Chapter Fifteen. Case

I'd have never anticipated Winnie's junker of a car could spin gravel so hard, spitting dust and fury into the sunny spring afternoon. It's the perfect visual representation of the verbal smackdown she unleashed on me. In her quiet way, she put me in my place, and I feel like the biggest fool on the planet. Of course she can't do this. God, she can barely manage the work she does here at the ranch, and that's within driving distance of her brother and sister.

I groan, thudding my head against the fence post. I recognize Winnie's barn coat slung over the top and pull it off the rail. That's just great. And she's going to be cold. Way to go, Michaels, you fucking jerk.

Minutes later, I recognize Pax's truck speeding up the long dirt drive, and I make my way over to him as he's easing next to my SUV. He rolls down his window, and I lean against the door, Winnie's coat still slung over my arm.

"Hey, man."

"Hey, yourself," he says, sounding amused. "You look like shit. I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab some food with me, but—"

I'm already shaking my head. "I would, but I think I need to, uh, go." I clear my throat, tugging on my ball cap with my free hand. "I have to chase after someone. I fucked up."

He nods sagely. "Does this have anything to do with the way Winnie Sutton peeled out of here, Miranda Lambert screaming out her windows?"

I grimace. "Probably."

"You sure you don't want to let things settle down? I only saw her for a half second, but she looked—" He frowns. "I'm pretty sure she was crying."

If possible, I feel even worse. "Yeah, I think that means I have to go. And I shouldn't wait."

He nods, muttering, "Godspeed," before brightening. "D'you know where she lives? I dropped her brother off last week. He's still dating Chelsea, apparently."

"Actually, no, I have no idea. That would be great. I was gonna…" I trail off because I have no idea what I was gonna do. I hadn't gotten that far. I'm way out of my element, but I imagine stealing a look at her employment records for her address isn't very ethical.

A few minutes later, with Pax's directions in mind, I'm making my way across town toward the Suttons' place. I take my time, collecting my thoughts and practicing my apology while cursing Walker and his stupid list.

I'm shit at making friends. Okay, that's not true. I'm not reducing Pax to tears every time we hang out, so I can't be that bad. Maybe I'm just shit at girls. Why would Walker pick someone so pretty and hardworking and smart to be my friend? That seems counterproductive. Obviously, my inevitable crush on her would make me act like a fucking idiot. There's no other explanation for why my boot is constantly stuffed in my mouth around her: I keep trying to swoop in and play savior when she very clearly does not want to be saved.

Eventually, I find my way in front of the olive-green trailer Pax described. I pull next to a tired-looking Ford pickup and hesitate. Winnie's car isn't here, and I'm second-guessing whether I have the right place before I see movement behind a beige-and-white gingham curtain on the front door and see a familiar set of braids. The door flings open, and Garrett steps out on the stoop, waving wildly.

Silver lining: at least one of the Sutton girls doesn't hate me.

I release my seat belt and reach for the barn coat before stepping out into the cooling evening air.

"Hey, Braids," I say, using my new nickname for her.

"Hi, Case! What're you doing here?"

I raise the coat, grateful for the excuse, and offer it to Garrett. "Winnie forgot her jacket at work. But I see she's not here, so—"

Garrett steps away from my offering and instead opens the door, beckoning me. "Come on in! She's supposed to be home soon. You can wait for her."

Right. I'm sure Winnie will love me being here in her home, uninvited. I bite back my sigh and follow her sister in, my curiosity overruling my need to not piss off the eldest Sutton. Besides, I'm already in deep. Might as well make it count.

The small home is warm and cozy. I expected it to be… different. More desolate maybe? Or cramped. I immediately feel like a dick and decide to check my privilege at the door. Absolutely nothing about Winnie or her sister—or even her brother, for that matter—has given me reason to judge them by their presumed lack of wealth. Christine's snide remarks from Pax's party a month ago are still fresh in my mind, and I feel my face get hot at the memory.

The reality is different. The paneled walls are painted a soft, neutral color and the carpets are thin, but tidy and clear. The kitchen is small, with old laminate on the floor and generic cabinetry, but every surface is gleaming and spotless. There're candid pictures of the three Sutton kids everywhere, and while the furniture is definitely worn, it's covered in soft-looking pillows and throw blankets.

I inhale a deep, reassuring breath. Winnie. Everything feels like Winnie. Neat, practical, warm. I swallow hard at the implication. This is her home. She's made it a home. I have a bedroom I barely think about, but Winnie has an entire home.

Her brother is sitting on the couch, inquisitive expression on his face, his phone all but forgotten in his hands.

"Hey. It's Jesse, right?" I cross the room and hold out a hand. "I'm Case."

"Yeah. I remember. You gave me your beer." Right. Shit. Let's add that to the list of disappointing things I've done to a member of the Sutton family. "You're friends with Pax," he continues, not noticing my inner turmoil.

I nod. "I just left him. He told me how to get this to your sister," I say, holding up the excuse barn coat.

"He's a good guy," Jesse says, sounding grown. A smile presses against the corners of my lips when he stands to his full height, flexing his gangly limbs. "Winnie's not here right now."

It's obvious he's taking his measure of me, and I don't mind. In fact, I'm sort of relieved. From all the grief this kid's given his big sister, I expected him to be a selfish asshole. He might be that, but it's clear he does care. Fuck's sake, someone needs to.

"Braids mentioned that. I was going to drop this off, but she insisted I wait." I search around awkwardly for something to say. "This is a nice place you have here."

"Winnie," Garrett says as explanation, confirming what I'd already guessed. "Once she started working at your ranch, she saved up a bunch of money and did a full remodel. Well, aesthetically, anyway." I chuckle at her wistful expression and five-dollar word, though I suppose for a mini-genius, it's more like a fifty-cent word. "Want to see our room?" she asks, already tugging my hand. "You can't come in. It's a rule. But you can look from the door. I cleaned it because it's Friday, and if I clean my side of our room on Fridays, Winnie and I get to have a movie date with popcorn and MMs, and I get to pick the film."

I spend a full minute oohing and aahing at the gold and pink décor of Garrett and Winnie's room, impressed at their commitment to the theme. Sorry, aesthetic. I'm not a ten-year-old girl, but I think if I were, I would be pretty infatuated. I make a conscious effort to avoid studying the less glittery half of the tiny room. Too much, anyway. My eyes might linger on her simple floral bedspread and the imprint left behind on the pillow when its owner woke up this morning. But that's it.

"And who is this?" A deep, mild voice comes from a short hallway off the kitchen, startling me from my reverie.

"Daddy! It's Case Michaels. He rides bulls! And owns the ranch Winnie works at!"

Mr. Sutton is tall, dark-haired, and lanky with pale features and deep bags under his eyes. He looks freshly cleaned up, so I guess he must have just woken up for work. I make my way across the kitchen and hold out my hand.

"Hello, Mr. Sutton. I'm sorry to intrude. I came to return Winnie's jacket. She left it behind today, and I thought she might need it this weekend."

He takes my hand briefly and then searches the living space. "Where is she?" he asks, as if it's only now occurred to him she's not home.

Guilt creeps up my throat, but before I can confess anything, Jesse answers, "She just texted. She had something come up but is grabbing a couple of pizzas and will be home soon."

Mr. Sutton glances at the clock and runs a tired hand through his hair. "Cutting it close," he mutters.

It takes me a beat, but I realize he means about dinner. He was waiting for her to bring him dinner before work, and my stomach squirms uncomfortably.

"Well, I'd better hit the road, then. Don't want to be late. Let your sister know I grabbed something on the way." He reaches to remove his coat off a hook by the door and turns to me. "Nice to meet you, Case."

And with the slapping of a screen door, he's gone.

The fuck? That's it?

Jesse closes the heavier door before sitting at the table and looking at me.

"So, was… Is that—" I cut off, feeling disrespectful.

"Winnie gets annoyed when we leave the door open. Lets the heat out."

I close my mouth, clenching my jaw. That's not what I meant, but okay. That, too.

"Right," I mutter, forcing myself to remain impassive. "Kerry yells at me for that all the time, too."

Garrett snickers, pulling up a chair and offering me a seat. "I like Miss Kerry."

I sit down. "She likes you, too, Braids. You'll have to come back soon for more muffins. I can't eat them all by myself. I'll never fit on the bull at this rate."

"What happened at work?" Jesse cuts in.

"What do you mean?"

His eyes narrow. "Why isn't Winnie here? What'd you do?"

My breath leaves in a gust. "Oh, well…"

"Jesse!" Garrett practically hisses his name, clearly horrified.

His glare doesn't budge. "Winnie texted me she needed some time and would be home soon. She knew she'd be too late to catch Dad. She never does that."

I purse my lips and nod. "It's okay, Garrett. He's right. She did leave work upset, and it was my fault. Though, in my defense, my intentions were good." I shift in my seat. "I was trying to help."

I choose my words carefully, trying to give Winnie privacy but also realizing I'm in way over my head here.

"Have you ever seen Winnie race?" I start with a question.

Jesse shakes his head, but Garrett says, "A few times. She's like the wind."

I nod. "Exactly like the wind. She's excellent. More than. And there's this horse at our stables—"

"Queen Mab," Garrett offers.

"Yes. Mab. See, Mab hates everyone, and I mean everyone, but not your sister. They're like this power couple on the ranch. It's like they can read each other's minds or something. And Winnie's been training Mab to barrel race. Not for herself but for a future owner. And in doing so, she's unlocked Mab's potential. Camilla, our stable manager, has timed them on multiple occasions, and let's just say your sister and Mab could easily sweep every competition in barrel racing, local or otherwise. No one's heard of them yet, but I promise she could be the best there is."

"You're talking rodeos?"

"I'm talking the rodeo."

Jesse looks thoughtful and settles back in his chair. "What happened? This all sounds like good stuff. Why would she be mad about any of that?"

"Right? Except," I hesitate, because this is where I want to be careful. "Rodeo can be very expensive."

Jesse and Garrett are silent.

"So," I exhale. "I talked to my dad and asked him to come and watch her race, just once, and see her potential. See if maybe he would want to sponsor her—like have the ranch sponsor her. That's a common thing in professional sports competitions, you know? Sponsorships."

The siblings brighten.

"What did he say?" Jesse asks.

"Obviously, he was all in once he saw her," Garrett says.

I can't help my grin at her matter-of-fact tone. "Obviously."

"So why is Winnie mad? That sounds awesome."

I pause, trying to think of a way to say it without actually saying it, because while I've come to realize Garrett and Jesse are her reason for saying no, she'd never in a million years want them to feel that way.

But also, maybe they need to know that? Why is she the only one making sacrifices? Maybe she should accept help? This is definitely not my decision to make, though.

"Fuck," Jesse says before I've come to a decision. "I know."

"Jesse!" Garrett's eyes are wide.

He looks at his younger sister, his expression chagrined. "Winnie won't leave us. She promised she wouldn't leave." He turns to me. "She'd have to tour around to compete, right?"

I raise my head and dip it once, slowly.

Jesse slumps. "Our dad sucks," he says and raises a hand to gesture at the closed front door. "As you can probably tell. And we don't have a mom. Well, technically, we do somewhere, but hell if we know where. And, um, I was cutting school a lot. I stopped!" he insists at my raised brows. "But it's only been a few weeks and the school told Winnie they would have to call the police and the police means CPS and so Winnie was thinking she might have to file for guardianship if that happened to keep us together. In conclusion, this is my fault."

Garrett glares at him and looks so much like Winnie I almost laugh. "It sure is."

His face is so pale and stricken. I'm struck with a pang of sympathy. The kid is fourteen, after all. I made a lot of shitty choices at fourteen. Hell, I make them at nineteen.

"Regardless," I say. "She's mad at me, not you. Never at you. Okay? And your sister is a grown woman who can make her own decisions."

"So she's upset because you tried to help?" Jesse asks finally, his brows scrunching.

"I'm sure she wouldn't see it as helping," I explain wryly. "More like steamrolling her and offering her impossible choices my rich-kid brain can't even comprehend. To be honest with you, I messed up. To be extra honest with you, I keep messing up. I want to be her friend, but I'm not very good at it."

Something indiscernible dances in Garrett's eyes, and it makes me fiddle with the collar of my shirt. The trailer is feeling a little too warm and cozy all of a sudden.

Jesse studies me again. "Just her friend?"

I clear my throat. "Yeah." What temperature does Winnie have this place set at?

"Whatever you have to tell yourself," he says finally. "You know, I was there when you jumped in that pool buck naked."

I choke on air. "Yeah?"

He smirks, somehow knowing he has me by the balls. "Yeah. It was awesome."

I work at not looking at Garrett. "I wouldn't say that. It was cold. And I could have drowned. You should never go swimming after drinking. Not that you should drink in the first place, since you're way underage, but if you do…" I trail off, feeling extremely uncomfortable. "Anyway," I say loudly, straightening. "Now you can see why maybe it's best I go. I've done plenty of damage for one night. You guys can pass on the coat and let her know I came by."

"Not a chance," Jesse says. "I want to see her reaction to your being here."

I wince. "I don't need to ruin her night." To Garrett, I say, "Besides you have a movie date, right? And pizza."

"Movie date can be tomorrow. I agree with Jesse. Besides, you owe us. You made her mad, so you should be the one to make her happy."

"How?" I choke out. "I'm a disaster at this."

Garrett is beaming. "Keep trying."