by Dahlia West
Walker wouldn’t let him go, though. He dragged Austin—down, down, down—into the dirt, until they both knelt by the rushing water. “I gave you as much space as I could, baby brother, but no more. Someone’s gotta hang on. If you can’t, then I will.”
Austin screamed again, but it sounded fragile this time, brittle. He sagged against his twin, clawing at the fabric of his shirt. “I did everything right,” he said. “I took them in. I was going to take care of them.”
“I know,” said Walker, holding Austin’s arms tightly, keeping him upright. “I know.”
“So, why did I lose them? Why? I did everything I was supposed to do…but I lost them.”
Walker didn’t reply, perhaps because there was no answer.
“I loved them!” Austin shouted as Walker pulled him closer, not letting him get away this time. “I loved them! I do love them!”
Somewhere in the anger and the raw-throated despair that was overwhelming him, Austin understood, he saw, that his brother was crying, too, right alongside him. Walker matched his twin, tear for salty, stinging tear, the only other person in the world who could feel this pain as acutely, as nearly-fatally as Austin.
Aside from Leah.
“I did this,” Austin whispered.
“What? Austin, no. You—”
“I made her come here.”
Walker shook his head. “Austin—”
“I made her leave her family, her friends, her whole life—to come here. If she hadn’t come, Walker, if I’d left her alone, like she wanted…if…”
Austin’s voice caught and he couldn’t finish. If he’d left her alone, she’d be happy. Deliriously happy. She’d have her baby. Of course, Austin wouldn’t be a part of their lives, but it would’ve been better that way.
A baby he couldn’t hold was better than no baby at all.
“I did this,” he repeated.
Walker grabbed his shoulders, fingers digging in until pinpricks of pain broke through Austin’s internal agony. “Listen to me. You did not do this. You are not responsible.”
Austin shook his head, unable to look his older brother in the eye.
“You know this,” Walker pressed. “You know this. This land, Austin, it gives and it takes away. It took from you this time.”
“Why? Why?”
Walker’s grip was firm, solid. It felt like the one thing holding Austin in place right now. “I don’t know,” he told Austin quietly.
“Mom? Dad? Manny? Haven’t we given enough? Haven’t we?”
Walker shook his head. “It doesn’t think like that. And you know that’s true. It doesn’t love like we do. It doesn’t hate, either. It just is, brother. The land just is.”
Austin had no strength to argue, but he still felt as though he were being punished, for being too lucky, perhaps, and not grateful enough for it.
When he could stand again on his own, Walker went to fetch their horses. Colter seemed nervous and goose-stepped through Austin’s attempts to mount him. It took several tries for both the horse and the man to calm down enough to work in tandem. Finally settled, Austin and Walker turned back to start the long ride home.
They passed the dip in the valley that flooded every few years. Austin could predict which years the waters would rise, he knew so much about this land and its cycles but he never saw this coming. He felt helpless and blind.
As the original cabin came into view, a shiver passed over him, driving the damp from his clothes into his bones. This was the place where his family had started. Where his ancestor had brought the love of his life, his soul mate, his woman when the world was against them. Kit Barlow had gotten Rafaela pregnant to keep her. He hadn’t kept her because she was pregnant.
Austin’s hand tightened on the reins, as though he were holding onto Leah, could hold onto her. It was then that he realized he couldn’t let her go. The land had taken from them, but maybe it would give something back, and even if it didn’t, they’d still have each other. He pulled on Colter’s reins, causing the horse to pivot away from the cabin suddenly. Austin kicked him into trot, then they put on a burst of speed.
“What are you doing?” Walker called, kicking Nero as well and scrambling after him.
“I’m going to get her,” Austin vowed as he headed rode away from the old cabin and toward the homestead.
“Austin,” said Walker, nudging Nero again to keep up. He reached out a large hand to try and grab Colter’s reins.
Austin spurred on his horse, veering away from his older brother’s reach. He wasn’t certain what Walker saw but he could imagine—a wild man on a horse half wild with the excitement of the hard pace. Austin felt wild…and devastated…and, above all, determined. “I am not going to lose her, too!” he shouted against the wind whipping his face. “I’m not. I won’t. She’s mine.”
Whether Walker was done arguing or just saving it for a more convenient time, the eldest Barlow leaned forward in the saddle, ducked his head, and matched Austin stride for stride as they raced over the lush, green hills, west, with the mountains rising up alongside them.
Sofia, Dakota, and Cassidy were all waiting on the porch with Sofia clutching her rosary and wiping tears with her handkerchief. “Dios mio,” she said gesturing him to her side. “Oh, he’s returned. He’s safe. Espíritu gracias poor mantener a salvo.”
Austin drew the older woman near, kissed the top of her head, then strode past them all to the front door. Upstairs, he threw clothes into a bag, stuffing them in haphazardly, barely zipping it closed. He shouldered the duffel and headed back downstairs.
Walker was waiting in living room, blocking the path to the Big House’s front door.
Austin’s hands clenched into fists, ready to fight if he had to.
To the side, Dakota and Sofia both stood looking worried. Seth was there, too, deep frown lines creasing his face.
“Don’t try to stop me,” Austin warned them, taking a step toward the exit.
“I’m not going to,” Walker replied.
“Then move,” Austin snapped. His chest felt tight, slightly panicked. He just wanted to be with Leah, to hold her, to feel her against him.
Walker stepped entirely in front him, though, cutting him off.
Austin let the duffel slip down his shoulder. It landed on the hardwood floor with a thump. “I swear to G—”
Walker held up his closed hand. “I don’t need this, but you do,” he declared evenly. “Take it.” The man’s large hand opened to reveal a glittering ring—Mom’s ring—her engagement diamond.
Austin blinked down at the offering then glanced at Dakota, who looked stricken. He turned back to his brother. “Walker—” he half-whispered.
“Take it,” Walker insisted with a sharp shake of his head.
Dakota said nothing but Austin could practically feel the tension in the room. Sofia silently reached down and took hold of her daughter’s hand. Austin had never seen Dakota cry, not once in their entire lives, and he hoped to God it wasn’t going to happen now.
Walker didn’t need it? What the hell did that mean? Of course he did! Of course Walker and Dakota were going to need the ring, were going to end all this nonsense, were going to get married. He was the oldest. It had been left to him.
Austin started to protest but Walker grabbed his wrist, twisted it gently, and dropped the ring into Austin’s palm before closing Austin’s own fingers around it.
“Go get her and bring her home,” Walker declared quietly. “Bring her back to the family.”
Austin swallowed hard fighting waves of confusion, desire, disappointment, and excitement all roiling inside him. He wanted to stay and argue, to figure out what the fuck was going on, but he needed Leah. He had to go get her. Something inside him wouldn’t wait any longer.
He gripped the ring, stuffed it into his pocket with a guilty look cast toward Dakota who said nothing, then he ducked past Walker and headed out the front door.
Chapter Forty
‡
&n
bsp; Leah stepped off the bus and was greeted by a now-familiar sound—distant thunder. It seemed to be following her now, stalking her every move. Storms clouds appeared so frequently in her life now that she was certain they’d never leave, never stop casting their shadow over her. It reassured her, at least, that she was doing the right thing (for once).
She crossed the street and made it to the dam side of the highway. Before she could make it safely past the building, the large doors opened and a woman stepped out. Leah recognized her from before, the one who’d tried to warn her about the storm.
“Well, hello again!” she said, waving. “We haven’t seen you lately,” she said. Something about Leah’s appearance must’ve struck a chord because the woman’s smile faded quickly. Her brows knitted together in a frown. “Are you all right, dear?”
Leah forced herself to nod even though she was the farthest from ‘all right’ as she’d ever been in her life, even crouching on her knees vomiting after each round of chemo had nothing on the wave of nausea that had taken hold of her since the miscarriage and showed no signs of ever letting go. She seemed to be operating now in a fever dream of sorts, here but not here, alive yet not existing at all.
“I’m fine,” she replied in a voice as even as she could muster. To avoid any more uncomfortable questions, she slipped past the woman and headed toward the dam’s large, concrete walkway. A cool breeze shot over the ledge as large thunder clouds rolled in from the east.
“It’s going to rain,” the woman called after her.
Leah merely waved a hand in acknowledgment.
Apparently unsatisfied with the limp response, the woman shouted, “There’s another storm coming!”
Leah ignored her, too tempted to tell the woman that the storm had already come and gone, and had left nothing but destruction in its wake. She hurried across the walkway, stopping at the halfway point, already out of breath from such an exertion. The doctors had told her recovery would be slow. She wasn’t certain decades would be enough to overcome the exhaustion that felt as though it were set deep into her very bones.
Weakness had become her permanent state.
And she hated it.
From her pocket, she drew out that wrinkled, rumpled, crushed, and folded scrap of paper that had seemed so important once.
She tore it, shredded it, then let the wind take it, like an offering.
Or a sacrifice.
The tiny little pieces got caught in an updraft, swirling overhead before descending to the water below. She’d done everything on her list, and not a bit of it mattered. They were pointless little moments in a life that had never, and would never, amount to anything.
She looked down at the dark, churning water, her own tears dripping from her cheeks and adding to the reservoir below. She leaned over farther, pressing against the warm concrete. The sun was gone now, hidden behind the storm clouds, but the walls of the bridge still remembered. Too bad people weren’t like that, she thought. Leah couldn’t remember the sun. Only the storms. And the pain. And the exhaustion of illness. She angled down over the water, dangling herself maybe. And why not?
God had dangled so many things in front of her over the years: Life, a child, a family of her own. Now it was all gone, all pulled away from her in one long, painful slow-motion loss. It was too much, she decided—too much to give, too much to lose.
Climb a mountain. Yeah, right. She’d tried. She’d given it all she had, but she couldn’t climb anymore, couldn’t lift herself up. She was too tired, too broken. Below her, splintered wood scraped across the smooth, solid walls. She felt that way, too, shattered and at the mercy of the forces around her.
Climbing back up was too hard.
Down was easier.
So much easier.
Falling was easier than climbing.
She looked up at at the gathering clouds just as the first drops of rain hit her face. Another storm in a life filled with too many.
Leah closed her eyes and gripped the railing, scratching at it with her fingernails, pushing on its solid mass with outstretched hands as she lifted herself up onto her toes.
Chapter Forty-One
‡
Austin parked his truck in the lot of the Buffalo Bill Dam Visitor’s Center and killed the engine. He was out of places to look for her and it was getting dark fast. As he leaned forward in the driver’s seat, he thought he saw the shape of a person on the bridge on the far side of the lot. A larger woman was standing by the building’s front door, frantically waving her arms.
He threw open the truck door and sprinted between the parked cars. “Leah!” he yelled, but the wind carried it away. The woman; however, was closer and she turned to look.
“On the bridge!” she called out, as though he didn’t see her, as though he weren’t already trying to get to her.
When he rounded the corner, he was close enough to see what she must’ve seen. Leah far too close to the edge, with one knee already on the wall of the bridge. His heart leapt to his throat and he pushed himself forward, legs pumping hard on the asphalt. “Leah, no!” he bellowed and this time he was close enough for her to hear.
Her head jerked, eyes searching until she found him, charging toward her. She backed up, backed away from him, but he covered the rest of the space between them in just a few steps and grabbed her arms. “What are you doing?” he shouted. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Nothing, I…I was…”
“Were you going to jump just now?”
“I…you can’t be here,” she said, sounding suddenly angry.
“The hell I can’t. I just pulled you off that wall! God damn it, Leah? Answer me! Were you going to jump?”
“I…I don’t know what I was going to do,” she said quietly. “I really don’t know. I just…I don’t want to hurt anymore.”
He could tell she’d been crying and still was. Hell, he had barely stopped since seeing her in that hospital bed.
“I can’t believe this,” he said, shaking his head, trying hard to not shake her. “If I hadn’t been here. I almost wasn’t here. I was almost too late.”
There were two women now, he noticed, standing at the door of the building. He moved Leah farther away from the edge so they were both standing in the middle of the bridge. “Come on,” he told her. “We have to go. We have to get out of here. I’ll take you home. We’ll…” He wasn’t sure what would come after that but it was obvious that things couldn’t go on as they were. They were both hurting way too much. “We’ll get some help.”
“I don’t need help, Austin.”
“Leah, you were…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Images of Walker dragging their father’s frozen body back to the house flashed in his mind. They were soon replaced with an image of Leah, floating in the emerald green reservoir below them. He shook his head, clearing it from his mind before he vomited. “We’re going to go home, damn it. Back to Star Valley. And I’m going to find someone for us to talk to and we will get past this. Together. I came to get you, Leah. I came to bring you home.”
“I’m not going with you, Austin.” She surprised him by sounding as firm and unwavering as he’d ever heard her before. She pushed on his chest, wriggling out of his grip. “I’m not going back to Star Valley. I’m just not.”
“You are, Leah,” he growled. “You’re upset and you’re hurting and I get that. Believe me, I do. But we’re still us. And I still love you.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re not thinking clearly,” she replied.
Maybe he wasn’t. She might be right about that. After all, just this morning Walker had pulled him out of the Snake and Austin, like Leah, couldn’t say for certain why he’d waded in. He only knew he’d been in pain, his whole body on fire with it, and he needed peace. But Leah was his peace. He understood that much; that much felt as real to him as the land he loved and the air he breathed and the rain coming down on them now.
Leah was all he had. And he couldn’t lose
her.
He pulled the velvet box from his pocket, nearly fumbling it in his haste. “I came to get you. And I’m not leaving without you.”
Leah backed away from him, though, and Austin fought the urge to grab her and throw her in the truck and get the hell away from this place, out of this storm. She shook her head but he wouldn’t accept it as an answer. He was here. He was here for her. The way it always should’ve been. He sank to one knee. The denim turned dark where the rising water seeped into it.
“Come home with me, Leah,” he pleaded, holding out the ring.
She blinked down at him. The rain seemed to wash away her tears but the pain in her eyes remained. “No,” she told him, as thunder rumbled over head again.
Chapter Forty-Two
‡
Leah couldn’t believe how everything had gotten so twisted up. She’d come here to get away, to release him from his obligation to her. But here he was, kneeling in front of her, after pulling her back from the literal brink, though she still felt beaten down by all she’d been through. She wanted there to be a light at the end of the tunnel, but didn’t want it to be him. What kind of person would do that to him? Not the person she wanted to be.
So she backed away, instead of reaching for the ring—for him. It was everything she wanted but not what Austin wanted. Not really. How could it be? She’d drag him down as surely as if she’d jumped over the wall just moments ago and taken him with her. They didn’t need to drown in this, not both of them.
Austin could be saved.
Leah couldn’t protect anyone else, not her parents, not her baby, but she could protect him—had to protect him. She couldn’t let him make another huge mistake. She shook her head, tears running down her cheeks. “No,” she whispered at first. Then louder. “No. I can’t.”
Austin leapt to his feet and reached out for her. “I need you home, Leah! And you need to come home. We need to take care of each other.”
