First Instinct

by Suzie O'Connell

  She choked on that part, still unable to believe Darryl had said those things about her, especially since he’d been the one to end it. Had it been nothing more than macho bragging or had she done something to make him hate her so much he’d spur Trey on with lies?

  “Beth and I had homework to get to, and since Trey was still playing pool and Michelle wanted to stay out with her friends,” Nick supplied, “Beth walked home with me.”

  “We made plans to get together a little while later to go over our papers for Rodnick’s class. I’d almost finished my first draft when Trey came back from the bar—he and I were supposed to get started on our project for a different class. He didn’t want to work on it.” With her eyes burning and her breath coming too fast, she had to pause to take a deep breath. “Trey told me that Darryl said I’d slept with him, that I liked it rough…. And then he said that he thought my decision to wait was a lie.”

  She couldn’t do it. Panic clawed at her, and her heart beat erratically in her chest as the memories swirled around her. The tears started falling, and she hugged herself, shaking and fighting for breath as she realized she couldn’t reveal the rest of what had happened because it still terrified her to even recall it within the privacy of her own mind.

  “We’re done,” she croaked.

  “Who’s done?” her mother asked in the same soothing voice she’d used when Beth was a small girl with a skinned knee.

  “T-trey and me. We’re d-done. Over.”

  She hated her stuttering mouth for failing her, hated herself for not being able to hold back the tears long enough to get out even that simple and uninformative explanation, and hated Trey for his barbarity. She gave herself a moment to relax and tried to say something more, but nothing came out.

  Shaking her head, she stood. “I can’t do it, Nick. I’m sorry.”

  With his elbow braced on his knee, he dropped his head in defeat. The disappointment in his posture was as clear as if he’d expressed it out loud. Choking back more tears, Beth turned and escaped out to the porch. She tipped her head back and tried to draw a deep breath to ward off the panic, feeling Trey’s hands on her again and hearing the viciousness in his voice.

  “What happened, Nick?” she heard her father ask. “What isn’t she telling us?”

  A small part of her—the part that loathed Trey and understood fully that he was solely responsible for his actions and that she had done nothing to provoke him—wished Nick would just tell her parents the truth, but she was relieved when he didn’t. At first, he didn’t respond at all.

  “You know,” her father said. “You fought with him, so you I know you know. What did he do?”

  “I can’t tell you that. Beth needs to do it herself in order to start putting it behind her. Please excuse me.”

  A moment later, he joined her at the railing of the porch and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. That simple gesture gave her the sense of safety she needed to conquer the hysteria, and she leaned into him. She could honestly say she’d never felt so close to him, and they’d been good friends for a long, long time. Was it simply because he’d been the brilliant ray of hope in her darkest moment or was it something else entirely? Recalling the sparks of jealousy whenever his attention was diverted to Michelle—where it should be, she reminded herself—she was conflicted. Nick was her friend. A much closer friend now than ever, but that was all.

  Her head was beginning to pound, so she buried all the uncertainty and fear again because it was easier to wish none of it had happened than to accept that it had.

  “It was too soon,” Nick murmured after a while. “I was afraid of that, but I hoped….”

  “What if I can’t ever tell them?”

  “You’ll find a way. When you’ve had more time to accept what happened.”

  “I don’t deserve you,” Beth whispered to herself.

  She didn’t expect an answer—in fact, hoped Nick hadn’t heard because she knew he’d think he was failing her somehow. But he did.

  “Yes, you do,” he whispered. A moment later, he said, “You haven’t told me what Trey said to you about his talk with Darryl.”

  “I’ve tried not to think about it, but you’re right. I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

  “I thought I told you I was sick of you apologizing.”

  He lowered his head to kiss her cheek, and she was unsettled when she felt the gentle patience leave him. When had she become so attuned to even the subtlest cues of his body? He straightened and relaxed the arm around her, though he didn’t let her go entirely.

  When he spoke again, the tenderness was gone, replaced by a subtle demand. “Now that you’ve had a few minutes to fall apart again, it’s time to get over it and pull yourself back together.”

  His words had the intended effect. Annoyed by his almost derisive tone, she pushed away from him with defiance burning away the lingering traces of anxiety. This wasn’t the first time he’d switched gears from gentle compassion to firm command, and as before, it was exactly what she needed. Just like when they danced, he knew how she was going to move before she took the next step.

  She braced her arms on the porch railing and let her gaze wander out across the valley that had been her home all her twenty-one years. The C-Diamond’s pastures and hayfields stretched over several thousand acres from north to south on the west side of the valley. With its speckling of black and red angus, it was her heaven. The Lazy H—Nick’s family’s ranch—sprawled over much of the opposite side of the valley, backed by the heavily forested foothills and tall granite peaks of the eastern Northstar Mountains. The deep and soothing peace of this quiet ranching community embraced her, and she closed her eyes to take in the soft sighing of the wind, the distant calls of the cows to their calves, and the singing of the meadowlarks and other birds. Drawing the blissful scents of sagebrush, fresh-cut hay, pine, and earth deep into her lungs and letting it out slowly, she opened her eyes again.

  “I want to just stay here,” Beth murmured.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I want to quit school. How can I go back if I can’t even tell my parents that I was…?” She shook her head and gave a humorless sniff of laughter. “Still can’t say it. If I can’t do that, how will I ever be able to face Trey? And if I go back, I’ll have to see him every day. See him and remember….”

  “You have to go back, Beth. I know you’re afraid of him, but you can’t let that fear control you. You’ve already put in three years and too much work to give up now. You can’t let him take that away from you, too. He’s already taken too much.” He ducked down to bring his face level with hers. When she lowered her gaze, he slid his hand under her chin and gently tipped her face up again. “Promise me, Beth. Promise me you won’t let him take anything more away from you.”

  The concern and hope and faith in his blue eyes stopped her immediate and self-destructive response. Meeting that gaze head on, she couldn’t utter the words, I can’t. So she didn’t.

  “I’ll try.”

  A brief smile of relief flickered across his features. “That’ll have to do for now.”

  By the following evening, the general consensus in Northstar was that Beth and Trey had simply broken up. The story of why varied from a heated argument during which Trey had said something to cause Nick to punch him to infidelity on Trey’s part. Nick snorted. He wished either of those were true. Only once had he heard someone implicate him as the reason they’d broken up—from Beth’s high-school-aged, drama-loving cousin, Helen—and he’d squashed that rumor immediately, assuring everyone that he and Michelle were still very much together.

  Nick had volunteered to help his brothers wash the dishes after dinner, but to his everlasting surprise, they declined his offer.

  “You’ve got a damaged wing,” Aaron teased. “We can handle it.”

  “And I’m sure I’ll owe you for this astonishing generosity later,” Nick remarked. “You’ve got it as long as ‘it’ doesn’t entail me buyin
g you alcohol.”

  “Told you he’d figure us out,” Henry muttered.

  “You’ve got two years left, boys, and I know you find this hard to believe, but patience is an admirable quality to have.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “Thanks for not telling Mom and Dad about this whole Trey-Beth-me thing before I could.”

  “We didn’t figure you’d appreciate us blabbing,” Aaron replied. “Wish you’d tell us what really happened, though.”

  “I wish I could. Give it time, and maybe Beth will be able to talk about it. Until then….”

  “Yeah, yeah, we know,” Henry retorted. “It’s not yours to tell.”

  Nick clapped him on the shoulder with a grateful smile. His brothers might be hellions from time to time, but at other times, like now, they showed him the strong sense of loyalty and maturity that made him believe they’d turn out to be good men when they were ready to leave behind the last vestiges of adolescence.

  Free of dishwashing duty, he headed out to the yard where his parents were still lounging at the picnic table and enjoying the pleasant evening. For a while, they were content to enjoy the silence, but inevitably, the topic of what had happened Wednesday night was broached.

  “So, what’s the story behind your shoulder?” his father asked. “And don’t try brushing us off and telling us again not to worry about it. Old Matt told me you got into a fistfight with Trey.”

  Nick eyed his parents. Of course Beth’s father, Matt Jr., had told his father, and of course Old Matt had in turn told Nick’s father. The patriarchs of the C-Diamond and Lazy H ranches were a pair of old gossips. Finally, Nick resigned himself to repeating the broken-record routine and sighed. “Yes, I got into a fight with Trey, but it wasn’t the big brawl everyone thinks it was. He hit me a couple times, and I hit him a couple times. It was over in seconds.”

  “Bullshit, Nick. You don’t dislocate your goddamned shoulder with just a couple of punches.”

  “By the time he hit me, my shoulder was already dislocated.”

  His father clenched his jaw and glared at him. Nick held his gaze with a silent plea, willing his father to understand. He had never in his life done anything to disappoint his parents, and he loathed leaving them with nothing to go on now, thinking that he’d thrown everything they’d taught him about right actions out the window when he’d actually done exactly what they would have expected him to do. After several minutes ticked away in tense silence, John’s shoulders fell and the anger left him in a sigh.

  “Who started it?” he asked.

  “Trey did.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “I may have hit first when I drove him into the wall, but he definitely started it.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. How can he have started it if you hit first? I’m not talking about whatever he said to start the fight. I’m asking who started the physical part of it.”

  “He did. I know that doesn’t make sense to you, but I can’t tell you anything that will make sense.”

  His father looked away, turning his attention out over the vast pastures and hayfields of their ranch. Nick observed him for a while, watching the muscle in his sire’s jaw work with a mixture of regret and restless anger.

  “I’m sorry,” he said after a while. “I know it seems like I’ve ignored everything you’ve taught me about being a good man, but I promise you I haven’t. I need you to trust me and to understand that I did the only thing I could to keep Beth from being hurt worse.”

  “Did you have anything to do with Trey and Beth breaking up?” Tracie inquired.

  His mother’s tone wasn’t remotely accusatory, but he bristled at her choice of words.

  “I’ve watched the two of you this weekend,” she continued. “You hover around her, ready to jump to her side if she shows the tiniest sign of strain, and she looks at you like—I don’t know—like you’re her anchor. You’ve always been close, but something’s different.”

  “I didn’t do anything scandalous, if that’s what you mean,” he retorted. He took a deep breath to subdue the rising agitation.

  “I wasn’t suggesting you did, honey. But something has changed. You’ve changed. I don’t think you’ve ever been so defensive or evasive… almost defiant. I know you and Trey were heading in different directions, but I never would have imagined you’d get into a fight with him.”

  “Neither would I, but believe me, Mom, I should have hit him a lot harder than I did.”

  Tracie and John both regarded him with shock and consternation.

  “We raised you better than that,” his father said, his voice trembling with the effort it took to keep a tight rein on his temper.

  “Yes, you did. And that’s why I did what I did.”

  “What the hell happened, Nick?” John asked, clearly distressed despite his efforts to maintain his composure.

  Nick growled. “I’ve told you again and again. I can’t tell you. Beth wants to just forget it happened.”

  His mother shook her head sadly. “I don’t understand any of this, and I’m worried about you. I’ve never seen you like this. Where is my easygoing, unflappable Nick?”

  “He’s being the best friend he can be to someone who really needs one right now.”

  He pushed to his feet and stalked away toward the corral behind his parents’ house. Perched on the rails, he watched the four-year-old bay quarter horse stallion within strut arrogantly around the enclosure. The animal was the product of champion cutting and roping bloodlines, and John had bought him with the hopes of starting their own line with him, but the beast was temperamental at best, downright mean at worst. So far, Nick was the only one who’d been able to ride him.

  “What are you all worked up about, Remington?” he asked. “You’ve got the life, bubba, whether you know it or not. You don’t have to worry about anyone attacking you or unbalancing your whole life, and you’ve got at least a dozen mares who think you’re hot stuff.”

  The horse snorted and walked over, stopping just out of Nick’s reach. With his ears forward and alert, he was absolutely beautiful, a perfect embodiment of his breed. Nick stretched out his hand, and Remington took another step forward to press his velvety nose into Nick’s palm.

  “All that posturing is just for show, isn’t it, Rem,” Nick murmured. “Unlike Trey. And you knew it, too, didn’t you. That’s why you bucked him off this summer.”

  Remington tossed his head as if to agree.

  Nick rubbed his hand over his face. Maybe he hadn’t been the victim of the assault, but it was affecting him just as surely as it was Beth. His parents were right. He wasn’t himself right now. The constant strain and anger was wearing on him, and he hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours since before Trey had so thoroughly revealed exactly what breed of thoughtless, savage asshole he was.

  His mother joined him on the corral fence.

  “What’s going on with you?” she asked. “I’m really worried.”

  “You’re right to be,” he murmured. “I still want to hit him, Mom. I want to hurt him so badly he’ll never come near Beth again.”

  “Why, Nick?”

  “Because of how badly he hurt her.”

  “Broken hearts heal, honey. I know she’s never really had hers broken before, so I suppose I understand some of what you’re feeling. She’s your best friend, and you’ve always had a strong need to protect those you care about.” She paused. “I’m sure Henry and Aaron would have gotten into a lot more trouble if you weren’t always looking out for them. Give it time, and she’ll get over him.”

  “I’m not sure she’ll ever get over it,” he said quietly. “But I get what you’re saying, Mom. And you’re right about me needing to protect her. I’m sorry I’m being such a jackass right now.”

  “You’re not.” Tracie patted his sore shoulder reassuringly and immediately apologized when he grunted. “Oh, honey, I didn’t think.”

  “It’s all right. It’s really not that bad, but it still
twinges pretty good when I bump it.”

  “I hope whatever Trey said or did is worth the pain.”

  “It is,” he assured her. And I’d take much worse if I could go back and stop him from raping her.

  He clenched his hands into fists again, assaulted by the what-ifs. What if his printer hadn’t jammed? What if, when Beth had asked him if he though she should break up with Trey, he’d said yes instead of giving an answer that had pacified her misgivings? What if he’d finished his paper just a few minutes earlier? What if he hadn’t had his radio on? He might have heard Beth’s first scream and might have reacted soon enough to stop Trey. What if… what if… what it….

  His mother raked her fingers through his hair, then turned his face toward her to examine the cut and bruise on his cheek. Satisfied that it was healing, she pulled his head down to her shoulder and went back to combing her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and let her mother him, knowing she needed it as much as he did. It amazed him how such a simple gesture could be so powerful, and he exhaled slowly, imagining his worries leaving his body with his breath if only for a little while.

  “You haven’t let me do this since you were a boy,” his mother murmured. “So I know you’re stressed. Your father loves you, and he’ll come around when he has time to process this.”

  “I know he loves me, Mom. And I don’t blame him for reacting the way he did. Honestly, he wasn’t as hard on me as I figured he would be. I wish I could tell you exactly what happened.” He pinched his eyes more tightly closed as the reality of it hit him again. “No, I don’t wish I could tell you what happened. I wish I had gotten there earlier. I wish it hadn’t happened at all.”

  “Oh, honey,” Tracie murmured. “Shh.”

  She rubbed his back, and he shuddered. Weariness and grief weighed him down, and he almost expected the fence rails to break beneath him.