“Faith?” I don’t touch it. “Faith in what? This place? Dad, a drought is ruining you.”
“Rain will come.” He’s still extending the board.
“We’re past the point where the rain matters though, aren’t we. We’ve barely spoken since the fire. Hell, we’ve barely spoken since I hit puberty. You don’t know who I am.”
He shakes his head, pulling the board away and hammering it in place, without my help to stabilize the two together. It’s like a kick to the gut—why the heck have I been wasting my time with him? He doesn’t need me! “So it’s that easy?”
“What’s that easy, Autumn?” He doesn’t look over.
“Just giving up on me.”
He removes his work gloves. “How am I supposed to respond to that?”
“I don’t know.” I kick a board. “Talk to me.”
“I am. Why do you think I want this time together?”
“Then why don’t you talk?”
“Aren’t we talking right now?”
I scowl at him and he grabs a drill, sinking a screw into an L bracket. He’s so frustrating. Why can’t he understand what I’m trying to say?
When the drill dies, I take a breath and dive in. I’m already this deep, may as well get really mucky. “I’m sick of pretending everything’s fine between us. You abandoned me when the court didn’t rule your way. You could’ve tried harder.” I glare at him. I can’t let him escape this moment. Not this time. “Things don’t just work out.” I continue. “Life doesn’t work that way. These walls won’t put themselves up on their own.”
His stands up, looping his thumbs through his belt. “Young lady, if you don’t want to be here, you can leave. I can’t afford another lawyer to guarantee my rights with you.” He nods to the walls then back at me. “You know I could’ve asked Todd here today. If you don’t call this trying, I don’t know what the hell you want me to do.”
“Then give Todd a call.”
“No. You’re my daughter, this is our house, and you will be helping me. End of discussion.” He points to the box of screws near my feet. “I need three of those.”
I glare at him, feeling like he tossed me in time out or something. Now that I’m being forced, there’s no way I’m doing that.
I take a step away.
“Okay then.” Dad snatches up the box. “I’ll put up the walls myself.”
“And you think that’s going to just work out. Alone?” I eye the frame he’s building. It's three times his size.
“Yes. I do.” He turns on the drill, sinking the wood into a perfect ninety-degree angle.
Screw this.
I’ve done my part-- fought, put myself out there again, and, no surprise, he just went splat. I’ll hoof it back to Colt’s. It’s only a twenty-five minute walk to a comfortable bed and Internet. Maybe I could connect with Mom at a café.
One month left to endure this place.
Dad doesn’t say anything as I walk down the gravel drive toward the ruins of the barn. Why does he even want me to stay if he doesn’t have the heart to stop me?
The revolting burn smell still lingers in the air as I near the barn. The sun breaks the horizon, bright orange spilling out over the sky. It reminds me of the fire, drowning in air. I kick a rock. This place will forever haunt me if I stay.
Honk. I glance up and Colt’s battered truck pulls to a stop next to me. He rolls down the window, “What’s up?”
I shrug. “Just checking out the wreckage of my life.” I toss out a pathetic smile.
“Sounds serious.” He climbs out and wraps me in his arms. I breathe in his scent and let my muscles melt. At least this feels right.
Honk, honk, honk! What the heck? I rise up on tiptoes to peer over Colt’s shoulder. Trucks and cars stream past Colt’s, continuing down the drive toward Dad.
“Who are they?” I ask Colt.
His eyes twinkle. “Everyone.”
“Everyone? As in…”
“Pretty much the whole town.”
“The town? Before dawn?”
His hand finds mine, leaving his truck behind and leading me back down the drive to where the house should still be standing. “We’re having a good ol’ fashioned barn raising.”
“On this?” I draw my toe through some of the ash under my boots.
“Well, eventually. Maybe we’ll be raising the barn next Saturday, but today, we’ll raise the house.”
I gaze in the distance. People pour out of their trucks, giving Dad hugs and patting him on the back. He pulls on the rim of his hat, pointing to the frame we just built and gestures with his hands widely in the air. Todd and a few guys I recognize from the construction crew grab the frame and carry it to the house. In a fluid movement, they raise it into place.
My eyes wet.
Dad was right. Just like that, it works out.
“Come on. I’m hungry.” Colt squeezes my hand and together we walk the driveway. It’s a humble path that I could’ve never done alone. Grace waves at me as she anchors a pole for a canvas sunshade, while trucks and cars continue to drive past us, honking hello.
Grace points Colt toward the building project and positions me in the middle of the driveway so I can direct toward parking. I open my arms, hugging strangers like I’m the guy in time-square with a sign that says Hug Me. Cookies, hot dishes, egg bakes, and pans of fried chicken pile up around my feet. Gina hops out of a random truck and I yelp. “You’re here!”
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss this, babe.” She points to her feet. “Gifts here, people!” Like magic, young children run forward with bags filled with things.
“This is insane.”
“Ha. Exactly how I’d describe the country,” she says while she balances a few egg dishes on her arm, taking them over to Grace.
Twenty minutes later, as I’m discovering one of the nice old casserole women is my third cousin, Grace rings a bell. “Breakfast!”
A few men have set up tables and spread blankets on the ground. Two canvas tents provide shelter from the sweltering sun. That blond school teacher from the bar hands me a plate and moves me to the front of the line, where Dad waits.
“Autumn.” He puts his arm around my good shoulder, giving me a gentle side hug. He clears his throat, turning and looking out at the crowd.
A hundred some faces beam back at us.
“This summer has been far from ideal for us ranchers,” Dad says. An older couple nods in the front row. “Drought. Fire.” He hesitates, squeezing my arm. “But there’s family. There’s friends to help you through it.” He opens his mouth again, but this time no words form. Squinting, he fights back the tears. He’s totally gone.
I gulp, stepping forward.
“What he’s trying to say is, thank you for your help. We appreciate it.”
“Yes,” Dad recovers. “With you here, I know it’ll all work out.”
I clear my throat as my eyes burn. This is all too crazy for me. I search the crowd for those blue eyes. There. I connect with Colt, struggling to stay composed while Dad prays for blessing on the food and the needed rain.
“Amen,” the town says together. Gina shouts it twice. I struggle to swallow. This is surreal. None of my friends from New York City would believe this even if I had it on video—ever.
Grace plops a spoonful of egg casserole on my plate. I add a muffin and banana and a middle school aged boy offers me coffee. I pass, taking water instead. This moment is enough of a buzz to last me the rest of the day.
***
I spend the morning under the canvas with Gina, a group of flower-scented older women, and young children while every able body is helping with the house. Nearly all the exterior walls are up and it’s not even noon. I sit on my knees on a red blanket a woman named Nellie laid out for me. I smile at the ladies surrounding me, all crossing their ankles like a southern lady should while resting on their foldout chairs. Kids run around us like they’re at a circus or something. “Here you go,” Nellie says, handing me th
e first gift.
I tug on the taut wrapping, careful not to rip it. Inside, I unfold a stack of flour sack towels, all with embroidered birds. They look straight out of the William’s Sonoma catalog. “Wow, these are gorgeous. Thank you.”
“It’s no big thing. A few days of watching sunsets on the porch with a needle and thread is close to heaven for me.” When Nellie grins, she glows. “Here’s another, darlin’.”
The gifts seem to never end: silverware, cast iron skillets, cleaning supplies, bath towels, crisp white sheets already smelling like lilacs, kitchen cloths, a painting of the sky, and homemade throw pillows. Dad’s home will literally be filled with their stitches of care and support.
I fold a set of knit washcloths before I hand it over to Gina. “Thank you, everyone. This means so much to him.” I glance over at Dad, who’s waving in a truck backing in with more lumbar. Colt and Todd hop out to help him unload. Then it hits me—Dad will be fine if I move to Paris. I don’t need to worry about him because he’s far from alone.
Who I need to worry about is me.
“Don’t forget, we’re doing this for you too. We remember you as a small girl, eating your ma’s chap-stick behind the church pews. We’re your community too.” Nellie grins down at me, folding up the wrapping paper for future use.
I swallow a lump in my throat. “Well, thank you. This is all real nice.” They help me stack the gifts against a table as Grace rings a bell for lunch. Colt’s arms find my waist, and he plants a kiss on my neck. He holds me, and for a second we sway with the wind. A family near us spreads a blanket out for a picnic. The father embraces his identical twin toddlers, giving a twenty-something mother a moment to fix her hair into a topknot. She catches me watching her and tosses me a smile as she takes a long sip from her water. She looks exhausted, yet she glows.
“What are you thinking?” Colt asks.
“That it’s hot.” I wipe sweat from my inner elbow. “There’s no way everyone is planning to work through this heat.”
“Naw.” He spins me to face him. “I know that look in your eye.”
“Oh, you do?”
“Yup.” He leans in to whisper as he touches his forehead to mine. “You love it.”
“Really? What’s it?”
“That.” He turns me back around so I can watch the parents again, now trying to serve the bouncing kids apples and chicken. It’s complete chaos. The mom laughs as applesauce squirts in her husband’s face. Nice shot.
“Ah yes, the typical country family.” I say using an anthropologist-like voice. “Dad farms, Mom raises the fruit of her womb and cooks, delivering him lunch every day at noon. Very appealing.”
Colt chuckles. “Actually, she’s a top author PR agent, and he’s an engineer. They adopted their sons from Russia four months ago, but you know that’s not what I’m talking about, right?”
I take a deep breath, not able to turn around. He kisses my neck again.
Weight crushes down on my shoulders. Marriage and family? This is too heavy to even consider. I’m sixteen and he’s eighteen. It’s ridiculous to hint at something like that right now.
He pulls away, “Come on. Let’s eat.” He’s blushing, totally aware of how inappropriate it is too.
I pile my plate with food, thanking the women who run the buffet. Gina waves me over and I join her with my plate while Colt grabs us water.
“So you and Colt are really a thing now, huh?”
“Yeah. He’s… well, he’s not like any other guy I’ve ever dated.”
“Really?” Gina’s lips tighten as she evaluates him.
“There’s something about him that’s impossible to describe—with a simple peck on the cheek he can drive me crazy yet make me feel so safe and still. It’s almost the only time I’m free to embrace who I am.”
Her eyes flick up. “Autumn, I need to tell you...” She pauses for a long time, like she’s forgotten what she was going to say.
“Yes?” I prompt her with a grin.
“Don’t get stuck here, Autumn. It’s a lame, boring life and not worth any guy.” She eyes Peter who’s chatting with one of the older women serving food. “And don’t fall in love, ever.” Her eyes turn to the horizon. Whoa, I’ve never seen Gina so intense before.
“Where’s Josh? Aren’t you guys dating now?”
“He’s working at the garage.”
“How are things going?”
“Great, he’s nice, and it’s casual. So it’s safe-- it’s good.”
“Define safe?”
“I won’t end up heartbroken when I leave for college.” She takes her last bite of sandwich then grabs her plate and stands as Colt approaches. She gives him a quick smile, stepping sideways so he can sit. “Hey.”
“Hi, Gina.” Colt sits next to me. “I can grab you a water if you’d like to hang out longer.”
“No, no. That’s fine. I just…” She looks at me and shakes her head.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She smiles back. “Remember what I said, okay?”
“I will.”
“Well, I've got to get to the ice cream parlor. We’ll talk later?”
“Sure.”
“Awesome, text me.” She nods to Colt as she backs away, detouring around a table to avoid Peter.
“What were you ladies talking about? What do you need to remember?” Colt asks before he bites into his sub.
“Oh nothing. Girl stuff. Gina… well… I think she’s having trouble with the idea of me being in a relationship. It doesn’t fit in with what she knows about me, I guess.”
Colt scoots closer. “In a relationship? Does this mean I’m officially your boyfriend?”
I shove him away playfully, “Naw, you’re my cowboy.”
“I’ll take what I can get.” He pulls me close, giving me a deep kiss. Someone whoops, but it doesn’t mask Dad’s cleared throat.
“All right, all right.” I say, appeasing Dad. “Let’s have our lunch, cowboy.”
“
Now that you’re spending your mornings with Chris, I don’t get to see you as much,” Colt says as he rubs cooling ointment on my shoulders. His lips meet my neck. “I’ve missed you. Do you want to go out tonight?”
“We’re together every night, Colt.”
He laughs. “Does that bother you?” He traces a circle on my mid back and I melt.
“Not a bit.”
“Good.” He kisses me soft again. I push in toward him, begging for the passion that he’s been keeping on constant simmer. We have had nothing close to the kisses we shared that evening a few months back. Colt laughs lightly as he pulls away from my lips and nips my nose. My heart aches, craving for him to break through that restraint and give me a real kiss.
“Is there something wrong?” I bump my nose against his.
“No, why?” he whispers.
“Well,” I nod towards the house. “Everyone’s gone. It’s just you and me. Why do you hold back?”
Colt releases his grasp around my waist and sighs. “You live here now. I’m trying to respect that. Plus,” his hand hovers over the deep scar from my third degree burn, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Do you ever consider that maybe you worry too much about me? And, maybe, just maybe, respecting me would include passionately making out with me?”
“Or more?” He asks and my heart flies.
“Yeah, that too.”
“That answers it.” He pulls me up from the porch swing. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“Why?” I wrap my arms around him. I need him. He keeps things simple, but I need it to be real too.
“You’ll get me in trouble if we stay.” His jaw line’s so sexy in the setting sun.
“What if I want trouble?” I ask.
I’ve missed flirting. It feels nice to be in control of something again. I step closer, pinning him against the arm rail. I press my lips against his jaw, like I did the night we sat under the stars. “Just one real kiss.”
He clasps my shoulders, and yeah, there’s pain but it doesn’t matter because his lips find mine. He presses into me, exploring my mouth. With a quick lift, I’m in the air and he wraps my legs around him. Yes, finally! His hand explores my hair and squeezes my butt. I hug his neck, but I let my tongue do the work within his kiss, telling him what I dare not say.
This is what I want, Colt.
This is what I need.
Nothing complicated.
Just you.
He pulls open the door and… my legs meet a hot seat.… Wait, what? My eyes fling open. He put me in his dinky truck!
Colt pulls away from me, nearly panting, “We need to go.”
“Are you kidding me?” I pull him in for another kiss.
“Nope,” he says with a wink before kissing me back, soft and quick before closing the door on me. When he opens his, I’m ready and I pounce, pulling him in by the collar and across the bucket seat.
“You..." I kiss his lips. “Tricked...” I kiss his jaw. “Me.” I return to those lips again.
“Right,” Colt says as he pulls himself off and away. “A guy’s got to do what a guy’s got to do?”
“To stay away from me?”
“Whatever it takes.” His voice catches, trembling. “Buckle up, girl. I need to be around people, fast.”
“Or?”
The ignition roars to life and Colt peals out of the driveway. “Or I’m in big trouble.”
“I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
“Well,” Colt clears his throat, “I’m pretending I didn’t hear that.”
“Fine.” I cross my arms. How is it I’ve fallen back into begging for him?
“Hey,” Colt’s fingers entwine mine, his thumb tracing a circle on top. The nerve endings spiral in delight. “Let’s keep this easy, right now. It’s not the right time, okay? You don’t need more drama for your summer.”
I nod, slightly peeved. “So where are we going?”
That isn’t the right question. I want to know why. Why isn’t now the right time? Is marriage seriously still his excuse? I don’t understand.
Or maybe, I’m not his type?
No. He wouldn’t be spending so much time with me if he didn’t care. I refuse to be one of those lame girls who believes no one will ever like them. I can’t waste my life doing that. It’s not worth it. His kiss tells me he likes me. I need to follow that feeling and not fall into insecurity. With these new scars, it’d be hard to crawl back out of that trap.
Bring the Rain Page 15
