Stubborn Truth (The Stubborn Series Book 3)

by Arnold, Jeanne

“Mom and Joel were making babies like rabbits and they didn’t even like each other,” Deliah sobbed into her sleeve.

  “They didn’t make you,” Caleb mocked. “You were born out of love, so stop complaining.”

  “What am I supposed to do? Tomorrow y’all are gonna tell me I’m a test tube baby.”

  “How long did this go on?” Lane asked Tessa. “How come she didn’t tell him he had a kid? How come Deliah never knew who Judson was?”

  “Sara knew if she introduced Deliah to Judson, she would be introducing her to the Haldens. Joel and Sara did have an arrangement to keep the children separated.”

  “If this letter was about Deliah, why didn’t she send it to Judson?” Caleb asked as he rubbed his sister’s shoulders.

  “She wasn’t writing about Deliah,” Tessa corrected.

  Deliah lifted her head and sniffled.

  I swallowed the dry lump in my throat as I got a look at Gabe’s twisted expression.

  “Wait a dang minute,” Gabe said. He stepped up to the table and leaned in to address Tessa. “There’s another kid? You’re saying Jud had another kid with her?”

  “No shit, Sherlock! I told you there was another baby!” Deliah shouted at Gabe. “Nobody ever listens to me.”

  Gabe uncurled his posture and stood beside Caleb. “I don’t think I wanna hear this,” he drawled.

  “Me neither,” said Caleb. “There are enough of us already.” He elbowed Gabe, but Gabe took it wrong and shoved him into the wall.

  Lane grabbed Gabe’s arm and pulled him back to the sink.

  “I feel terrible for them if they have to come live with us,” Deliah replied.

  “So where’s his other kid?” Gabe demanded. “What did she do with the baby?”

  Tessa stood and swiped her hands on her jeans and shook all of her long hair behind her shoulders. My heart pounded behind my ribs as her gaze floated from brother to brother. Then she turned to Gabe and the room began to spin. He looked as if he were going to vomit.

  Tessa touched his elbow. He flinched and recoiled against the counter top.

  “Judson is your father, Gabe. Sara wrote that letter twenty years ago when she couldn’t bring herself to tell him. When your brother died, she disclosed to me that you and Deliah are Judson’s children.”

  My heart stopped its frantic dance behind my ribs. Gabe didn’t move. I didn’t think he was even breathing.

  Lane muttered, “I didn’t see that coming.”

  “Holy mother of fruit loops,” Caleb drawled into his fist. “Everybody get their birth certificates out and slap ’em on the table right now.”

  I twisted my neck to glower at Caleb and spotted Judson standing in the doorway. The wide brim of his cowboy hat shielded his eyes. He tilted his chin in a form of goodbye and turned to exit by way of the deck steps. His boots clunked on the flooring, and then he vanished into the night. I didn’t think anyone else saw him.

  “Gabe?” Deliah whimpered. “Is it really true? Mom had you and lied about it?”

  He opened the door to the garage and scurried out before I could turn and catch him. I heard the bay door screech up the rails. Alarm overcame me, and I yelled for him to wait.

  He ran down the driveway in the direction of his truck and started it remotely.

  Mr. Halden appeared in the driveway with his phone glued to his ear. Gabe whipped past him.

  “Gabriel, what in god’s name is going on?”

  “Don’t leave me here!” I shrieked. My voice was full of desperation. I didn’t care if the media caught me screaming or if the neighbors thought I was nuts. I needed to stop him before he disappeared forever. “If you leave me, I’ll go back to New York and never come back!”

  He stopped but didn’t turn around. He opened the passenger door. I ran, shaking, and climbed inside. I sat in the middle after pushing a pile of books to the floor, but I didn’t touch him. I chanted inside my head. I was safe. He wasn’t going anywhere without me. I wouldn’t let him go.

  He threw the truck in drive and sped down the street. I had no idea if we were returning to the trailer or driving to Benjamin, Texas. I had no idea if he was ever going to speak to his family again.

  We drove west on US 2 toward Montana. I held my breath until we left the Williston city limits.

  “My middle name is Joel. What’s that about?”

  Gabe hadn’t spoken in forty minutes. His voice was still raspy from shouting. I stared straight ahead while he fled like an outlaw. My phone buzzed in my pocket. His buzzed on the dashboard. Neither of us acknowledged the fact that everyone was calling.

  “How long are you going to drive?” I glanced at the fuel gage.

  He shrugged.

  “I’m hungry. I don’t have my wallet. Could you stop somewhere?”

  Thirty seconds passed before he answered. “Nowhere to stop.”

  “A gas station is fine. I’ve survived on Doritos and Snapple before.”

  We drove a barren highway with the music blasting for another half hour before we came to a gas station. He used the radio to avoid talking.

  “I’ve never been to Montana,” I said as I climbed down. The entire drive had been in the dark, yet the idea of being in a new state was exciting.

  I inhaled the smell of gasoline and headed for the glowing building as Gabe filled the tank. I stopped when I remembered I had no money. “Can I borrow five dollars?”

  He nodded. I ran into the store. When he was done pumping gas, he met me at the counter. He was wearing his glasses. I had a stash of candy, his favorites, two sodas, a sandwich for me, and two slices of pizza for him. He handed me a fifty-dollar bill and walked out. He had a bottle under his arm. It looked like whiskey.

  “I got this too,” I told him as I set a package of cupcakes on the dashboard. I dropped the change on the seat and shut my door.

  He sat with his hands on the steering wheel, staring into the night while I opened my sandwich and smelled it.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” It was a stupid question. His entire life had been a lie. Food was the last thing he wanted. On the other hand, I needed to eat before I could process what happened.

  He didn’t answer. He was chomping on a giant wad of gum.

  “Have a bite. It’s good. Maybe not as good as the Texas barbeque would’ve been. You should eat something.”

  “No,” he said. He started the truck and accelerated hard. We tore out onto the road, continuing in the same direction.

  I consumed the rest of my sandwich while I stared at his stoic profile.

  After another thirty minutes, I asked him where we were going.

  “Far away. Does it really matter if I said Timbuktu or Neverland?”

  “I guess not.” As long as we were together, I didn’t care. “Can we talk about it?”

  He grunted and coughed. “You wanna psychoanalyze me?”

  “No. But I can help.”

  He glanced sideways and tightened his eyes. “I don’t need your help. I don’t wanna talk. I’m fine. I just need to drive.”

  The truck stopped. I woke up with my face pressed into the door panel and drool running down my chin. I glanced at the clock. An hour had passed. Gabe jumped down and walked into the office of a roadside motel. There was no one else in the parking lot. I opened my door and slipped when my boot hit the ground. Fresh snow coated the pavement. There was at least two feet in the yard.

  I stood behind Gabe at the counter and studied the advertisement wall. HalRem business cards were tacked to a board along with announcements for truck rentals and prayer cards. An anti-fracking poster with my face stuck out from under the clutter.

  The woman asked Gabe for his identification and then she peered around his broad shoulders to spy me.

  “Well, I’ll be smacked by a donkey’s tail—you’re the face of the movement. The ladies aren’t going to believe it’s you.” She pointed to the poster. “We started a group here. We meet on Wednesday nights at the parsonage for coffee cake and discussio
n. We call ourselves Nature’s Nurturers. Those pushy oil companies have no chance in this town.” She slapped her palm on the counter and huffed.

  Gabe’s head nodded like a bobblehead doll. He tipped his chin at me, and a sly grin ghosted across his face. “You should join her group, Av’ry. Those big oil companies are nothing but trouble.”

  I smiled at the woman and then leered at Gabe. Conveniently, he had a new sense of humor to share with a stranger.

  We walked past two rooms before he stopped and slid his card in the door. The air inside smelled musty.

  “There’s an all-night drugstore around the corner. What do you need?”

  “A toothbrush, a comb, juice,” I said. “I’m thirsty.”

  “That all? No girlie stuff or shampoo?”

  “I’ll use whatever they have here. I’m easy.” I sat on the edge of the bed and bounced one time to see if it would collapse.

  “Be back in a jiffy. Get undressed, get under the covers, and wait.”

  “Yes sir.” I pretended to salute him. At least he was talking.

  I came out of the bathroom wearing my shirt and underwear to find Gabe sitting in a chair, pulling off his boots. His hair was damp. There was a trail of snow from the door to his chair. He tossed a family pack of combs at my chest.

  “I only have one head and you hardly have any hair.”

  His cheeks were extra rosy. He pulled his glasses off and frowned. “How come you’re not in bed?”

  “I forgot to ask you for floss.”

  He reached into his jeans and pulled out a small white box. My eyes lit up. “You might need this too.” He pulled a travel-size tube of toothpaste out of his jacket, set it on the dresser, and took a seat on the side of the bed. Then he fell back and rubbed his eyes. “Juice is in the fridge.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What do I get?”

  “Looks like you got it already. Are you really going to drink that?” I gestured to the dresser.

  “Later.”

  “Sit up,” I told him. I climbed onto the bed and sat on my knees behind him. When I pulled off his jacket, his phone and a bottle of aspirin fell out. There were new missed calls on his screen and a text from me. I picked up the aspirin and shook it with question. He took it from me and pitched it onto the bedside table.

  “I threw my phone in the garbage,” he said. “Then I dumped it over and got it back out.”

  I set my chin on his shoulder.

  “I know you don’t want to talk to them. I hope you’ll talk to me if you need to.”

  “I won’t,” he drawled.

  “We’ll work this out. I don’t care who you look like. You’re still the same to me.”

  He snickered under his breath. If there was a hint of an agreeable mood left inside him, I was going to find it and hold tight.

  I ran my hands under his shirt and up his back. He reached around and grabbed my legs and held me. My fingers dug into his shoulders, and he groaned as I kneaded his muscles, his arms, and all of the tightness and knots beneath his skin. Then I massaged his head and neck and played with his hair.

  “Where’d you learn to do that?” he murmured. He was losing his voice.

  “Am I putting you to sleep?”

  “Naw, I can’t sleep, but it feels good.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t drink Mountain Dew at eleven at night.”

  He turned around and pushed me over. “That was hours ago. What are you—my father?”

  I fell back and studied his expression. “I’m glad you can joke.”

  “Forget I said it.”

  Gabe crawled over me and sat on my legs. His shirt was bunched under his armpits. He lifted it over his head and tossed it on the floor.

  I ran my finger over his scar and he tensed his abs. “At least the Barrett rumor is dead. Deliah was going to need a transfusion to rid herself of his demon blood.” I tried to sit up, but he held my hands still.

  “I don’t want to do this now. Less talking. More touching.” He slid his hands around my waist and squeezed. I squirmed and he managed to trap my hands under his knees.

  “Don’t!” I laugh-cried so loud he covered my mouth with his lips. At first it was playful, and he tickled and kissed me simultaneously. As I exhausted my fight, his kiss deepened and became vigorous. I melted under his weight. The bed swallowed me up as Gabe kissed like he needed me to keep him alive. It was so intense I couldn’t breathe. It was so intense I didn’t need to breathe.

  * * *

  “He woulda let me grow my hair out,” Gabe said into the pillow. “I was gonna be a rockstar.”

  My stomach jerked as I tried not to laugh. He wasn’t asleep. “Are you talking about Judson and your childhood? You would’ve gotten away with a lot more stuff, I bet.”

  “Like tattoos and girls.”

  I tightened my grip on his chest and kissed his shoulder. He was the little spoon. “You wanted a tattoo?”

  “Naw. I hate them. But I woulda got a big one on my neck to piss off the lieutenant. Like a cobra. Caleb got one.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Uh huh, he did. He wouldn’t let me see it. It’s there somewhere.”

  I pulled on his shoulder, and he rolled onto me. He had a book in his hand and his glasses were on his forehead. He didn’t sound like himself.

  “Where? I never saw one on him.” I’d seen most of Caleb. I would know.

  “He got a motorcycle.”

  “Caleb has a motorcycle?”

  “Yep. Nope. Eli has one. Lieutenant bribed him to work in the oil. All I was allowed to have was dirt bikes. I can do some mad tricks, but they suck.” He moaned and wiggled his back against me. “I like this. Your boobs are soft.”

  I got a whiff of his sweet breath and figured out what was going on.

  I let go of his chest and he rolled over. The smell hit harder than a slap in the face.

  “You’re drinking whiskey in bed? Gabe, it’s morning. That’s so gross.”

  “Not in Hong Kong.”

  I scooted up the mattress and remembered I was naked. He pulled the covers off my legs, and I grabbed them from his grip. “Hey.”

  “Hay is for horses. He always said that. It’s lame.”

  “You’re drunk. You need to go back to sleep.”

  “I’m not drunk, Avy. Av-ery. Av’ry Ross.”

  I glanced over his shoulder and found the bottle on the table, half empty. I didn’t know how much he needed to drink to be thoroughly bombed. It wasn’t like we had to be anywhere.

  “I think I’m hungry,” he said. His hand was on my leg and then crawled up to my stomach. I pushed him away. “Yep, I am hungry.”

  “I’ll get dressed and go out for some food. It’s almost lunchtime.” I rolled myself in the sheet and stood.

  “Don’t get dresses. Stay undress. Don’t take my truck,” he slurred. Then he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood only to fall back against the side table and knock over his bottle. “Aw shit.”

  He glanced up and I saw it. The pain was indelibly etched in his eyes, his spirit.

  “Take a shower and you’ll feel better,” I told him. It was a lie. He wasn’t going to recover that fast. “Leave it. I’ll clean it up.”

  Gabe’s movements were slow and clumsy. He left the bathroom door open. He called me, and I rushed in to find him standing in the shower in his boxer briefs.

  “How do you turn it on? It’s broke.”

  Only Gabriel Halden was capable of being pathetic and adorable at the same time.

  I reached into the shower, and he yanked the sheet out from under my arms and grabbed my hips to pull me in. Just as swiftly he pushed me back out and threw up all over the shower floor. His cringeworthy heaves and grunts made me gag.

  “Jeez, Gabe. Some warning next time.” I looked away and ran my hand behind the shower curtain to start the water. I left the sheet where it was and wrapped myself in a towel.

  “I’m gonna die,” he moaned.


  “You’re not going to die.”

  Steam began to fill the bathroom. “Av’ry, I hate them all. I hate him. I hate Jud. I hate her.” He pounded his fist on the tile and spit.

  I bit my lips together and closed my eyes. It was hard to see him hurt. Then I dared to ask, “Your mother? You don’t mean your sister.”

  “I like that Monas Deliah. She and me got gypped bigtime,” he said.

  I knew he cared for his sister. I just never thought he would admit it.

  A knock on the door startled me. It sounded like someone was standing outside the bathroom the way it echoed through the walls. I ran into the bedroom and dropped my towel. Gabe’s shirt was on the chair. I pulled it on and wrapped the towel around my waist.

  “Where’d you go?” Gabe shouted. “Simon says wash my back.”

  The room smelled like a bar. Whiskey puddled on the carpet. I stared at the door as the feeling of despair lifted. I knew who it was.

  Eleven

  “The boy’s got a hitch in his gitalong, is all,” Lane told me. “He’ll work it out of his system. You’ll help him. Hide the booze.”

  Clothing was strewn all over the motel room. Gabe’s jeans were on the TV. My underwear was draped over a lampshade. I was embarrassed for Lane to see the mess we made and for him to imagine how the clothing came off and landed where it did.

  “I wanna see your boobs,” Gabe hollered from the shower.

  Blood rushed to my face so fast it hurt. Lane closed his eyes as if he were trying not to look exactly where Gabe made him look.

  “Tessa’s with me,” he said. “We’ll go fetch a bite, and y’all can join us at the diner when you’re decent.”

  “He can’t go out like this. He’s in bad shape.”

  Lane pointed to the aspirin bottle. “Make him take a few of those with a gallon of water.” Something caught his eye, and he walked to the bedside table. He waved his expired ID in my face. “What the hell is this? He freakin’ pinched my license.”

  “Tessa drove out with you?” I asked in an attempt to get back on the subject of fixing Gabe.

  Lane’s hazel eyes held a glimmer of hope. “He needs to hear what she has to say.”

  Gabe opened the bathroom door. He was holding the wet sheet at his waist. Lane walked toward his brother and laughed.