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Their Forever Home [Men of the Border Lands 13] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

Page 12

by Marla Monroe


  “Do you want me to leave? I will if you tell me to. But if you don’t want me to go, then we have to come to some sort of understanding. I can’t stay here and walk on eggshells around you. I can’t stay here and watch you give all of your smiles to Lance without getting to experience them myself. Do you understand, babe?” He sighed, not sure how to get her to understand. Finally he just gave up when she didn’t turn around. “I love you, Vella. I have since the very beginning. I didn’t recognize it for what it was because I’d never felt it before, but I do. I love you enough to let you go.”

  He saw her shoulders shaking and knew he was pushing for something he would never have, and in the process, hurting the one person he would never have caused harm if it had been the last thing he did. He hung his head, turned, and walked toward the door. It was too much for all of them.

  Carver opened the door to the now-chilly air and stepped out, closing it behind him. He was glad Lance didn’t try this time to change how things had to be. It was already too painful for all of them. As he stepped off the tiny porch, he felt the first tear. As he walked into the woods, he felt the last of his humanity crack and fall away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Vella felt as if her heart would break, and maybe it already had. She loved Carver. She loved Lance. But how could she embrace him when men like him, who he used to be, had murdered her brother? She’d claimed him in the lodge in front of all those people because she knew he didn’t deserve to be ostracized into the outer world to try and survive the impending winter alone. It was too cruel even for someone who did truly hate him. And she didn’t.

  And now he’d walked away to save her from having to pretend she cared about him. How noble was that? How terribly sad it was. She didn’t want him to leave, but what could she do? As much as she wanted him there, she couldn’t make herself forget, and she hadn’t had time to forgive yet.

  Forgive? There’s nothing for me to forgive him for. He didn’t pull the trigger of the gun that killed my brother. He didn’t steal me away or hurt me. I can’t forgive him because he isn’t at fault.

  The dog leaned against her legs as if knowing she was a wreck and he wanted to comfort her. How could she have let Carver leave like that? She should have said something to him. She should have told him that she loved him.

  “Lance. I don’t want him to go. I love him just like I love you. Please find him for me. Tell him I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head against his back.

  “Are you sure, Vella? Because it’s not fair to put him through all of this again. I couldn’t blame you for not wanting him, but you claimed him in front of all of those people. Then you rejected him when we were alone. That had to hurt him deeply. Especially when he told you that he loved you. A man like him doesn’t say things like that lightly. He had no need to tell you at all since you’d stood up for him and he was accepted into the community. But he did.” Lance’s words twisted the screw that dug into her heart that much tighter than she’d already done herself.

  She choked on her tears as she hugged him. “I’m sure, Lance. Please. I can’t stand him not being here. He’s part of us, and I’m so sorry I screwed it up. It all took me by surprise, and then there was no time for us to even get through it before it was dragged into the whole community.”

  “He’s probably one of the best trackers and woodsmen I’ve ever met before. I’ll need some help,” Lance said, turning to look down at her. “Put the wood plank across the door when I leave, and don’t open it to anyone but us when we get back.” He kissed her then left her standing in the middle of the room.

  “Vella! The door, hon.” She heard his muffled voice and hurried over to lift the heavy wooden plank and slip it into the brackets that held it so that the door couldn’t be opened with it in place.

  She leaned against it and sobbed. How could she have been so selfish and close out one of the two people who’d shown her mercy and love? Here she was, finally where she’d wanted to be for so long now, and with two men of her own who loved her. More importantly, they cared about her. Carver cared enough to leave so she would have peace, and Lance cared enough that even when he had the chance to have her all to himself, he was out there looking for another man to share her with.

  There were no words to express her shame and sorrow at how she’d treated Carver. How would she ever be able to make it up to him? He, more than most men, had wanted a family, to be a part of something that felt good, to know that no matter what, they had his back like he had theirs, and she’d thrown it in his face. She’d been so cruel. Maybe it had been unintended, but it was still cruel.

  She’d taken in the mutt of a dog without a single thought, knowing he could have been wild and dangerous, but she’d treated a man who’d given her no reason to ever doubt that he cared about her like a leper. What did that say about her integrity?

  What if he wouldn’t come back? What if he wouldn’t forgive her? How could she live with herself if he refused to be a part of their family now?

  Vella refused to think about it any longer. She was sinking lower and lower into depression, and that wouldn’t help anyone. Instead of allowing herself to continue to worry herself sick, she started working on the cabin, turning it into their home. She put away the few things they’d brought with them and found that they were already stocked with staple goods, dishes, cutlery, bed sheets, and towels. There were pots and pans, as well as other cooking utensils. They were truly preparing for more families.

  By the time she had a soup dish cooking on the stove with bread in the oven, it was full dark and probably after seven in the evening. Where were they? How could Carver have gotten so far away in a matter of minutes?

  Because he doesn’t want to be found. I hurt him that deeply, and now he’s hiding from me.

  Vella knew that if he wanted to stay hidden, he’d probably be able to without a bit of trouble. Despair and depression returned in full force now that she had nothing to occupy her mind. She cut off the stove to save the gas and covered the soup. Then she and the dog sat in front of the small fire she’d managed to build in the fireplace and waited.

  * * * *

  “Abe!” Lance jogged over to where he was talking to some other men. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  “Sure. Walk with me. I’m on my way over to the Atwater’s place. They’re having trouble with the solar panels we’re trying to get up and going,” he said.

  “What kind of trouble?” Lance asked. Vella knew a lot about solar panels since they’d been putting them in at the commune where she’d lived for several years.

  “Something to do with getting the panels to automatically follow the sun’s path without someone constantly cranking a lever to move them.”

  “If they can’t get it working, Vella can probably help. She helped install some where she was before she left to come out here. She’s got a mind like a steel trap, too.” He didn’t feel comfortable revealing the fact that she had a photographic memory to Abe without her being there or agreeing.

  “Sounds good. We’ll tell them to talk to her. They have a bunch of books on them, but can’t remember any of them after they read them since they’re so technical. Unfortunately, not many of us so far have much in the way of technical skills.”

  “Look. I need help. Carver’s gotten it into his head that we’d be better off without him and left. I’m sure he didn’t feel welcome and figured everyone would accept us better if he wasn’t around. Vella’s heartbroken. I need help finding him.” Lance didn’t want anyone to know that Vella had still had a hard time accepting him after finding out his secret.

  Abe stopped and stared at him. “Are you telling me he ran away from home and you want help to find him?”

  “Basically, yeah. I guess that about sums it up,” Lance said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  “He couldn’t have been gone long. Did you even try looking for him?” Abe asked.

  “No. I’m not a big tracker like he is.
I was a lawyer before everything happened. I only know what he’s been teaching me. He’s damn good at it, though, and I’ll never be able to find him out there. I’d end up lost and starve to death myself.”

  “Damn! Okay. We just happen to be going to the right place. Joel and Jonathan are probably two of the best trackers here.” Abe started walking again with Lance attempting to keep up with the man.

  When they arrived at the cabin where the Atwater’s lived, Abe banged on the door with his fist while Lance waited. It opened almost immediately.

  “Come on in, Abe. We’ve got it set up in the living room.” Lance stood just off the porch as Abe followed the man with dark, shaggy hair inside.

  Abe turned back to stare at Lance. “Come on in and you can ask Jonathan while I help Joel.”

  “Ask me what?” another version of the first man asked as they stepped inside.

  “Hi. I’m Lance. I need help finding my friend, Carver,” he said to the man who must have been Jonathan.

  The other man turned back to stare at Lance. “He’s missing already?”

  Jonathan chuckled. “Shut up, Joel. He’s talking to me. So he’s missing already, huh? Joel and I figured he’d leave.”

  “You did? Why?” Lance asked, ashamed that he hadn’t picked up on it sooner. He’d been so relieved that they were all going to be allowed to stay that it hadn’t occurred to him the other man might still walk away.

  “He’s a loner. A lot like my brother over there. He was compromising sticking with you and the woman, but he probably felt like she was worth it. Then when people didn’t want him here, he probably started doubting that the woman would either and doubting she was really as important to him as he thought she was. So he left,” Jonathan said. “So, am I right?”

  Lance shrugged. “Close enough. Are you going to help me or not? I need to get out there before he gets too far to track him.”

  Jonathan sighed. “Yeah. I’m going to help you. We’ll stop on the way and get McCall. He’s about as good as I am, so between the three of us we should be able to find him.”

  Lance immediately felt better, not just because he was getting help, but because it meant that they weren’t holding a grudge that would endanger anyone in the future. The fact that they were willing to go out with him at night meant a lot.

  “Thanks. I know he was pretty interested in some houses just northwest of here we’d seen on an old satellite map we managed to dig up when we were trying to figure out where you were situated out here. That’s where he thought you might be at first until we ran across references to this place.” Lance watched as Jonathan pulled on his coat and slung the rifle over his shoulder.

  “Let’s go.”

  Lance followed him outside then left through a copse of trees to where another cabin almost identical to his and Jonathan’s sat blending in with the area. He stayed back when Jonathan knocked on the door. After a few seconds, someone answered and he spoke to them. The door closed, but Jonathan didn’t leave the tiny porch. Less than thirty seconds later, Granger McCall stepped out. He had his long hair tied back from his face and a rifle slung over his shoulder.

  “Thanks for agreeing to help me.” Lance didn’t bother holding out his hand to shake. The man screamed aggression and danger. He doubted McCall would shake anyway.

  “You said the old Faulkner area?” McCall said, addressing Jonathan.

  “Yeah. It sounds like where he’d probably head. Close enough to get to us to maybe trade but far enough away not to bother us.” Jonathan nodded in the general direction.

  “It’s what I would do,” McCall said. “Better get a start. If he’s as good as you indicate, we’re in for a good walk ahead of us.”

  Lance followed the two men into the trees, only to find that Jonathan flanked him, putting him in the middle of the two men as they hiked into the woods. Since he didn’t have a weapon other than his hunting knives, it was the sensible thing to do.

  He knew enough to keep quiet and try to make as little noise as possible, but he wasn’t nearly as adept at the kind of stealth as the two men with him were. Several times as they walked, McCall would stop and look at something on the ground or around a bush, and then he’d continue on. Finally, after what felt like hours of walking with the man a good ways ahead of them, McCall walked back to them.

  “What do you think about the mine shed?” he asked Jonathan. “Think he might have bedded down there for the night since he didn’t know the area around here all that well? It’s directly on the way if he didn’t deviate off the trail too much.”

  “Makes sense to me. He’s a smart man. Wouldn’t risk twisting his ankle or falling in the dark if he came across solid shelter.” Jonathan nodded.

  “How can you tell he even came this way? I haven’t seen anything. And what trail are you talking about?” Lance couldn’t believe he was missing so much.

  “It’s an old trappers’ trail. Not used much at all anymore, so it’s mostly grown over,” McCall said with a grunt. “He’s being really careful, but he’s not trying to cover his trail at all, so I can see where he’s been.”

  “He probably doesn’t think anyone would bother coming after him,” Jonathan said.

  “The bastard should have known I would. There was no way I’d leave him out here like this,” Lance said.

  “Think about it,” Jonathan said. “If you couldn’t find anyone to help you look for him and Vella is your responsibility, would you risk something happening to you, leaving her alone?”

  Lance ground his teeth together, already feeling guilty that he’d left her alone their first night in a strange place. He sighed and shook his head.

  “Be glad he figured no one would care enough to come after him. Otherwise, this would be a lot more difficult than it already is,” Jonathan told him.

  Lance just nodded and continued following McCall, with Jonathan trailing behind him. Now he worried about having left Vella by herself. That had been foolish. He should have at least insisted she stay with someone while he was gone. He hadn’t been thinking straight. If they did manage to find Carver, his friend was apt to take a chunk out of his hide for the mistake he’d made.

  Which was why he needed the man there to help him take care of their woman. He didn’t have the street sense or the gritty determination the other man had. He could handle the emotions and the romance she would need, but Carver was who she needed for safety and support and those times when she needed just plain fucking. All women wanted that on occasion. Lance wouldn’t apologize that it wasn’t something he could do. He would enjoy pampering her and making long, slow love to her, but he just didn’t have the raw emotions that Carver did. He needed him, and the bastard was going to come back if he had to tie him up and drag him back.

  “Okay. Looks like I was right. The shed’s door has been opened recently. The leaves are all pushed away from it,” McCall told them.

  “What do you want to do, Lance?” Jonathan asked.

  “Is there a back way out of the shed?” he asked, proud that he’d at least learned that much from the man.

  “Nope. Just a small shed. One way in and one way out,” he replied.

  “Okay. Just stay here and make sure if he gets by me you stop him until I’ve had my say.” Lance wished he felt better about it.

  “Got it,” McCall said.

  “Good luck, Lance.” Jonathan clapped him on the shoulder, and then both men melted into the darkness of the trees.

  Lance walked up to the door without even attempting to move quietly. He had no doubt that Carver knew they were outside. The man just didn’t miss anything. Lifting his hand and fisting it, he banged on the door.

  “Carver. It’s Lance. I need to talk to you, man. We’ve got problems.” There was no answer. He tried the makeshift door handle, but it didn’t budge.

  I don’t believe it. He’s locked himself in the thing like a twelve-year-old boy.

  “Look, open the fucking door and talk to me. It’s damn cold out here in t
he wind. We’ve got to talk about this. Vella is back at the cabin crying her eyes out right now.” Lance banged on the door again. “Let me the fuck in!”

  Still, there was no answer, and Lance was beginning to wonder if his friend had boarded himself up in there and killed himself. There was no way he could sit there without making a sound while Lance banged on the door loud enough to wake the dead.

  “She loves you, Carver. You didn’t give her enough time to get past something that came at her out of the blue. You’re not being fair, Carver. Get your ass out here and talk to me like a man instead of a spoiled brat who got his favorite toy taken away from him.”

  The longer Lance stood there, the angrier he became. He should be back at the cabin with Vella, not out here in the dark and the cold chasing after a grown-assed man who knew better. It pissed him off.

  “Well, fuck you very much, Carver. Just stay out here and pout. I’ve got a woman to take care of. I shouldn’t have left her at the cabin alone as it is, but she wanted you and I did what she wanted. I hope to hell someone in this community will care enough about her to help me keep her safe, ’cause you and I both know I’m useless at this.” Lance kicked the door with one boot and glared at it before turning around to tell Jonathan and McCall he was ready to head back.

  He walked face-first into a solid wall of granite called Carver Windom, and the man was pissed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You fucking left her alone!” Carver bellowed. He couldn’t believe the man was that incompetent. “She’s in a strange place with people she’s never met before, and you just left her there. Have I been talking to a tree all this time that I’ve been teaching you how to survive, Lance?”

  It took every bit of restraint he possessed not to knock the bastard on his ass for doing something that stupid. If he was going to cave and do everything Vella asked of him, she was going to end up hurt or sick, or worse. He needed to have some backbone where she was concerned.

 

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