Chapter 14

14

Melissa

T he Avery brothers stay away for a few days, giving me room to breathe and process what happened with Jake. In the meantime, they’ve alerted the staff to keep an eye out on the security feeds on their phones. Jake can never be allowed to get that close to the house again.

I can’t bring myself to tell them the truth: The reason Jake was here in the first place. If what he said is true, then it’s only a matter of time before the cartel tracks me down at the Avery Ranch. I can’t put these good people in such terrible danger.

“Oh, fuck,” I mutter as I stare at the plus sign on the pregnancy test I bought secretly when I went to town with Darla. The sickness wasn’t just from my past catching up to me.

My synapses are rapidly firing as I toss the stick into the bin and come out of my ensuite bathroom. What do I do?

It takes a while, but I manage to make my way back into the kitchen and prepare lunch for the crew as a blizzard rages outside.

Sammy, Kyle, and Jason take their seats at the table, where I’ve already laid out the bowls, the drinks, and the bread baskets. The stew is just about ready, though it needs another minute to cool down.

I’m so hungry, I could eat the whole pot.

“Melissa, are you alright?” Sammy asks, while Kyle pours water in his and Jason’s glasses. “You don’t look well.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m just tired. This weather is making me feel groggier than usual.”

“Tell me about it,” Sammy says. “I hate being cooped up inside like this.”

“Yeah, he needs to be out there, roaming the wild plains with the other mustangs,” Colton says as he and his brothers come in.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the kitchen and the dining area changes. The ranch hands can’t really tell, but I certainly can feel it. The stench of secrets and fear engulfs me as I give Colton, Ethan, and Mitch a warm, welcoming smile. “Hey, guys,” I mumble. “Lunch is almost ready. Have a seat.”

“It smells fantastic,” Mitch replies.

Sammy is nibbling on a slice of sourdough rye. “This is good bread, Mel. Did you bake this?”

“Yes, sir,” I reply with a hint of pride. “Putting that stored grain of yours to good use.”

“Someone had to grind this,” Sammy says, frowning as he glances down at his bread. “Who’d you fool into grinding the flour?”

Kyle clears his throat. “Guilty. Did it yesterday before the blizzard landed,” he says. “I almost froze my ass off in the barn, but clearly, it was worth it. Dang, this is good bread.”

“I’m glad y’all like it. I baked it with love,” I say with a chuckle, trying my best to ignore Colton, Ethan, and Mitch’s quiet yet persistent gazes. “Darla isn’t joining us. Is she okay?”

Colton nods once. “The meds the docs have her on are making her extra sleepy. She’ll find her way to the fridge if she gets hungry.”

“As long as she doesn’t touch my sausage,” Sammy cuts in. “Only got one left, and it cost me a fortune.”

Mitch gives him a wry grin. “Oh, Sammy. Pretty sure Darla doesn’t want to go anywhere near your sausage, you dirty old man.”

“I meant a real sausage!” Sammy croaks, his face red with indignation.

The whole room bursts into laughter before Ethan focuses on me. I almost scrape my knuckles on the cheese grater when he calls out my name.

“So, Melissa.”

“Um, yes?”

“Are we going to talk about the other day or are you planning to keep us in the dark?”

“Sorry. Yes,” I reply with an awkward smile, my heart beating a million miles per minute. I’m dangerously close to hyperventilating, but I chew on a piece of parmesan instead while stirring the rest of the grated cheese into the veal stew. “Like I said before, I’m really sorry about all that.”

“What did Jake want?” Colton asks.

“He was trying to reconnect, I guess.” God, I hate lying.

Mitch raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Reconnect? After he threw you under the bus and sent you to prison?”

“If I were him, I’d have moved to Mexico by now,” Sammy adds.

“He heard about my position with the Path to Freedom Initiative. I don’t know how, though,” I say with a heavy sigh, then carry the pot over to the table and place it on a sturdy wooden board for the guys to help themselves. “My guess is he had somebody in Ridgeboro keeping an eye on me.”

“An inmate or a prison guard,” Mitch surmises.

“Yeah, that’s my guess. But honestly, I don’t care about his endgame, I just don’t ever want to see him again. I regret opening the door. I guess I was curious about what he had to say,” I reply, filling my bowl with more food than usual.

Colton notices, half-smiling. “The cold’s upped your appetite, huh?”

“It’s a really good stew,” I respond, hoping the conversation about Jake will end here.

But Ethan’s not having it. “What did Jake say specifically?”

“He’s sorry he did this to me, but he can’t change it. He had no choice or whatever. Really, it’s not worth anybody’s time or attention.”

Ethan clears his throat, elbows resting on the table as I sense his anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “Melissa, he had you cornered and shaking. I heard him say he was going to rip you to fucking shreds before he punched the wall. That wasn’t an attempt at reconnection. That was intimidation.”

“Yeah, I guess. He didn’t like it when I told him to screw off,” I blurt and get up, unable to sit still for another second. My skin is crawling, my sweater too tight, my palms all clammy, my appetite scrambled. “I… Listen, I’ll let you guys have lunch. I’m not that hungry after all.”

“Melissa, hold on, we need to talk about what happened,” Colton takes my hand, but I yank it away as though I touched a hot stove.

“No! We don’t need to talk about it. I’m really sorry it happened, but there’s nothing to address here,” I snap. “Ethan was clear when he told Jake never to show his face around here again, and I’m sure Jake will keep his distance.”

“You’re not telling us something,” Ethan announces.

Mitch gives him a stern nudge. “Stop. She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

“I’m sorry for the trouble,” I say, trembling again. “Things got out of hand, but it will never happen again. I just want to do my job and serve out my sentence.”

“We want the same thing,” Colton replies.

Sammy frowns. “Mel, if that fucker is giving you trouble, all you gotta do is tell us. The law in Nebraska is pretty clear about trespassers and a man’s right to self-defense.”

“Oh, God, no, it’s okay,” I laugh anxiously. “Thank you, though. You are the sweetest man ever, Sammy.”

With that, I bolt out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my room. Thankfully, none of them follow me.

The guilt is too much to bear. My thoughts are scrambled. My resolve is in the gutter.

It’s Christmas Eve.

We’re supposed to gather around the tree, drinking eggnog or hot chocolate in my case, unwrapping presents and watching a movie on TV. We’re snowed in again, and it’s beautiful outside. I gaze out the window of my room, wishing my heart could be as silent and as still as this night.

I hear them downstairs.

Talking. Joking. Laughing.

It’s been a week since Jake’s visit, since my world was turned upside down, and I have yet to figure out a way to tell Colton and his brothers the whole story. How can I? How can I tell them the Esparza cartel is coming after me because of something I didn’t even do? That the ranch and the people who live here might be in danger.

I can’t tell them any of that.

And I can’t stay here either. It’s bad enough that Jake ruined everything—again. I couldn’t live with myself if something were to happen to any of these wonderful people.

I’ve put everyone in danger simply by being here, and it’s not fair.

“Melissa,” Colton’s voice startles me. He’s at my door, waiting for me to let him in.

I take a deep breath, putting on a sour face. I’ve been faking a headache all day. Gotta play my part and keep my distance, no matter how horrible it feels. It’s killing me. But the more I think about it, the clearer my decision becomes.

“Hey,” I mumble as I open the door.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, holding up a cup of hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows on top. It smells of honey and cocoa, and it makes my mouth water. “Figured you’d like some.”

“Thank you.” I take the cup and hold it with both hands for a while, letting its warmth flow through me like some kind of newfound peace. “I’m still not feeling all that great. I think I just need some time alone.”

“You take all the time and space you need,” Colton replies softly. “I’m not happy about it, but if it’s what you want, I can’t force you to be where you don’t want to be.”

I give him a long, curious look. “How are you so kind and understanding, Colton? I don’t get it. I brought that bastard here, and—”

“That wasn’t on you, Melissa. It was all him. He’s the one who decided to show up uninvited. But rest assured, it’s not going to happen again,” he says. “I look forward to talking about what happened that day, and I know you’ll tell us when you’re ready. In the meantime, I’m content with just knowing that you’re okay, that you feel safe here, ’cause we love having you here.”

His gaze lingers on my lips for a sweet moment.

“I don’t deserve you,” I tell him with a heavy sigh.

“Oh, but you deserve so much more.” He laughs lightly. “And let’s get one thing straight: You have to fight back, Melissa. You have to clear your name.”

“That’ll do more harm than good,” I mutter, but even I can hear the doubt in my voice.

Clearing my name would certainly get the Esparza cartel off my back. Who would believe me, though? Jake worked closely with the prosecution to nail me. He fabricated witnesses and planted evidence. He played his part so well that I didn’t stand a chance.

“When it became clear to me that the only way to avoid a much longer sentence was to give a false confession, I understood that the system wasn’t on my side. Jake played his cards right. Shed a tear here, planted some fake proof there, and wham. I was done for,” I say with a trembling voice. “I would like nothing more than another shot at a trial, but I don’t have any evidence. No witnesses. It’s just my word against his. I was so shocked, so stunned by Jake’s presence here that it didn’t even cross my mind to use the recording app on the phone you gave me. I could’ve gotten something for a defense attorney. But I didn’t think of that.”

“Melissa, it’s okay. No one expects you to know everything and to think of everything when the unexpected happens. I just need you to understand that you’re not alone in this, not anymore. You have to learn to let us in.”

“Ethan was so quick to protect me. And how did I repay him? By not telling him the whole truth. He must be so mad. We’ve barely spoken this week.”

“My brother isn’t good at expressing his emotions,” he says. “Granted, I’m not a model of emotional health and neither is Mitch, but among the three of us, Ethan is the worst.”

“I’ve seen worse.” I chuckle.

“He wants you to be safe and happy. And he wants you to open up, much like Mitch and I. We all want the same thing, Melissa. We just need you to want it, too.”

“I need a bit of time is all. A little more time to figure some things out,” I reply, my heart breaking as I plant a kiss on his lips and take a couple of steps back.

He smiles and nods slowly. “You’ve got it. But you should still join us downstairs.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Santa left you a little something under the tree.”

“Oh, no, he didn’t.”

“He sure did. You’ve been a very good girl.”

The way he says the words arouses me on a whole new level. I’d rather tear that sweater off him and have him fill me, stretch me, claim and consume me, instead of sulking up here in my room. But the distance I’ve put between us is more for their protection than mine.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I say, my voice barely audible, my throat closing up as I force myself to smile.

“We’ll have coffee.”

“Mmm.”

Colton closes the door, and I listen to the sound of his receding footsteps before I burst into tears and start rummaging through the drawers. I grab only the essentials and shove them in a duffel bag—just enough to get me out of Long Pine. I saved all the change from every errand they sent me on, and I’ve got about fifty bucks in cash. It should cover me for a day or two before I land a diner gig somewhere far away from here.

I’m leaving tonight.

It’s snowing again. It’s past midnight, and as I sneak down the flight of stairs, I can hear the winds raging outside. I hear the snow pummeling the house as well as ice flowers bloom over the windows. One candle remains burning in the living room on a solitary sill, its amber light dancing against the treachery awaiting outside.

It’s insane. It’s senseless. Yet I can’t think of a better way to keep the Avery brothers out of this new, terrifying chapter of an old mess that has cost me too much already. I don’t want my baby to be born in prison. I don’t care what I do with myself as long as I find a way to stay safe, healthy, and out of Jake’s and the cartel’s reach.

Looking around, I make sure no one sees or hears me as I carefully tiptoe toward the front door. I find Mitch’s car keys in a catchall bowl and fish them out. I’ll leave his truck somewhere easy to find and pray for his forgiveness. I’ll drive until I’m far enough from the ranch and close enough to a Greyhound station. Lord, have mercy on my soul for what I’m about to do.

The house is dark and quiet but for that little candle, so I unlock the door and sneak out into the crippling cold night. “Oh, shit,” I hiss as the icy wind smacks me right in the face.

I can’t see more than a few feet ahead. The winds rise thicker and louder, throwing heaps of snow everywhere. I remember where the trucks are, covered in thick tarps and secured to a sturdy grounded log.

I reach the bottom of the porch steps before the first doubt hits me. What if I can’t find Mitch’s truck in this nightmarish blizzard? What if I can’t start it? No, it’s a hybrid. It’s got enough electrical juice to get me out of here.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Darla’s voice startles me.

She’s on the edge of the porch, holding a rifle. It’s pointed right at me, and I don’t know what to do with myself.

I follow Darla back into the house where she directs me to drop my bag and sit in a chair by the fire. There’s a look of disappointment in her eyes as she calls the guys down.

“She was running away,” Darla says, her tone as biting as the blizzard wind still pummeling the house. “In the middle of that,” she adds, pointing at the window, She grabs the car keys from my hand and tosses them to Mitch. “She was gonna steal your truck apparently.”

“I can explain,” I whisper, barely able to look any of them in the eyes.