I stared at his face in the mirror.
“Parlay?” said Jackson, meeting my gaze. God, he was trying so hard to build a bridge between us again, evoking a pirate movie I’d been crazy about when I was a kid.
This hurt him. Strong-arming me, disappointing me, hurt him.
Maisy hated those noisy blowers, so I finished quickly.
“C’mon,” Jackson coaxed. “I’ll buy you McDonald’s. What do you want? They’ve got breakfast all day now.”
My phone came to life in my pocket. I checked it right away, hoping it was Sky. My disappointment must have shown because Jackson was eyeing me with concern.
“It’s from Mother.”
I turned my phone so he could see it. Looking forward to seeing you. XOXO.
We hit a drive-through around seven p.m. I got out to let Maisy pee and stretch my legs.
Jackson had something on his mind. The way he’d clammed up for the last couple of hours. The way he worried the band of his watch.
Finally, I couldn’t take the wait. “What?”
Jackson rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers. He looked tired. Older. I’d never seen him quite so transparent. “You met someone, didn’t you? That’s why your mom scrambled the fighter jets?”
“I meet a lot of people.” As the sun dipped toward the horizon, glowing like red fire on the still-wet blacktop, I watched several cars go by.
“Cecilia Everett said there was a new guy at the ranch. She didn’t like the look of him, or the way he looked at you.”
So. It was Cecilia who’d narced on me. “There will always be new guys to meet. Don’t they get that? They can lecture me, move me, lock me up. It won’t stop me from being gay.”
“You idiot.” Jackson cracked his knuckles. That’s what I always liked about him. He got right to the point. “I understand better than you think. We love who we love.”
“I know.” Poor bastard. He’d had a thing for my mom half his life. The least he could do was acknowledge the truth of those words. He understood what it meant to want someone he couldn’t have.
After that, we sat in silence for another long while.
While we waited, my phone came back to life.
Hey. A text from Sky. Wish to God I’d woken you before I left.
I tucked my head down and thumbed a reply. I’m heading home.
Don’t go. Next, he typed a series of short bursts. Why go? I’ll go. You stay here. You love it here. It’s yours. Christ.
I fat-fingered a reply. You too. You love it. It’s good for you.
DON’T GO.
I hesitated before replying. Hit the phone icon instead and called him. I didn’t want Jackson to overhear so I stepped away. Maisy followed me.
“Rock, what the hell? Are you okay?”
“Good to hear your voice.” His anxiety broke my heart. “You dry yet? That was a real gully washer you boys rode out in.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”
“I was going to but then there wasn’t much time and—”
“You couldn’t tell me you had a problem? Maybe I could help you out? You ever think of that?”
“What are you going to do? Beat up my dad for me?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted them terribly. Not just because Sky’s lack of response told me they hit home, but because of how much more callous they were when I put them together with his past.
“God, I’m sorry. That was—”
“Maybe I deserve that.” He took his time before speaking again. “But I’m good for more than beating people up.”
“I know that,” I practically moaned into the phone. “Oh, honey. I’m stupid. I didn’t think.”
“I’ll be fine, even if I have to go find another job. Your whole life is here and you need to come back home right now.”
“I’m working on that.” Jackson was staring at me like he was about to weigh in on our conversation.
“Get a lawyer,” said Sky. “You’re an adult. There are government agencies that can help you. Christ. I have some cash and I don’t need more than room and board. I can—”
Jackson’s expression went from regretful to grim and my heart sank. “C’mon son. Let’s get back in the car.”
“I have to go,” I said.
Jackson looked unhappy.
Maybe he had orders where Sky was concerned. He was probably supposed to separate me from other dudes by any means necessary. I wasn’t going to find an ally in Jackson just then. But I had reason to believe he might come around someday.
“I should probably hang up,” I said. “I’ll do what I need to do.”
It was going to be a bitch taking on my family. But I was a manipulative bastard when I needed to be. I was a survivor. I’d proven that over and over.
I had nothing to lose and my whole life to gain.
“You still there?” Sky asked.
“Still here.” I meant the words with my whole being.
Still here. Still solid. Still yours.
I’m with you.
“I need to hang up now, but I’m sending you a file.”
“What kind of file?” he asked. “Is it inside a cake? Shouldn’t I be sending you one of those?”
Even now, he had the power to make me laugh.
“It’s a music file, dumbass.”
“Now, how am I going to bust you out with a music file?” Finally, I could hear the smile in his voice.
Jackson unlocked the car again. He opened his door. “C’mon.”
“I have to go. I’ll just send a link for now, okay?”
“Okay?” he repeated. “What do you think? Of course it’s not--”
“I know it’s not okay. But . . . for now.”
“Okay. Be . . . well. Good. Strong. Whatever.”
He hung up.
I sent him a link to me and my brothers singing a hymn. I thought he’d get the message. That he’d appreciate it.
I might not have been a believer anymore, but I understood Skyler’s desire to find something outside himself to lean on.
When I climbed back into the car, Jackson’s hand was out. “I’m going to need your phone.”
My mouth must have fallen open. “You’re joking.”
“Your mom feels—”
“No.”
He sighed deeply before snatching it from me, quick as a snake striking. “We need to go.”
My hand stung where he’d yanked the phone away.
Normally I’d make conversation, if only to keep the peace between us.
Normally, I’d give up. Give in. Let them win, because it was easier than fighting and I didn’t have anything to lose.
Normally, I can find something positive about any situation.
But the whole time I was thinking, I’m six feet, eight inches tall. I’m twenty-three years old. I have survived electrocution by lightning.
I’ve died twice and come back.
“I’m sorry about the phone. I really am.” Jackson pawed at his short scruff of salt and pepper hair before holding his hand out again and giving it back to me, powered off. “But it will be easier to accept the reality of your situation if you don’t have outside distractions. Your parents—”
“Like friends? Is that what you mean by ‘outside distractions’?”
“Boyfriend,” he said simply. “Your folks will go ballistic when they find out about your boyfriend.”
My blood is boiling now. “Can you hear yourself? What century is this?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way. Your parents are only trying to help you.”
“By taking away everything and everyone I care about. Thanks for clarifying things for me.”
I flexed my hands uselessly around the phone in my lap.
I’d trie
d working hard. Living what my folks might have called a decent Christian life. I’d tried being nice and going along to get along and every kind of appeasement.
I’ve tried to ignore the injustice of having money I earned in a trust I can’t touch—all because I survived a lightning strike.
Guess what?
Not. Today.
I handed my phone back to Jackson.
Jackson was surprised and a little alarmed, but he took it. Slipped it into his jacket pocket. Maisy whined because she hates it when I’m angry.
Jackson thumbed a text to my mother. He thought I couldn’t see, but his screen was lit up and the car was dark.
It’s going better than I expected. He gave me his phone with no trouble.
My mother sent him a smiley.
A smiley? Poor bastard probably survived from smiley to smiley. Sucking up crumbs of affection wherever he could. There sat one sad motherfucker.
Sure, I had given up my phone.
But stay frosty, Jackson.
Stay tuned.
He drove us back to the highway, where we joined a river of Northbound traffic.
“What?” Was his frown because of me or my mother? I’ll bet even he didn’t know the answer to that one.
“Nothing,” I lied. “Just thinking.”
“You scare me when you say that,” he teased.
I wasn’t teasing when I replied, “You should be scared.”
Chapter 33
Sky
No matter how worried we were about the boss, no matter what happened to Rock, over the next few days, we had plenty of hard work to keep us busy.
We took turns riding out to check the stock, feed the animals. We looked after the property and the wildlife on it. I pitched in wherever Foz thought he could use me. Took over a lot of Rock’s chores.
I fed and cared for the goats, pigs, and chickens.
I tended his garden as best as I knew how.
We got daily reports on the boss’s condition—he was stable. Recovering from the surgery. But with a traumatic brain injury like his, there was going to be a real long recuperation process. Every moment was touch-and-go.
It was going to be a long time before we knew if the boss would ever be able to go back to work.
Everyone’s nerves were frayed as hell.
Plus, I’d heard nothing from Rock since that first night.
All my calls went to voice mail. He never answered my texts. I started worrying after three days.
On the fourth, I decided to do something about it.
A single light burned in the ranch house kitchen. I figured I’d find Foz there, making himself a cup of tea, since that’s where he went most nights.
“What are you still doing up?” He glanced at me from where he stood by the sink. “Want some?”
“No, thanks. Got a minute?”
“Sure.” He tossed his tea bag into the trash before meeting me at the table. “What’s on your mind?”
“Have you heard anything from Rock?” I took a seat facing him and removed my hat. It gave me something to do with my hands.
“Elena says he’s back home and his folks are real glad to see him.” He picked up his tea, took a sip, and winced before stirring it again, making his teaspoon tick rhythmically against the sides of the mug. “How come you ask?”
“We talked the night he left.” I took out my phone. “He called from the road.”
“How’d he sound? Okay?”
“Sure, but he hasn’t called since. He doesn’t answer my texts either.”
Judging from the expression on his face his second sip was more pleasant.
“You guys saw each other a few days ago. Don’t you figure he’ll call when he can?”
There was sympathy on Foz’s face. I probably looked like a dumbass. A guy bent out of shape because his boyfriend—or whatever—hadn’t called for a couple of days.
I just had a feeling, is all. And if I were to go out on a limb for anyone, I’d do it for Rock.
I’d open a vein for Rock.
None of that crystalized for me until right then, though . . .
“We should have heard something more from him by now.” Despite how needy it made me sound, I persisted. “If Rock’s been in touch with Elena, then it’s fine, yeah? But if she hasn’t heard anything either—”
“Did you ask her?”
I shook my head. “I figured I’d talk to you first. I don’t want to sound like some hookup who don’t know when the party’s over.”
He’d made sure I had a phone. It was not weird to worry, right?
Foz pulled his phone from his pocket, thumbed his code in, and then called Elena. Her voice came over the speaker as he set it down between us.
“Hello, Foz. You’re up late. Is everything okay?” She sounded as if we woke her. I felt worse than stupid.
“Hey, Elena.” Foz asked, “You hear anything from Rock today?”
A pause. “Should I have heard something?”
“Sky’s here with me. We were just wondering if Rock has called you since he left.”
“I talked to his mom last night. She said he’s exhausted from everything that’s happened, and he’s taking his time, settling in.”
Foz frowned. “Sky’s here with me.”
“Hello, Sky.” Elena’s sigh was audible. “I won’t lie to you. Elliot and Cheryl will probably keep Rock on a pretty short leash for a while.”
“I haven’t heard from him since the night he left,” I said. “No phone calls, no texts.”
“For four days?” Elena asked.
“I thought it was weird, but you know him better than me. I’m not trying to get him jammed up over this, but the last I heard from him, he was still on the road. I guess I figured he’d keep in touch, if only to ask about the animals, you know? Those chickens.”
Outside, the dogs barked. Both me and Foz got spooked and laughed about it.
“It’s probably nothing.”
Now that I thought about it, Rock not calling probably was nothing. Like those dogs outside, maybe I was getting all worked up over shadows and wind.
“I planned on coming back in the morning anyway,” Elena said. “I’ve got nurses and physical therapists coming for interviews and a service will be out to install some safety equipment for the boss in the guest room and the downstairs bath.”
Foz bit his lip. “Things are going to change around here, aren’t they?”
“They already have.” Elena’s soft sobs could be heard over the phone and I felt awkwardly, painfully, unnecessary.
I drifted toward the sink, if only to leave Foz and Elena alone. He picked up the phone and her voice disappeared from the air between us.
“Elena, I hope you know—”
While I stared outside, a tiny dazed-looking owl hit the window. No bigger than a baseball, it looked as if somebody had taken a half tab of acid and gotten crazy with a glue gun, some feathers, and a lot of repressed anxiety.
Like something from Harry Potter, it hovered there for a second, and then flapped dizzily away into the night.
I looked back to see if Foz had seen the little guy, but his expression didn’t invite conversation.
“Um . . . sure. We can talk more when you get back.” Foz’s fingers tightened on his phone. “No, I understand. Nobody knows what’s going to happen now.”
Outside, everything was country dark. I had the urge to go out and follow that baby owl. What if it had gotten hurt? What if one of the cats found it and—
“No, of course I understand.” Foz said softly. “You’re what’s important to me. You know that. I’ll talk to you about all the rest of it tomorrow, ’Lena. Safe travels.”
He disconnected the call and turned to me.
“Elena’s going to call over to the McLean�
�s place and see what’s what, but it’s too late tonight. Pastor McLean’s a pretty big deal. There’s always some event going on at Christian Pathways. It’s like being in show business. Everyone in the family works full time.”
Rock preferred the quiet of a country life, but family was family. Who knew what compromise Rock might be willing to make for family?
“Thanks.” I shook Foz’s hand. “I appreciate what you’re doing. Rock kinda got under my skin, I guess.”
“He’s a decent kid who had a tough break. He got under all our skin.”
“I miss hearing him play his guitar.”
Foz nodded.
There wasn’t much more to say.
I picked up my hat and left through the mudroom. As I walked back to the bunkhouse, I listened to the night sounds at the Rocking C. If I hadn’t been keeping my eyes open for anything out of the ordinary, I wouldn’t have seen the dog—one of the border Collies—nosing around in the horseshoe pits by the bunkhouse.
When I got closer, I found my owlet.
There you are.
I hesitated, listening to see if there were other owls around.
The owlet looked to be a fledgling. Old enough to give flight a try and fail. One growl from the dog froze it with fear. She growled when I got close too, but the Rocking C’s dogs were well-trained and obedient. When I called her off with a whistle, she slunk back to my side and sat.
Luna loved nature documentaries and we’d watched some on owls, so I knew better than to simply pick the owlet up. I figured it for a barn owl. It had that heart-shaped face. They’re crappy nest builders—they’ll take over any empty hole. The chicks can get crowded and impatient. When they’re older, they stand on the side of the nest and flap their wings like crazy. All the babies want to get in on the fun and falling out isn’t uncommon.
If you know which nest an owl fell out of, it’s best to put them back in. But sometimes their nests can be hard to find. And even young owls can do what this little guy—gal?—did just fine on its own. They skitter around and climb by sort of running up the side of a tree while beating their wings. They can get a long way from their nest but they can also get back up in a tree, where screeching relentlessly will bring their parents flying back to feed them.
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