by Liv Brywood
He started pulling out containers of food. As he set them down, he removed their lids. A veritable smorgasbord of meats, cheeses, olives, and fruit filled the table.
“I would have been okay with a bologna sandwich,” she said. “Madison shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble for me.”
“She didn’t.”
Abby cocked her head to one side. “Did you do this?”
“Guilty as charged,” he joked.
“Thank you. I must have lost track of time. I didn’t realize it was getting so late.”
“It happens, especially when you’re doing something you love to do.”
“I never get that feeling,” she admitted.
“I do. Whenever I’m out working with the horses, hours can pass before I realize how late it’s getting. Good thing the sun goes down or I’d be out all night too.”
“I’m pretty sure lawyers don’t have that feeling—ever. I think we have the opposite experience. Sometimes time grinds to a halt. In the second before a jury renders their verdict, you can review and question everything you said during a trial.”
“Did that happen in your last case?” he asked gently.
“Yeah. Before. During. After. Five minutes seemed to last five hours. It’s amazing how much you can register in a moment. I have these images burned into my mind… I’ll never forget them.”
She shivered and wrapped her arms across her chest. Until now, she hadn’t noticed the drop in temperature. The wind kicked up, tossing her hair behind her like a frayed cape.
“Maybe we should move this inside,” Cody suggested.
“I was hoping to finish the painting today.” She couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice.
“Let’s go sit in Logan’s new barn,” Cody said as he packed up the food. “The wind might die down while we eat.”
“We’re not breaking it in, are we?” she asked.
“No… unless you’re offering.” He grinned.
“In your dreams, cowboy.”
She couldn’t stop the flirtatious comment from spilling out. Just because she’d decided to stay away from him emotionally didn’t mean she had to stay away from him physically. Not that she was going to jump into bed with him or anything. But knowing that nothing would come of it made it fun. And right now, she needed fun.
After trekking through the snow, they approached a huge red barn. The sides gleamed with fresh paint and the grassy scent of hay filled the air. Inside, the floor was half wood, half dirt. Cody walked toward the back of the barn. He set the basket down on the floor near the wall.
“I’m sorry we don’t have any tables in here yet,” he said as he sat on the wood floor. “We just finished it about a week ago. My brother Brady and his fiancée Rachel are going to have their wedding here in a few weeks. Logan and Kate are housing their horses in the main barn until after the party.”
“It must be nice to have people looking out for you all the time.” She sat close to him, but not too close.
“In some ways, it’s great. But it can get too crowded around here sometimes. Carol and Hank are looking into buying up the property between the ranch and the highway, but they’re having some trouble with a local developer. The guy has it out for us.”
“Why?” she asked.
“He’s a greedy bastard.”
“Greed has no place in this world,” she said. “Too many people are obsessed with money and power at the cost of their own families.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” he said.
“Yeah. My father’s a politician. He’s so fixated on prestige that he’s lost his soul. He never stopped to ask me what I wanted to do with my life. For as long as I can remember, I’ve known that I was going to be a lawyer. There wasn’t an alternative. Striving for something else was unthinkable in his world.”
“What did you want to be?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I never really stopped to think about it. I just went through the motions of what my parents wanted for me.”
“Have you ever sat and listened to that little voice inside your heart?” he asked. “I think we already know everything we need to know about our desires. We just don’t stop long enough to pay attention to them.”
“Years ago, I might have been able to figure out what I really wanted for my life, but it’s too late now.”
She sat back against the barn and turned to look at him. He regarded her with a pensive expression as if he wanted to say something but was holding back.
“It’s none of my business,” he began. “But maybe you should have been an artist. You’re clearly gifted.”
“You don’t have to flatter me. The painting isn’t that good,” she said.
“I beg to differ. In fact, I know an art dealer in West Yellowstone who might want to put your painting in his gallery.”
“A gallery?” she asked. “They only take work from real artists.”
“Who judges whether or not someone is a real artist?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Customers, I guess.”
“Then let them decide whether or not your painting is art,” he challenged.
“Why are you being so adamant?” she asked.
“Honestly? Because you weren’t meant to be a lawyer. You were meant to be an artist.”
“Are you saying I wasn’t good enough to win that case?” she asked as her hackles rose.
“Not at all,” he said. “I hardly know you, but from what I do know, you don’t seem to like your job.”
“They fired me.”
“Because you lost the case?”
“Yep,” she said.
“Did you lose a lot of cases?” he asked.
“This was the first one.”
“Then it seems discriminatory that they fired you because of one case.”
“Probably, but I don’t want to think about any of that right now.” A dull throb began in the back of her head. It sent vise-like tendrils of pain around her neck. Dammit, not another tension headache. “I think I need to stay out of the sun for a bit. I’ll have to finish the painting later.”
“Okay, but when you’re done, I want it. I really do think you’re gifted and that your work should be on display,” he said.
“When I’m done with it, I’ll make sure that you get it.” She forced an indulgent smile. It was enough to put a satisfied grin on his face.
Artist? Pfft. She wasn’t an artist. More like a dabbler who’d only dabbled on two paintings in her life. She couldn’t figure out what Cody saw that she wasn’t seeing. But she had a feeling that he’d never leave her alone until he got his way. It didn’t matter to her. Even if the gallery owner did agree to display it, it wouldn’t change anything. At the end of the week, she’d still have to return to her life in Texas and find a way to piece it back together.
Chapter 5
The next day, Abby stood on the back porch with a steaming mug of coffee. She’d been more than willing to brave the early morning chill in order to watch the sunrise. Even though an hour had passed since the sun had crested the mountains, she hadn’t felt the urge to go back inside.
The sliding door squeaked as it opened. An older woman with closely cropped gray hair strolled onto the porch.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked as she closed the door.
“Not at all. I’m Abby.”
“Vicki. My daughter is Carol.”
“Married to… um… was it Hank?” Abby asked.
“You got it.”
“There are so many brothers. I don’t know how you keep them all straight.”
“If they were twins, I’d be in trouble, but they’re different enough that I can tell them apart,” Vicki said. “What are you doing out here? It’s ten degrees.”
“I like the fresh air. We have so much smog in Dallas that it irritates my lungs in the summer,” Abby said.
“I went to New York once,” Vicki said. “The place was as close to hell on earth as I’ll ever get. I
’m happy living up here amongst the trees where the air is as clean as a mountain spring.”
“What are you doing up so early?” Abby asked.
“Penance.”
“For what?”
“I’ve made some big mistakes in my life. I’m trying to make things right now, but it’s hard,” Vicki said. “I used to be a drug addict. I’m clean now, but not a day goes by that I don’t struggle with it.”
Stunned, Abby wasn’t sure what to say.
“Don’t feel like you have to fill up the air with platitudes,” Vicki said with a half-smile. “I’m done with liars. I only want the honest-to-God truth in my life now. These days, I tell everyone exactly what I think. No point in holding it in. All that does is make a mess of things.”
“I know what you mean. I wish I could be more truthful with other people.” Abby wasn’t sure why she was confessing something so personal to a complete stranger. But Vicki sounded like she’d suffered through some terrible things in her life. Abby respected her ability to speak her mind.
“Who do you want to be more truthful with?” Vicki asked.
“My parents.”
“Parents don’t always know what’s right for us. My daddy used to beat me. He taught me that women were put on this earth to serve men. Can you believe that crap?” Vicki asked.
“I’m sorry. I—I don’t know what to say,” Abby stammered.
“I used to think it was normal. Wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I wised up and realized he was full of shit.” Vicki cased her a sidelong glance. “Your daddy ever hit you?”
“No. Not really.”
“Either he did or he didn’t, which is it?” Vicki asked.
“He never slapped me, not with his hands.” Abby said.
“They can slap you with words too,” Vicki said. “It wasn’t just the business end of the belt that got me so messed up in the head. Some ideas are like poison, infecting you from the moment you hear them, lurking in your subconscious until they strike at the worst possible moment.”
“I don’t think he consciously intends to do it, but he’s dictated every decision in my life for as long as I can remember. I don’t even know when I gave up control of my destiny to him. Maybe I never had control of it,” Abby said.
“He never let you dream.”
“No. And I realize that’s nothing compared to being beaten and abused—”
“We’re not in a contest, so no worries there.” Vicki managed a crooked smile. “Besides, I’d win for sure if we were. But what your daddy did—taking away your ability to dream—if you ask me, that’s just as bad as being beaten with a belt.”
“How so?” Abby asked.
“I used to be full of dreams. I wanted to be a nurse so I could help people, but I never even finished high school. I would have though, if my daddy hadn’t crushed my dreams when I was a kid. I can pinpoint the moment it happened. I was fourteen years old, getting ready to head out for my first day of high school. I’d swiped some makeup from the gas station and had used it to cover the most recent bruises. I thought everything was going to change for me. I just needed an education and then I’d be able to do anything I set my mind to.” Vicki stared off into space as if reliving the memory.
“What happened?” Abby asked.
“Daddy was sitting in the living room, drunk as usual. He took one look at me and laughed. He said I was a whore like my mother and wouldn’t amount to shit. I told him I’d never be like her, that I would become a nurse and help people. He threw a shoe at me and told me I’d better learn my place. I didn’t argue with him—by then I knew better. But I remember walking outside that morning… it was like my heart had been sucked out of my chest. I never talked about my dreams again. They all died that day.”
“I’m so sorry,” Abby said.
“You got nothing to be sorry about. You’re still young. You have your whole life to go. If you still have a dream, even a sliver of one, go out there and do it. If your daddy really loves you, he’ll understand.”
“Do you have any dreams now?” Abby asked.
“Yeah,” Vicki said. “I want to spend the rest of my life surrounded by people I love. I’ve been blessed with a new family and maybe one day I’ll even get to hold my grandkids. That’s my dream.”
“I hope it comes true for you.”
“It will,” Vicki said with a smile. “I’m just happy to get up every day and take it as it comes. I can’t change the past, but I can live on my terms now, not someone else’s. And let me tell you, that’s the biggest joy in the world.”
Abby gave Vicki a hug. To survive everything she’d endured and still come out with a positive attitude was a miracle. Maybe there was hope for a different kind of future.
“Want one more bit of advice?” Vicki asked.
“Sure,” Abby said as she pulled away.
“If you ever run into a good man, don’t let him go. They are few and far between.”
***
Cody pushed open the sliding glass door and stepped onto the porch where Vicki and Abby stood huddled together. They both looked at him with a conspiratorial glance before smiling at each other. What was that all about?
“Mornin’, Cody,” Vicki said as she brushed past him on the way to the door.
“Mornin’, ma’am,” he said.
“Don’t forget what I told you,” Vicki called over her shoulder.
“I won’t,” Abby responded.
“What’d she tell you?” Cody asked.
“She’s a smart woman. She gave me something to think about.”
“Women and secrets, I swear,” he said with a huff. “Anyway, I came to find you because I have some exciting news.”
“I thought you didn’t watch the news,” Abby said.
“No, not that kind of news. Your painting sold.”
“What?” Her eyes widened.
“My friend framed it and put it up in the gallery. I wasn’t sure how to price it, so I told him to sell it for what he thought it was worth.”
“How much did he sell it for?” she asked.
“Two hundred dollars.”
“What? That’s impossible. It was a crappy painting made with cheap watercolors. I only spent a few hours on it. It wasn’t even on good paper.”
“You’re talented. My friend recognized it the minute I showed him the painting. He wants more of your work,” he said.
“I don’t have anything else. I can’t give him another painting like that, not without a proper paint set and canvas,” she said.
“True, he did say that if it had been on better paper, he could have sold it for more. This could be the start of a new career,” he said.
She frowned and turned to rest her forearms on the railing around the porch. The sudden change in her mood confused him. Why wasn’t she happier about selling the painting? If he could whip up something in a few hours that would earn him two hundred dollars, he’d sure as hell want to do it again.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. He moved closer and rested a hand on her back.
“This doesn’t really change anything for me.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t live on two hundred dollars. I make more than that every day as a lawyer, and I don’t think I’m good enough to sell a painting every day,” she said.
“You wouldn’t have to. When I was in the gallery, I was looking around at some of the other paintings. A few had prices of more than ten thousand dollars. You’d only have to sell one a month at that rate.”
“A professional artist?” She shook her head. “My parents would have a fit.”
“Who cares? Would it make you happy?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to disappoint them. But I guess I’ve already done that by losing the case.”
“At some point, we all disappoint our parents. People aren’t perfect.”
“What did you do to disappoint your parents?” she asked.
He sighed. Did he really want to tell her
the story? Even though the incident had occurred years ago, he could still see the pained looks on his parents’ faces when they’d arrived at the park ranger’s office to collect him and his friends. He really didn’t want to relive it, but after glancing at the forlorn look on Abby’s face, he decided to tell her everything.
“When I was seventeen, my friends and I drove into Yellowstone,” he paused. “God, this is embarrassing to admit.”
“What happened?” she asked softly.
“We were out joyriding in the truck my father had given me for my birthday. We shouldn’t have been driving so fast and horsing around, but we were.”
“You were kids,” she offered.
“Yeah, but dumb kids. Anyway, I took a corner too hard and the truck went off the road. It was the middle of summer and there were tourists all over the place. We didn’t hit anyone—thank God—but we did manage to knock over a tree.”
“That’s bad, but not as bad as losing a case and letting a child murderer go free,” she said.
“I wasn’t done with the story,” he said. “The tree fell on a historic building that had been standing for two hundred years. We basically demolished it. My parents had to pay the fine and the truck was totaled. I think that’s the only time I ever remember my dad raising his voice. He was furious.”
“I bet,” she said in a blasé tone.
He frowned. Maybe it didn’t seem like a big deal to her, but to him it had been the end of the world. Disappointing his parents had been one of the worst things he’d ever done in his life. Sure, it may not have compared in scale to her supposed failure, which he still didn’t consider her fault, but she didn’t have to be so callous about it.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I’m not discounting the level of what you did, but no one died.” A tremor entered her voice. “In my case, Edward Lee Drake could go out and kill again.”
“You have to stop accepting blame for the outcome of that case. Unless you did something completely negligent, it wasn’t your fault. If you let this case haunt you, it’s going to ruin your life,” he said.
“I don’t know how to get past it,” she said.
“Paint.”
