“Shut up,” she laughed.
“I still think she could throw him off,” I tested, holding up my fake stumps and examining them.
“No,” she insisted, having no idea where I was going. “He could definitely overpower her.”
“Hmm. We should definitely test that theory,” I said, tossing myself on top of her and flapping my handless cuffs at her.
“Stop,” she laughed, trying to roll me off, but I pinned her beneath me.
She fought me, giggling uncontrollably and causing me to roar with laughter.
“Stop,” she sighed but her laughter was dying.
It suddenly got very quiet and we both stopped squirming. I was very aware that I was laying on top of Cricket Hunt. We watched one another, our chests rising and falling against each other. My hands found the pile of capes beneath us and I pushed myself up, rolling to my side and sitting up.
I cleared my throat. “Sorry,” I rasped, refusing to look at her.
She sat up as well and fixed her mussed hair. “It’s, uh, okay,” she acknowledged, staring at her lap.
“M&M? I asked, pulling the bag out.
I poured a few in her hand, careful not to touch her.
“Thanks.”
I laid down on the capes and tucked one hand behind my head while tossing M&M’s in the air and trying to catch them. I only missed one and only choked on two.
“How long do you think before the storm blows over?” I asked.
“Not sure,” she answered, laying down beside me.
“Think they’ll cancel the auction?”
“Nah, they’ll clear the roads and we’ll be out and about in no time at all.”
“You’ve lived through these often then.”
“Hundreds of them.”
“Cricket?” I asked after five M&M’s.
“Yeah?”
“Do you ever talk about your mom?”
She studied me. “Not really.”
“Cool.”
It was silent for seven more M&M’s.
“I was young when she died.”
“Sarah, right?” I asked, thinking on the first day I met Cricket Hunt.
She gazed at me, surprised. “Yeah. Sarah.”
I kept silent.
“I was seven, but I remember it like it was yesterday.”
“How sad. How old was she?”
“Twenty-four.”
“Too, too young.”
“Too.” She grabbed a handful of M&M’s. “She got sick when I was about five. For the longest time, I had no idea what was going on. Then, one day, she came to me and told me she would be in the hospital for a few days but she would be back and I would be with Grandma and that Grandma would bring me up to see her in two days.
“I cried and begged her not to go, but she convinced me she’d come back, so we marked my calendar for two days ahead and she promised me Grandma would take me to see her.”
My breathing got deeper, heavier, sadder.
“So, the next day I made a big X on the calendar when the day was done and the day after that, I woke very early and dressed in my Sunday dress and shoes. I packed a bag because I didn’t understand that she was actually in nearby Kalispell, and I waited very patiently for my Grandma to come upstairs so we could go visit Mama.
“But breakfast passed, lunch, and we were approaching dinner and I still hadn’t gone to see my mom. So I grabbed my suitcase and found my grandma’s room and knocked on her door.
“She said it was okay for me to come in, so I did, and when she saw my face she broke down crying. I had no idea what she was crying for, so I asked if she was okay. I asked if she was crying because we wouldn’t be able to visit Mama that day.”
“Oh my God,” I couldn’t help but breathe.
Cricket looked at me and gave me a half smile.
“Grandma said that we wouldn’t be visiting Mama and sat me down at the edge of her bed.” Cricket turned thoughtful. “I still remember the feel of the weight of my dress shoes as they dangled.” She shook her head to clear it. “She set my suitcase on the ground next to her knees and grabbed my face as she so often does, even still, and she said, ‘Cricket, I have something to tell you.’ I had no idea what she was saying. I had an idea of what death was, but I had no idea how permanent it was.
“I nodded that I understood, but after a few days, I started to feel sick without my mother, and I told my grandma that I was ready for her to be alive again, that I wanted to see her.”
“Cricket,” I said, turning on my side.
Tears cascaded down the sides of her face.
She turned on her hip and faced me. “Yes?”
“I am so sorry.”
“What for?”
“I’m sorry that she was taken from you so early. It wasn’t fair.”
She reached her hand out on the cape we laid upon but didn’t quite touch my hand. She was just near enough for me to feel the heat of her fingers and my heart beat sadly for her.
“Spencer,” she said, studying both our hands then piercing my eyes with her bright blue ones. “Life on Earth is fleeting. It’s a gift, but when God wants you, He will take you. It’s not meant to be a punishment to you or to your loved ones. In fact, it’s truly an extra incentive for you to do His will, for you to serve Him so you can strive to be with Him as well as the ones you lose. There’s a peace in that, Spencer.”
She stunned me with that statement. Absolutely stunned me. Because I had never ever thought of death as anything other than a punishment. I feared it with utter dismay, with complete abhorrence, with despair and foreboding.
“And death,” she continued, “is a beautiful thing for those destined for God’s world. How could I possibly begrudge her that happiness?”
She considered my expression and laughed a little through the tears.
“It took me a long time to come to terms with that, but when I finally did, it clicked.” She smiled. “Now, that doesn’t mean I’m not selfish sometimes and miss her, but that’s okay because I’m human.” She smiled wider. “And I love being human. What a gift it is to be human.”
I stared at her in the candlelight. “You’re beautiful,” I said.
Her eyes closed tightly. “Spencer,” she breathed.
“I’m saying that as a co-worker, Cricket.”
She snorted. “Shut up,” she laughed.
“I’m serious. As a fellow ranch hand, I feel it within the realm of appropriate to tell you that I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet.”
“Spencer,” she said, her eyes going glassy.
“And as your co-worker, you should also know that I find you talented, smart as a whip, capable and sweet.”
“Spencer,” she whispered, the tears more evident now.
“And-and I don’t think it’s at all improper, as your co-worker, mind you, to tell you that, in my humble opinion, you’re settling for the life you have.”
She squeezed her eyes closed. “Spence, stop,” she weeped.
“I don’t think it’s a bad life, the life you’ve chosen, not by any means, but I do think you should give yourself a try.”
She shook her head no.
“I think you could have a hell of a time finding out what you really want, that you’d discover some pretty incredible things about yourself. You said yourself you didn’t really want to be here. I don’t think you meant that you wanted to leave forever, but I do think you wanted to explore while you’re young.”
She sobbed a bit but shook her head more emphatically.
“Cricket, your family wouldn’t die if you took off for a little while.”
She sobbed harder. “You don’t understand.”
“Help me to, then.”
She sucked in a breath then exhaled. “You can’t fathom the unimaginable sacrifice they’ve all made for me, Spencer.”
“Because they took care of you? Cricket, they did that because they wanted to.”
“No,”
she said, grieving something terrible, “it’s more complicated than that.”
“Then tell me, Cricket.”
She broke down. “I don’t wish to burden anyone else anymore. I’m so tired of being a hardship.”
“Cricket,” I said, grasping her hands, “whatever it is that you speak of, it’s not. I can promise you that it’s not a burden to those who love you. Trust me.”
She was crying so hard, she couldn’t answer, so I did the only thing I could think to do. I pulled her across the capes and held her while she lamented and that was exactly what she was doing, she was mourning. What, I didn’t know.
I pulled out Bridge’s new down comforter from the bag and tossed it over the both of us as it was starting to get cold and I let her cry, I let her unburden herself of all the heavy sacrifice she decided to walk around with for her family and I suffered to carry it for her instead.
Ethan may have felt as if he was in love with Cricket, but I thought he was more in love with the idea of what they were. Anyone truly and genuinely interested in her would have seen this side of her. This sad, taxed soul.
“Cricket,” I spoke into her hair as her breathing steadied into my chest, but she didn’t answer, worn out from a heavy life she didn’t want to speak of.
Her cell rang from underneath the blanket, but I couldn’t find it in plain sight. I ran my hand along her hip and felt the vibration. I nearly laughed at the temptation. I carefully wedged it from her back pocket and brought it to my face.
“Hello?” I whispered.
“Where’s Cricket?” Ethan asked.
“She fell asleep,” I bit.
“Where?” he asked, suspicious.
I sighed audibly. “Ethan, I made her a pallet on the stage floor. She’s resting comfortably.”
“Why are you whispering? Are you-are you laying next to her?”
“No,” I lied, “sound travels in this place. I’d rather not wake her. She seemed really tired.”
“Fine,” he conceded, exasperating me.
“You know, you should trust her,” I told him honestly, unable to help myself.
“I do trust her. It’s you I don’t trust.”
“Do you?” I asked, becoming aware that he truly didn’t. “I don’t think that you do. I don’t mean that you can’t trust her, but I think you’re frightened she’ll discover what you’ve known all along.”
“Shut up!” he shouted.
“I almost feel sorry for you, Ethan.”
“Shut up!” he shouted again, incensed.
“Fine, I won’t say another word,” I told him and hung up. “Because I don’t need to,” I revealed to the empty line.
I laid the phone above our heads and blew out the candle.
At three in the morning, we were startled awake by Eugie barking.
“What is it, boy?” I asked him before realizing he was barking at a loose shutter flapping in the wind.
We both laid back down. “Eugie, hush,” a raspy-voiced Cricket ordered him and he quieted down.
I began to stretch when I felt that Cricket’s body was on mine. Her leg was hooked around mine, her head resting on my chest, her hand around my waist.
“I’m sorry,” she said. I couldn’t see her face flame red, but the heat on my chest told me all I wanted to know.
She scrambled to her side of the pallet. I stood up and stretched once more.
“I’m gonna check the roads.”
The snow had ceased to a light dusting and the plow trucks had already gone through the town, which meant they’d done the same thing for the highways. As I studied the winter wonderland before me, I debated whether I should tell Cricket we could leave.
Sleeping next to her, even if was for a few hours, was so incredible it made my heart pound just thinking about it. I didn’t know how I’d gotten as far as I had since meeting her. I went from wanting to know what her body felt like to sleeping next to that body but only being able to think about how I was dying to know what her heart felt like.
An intense, burning pounding hit me in the chest and my hand shot to my heart and stayed there. I waited for the sensation to subside but it didn’t. At first it hurt, but then it scorched me so sweetly I begged for God never to take it away. It blistered my soul, imprinted in my skin, and seared my lips.
It was the exact moment I fell in love with Cricket Hunt. The point in time I knew my life would never be the same again. My hand shot out and rested flatly against the cold window and the ice melted beneath it.
But the next moment I acknowledged I could do nothing about it, and the pain was so intense I felt like punching that window through. Because I couldn’t claim her lips whenever I felt like it, I couldn’t change the oil in her truck for her, I couldn’t leave a note on her mirror for her whenever I felt like it, or find pieces of scrap metal on the side of the road and instinctually pick them up for her. I couldn’t help her catch Eugie for his bath, touch her hip because I just felt like it, or drive her into Kalispell. I couldn’t do those things because she wasn’t mine to do those things for, and that was pure agony for me.
“Cricket,” I said, walking back to the stage with purpose.
She sat up, devastating me, and my hand clenched at my chest.
“Uh-huh?” she asked.
“Um, the roads are clear. We can leave if you want.”
“Oh,” she said, pushing the blanket down her legs, “that’s great.”
I nodded but I didn’t agree.
The auction that night was to happen as scheduled. The entire ranch went into a frenzy in attempt to get as much done as possible so just a few hands could stay behind and watch things.
Although I was exhausted, I headed back to the trailer to shower and found Bridge curled up on the banquette.
“What’s up, dude?”
She sat up. “Jonah,” she said and started crying.
“Shit,” I said, sitting next to her.
“No,” she laughed, still crying. “It’s these damn hormones. He told me something today and I just ran off.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m just-I’m having trouble with it.”
“Why?”
“Because I feel like I don’t deserve him, Spencer.”
“Oh, Bridge,” I said shaking my head. “How in the world could you possibly think that?”
“He’s such a good guy, Spence. And, I mean, the only reason I even know him is because I put us here,” she explained gesturing to her growing stomach.
“Bridge,” I said, emphatic. “We’re here because our father put us here.” She leaned back and looked up at me. “We’re here,” I continued, “because you couldn’t stand the idea of not having your baby, and you didn’t care that it meant you would have to live an entirely different life to do that. I think that is the bravest shit I have ever heard of, Bridget. That courage makes you worthier to Jonah, to me, to these people, than anyone. Your baby does not define you, but your courage to keep it does.”
Her bottom lip trembled and she nodded with backbone.
“I think you finally get it.”
“I have to go,” she said, tossing on her jacket and wrapping her scarf.
She ran out the door and I got up to see her head to the road from the window, but at the top of the lane I saw Jonah coming down the drive, wringing his hands and worrying his lip. When Bridge saw him, she started running to him, sprinting, her hair escaped its ponytail and the blonde mass spread out behind her.
Jonah stopped walking, looking stunned and opened his arms for her. She jumped into them and he hugged her tightly, making me want to cry a little, but if you repeat that to anyone I will personally come kick your ass.
He began to kiss her and I’d decided I’d seen enough. I was still careful not to put too much stock in their fledgling relationship, but I couldn’t help the very good feeling their mere existence put in my heart.
I dressed, showered and drove myself to the auction—just myself and no one
else. Since realizing I was in love Cricket, I had never felt more alone in my life. I sort of felt myself spiraling, retreating into myself, but I had no idea how to crawl out of the hole.
I was in love with Cricket.
She was choosing to be with Ethan.
Ethan didn’t really understand her, as cliche as that sounded.
So I, I was going to accept that, be as kind to both Ethan and Cricket as I could, get through the next few months for Bridge, set her up wherever she wanted to be, and get myself as far away from the Hunt Ranch as possible—not just for my own heart’s sake, but also to protect them from my father because his eerie silence was starting to scare the bejezus out of me.
I’d also made the decision to come clean to the man I’d helped my father blackmail. That I’d do it when I could secure the safety of Bridge and all the Hunts.
The inside of the old schoolhouse was packed; hundreds of people gathered around, mingled and laughed while waiting for the rest of the comers and the auctioneer. My eyes went straight for the stage and I wished I’d never come.
“Hey,” I heard from behind me.
My head hung low for a moment.
“Hey,” I said, turning around and facing Cricket and an older man in a wheelchair.
His right leg was missing below his knee.
“This is Amos McAllen. He wanted to meet you just as soon as you got in. He insisted.”
I smiled at him and extended my hand.
The old cowboy took it and shook it with a strength I hadn’t expected of a seventy-year-old. “Mr. McAllen, it’s an honor.”
“Son,” he said, patting our joined hands with his free one. “I needed you to know that what you and Jonah Hunt have done for my family will not go unpunished.” He smiled. “My wife and I pray for you every day and your generosity is much appreciated. I’m humbled, young man.”
This shamed me because I remembered complaining almost every moment of the day with Jonah. If I had put his face to the ranch, I would have been silent and worked twice as hard. “Sir,” I said, “you give me entirely too much credit.”
“Not possible,” he said, unwilling to accept anything else.
GREED (The Seven Deadly Series) Page 21
