River's Return (River's End Series, #3)

by Davis, Leanne

  “Who is it? You never bring anyone here.”

  Ben glanced up and tapped his foot under the table. “You won’t tell Dad?”

  Shane shrugged. “Well, I don’t have to. But why don’t you just tell him? You’re plenty old enough to have a girlfriend and be sleeping with her. Hell, I was…” He almost bit off his tongue. No need to advertise he was sixteen and sleeping around his small school with pretty impressive results. That was not what Jack wanted Ben to be. A man-whore. He’d been called that and worse. But Shane refused to apologize for it. Yeah, he liked sex. A lot. He never wanted to settle down; and never advertised his availability for commitment. As a conscientious and thorough partner, why shouldn’t he have sex? Lots and lots of mutual, noncommittal sex. There was nothing wrong with it, not like the word player or man-whore portrayed. He didn’t lie, cheat, or pretend. Or play games. So hell, yeah! He slept around. It was fun. But it didn’t hurt anyone. If it did, it was the girl’s fault for not believing him and trying to make fairy tales from the reality Shane clearly defined for every one of them.

  “It’s Marcy. Marcy Fielding. Dad doesn’t like her too much.”

  “Wasn’t that the girl you were using when your dad caught you?”

  “Yes.” Ben’s smile showed his chagrin. “The following year, we sat next to each other in a class and it kind of started all over. She forgave me after I apologized for the way I treated her. And then we got together some more. And now? Now, we really love each other, Shane. Like the thing you said wasn’t possible. It is. I could be monogamous to her for the rest of my life. It wouldn’t be hard either. I love her.”

  Shane’s eyebrows shot up. That was not what he expected coming from Ben. Ben’s eyes were bright and Shane didn’t doubt Ben believed deep in his heart exactly what he was saying. He was thoroughly convinced he was in love and expected it to last a lifetime. Shane had to restrain his urge to snort. He was just a kid. Maybe a tall kid, and still developing, but definitely a kid. No way could some end-of-high-school romance endure for the rest of his life.

  “Neither of us want to go to college, and we don’t want to leave the valley. She’s working Kailynn’s old job at the café and I, obviously, work for Dad. We have plans, Shane. Lots and lots of plans. We agree on almost everything. We’re both saving up so maybe in a year, we can get a place together, and eventually settle down here. We want to live here and run the ranch someday.”

  Ben’s face glowed as he raved about his future. His youth and blooming optimism made Shane feel old and decrepit in comparison. He thought he heard his bones creaking. He was sure he had never been so optimistic about anything. Even when he was Ben’s age; no, he never sounded like that. About anyone. Not ever. He wasn’t capable of it. A kind of amused weariness overcame him as he watched Ben. He didn’t want to crush his childish, romantic view of the world, but Ben needed to realize that real life wasn’t a pretty, little box all tied up with a fancy bow. The picture he painted would end in five years with Marcy and Ben feeling too overworked and tired, but afraid to admit they were far too young for the life they had chosen to share. They’d realize what a dead end they were in, going nowhere, and doing nothing. Then they would forget what first brought them together. They would be utterly bored from working crappy jobs, just so they could live in a small apartment together. No doubt, they’d be even more spent after they rushed into having kids early. Then their kids would finish them off before they’re even thirty and…

  Shane shuddered; the entire picture was the closest to hell on earth he could imagine. He would never get caught in any of that. No monogamous relationship, no steady job, let alone, marriage. He winced at the thought of having his own baby. Yuck. No. Never. But he couldn’t deny how sweet and innocent Ben and Marcy’s shared optimism was.

  “Again, just use condoms. No use letting Marcy have the chance to—”

  “She would never trick me,” Ben snapped, cutting him off. “She would never do that to me. And besides, our plans don’t include kids yet.”

  “Right,” he mumbled. Sure, that never happens. No woman or girl ever tricked a guy into getting pregnant. Must be fun to live in Ben’s rosy-tinged reality. “Hell, kid, I’m the last person you should ask. A girl could be on three different kinds of birth control and I’d still be bagging up. No one’s tricking me. Or catching me in her web like that. You’d be far better off asking Erin o—”

  “Erin! She’s my stepmom.”

  “Right. Okay, gross factor. My point is, ask anyone but me.”

  Ben nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “But, remember my advice: you should keep control of that. No matter who you’re with.”

  Ben fidgeted around, his annoyance and agitation with Shane clearly obvious. “I already told you: there will never be anyone else.”

  “Never?” Shane failed to mask the shock in his tone. But the thought of having only one woman for the rest of his life made his skin crawl, and he felt like scratching. It sounded like a chastity belt for his dick. Imagine, the same woman for years. Years. But then again, Ben had no concept of how long a lifetime actually could extend. Or even how long a year was. Or how boring having only one woman would get. For years. He knew. Shane knew that only too well after sleeping with Celia for a few weeks. Point being, after even a few weeks of strictly one woman, he had to find another. It was too confinin’ otherwise.

  “Never.” The finality in Ben’s tone was the same as Shane’s whenever he began discussing problems with engines or other machinery. Ben’s gaze remained solid on him. Shane squirmed when he glimpsed some sympathy in Ben’s expression. Was he sorry for Shane!? That crazy thought made Shane bristle. There was no cause for Ben to feel sorry for him. No, no way. Never. He saw more tail, new and recycled, than Ben had zits. And Shane answered to no one. He took off at a moment’s notice for places in different states and destinations that had nothing to do with the valley. Or the ranch. He lived. He saw. He experienced. He met all kinds of people from all walks of life. Not only cowboys and bikers, but also business men and women. He’d thrown darts in dark neighborhood taverns at ten o’clock in the morning; and witnessed the sunrise over the cliff dwellings of Mesa Verde while cruising through Colorado. He met an ancient Nez Pierce medicine man and learned how to weave old-time baskets. He partied it up almost every year for a whole week at the Sturgis motorcycle rally. He gambled in Reno and drag-raced in Southern California. He lived and experienced everything he could. How dare this little fresh-faced, innocent boy who never even left River’s End pity him? Shit! Ben’s expression seemed like he thought he was somehow superior to Shane.

  “Well, you think so now, but you haven’t really lived, Ben. You don’t know what you’re missing, or if this thing you feel will last as long as next month.”

  “I know who and what I love. Besides, your life doesn’t seem all that fulfilling. Otherwise, why do you spend so much time running off to new places, and always returning here, just to act miserable? And then you run off again. Push and pull. Leave and return. That’s the theme of your life. Meanwhile, I can glimpse the entire world from a single hour spent in Marcy’s company. So you tell me, whose lifestyle is better?”

  Shane squirmed again, and started to speak, but shook his head. He didn’t have an answer for Ben that could totally refute him. He did leave regularly, and always returned. Yeah, sure. This was his home. He was clear on that. But his need to leave wasn’t sad, or a cry for help. The departures were necessary because that was when he did all his living. Experiencing new things. Expanding his horizon. Living nearly isolated on the ranch was a very limited existence in the broad spectrum of humanity. Being rural, some stereotypical types of people took up residency there. Shane wasn’t content with mediocrity and traveled high up into Canada, and far down into Mexico. He drove through at least half the fifty states in between, meeting all kinds of people from different backgrounds and milieus. His friends included strippers, hookers, a senator, and some Royal Canadian Mounte
d Police. The relations with such diverse types deepened Shane’s understanding of what it meant to be a human. Many of them touched his heart as well as his life.

  Just because he couldn’t commit to a monogamous, unrealistic love match didn’t mean he had no feelings and did not care deeply for a lot of diverse people. They were people he’d never have learned about or valued if he never left the ranch. He unequivocally recommended travel to everyone. Get out. Live. Work. Go to new cities. And discover little towns. Go to the beaches in Mexico, and the pristine ski resorts in Montana. Go and observe what is out there before acting so smug and assuming you know all about life and what’s important.

  But Shane didn’t say any of that to Ben. He let it stand. So what? If, in Ben’s naive, simplistic view of the world, he was kind of a shmuck who slept around and didn’t get the whole meaning of life, so be it.

  Shane truly hoped Ben would beat the odds and be one of the few who fall in love so young and manage make it last just like he was spouting. But Shane knew the statistics, and they were low. He hoped for more with Ben, but if Ben didn’t want anymore right now, Shane knew to hold his tongue. He remembered when he was eighteen, and nobody could have told him what to think, or do, or feel about life, and his place in it. And even now, Shane still wasn’t satisfied. So there was no point in doing that to someone else.

  “Well, then I’m happy for you, Ben. If you’ve found what you want already. Not many can say that at such a young age.”

  Ben raised his chin up. “She makes me glad to wake up each day.”

  Shane smiled as if he understood, but really, he didn’t. No one, not a single woman had ever made him glad to be alive. He was glad to be alive for his own sake. Not because of any female presence in his life.

  Ben had a shy, embarrassed grin before he got up and shuffled away. Shane stared after him, feeling a strange flutter in his chest. Was it unease? Why did he feel so unsettled? Yeah, maybe. He got up and wandered over to the porch, rarely suffering from such doubts. Few things could make him feel that way. He routinely refused to let others dictate how he felt about anything, or conduct any portion of his life.

  Except… he was already feeling a little ashamed in front of Allison Gray for her points about Jett. Points he never thought of, not in the light she flashed on them. And now he was feeling weird. And it was all because of something a lovesick, teenaged boy said to him. He shook his head. It was not his way to doubt himself, or worry about what others thought. He wrapped a hand around the post that held up the porch roof. The sun was dipping down over the mountains across the river. Charlie was skipping, then walking, then skipping again towards the house from one of the pastures. What was that knot in his chest about? Self-reflection? He scoffed. He didn’t do that. He didn’t ponder or contemplate life’s eternal questions. He fucking lived it. He burned it up every day since his birth. There was no moment wasted, and no stone left unturned for Shane. If he died today, he would have no regrets. He met each moment of the day on his own terms and in his own way. He lived his life to the fullest and regretted nothing.

  Jett’s bland, average face flashed in his brain, although he tried to ignore it. He shuffled his feet and leaned on the railing. Okay, he might feel a smidgeon of… something, maybe he was just a little sorry for Jett.

  Shane straightened up. No, damn it. He didn’t cheat on Jett. He didn’t make any commitments to Jett. He confronted life on his terms. And if that hurt Jett, or Celia for that matter, it was on them. Not him. He was only responsible for his own actions.

  He nodded, but there was no one to see it. He did it anyway to prove something to himself. Shit, yeah! He was right. Little, prim Mrs. Schoolteacher just had a different code of ethics. That didn’t mean his was wrong.

  Chapter Three

  CELIA WANTED SHANE TO come over the following Tuesday night. Charlie had previously asked to stay over at his friend’s house after school, so Shane was free. He was getting a little itchy from sitting around the ranch for four days and taking care of Charlie while trying to advise Ben. He decided he could use the break and needed the outlet. After spending all morning fixing the Ford truck, he was satisfied when he figured out how he was going to retrofit the aftermarket exhaust system. By three o’clock, he felt he’d done a solid day, work-wise, so why not visit Celia and pound out a good orgasm or two? Yup, nothing wrong with that.

  “Wow, what was that?” Celia asked after they finished as they fell side-by-side on the bed together. He had managed to rock her entire bed frame with his body and grinned at her glistening sweat, and flushed face.

  “Had a good day at work. Felt more invigorated.”

  “Wore me out,” Celia muttered as her eyes grew heavy. She shut them and curled up on her side. Shane felt just the opposite, and was even kind of amped up. Ready for a third round. He sighed when Celia’s even breathing indicated she was that quickly asleep. He got up, and the mattress rose higher after his weight was off it.

  He glanced out the window of the upstairs room. It was Jett’s damn bed. He looked around at all the signs of the man. A tie lying on the dresser top, some button-up shirts still in a dry-cleaning bag and hanging off the back of the closed door, a few pictures of Celia and Jett with their arms around each other, smiling. He bristled at the strange sense of being an intruder that suddenly filled him. He glanced out to the yard. Teacher was out. He noticed her immediately, and shrugged. Why the hell not go out and say hello to her? No reason he could think of not to.

  He grabbed his jeans and put them on before ducking into his gray t-shirt while he thudded down the stairs. Rounding the corner, he wandered into the kitchen where he grabbed a beer. Celia was usually good about keeping it stocked for him. Did Jett drink beer? Did Jett wonder where it all disappeared to? Or was Celia covert enough to keep it steadily supplied? He shrugged as he twisted the top off the glass bottle and threw the cap towards the sink. Not his problem. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. As a guest in the house, he was offered any kind of drink or food he wanted from one of the homeowners, anyway.

  He slipped the sliding door open and stepped out. It was cool, but sunny, although he could have used a dang jacket. He ignored the goose bumps spreading over his arms and walked further out onto the deck before leaning against the railing. Teacher was sitting on her own deck in a patio chair, resting her legs on the railing. She wore dark slacks, flat, black shoes and a white blouse with a stretchy, knitted sweater over it. A glass of wine was sitting on the table. He glanced down at his phone. Yup. Just about the right time for teacher to come home from teaching class so diligently. She probably relaxes with a glass of wine on her porch almost every day at this time, he bet. She struck him as a creature of habit. And this? Just her way of relaxing after school. Shane would have needed a couple of bottles to survive her job, but that was another story.

  “Well, hey there, Teacher Gray,” he drawled. His tone was kind of mocking and sleazy, just enough to prick her with annoyance. “How’d all the molding and shaping of the minds of America’s youth go today?” he called out over the short distance that separated them. She straightened in her chair and turned towards him slowly. Today, her bright red hair was drawn into a loose ponytail. Long bangs framed her face. She really had a flame-red crowning glory. So loud and bright, it seemed to draw everyone’s eyes to it. And the conservative, stuffy-dressing Allison Gray? Shane sensed her hair was something of a problem for her. The way she turned made her blouse pull over her chest. Big. He already confirmed she had really big titties under all those layers and fine fabrics.

  “Oh… hi, Shane.” She nodded at him as she pronounced his name in a kind of clipped tone. Her scowl made him grin and the disdain in her voice suggested he was that student who never quit disrupting her class, or disobeyed her instructions when every other kid politely followed them. He took her pinched expression with another swig of his beer before he jumped over the railing and ambled towards her deck. She frowned when he lowered himself into the patio chair opposit
e her.

  He set his bottle down with a clink and grinned at her weary demeanor. Crossing his arms over his chest, he asked, “So? How were all the little minds in River’s End today?”

  “You really can’t take a hint, can you?” she grumbled as she lifted her own glass and sipped from it.

  “What hint?”

  “I think I was pretty vocal in conveying my discomfort with you being… here, in any capacity. I ran into Jett over the weekend. He was out playing with their dog and I could barely meet his eyes. He was still kind enough to put out my garbage recycling for Monday. Very neighborly of him. Nice of him. Decent of him. And how do I thank him? By being complicit in his wife’s adulterous affair.”

  Shane’s smile slipped. “I didn’t think it would make you feel so bad. If it happens again, Celia will just have to explain to him what I’m doing there.”

  She shook her head as her lips pursed into a little bow. “You really feel no guilt about it, do you?”

  “I explained to you already how I feel. And sorry, but no, guilt isn’t it,” he muttered, although he hooked his hand around his neck. Perhaps he did get pricked by something, maybe even his conscience, while observing Jett’s presence in the house. “You want me to leave? Are you uncomfortable talking to me?”

  He knew he flustered her a little bit. But did he make her uncomfortable? No, that wasn’t really his point. She sighed and her bangs fluttered up off her forehead and back down. “No. I don’t mean you literally make me uncomfortable. I just don’t cherish the circumstances that always bring you here.”

  He shrugged, replying, “It’s their marriage, Allison.” The usual swagger was absent in his tone. She looked up when he said her name. He smiled finally.