“What was that?” I call out to the first-team offense as the quarterback sails another ball over the receiver’s head.
I hold the errant football in my hand and rifle a pass back to Wes. “Come on, man! Get your head on straight today.”
Wes nods and lines up again behind center.
He barks out the play call, and this time, his pass is on the money. Gordon catches it in stride and streaks down the line before Fletcher, our star safety, tackles him at the ten.
Coach Johnson’s back, and he shouts his approval before walking over to me.
“Goddamn it, Wes is off today,” he says to me in a low voice.
“Yep.” I cross my arms over my chest. “And I think we can all hazard a guess as to why.”
Everyone in Wilcox knows about Calvin Brick and the weight he’s been on his quarterback son. Father and son live in the mobile park at the edge of town; Wes’s mom died years ago, and once she was gone, Calvin’s drinking went from once in a while to pretty much nonstop. Our interventions and endless attempts to get him to rehab have failed, and at this point, we’re all just rallying around Wes as best we can, praying he can get out of town with the football scholarship he so deserves before his father takes that away from him too.
“He needs his head in the game this week.” Coach Johnson shakes his head. “There’s going to be a scout in the stands.”
“I know.”
“Talk to him, Wild,” Coach says to me with a clap on the shoulder. “The kids listen to you better than to me. You’re a hero to them.”
I grin. “You mean you’re too damn old for them to remember you, Coach? You still hold the state record for number of sacks in a season.”
He laughs and rubs his bald head. “And your total yards still stands statewide. Plus, you had to share touches with Colt. Shit, you two were competitive with one another. Dylan used to have to give out a fucking target count after games so you and Colt would stop arguing.”
I remember. Playing with my cousins for three years under the bright lights is one of my greatest memories from high school.
“It’s been years, but I still miss it sometimes,” I admit. “The playing in front of a crowd; the adrenaline rush is fucking nuts.” But…
Coach Johnson’s watching me, and he nods before I even speak. “You belong in Montana, Brayden. Always did. You’re a cowboy first, footballer second. Nothing wrong with that.”
The rest of the practice goes smoothly, and when it ends, before I can beckon to him, Wes approaches me.
“I’m having an issue with the game this weekend,” he admits, the calmness of his tone belying how his cleat is banging on the ground between us. “Going to Billings might be tough for me. I need to make sure I’m back home that night.”
“What’s up?” I walk him away from the rest of the team.
“It’s my dad.”
He doesn’t need to say anything more.
I put my arm around Wes’s shoulders and point us in the direction of the barn. “Come for a ride with me. We’ll talk.”
Wes shrugs out of his pads and throws on a Wilcox High sweatshirt. His blond head of hair that’s the same length as mine is damp with sweat, and his dark, nearly black, eyes are filled with far more wisdom than a kid his age should have. He’s been blessed with an athletic frame and the strongest arm I’ve seen in a young quarterback since Dylan. He has the talent and the temperament to go all the way, and I don’t want anyone—especially the one guy who’s supposed to be in his corner, his father—bringing him down.
We saddle up King and Blazer, and I point to the cowboy hat hanging on the post outside the stall.
“Take that for the ride if you’d like,” I say as I grab my own hat and push it onto my head.
“Thanks, Coach.”
We ride along my favorite trail through the forest. Wes, like most of us around here, grew up in a saddle, and he matches me as I urge Blazer into a gallop. The Montana sky is bright blue above us, and the light breeze brings with it the familiar smell of pine trees and cow manure. And then we run into another familiar scene—a few loose cows.
“You up for helping me get them back?” I call out.
He gives me the thumbs-up.
Over the next half hour, the two of us herd the three loose cows back into the adjacent field where they belong.
“I need to fix that damn fence,” I say as we see the broken wire.
We hop off the horses and do a half-ass job of putting the fence back into position. I’ll have to come back tomorrow and finish the job.
We ride King and Blazer into the meadow where I pull up to a walk and Wes follows suit. We tie up the horses to a nearby tree, and I gesture around me to the open expanse with the mountains in the background.
“We live in a slice of paradise, Wes,” I say.
He tugs at the brim of the cowboy hat. “That we do.”
“I made a choice that nothing was more important to me than having a home here in Montana,” I continue as we stroll along the fence line. “But we’re all built differently, and we all need different things.”
“Like your cousins,” he guesses.
“Like them,” I agree. “Dylan wouldn’t have been happy staying here forever. Neither would Colton.” I stop walking and turn to face him. “And neither would you.”
He swallows hard. “But my dad…”
“Needs help. We all know that. I’m working on how I can get more involved.”
“Coach, it’s not your responsibil…”
“And it’s also not yours,” I say firmly. “You can’t help him if he’s drowning you, Wes. All you can do is stay down there with him.”
His face contorts in pain. “I know, but I can’t leave him here alone on Friday. He’s not always this bad, but today’s the anniversary of my mom’s death.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “I don’t know what to do. This is a huge game for us, and I don’t want to let down the team.”
“A college scout will be at the game for sure.”
Wes grimaces. “I didn’t know that. I don’t want to miss my shot.”
“Let me see what I can do. Just promise me you’ll focus on the game coming up, and I’ll figure out somebody to watch your dad while we’re gone.”
As we’re talking, I glance to my left. We’re within sight of the neighbor’s land, and I’m reminded of that truck peeling out of here the other day.
I turn toward the Easton’s property, and Wes follows me. As we reach the fence dividing the two ranches, I glance around the area. This part of the neighboring property is around the corner from the main house, and not a soul is in sight.
But as I look at the back corner of the Easton’s field, I notice a mound of dirt that looks freshly made. And in that mound, something shines in the sun. I look more closely. It looks like metal that’s exposed from where the dirt didn’t fully cover it.
I’m immediately suspicious.
“Stay here,” I tell Wes in a low voice. “I want to check on whatever’s underneath that dirt pile.”
“Holy shit.” He stares at me. “You mean like a…”
“Not a body.” I slap his back. “You’ve watched too many thrillers, dude.”
I hop over the fence and brush at the dirt with the toe of my boot. When I reach the metal, I realize it’s a container. And then I see the symbol painted on the edge.
“Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Wes calls over to me.
I point at the ground, and he peers over the fence at it.
“Oh, fuck. That looks bad, huh?”
Pretty much. Written on the top of the container, in black letters, are two words—“Hazardous Waste” along with the universal symbol for biological waste.
“Not a word about this to anyone,” I mutter to Wes as we start back to the barn. “I need to get a plan in place first.”
“I won’t say anything,” he promises.
Before
I storm over to the Easton’s front door half-cocked, I’m going to need some help with this. And I know who might be able to do just that—the shy, green-eyed woman from my past who says she works to save the soil.
Chapter Six
After I leave Big Sky Grocer, I collapse on my couch. I spend a couple of frustrating hours looking through my dissertation notes, but the sound of Brayden’s low, scraping voice won’t leave my brain. Eventually, I give up and call Sophia. She’s at my house in less than fifteen minutes.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” she says as she wags her finger. Her blond hair fans around her head in a wild array of curls. “You were supposed to call me yesterday, and you blew me off. Being a receptionist bites. I live for your phone calls to drag me out of my work boredom.”
I give her a hug and then lean back against the couch cushions. “I’m sorry. I planned to call, but I got caught up in a Save the Soil task, and then I…” I trail off awkwardly.
Her blue eyes narrow. “And then you what? Something tells me there’s a story here. And it’s better than your usual of, ‘Phillip scored another paper in the latest and greatest science journal.’ You’ve even put in your contact lenses, which means you’re really serious. So what’s up?”
I swat at her. “I’m wearing my contacts so I can be sure to see the dance instructor tonight.”
“You’re changing the subject now. Another sign of distress.” Sophia pokes me in the arm. “Spill.”
Part of me doesn’t want to say anything, but if I can’t tell my best friend, I won’t be able to tell anyone, and I’m not sure I can handle that.
Sophia is the only person in the world who knows about that night back in high school. I never told Stella, and after we graduated, Stella moved away, and with her went any last trace of that night. Until yesterday when I ran into Brayden Wild for the first time in twelve years.
“A new guy is helping out at June’s store,” I say casually.
“Oh?” Sophia’s voice rises in excitement. “Maybe I can get myself a friend with benefits.”
“He’s not your type,” I say quickly. Too quickly.
“Wait, is he your type?” Sophia’s voice lifts higher. “A man of science, not to mention a humanitarian who volunteers for any cause he can find?”
“He’s not like that. He’s a cowboy. And a football coach. He’s um…pretty laid-back.”
In truth, I don’t actually know if Brayden’s laid-back or not. But a part of me wants Brayden to be laid-back. Because there’s a part of me that’s sick and tired of trying so hard to do everything right.
“So in other words, he’s the opposite of Phillip,” Sophia says in a knowing tone.
“You could say that.”
“Well.” Sophia’s tone turns teasing. “What is it about this cowboy that has you all hot and bothered? Someone to sleep with before you marry and can never have another man for the rest of your days? A final fling before the ring? Leleila Wills, is that what I’m hearing?”
“I don’t want a final fling,” I say firmly. “I’m not a final fling type of girl.”
“No, but maybe this cowboy can help make you one.” Sophia giggles. “Or at least a harmless little crush. I have to meet him. Don’t deny me, Lei. Your life is always so predictable, and you and Phillip are so boring together. Mainly because Phillip’s boring, and he calls all the shots. So a potential crush before you lock it down for life? That I can get behind.”
Before she can continue, I blurt out in a rush of words, “Soph, there’s more to the story.”
Her mouth closes immediately, and her eyes widen.
I keep going before I can stop myself. “The guy at June’s store…” I suck in a breath. “He’s the one. From that football party I went to in high school.”
She gasps. “The one who dragged you into the room and…”
“No!” Frazzled, I wrap my arms around my middle. “No, not Noah. Sorry, I’m not being clear. Brayden—the cowboy from June’s store—is the one who knocked on the door and who I threw myself against when I escaped from Noah.”
A slow smile spreads across Sophia’s face. “Brayden is the guy who tried to save you? The one who gave you your first real kiss?”
“Yes.”
“And now he works at June’s store. Interesting.”
“He lives on Big River Ranch.”
“So he’s in Mountainview.” She grabs my hands. “How was it seeing him again after all this time? Did he remember you?”
I nod and fill her in on our meeting.
“I’m going with you to dance class tonight,” she says firmly. “I have to meet him.”
I try to tell her no a dozen times, but my friend is stubborn as a mule, and by the time seven o’clock rolls around, Sophia’s following me through the front doors of Big Sky Grocer.
“Are you sure he’ll be here?” Sophia asks as we step inside the door. “Maybe you should have confirmed with June first.”
We pass the wall Brayden helped me scrape down yesterday. I didn’t have time to do anything else to it yet, so it’s just a big, blank space at the moment.
“I’m pretty sure,” I say, the tension already coiling in my stomach. “June said something about needing all hands on deck tonight because of some inventory count she’s doing. I heard Brayden tell her he could come by after football practice. But I don’t see him around, so maybe I should just go…”
I want to make sure I get to the community room in plenty of time to meet the teacher, but Sophia takes my arm and marches me down the aisle.
“I need an introduction,” Sophia whispers to me. “Or at least a sighting. You promised.”
“Because you insisted on driving me here,” I say. “Phillip will bring me home, so please don’t stick around while I’m upstairs.”
“Phillip’s definitely going to show?” Sophia asks me.
“He said he would.” Phillip sent a text that he’s running late but will “absolutely be there on time for class.”
We walk into the produce section, and just as we turn the corner, I see Brayden standing by the frozen meats. He’s talking to a customer, but he waves as soon as he sees me. His flannel and jeans make my mouth water, and I swallow hard as I wave back at him.
“Okay, now that you’ve seen him, you can go,” I whisper to Sophia.
“What? No introduction?” She lowers her voice. “Oh my God! He’s so hot, Leleila. Look at those biceps. And that ass. I think I may come back later and talk to him on my own…”
“What? No!”
Sophia smiles like she’s won the lottery. “See? You don’t want to share him. I just got the proof I was looking for.”
I clench my teeth together. “Fine, a quick introduction.” I grab Sophia by the arm and march her over to Brayden just as the customer he’s with walks away.
“Hey, Leleila.” Brayden smiles at me, and any chill I felt from being outside in the fall air disappears.
“Hey.” I gesture to Sophia. “This is my friend, Sophia Loren. No relation to the actress, just a pun on words by her mother.”
“Who was drunk at the time,” Sophia adds with a wide smile.
Brayden breaks into a laugh. “Nice to meet you. I’m Brayden Wild.”
“Wild is your last name?” Sophia asks him. “You wouldn’t happen to be from Wilcox, are you?”
He nods. “I grew up there.”
Sophia claps her hands. “Are you related to Dylan and Colton Wild, the football stars?”
“They’re my cousins.” His mouth tips up in a grin when Sophia screams and clutches my arm like we’re being chased.
“Since when did you become a football fan?” I ask her.
“Last winter, that guy I was dating—Damon, remember him? We met at a Super Bowl party. Dylan was MVP of the game, and he’s so damn handsome. And his equally-sexy cousin, Colton, caught the winning pass.”
Brayden nods. “We’re super proud of them.”
“How are you cousins?” I ask. “I mea
n, that sounds dumb; I just meant…”
Brayden’s eyes warm as he fastens his gaze on me. “It’s not dumb. Our fathers are brothers—six of them in all, and five of their sons, including me, are best friends.”
“Really?” I ask him. “That must have been amazing to see Dylan and Colton win the championship like that.”
“It was. It’s been quite a ride.”
“I bet.” Sophia heaves a dramatic sigh. “If the rest of your family’s as hot as you and your football cousins, I’d be happy for you to introduce me.”
I elbow her, willing her to stop.
“And you played football with them in high school?” I ask him.
“I was wide receiver. Now I’m an assistant coach for Wilcox High.” Brayden chuckles. “Makes me feel old.”
Sophia starts rambling about high school and how fun the parties were in Missoula.
“So what are you guys doing tonight?” Brayden’s eyes flick to mine.
Sophia stalls. “I don’t know. I was thinking of trying to convince Lei to grab a drink, an alcoholic beverage of some kind, maybe at that new place in Missoula where they have dancing…”
I clear my throat.
“Well, maybe not,” she says. “But Sunday, Lei and I will be helping out with the Food for Hunger Drive. June’s store is one of the sponsors, and we can always use an extra set of hands.”
Brayden’s eyes brighten. “Oh, yeah?”
“Lei,” June calls out as she walks toward us. “Where’s next month’s newsletter?”
“It’s nearly done,” I tell her.
“Hey, June.” Sophia giggles. “I ran into a guy at Zeiss the other night. Says he knows you.”
June glares at Sophia. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
This would be why my sister got into an Ivy League school and I didn’t. She was captain of the debate team in high school, and she has an uncanny ability to stand her ground and convince you that she’s right and you’re wrong.
But Sophia didn’t go to an Ivy League. And she doesn’t care about advanced degrees or social etiquette. She plunges onward with a smile. “Oh, sure you do. His name’s Leon. Says you two got it on last week.”
Brayden grins, and I’m sure I turn redder than June does. “Okay, Soph.” I gesture toward the door. “Time to go.”
Brayden (Wild Men Book 6) Page 5
