“I know, man. I know.”
“What did you come up here for anyway?”
He chuckles, tipping his hat. “To see if you and Essie wanted to come over for dinner tonight. I guess that’s off the cards now.” A sigh from my best friend has me stopping to regard him.
“Are you trying to guilt me into this?”
“No, I just figured you’d like to bring her around and I could get to know her better. I like Chloe and since she’s gone back to the city, I wanted to get some inside info from Essie. I’m thinking of heading to the city later next month to spend time with her.” He doesn’t meet my shocked stare. My best friend likes a girl enough to leave his country roots and step foot in a city. That’s some serious shit.
“Are you kidding me?” I ask staring at him in shock. This is the man who’s more country than Luke Bryan or Blake Shelton. His face is probably in the dictionary as the definition of Southern cowboy from Texas.
“What? Can’t I like someone?” He stalks toward the front door which heads out to our stables, staring out at the fields. Before I can respond, a car pulls up and I know Polly, my student of about three months, is here. Her mom drops her off every morning and picks her up after. “I’ll get going. Think about it, I’ll be down at the Grill & Grind.” With that, Rhett heads to his truck as Essie and mom walk out of the house. My best friend leans in to give the girl who’s got my mind in a blender a hug, and unwarranted jealousy surges through me.
“Hello, Clay!” Polly smiles. Dressed in her riding jeans and cowboy boots, she’s ever the little cowgirl.
“Hey, Polly. You ready for Sugar Plum today?” She nods enthusiastically, causing me to chuckle. Her excitement for riding reminds me of my own at that age. Turning my back to Essie, I show Polly to the field and her horse. I need to focus on work, not the beautiful honey-haired girl who’s going to ruin my life.
Chapter Six
Essie
“I’m sorry about him, darling. He’s been angry since… I mean, he just doesn’t realize that sometimes letting go of something is best.” I stare for a moment at Mrs. Walker, the sadness in her eyes and in her tone is enough to rip my heart to shreds. I can’t imagine what she went through losing her husband.
Being here suddenly feels as if I’m intruding on their life. As if I’m stealing a part of them, and that certainly doesn’t sit well with me. If I’d known why we were gunning for this ranch, I’d never have agreed to this trip. Guilt sits heavily in my gut when I turn my gaze toward the field where Clayton is teaching a young girl to ride. The smile on her face lights up when the pony she’s sitting on gallops. Squeals of delight echo through the air. But it’s not only that, it’s Clayton’s smile. The way he’s watching her. Vigilant, but something so much deeper. A love for what he’s doing.
“He loves that.” As if reading my mind, I turn to his mother, her proud smile is all I need to make a decision that might cost me my job, but I can’t do this. Taking someone’s livelihood is not something I want to do. It’s not what I signed up for.
“Would you excuse me a moment? I need to make a call.”
“Of course, honey. Why don’t you sit here on the patio and I’ll go inside and start lunch?” With a gentle smile, she turns and heads inside, leaving me to make the call I’m dreading. Scrolling through my contacts, I find Mr. Nicholson’s number and tap the call button.
While it rings, I watch Clayton, my heart seems to speed up every time he turns my way, but instead of the handsome smile he offered over the weekend, I’m afforded a scowl. He’s angry. He has every right to be.
“Nicholson.” The gruff voice of my boss comes from the other end of the line.
“Mr. Nicholson, it’s Essie.”
“Ah, hello, Ms. Rose. How is the assessment going?” He sounds overly confident. Too proud to rip someone’s life apart clearly.
“I don’t think this is the right property for your development. I know it’s in escrow. It’s—”
“I didn’t ask you for your opinion. This is the ranch I want, and as you will learn about me, Estha, I always get what I want. If you can’t do this job, I’d happily send someone else in your place. You can come back here, pack your desk, and find another chump to hire you.”
“No, I mean. This is a family run ranch. It seems a bit harsh to—”
“If you can’t handle the tough jobs, how can I trust you to run the office in Los Angeles? This is part of your job. Making money is the way a company works, Ms. Rose. If you’re not willing to make money, perhaps you’re in the wrong line of work. That ranch will be shut down, and redeveloped. In less than two years I’ll have condo’s filled to capacity taking advantage of the small town life. Now, are you ready to do what I hired you to do? Or shall I send someone else?”
“No, I can do it.” My voice sounds tired. Defeated.
“Good. I expect a full report in two weeks.” Before I have time to argue, he hangs up leaving me gaping at the blackened screen. I’ve already exhausted my first week here which was vacation, now I’m set to work. Two weeks left and I must give him something or I’m out of a job.
“Asshole.”
A chuckle startles me, snapping my gaze up, I find blue eyes that match Clayton’s. Cody. “If Mom heard me say that she’d wash my mouth out with soap.”
“Hey.”
“You made him angry.” The young boy gestures to his brother. “I’ve never seen him like he is with you. On Friday night, he smiled.” His words linger between us.
“What happened to him? I mean, I know your dad passed, but there must have been something else,” I question as Cody takes a seat beside me. He doesn’t meet my inquisitive stare, but he nods slowly as if he’s deciding if he should tell me about his brother or not.
When he doesn’t respond, I decide he’s not going to talk and make to stand up, but he places a hand on my arm. “He used to be engaged. I don’t really know, I was only in junior high school at the time. I think they broke up when he left school to be home because Dad got sick. There were a few times when he wasn’t home, a girl would call the landline asking for him, but she never left her name or a message. Almost as if she knew he wasn’t home.”
Cody shakes his head, his sky-blue gaze still pinned on his brother.
“That was almost four years ago. Dad got worse and Clay never went back to school. She never called again. I’m not sure if he told her not to call, but something happened. He didn’t mention her again.”
“I suppose he’s been through a lot. I’m just here to do a job, though, and I think he’s afraid of what’s going to happen.”
“Yeah, I would guess as much. I’m only sixteen, I don’t really get my brother. He’s changed after dad died.” He laughs without humor then, a deep rumble for such a young boy. “I thought you would fix him.” The words he speaks are filled with sincerity.
“I can’t fix something that doesn’t want to be fixed. Nobody can. He’s going to have to make a choice to let someone in. Life isn’t easy, Cody, you lose people you love, but it doesn’t mean you have to close yourself off to the emotion.”
He turns to me then, a small smile that matches his brother’s curls his lips. He’s going to be a heartbreaker one day. “You’re not so bad, Essie.” With that, he launches to his feet. “I’ll be seein’ you ‘round, little lady.” Once I’m alone, I steal a glance at the field, but can’t find Clay. Suddenly a little girl comes running up to the porch and behind her is the man in question.
His tanned face glistens with a light sheen of sweat. The cowboy hat he’s wearing is tipped just so, covering his one blue eye, giving me a view of his profile from where I’m sitting. His jeans hug his thighs; the light blue denim makes every curve of his muscles visible. The plaid shirt of light blue and white checkered squares hide the impossibly beautiful body below.
I know he’s built from seeing his chest when we went swimming in the lake. His gaze lifts to mine as he steps up to the door. “You still here?” he questions with a g
lare.
“I-I’d like to talk to you.”
He ushers the little girl into the house and exits moments later. “We can’t talk here,” is all he says before he steps out into the scorching afternoon sun. Rising, I grab my purse and phone, quickly following behind him.
No words are exchanged as we make our way up the dirt road toward the stables. He enters the large barn, heading toward the door on the other end. The grass is a deep plush green, making the sky look almost luminous. The colors are startlingly bright. Pulling my sunglasses on, I follow behind Clayton, but I’m too invested in the view of his ass in those tight jeans to notice he’s stopped, causing me to slam into his back.
“Shit! I’m sorry.”
“So you should be,” he growls and I know he doesn’t mean me stumbling into him. “Sit. Talk.” He gestures to the bench that overlooks the ranch. The view is impeccable.
Three horses graze the fields. The house in the distance shimmers under the sunshine. An oak tree shades the bench I settle on. Half expecting Clayton to join me, I shift to one side, but he doesn’t sit. With his hands on his hips, he regards me through narrowed eyes.
“I called my boss when you were teaching. I tried explaining this ranch is family owned and it wouldn’t be a good idea to buy it, but…” sighing, I steal a glance at him.
“But he said he doesn’t care?” I nod. “No surprise there. All you city folk are the same,” he grunts angrily. I don’t blame him, but I tried.
“Listen, I tried to talk to him. To explain that he should look at—”
“What, Essie? Some other family’s ranch? To take another home from a family who don’t deserve to have their livelihood stolen from them by some rich asshole sitting in a skyscraper?”
Jolting to my feet, I stalk toward him, prodding him in the chest. “No! Stop being so fucking obtuse and rude.” He stumbles back in shock at my outburst, but he doesn’t relent.
“Don’t come here telling me how to act. How would you feel if your home was stolen from you?” We’re inches apart, our faces both crimson with anger. But his words finally hit me square in the chest. He doesn’t know anything about my life. How dare he say that? Although, I’m just as bad.
“I don’t…” Shaking my head, I turn away from him then. I don’t need him to see me cry. To see how broken I am. “I’ve never…”
“Never what?” he bites out, but I can’t form words. The memory assaults me painfully, forcing me to shut my eyes so tight, I see stars behind my lids.
“Nothing.” My retort is cold. I shut down. Without turning to him, I stalk away, back toward the house. I need to get out of here. Away from this place.
“Essie!” he calls.
But I can’t go back. The tears stream down my cheeks. Anger, sadness, and the agony of what I’d been through knock the breath from my lungs. Before I can think about anything more, I break out into a run. Once I reach the car, I unlock it and slip into the driver’s seat. Lifting my gaze, I start the engine and see Clayton running down toward me.
I don’t wait for him to reach me, I make a three-point turn and head down the dirt road. I promised myself it was over, that I wouldn’t go back there, but his words dredged up that pain. Those memories. The town is quiet as I head toward the lake. I don’t want to be inside. Turning down the road we took yesterday, I pull up beside the liquor store and quickly race inside. Grabbing a bottle of bourbon, I pay without meeting the cashier’s eyes.
I’ll forget again. I’ve done it once. I can do it now. Tomorrow, I’ll call Mr. Nicholson and tell him I’m a failure. I should have known I couldn’t do this. Nothing I ever plan works out, so why would this?
Thankfully, when I reach the lake it’s empty. I find a secluded spot and put the car into park. Once I exit, I make sure it’s locked and head toward the tree closest to the water. Getting comfortable, I crack the seal on the bottle and take a long swig. It’s early afternoon, but the hole in my chest needs filling.
The only thing that’s ever helped me forget is this. The sharp burn of bourbon. It’s stupid to do this, I should call Chloe, but I want to be alone. I want to remember and forget all at the same time.
Damn you, Clayton Walker. Damn you.
Chapter Seven
Clay
Anger and guilt have been my constant companions since my father died. I’ve been angry at life, yet guilty because I wanted to be a better son for him while growing up. As much as we loved each other, I knew I wasn’t the easiest son to raise.
Slowly, I got over it, but when I look at Essie, I feel those emotions stealing my concentration again. I want her. There’s no doubt how much I wanted to kiss her again, take her out to the waterfalls, show her my home. When she walked up and told me she was here to take my family home, I couldn’t simmer my anger.
I directed it at her, and even though I know it’s not her choice, I don’t care. This is my livelihood. My family’s legacy. I’m not going to let it go without a fight. There’s nothing that’s going to stop me from sending her packing.
“Clayton,” mom’s voice comes from behind me. I turn to face her, finding the sweet face of the woman who’s been my rock. Even though I should be the one who looks after her, she’s become my support. I suppose we’ve become that for each other.
“Mom, it’s late. You should be sleeping.”
“Rhett called, he ran into Essie at the lake on his way home…” Her words taper off, and as much as I want to tell her I don’t care, it’s a lie because I do. Damn pretty girl.
“Is she okay?” I feign indifference but my mother’s smile tells me I’m not that good of a liar.
“She will be. Look, I know you’re angry with her, but I want you to remember, she’s only doing a job. This isn’t her choice, she’s a sweet girl and I don’t want to you push her away.” It’s like she’s reading my mind, which my mother has the ability to do most times I’m feeling down.
“You don’t understand—”
“Of course I do, honey. You care for this girl. I saw it when you looked at her earlier.” She settles herself on the stack of hay I’d just lugged in from the truck. A strike of lightning flashes outside, illuminating the dark sky dragging both our attention to the dirt road. The deep rumble of thunder follows almost immediately and the horses nay loudly at the sound.
“We’ll have to close up here,” I say, ignoring what my mother’s just said. She knows I’m avoiding the subject. My mom nods, rising and strolling over to help me pull the wooden door closed. As soon as it’s shut, I head over to each horse and give them a little talk to. My voice is low as I murmur to each one.
The dirt being kicked up by wheels of a car or truck has me turning to the entrance. “What’s Rhett doing here?”
“That’s what I was coming up to tell you. I’ve asked him to bring Essie here. She can’t be alone in the state she’s in,” My mother murmurs before making her way down to my best friend. “Hey Rhett, how are you, son?”
“I’m good, ma’am.” Jesus my best friend can be an asshole flirting with my mother. Heading out to meet him at his truck, I notice the pretty blonde in the passenger seat.
“What’s happened?”
“Found her down by the lake with an empty bottle of bourbon. She’s not in the best shape, been crying ever since I found her.” The ache in my chest intensifies at this news. Guilt once again settles heavily in my lungs, making it difficult to breath.
Panic attacks aren’t new to me, but I feel one coming on, so before I can give in to the emotions taking hold of me, I head over to the door, pulling it open. “Come on, sweet cheeks,” I murmur. She’s drunk, so wasted she doesn’t realize it’s me and nuzzles into my neck, causing my jeans to tighten at the crotch.
Fuck, she’s so beautiful. Even with her tear stained cheeks and smeared make up that makes her look like a raccoon. When I turn around, both Rhett and my mother are staring at me like I’ve just grown another head.
“What?”
“I’ll see yo
u tomorrow, man.” A chuckle from my friend before he gets into the truck and starts the engine has me on edge.
“Bring her in, Clay. She can stay in your room and you can stay in the spare room you’ve got all dad’s old hobby things in.” Of course she can. Take over my mind, my bedroom, my ranch. But she won’t get my heart. Walking into the house, I head down the hall to my bedroom. I realize the spare room has too much shit in it for her to feel comfortable, my dad used to use for his hobbies which I’ve turned into an office. Essie tugs on my shirt, inhaling it as she sniffles.
I return the favor. Besides the scent of leaves in her hair, there’s something sweet that reminds me of cotton candy and cherry bombs. Her body fits perfectly in my arms as I step into the room, setting her on the bed I tug the comforter and cover her tiny frame.
She curls herself into the blanket and murmurs something about missing them. Her body shudders then and tears dot her long lashes. Something tells me she’s lost people, someone she loved. Maybe her parents. I stare at her for far too long, but there’s something so beautifully alluring about this girl. She’s a temptation in my simple country life. A whirlwind invading everything I thought I knew and she’s uprooting my sanity.
“Clay, I’ve just brought a couple extra blankets. She looks like she’s freezing,” Mom’s voice from behind drags me from the thoughts of what’s hurt a woman like Essie so much that she found it acceptable to down a bottle of bourbon and cry herself into a stupor that had her half passing out at the lake alone.
Taking the blankets from Mom, I gently lay them over a trembling Essie, and as soon as the warmth envelops her, she stills. Once she’s asleep, I turn and walk out of the room, shutting the door quietly and making sure I don’t wake her. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, Mom. She’s a big girl, this is something she brought on herself.”
“Clayton, put some juice and painkillers beside the bed in the morning so when she wakes up she can take them. That whiskey is going to bring on one hell of a hangover.”
Dirt Road Promises Page 5
