mind. Lex’s words were on automatic replay. Every damn mile, I had to will myself to keep it together.

  “Mr. Owens?” I jerked in response to my name.

  I nodded. “Slade. Slade Owens.”

  The nurse on duty walked to the other side of the hospital bed and pulled her stethoscope from around her neck as she said, “Visiting hours are over, Mr. Owens.”

  “Can you give me a few more minutes? I just got in and—”

  Her eyes roamed my face. Under her stern mask, I caught a brief flicker of sympathy. “Five more minutes, Mr. Owens, and then you’ll have to go.”

  My sandpaper-coated eyelids slowly blinked as I nodded. “Thank you.”

  She whisked out after giving me a tight smile.

  I didn’t want to leave. Didn’t think I had the strength left in me to even rise from the chair I’d pulled up alongside the hospital bed. My eyes felt heavier and heavier with each passing second. Slipping my hand under Gracen’s, I rubbed my thumb over her knuckles, wishing she’d open her eyes. I knew there was no chance since they had her heavily sedated, but I wanted her to.

  She was busted from head to toe. Bruises marred her skin with black and purple shadows. Her face was swollen. Gauze bandages were wrapped around her head, around the contusion the doctors said was on the back. Her neck was dotted with fingertip-sized bruises that pulsed in time with her heartbeat. A soft cast encased her arm until some of the swelling went down so that a hard cast could be fit, if it did turn out to be broken. Seeing her like that wrecked me. Knowing she couldn’t feel any of the pain didn’t make it much better, but at least she wasn’t suffering. That would come later when she woke up.

  With all the wires and tubes connected to her, she looked like a science experiment gone wrong.

  “Slade?” Lex called from the open doorway.

  I let go of Gracen’s hand and stood, hoping my legs would hold me as I bent over and placed my lips to her forehead, whispering. “More than cheese and crackers, Gray.”

  I moved from her bed to the hallway
in a fog. Lex walked beside me in silence until we got to the parking lot. “Why don’t you leave your truck here and I’ll drive you back to the ranch?”

  Lex didn’t try to follow me when I shook my head and walked off, but I could feel his eyes burning into my back all the way across the lot. The lone sound of his truck starting came to me as I unlocked mine and opened the back door of the extended cab. I’d slept in worse places.

  Tossing my hat on the front seat, I turned as Lex pulled up beside me and rolled his window down. He looked about as tired as I felt. “I have to go by the police station in the morning. After, I’ll go and check on Lucy. Call me if there are any changes.”

  He knew I wouldn’t leave, not until she woke up, and not even then.

  With his arm draped along the open window, he pinched the bridge of his nose and pulled in a deep breath before letting it go with a heavy sigh. “She’ll be all right, Slade. I know she will, but I can’t keep seeing it… ya know. How did I miss the signs? It was all right there under my nose and…” His jaw worked back and forth, muscles clenching as he fought to keep his emotions under control.

  I didn’t know what to say. Lex’s demons were as soul-shredding as my own.

  “And worse… worse, I want to blame you for leaving, and myself for getting so caught up with everything else. I can’t close my eyes. Every time I close my eyes, I see them laying there. And I want to tell you every horrible detail and make you suffer just like I am, but I know that’s not fair either. What the hell am I supposed to do with all this anger? This rage?”

  “You didn’t fail her, Lex. I did.” I turned my back on him, got in my truck, and slammed the door closed. I couldn’t handle his guilt. I had too much of my own.