Chapter Sixteen. Case

We don't have to wait long for Winnie to show up, two hot pizzas in hand. She doesn't seem surprised by my presence at her table, likely because she saw my SUV in the drive, but that doesn't keep her from scowling at me.

"You left your coat."

She rolls her eyes, but her face is flushed. "How'd you know where I live?"

Right. I invited myself over to her house.

"Um, Pax came by after… after you left, and he offered to tell me. I planned to drop off your coat, but you weren't here, and then Braids, um, I mean Garrett, invited me in."

Winnie's face is even pinker, but she still manages a scary glare. "And you decided to make yourself at home?"

My eyes dart to Jesse and Garrett for some assistance, but the former isn't even trying to hide his glee at my discomfort and the latter has eyes only for her big sister.

"I didn't—"

She mutters a curse under her breath and gestures to her brother. "Get some plates and set the table. Make it for four," she directs in an overly polite tone. "We have a guest."

"Oh," I say awkwardly, making to stand. "That's okay. You don't have to feed me."

She levels me with a look. "Sit your butt down, Case. We have plenty."

Her tone is as brisk as ever, but there's something warmer around the edges I've only recently learned to recognize, and I decide to take the offering for what it is. "Okay."

The Sutton siblings chat during dinner, and I listen. It's captivating the way their conversation flows round and round. Everything is familiar and easy. I'm a little envious, which is a mind fuck, considering everything else at play here.

"Case was telling us about barrel racing," Jesse eventually blurts.

I choke on a piece a cheese sticking to the back of my throat. I reach for my glass of water and drain half of it in a single gulp.

Winnie doesn't seem too fazed, however. She sighs and glances at me. "He did, did he?"

"Garrett says you ride like the wind," Jesse continues, his tone a little accusing and a lot exasperated.

The corner of Winnie's lips quirk. "Well, sure I do."

Have I ever mentioned how hot her confidence is? Like, if her siblings weren't right there, and also, if I wasn't trying to be a good friend…

Jesse nods thoughtfully. "I think I'd like to see it sometime."

Winnie's eyes soften, and she focuses on her brother. Something private passes between them, and I don't want to intrude or interrupt. Much.

She clears her throat and nods. "That can be arranged. After school, of course."

Jesse nods, picking up a slice of pizza and eating as if nothing's happened. I watch the siblings, chewing in silence, feeling like I've missed something. It's like they have their own version of sibling speak. A secret language.

I only eat two small pieces. I know what Winnie said about them having plenty to share, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm taking from them, and anyway, this entire day has been pretty unsettling. I'm not that hungry.

After they finish eating, I'm trying to figure out a way to make a graceful exit when Winnie turns to me. "I could use a walk. Wanna join?"

My eyes grow wide, but I keep them on her. "S-sure." I think I hear a snort coming from Jesse's vicinity, but I ignore it. A walk. Alone. Yes.

Unless. Oh, shit. Is this where she murders me for interfering in her life and inviting myself into her house, spilling her secrets to her siblings?

Well, Win, your ten-year-old sister insisted, so it's not like I had a choice but to insert myself into your private life…

Walker's ghost snickers in the back of my mind. I'm so happy to provide you with endless afterlife entertainment, I think.

Great list, by the way. Totally killing it.

I help the siblings clean up dinner and then move to the door. "I have a coat in my truck," I say. "Meet you out front?"

Winnie nods.

I wave to Garrett, and she walks up to me, throwing her arms around my chest. My breath leaves in a quiet oof, and I squeeze her back, tugging a braid before releasing her.

Jesse gives me a nod over the top of her head. He seems less pissed than when I first walked in, so that's something, I guess.

A minute later, I'm tugging on my coat, my breath hissing as the freezing material hits my skin after I'd left it in the back seat. The porch light flips on, bathing the night in a subtle glow, and Winnie walks out, her arms slipping into the sleeves of her barn coat.

"Thanks for bringing this," she says. "It's my only coat, so I would have had to steal from Jesse, and all his clothes smell like Axe body spray."

I huff a laugh. "Ah yes, I remember those days. Kerry used to ‘accidentally lose' mine whenever she cleaned my room."

Winnie's eyes widen. "She cleaned your room?"

I freeze. "Not always," I hedge. "But probably more than she should have. I was gone a lot."

"You're not one of those guys that doesn't know how to do your own laundry, are you?"

"No! I can do my laundry. Technically," I admit, thanking Christ I'd asked Kerry to show me how to run the washer and dryer a few weeks ago.

Winnie gestures to the left with a point of her chin, and we start down the road. She stuffs her hands in her overlarge pockets, and her head falls back as she looks at the sky. "It's so clear tonight."

I hum my agreement, and for a little while, we walk in the silence. It's darker than dark out here, but the inky night is interrupted occasionally with a porch light from neighboring homes. Some are trailers like Winnie's, and others are small single-level ranches. No one's outside. Springs in the panhandle aren't horrible, but it still gets dark and chilly early.

"I met your dad," I offer. "He seems nice enough."

Winnie shrugs. "Nice enough is about right."

"Did he give you a hard time about being late?"

She shakes her head. "He never gives me a hard time." Her lips curl in a humorless smile. "If he wanted to complain about me being late with his dinner, he would have to also acknowledge he could make dinner for himself before work."

She's silent a beat, then, in a low voice, she says, "We don't have a Kerry. We have a Winnie."

I swallow hard, my apology bubbling up and overflowing inside of me. "I'm so sorry, Winnie. You were right. I shouldn't have gone to my dad. I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to overstep."

Winnie shakes her head, not meeting my gaze. "It's okay. I've cooled down. I know you didn't mean anything by it. But you see why now, don't you?"

"Jesse told me about the guardianship thing."

Winnie doesn't look surprised, only resigned. "Yeah. That happened."

"Do you think you'll have to do it?" I can't even imagine. I can barely take care of myself, let alone be responsible for two other lives.

But I suppose Winnie's been responsible for two other lives for a long time.

She releases a breath into the night air, a misty cloud pouring from between her lips. "I don't know. Maybe not, if Jesse can get his shit together. I'm kind of banking on his indignant fourteen-year-old conscience to motivate him into staying in school."

"He said he was done skipping," I offer.

"It's been a week," she says blandly.

I make a face. "Well," I say. "Forward progress, I guess?"

"Forward progress," she agrees, releasing her hands from her pockets. Our arms swing between us. I resist the urge to make a grab for her hand.

Be a friend. Friends don't hold hands. Friends don't kiss.

I think back to Walker. Friends don't flinch.

I take a deep breath, psyching myself up to say something unflinching.

"I know what you're doing, and while I don't understand what it's like to be in your position, at all," I say, "I think you're wrong."

In the near silence, her breath catches, and she takes a step away from me. Immediately, I feel colder.

"Just—" I pause. "Please listen for a second. Hear me out."

I can tell listening to me is the very last thing she wants to do, but she's not running away, so I plow ahead. Please don't let me fuck this up. Again.

"You have to have faith in other people. You're not alone. Remember what I said? The entire world won't fall around your ears if you aren't holding it up. You have more reason than anyone I've ever met to distrust people. You've been let down a thousand times by people who should be the first to line up and support you. I get that. It's—God, Win—" My hands clench and open compulsively. "I wanted to punch your dad earlier when I met him."

She stops short, mouth gaping. "What?"

I cringe. "He's just… doesn't he realize how incredible you are? He walked out of his room, all ready to be taken care of. He didn't even blink over the fact a strange man was in his living room with his kids."

I raise a hand, stalling her. "I know what you're thinking. Real rich coming from the kid with a housekeeper cleaning his room. I'm… Listen, I'm realizing a lot of ugly things about myself these last few weeks, and I'm not sure how to reconcile that, but I am learning, and I want to think I'm going to do better. I don't want to be like him."

"Case," she starts gently. "You're not like him."

I pull a skeptical face. "On the surface, I kinda am."

Her eyes search between mine, her face open and her freckles glowing in the streetlight. "You're not, though. You took care of Walker when he was sick. You've done nothing but take care of me and even my sister these last few weeks. It's annoying how much I've had to rely on you, and you keep showing up. Hell, you saved Garrett's life! Even today, with your dad, I know that was you trying to take care of me. Misguided, sure, but still. I have no idea what I did to earn your efforts, but I'm grateful."

I nail her with a knowing look. "How can you even say that? I've made you cry like three times."

She snorts, nudging my shoulder and walking ahead. I follow. "Oh, please. Two times, tops, and I'm pretty sure the first was actually the school and Jesse. You were conveniently nearby."

"That's not going to change," I tell her. "Unflinching, remember? Let me help you. I want to help. I want to be your friend."

"You do?"

I throw back my head, exasperated. "Come on! I'm so desperate to be your friend, I'm beyond embarrassing at this point."

Her lips spread into a full smile. "As it happens, I could use a friend."

Relief floods through my bloodstream. "Thank God." I swipe at my forehead. "You, Winnie Sutton, are more intimidating than Ballbuster."

She barks out a loud laugh. "Who?"

"He's, like, the worst bull on the circuit. Total nut-crusher. Throws everyone in less than four. His real name is Inferno, but that's too high-brow for a fifteen-hundred-pound beast."

She's overcome with giggles. "Oh my gosh. I don't know whether to be flattered or mortified to be worse than Ballbuster."

"Flattered," I insist. "For sure. Walker would love this—watching me fumble around after you. He'd say I deserve it after giving him so much grief about Taylor."

Winnie calms down. "You know, he used to tell me about her. Did things ever work out with them before…"

I shake my head, catching her drift before exhaling. "Well, kind of. She died a few months before he did. They knew each other from their hospital stays over the years."

Winnie's expression falters. "Oh. Oh no."

"Yeah, it sucked. He did get to tell her how he felt, and she did, too. But the timing…"

Her breath rushes out in a sad sigh. "Jesus, that's the worst thing I've ever heard."

"Right," I agree grimly. "Except I like to imagine they're going at it like rabbits in heaven."

Winnie gasps, laughing, her watery eyes wide. "You like to imagine that, huh?"

I nudge her shoulder. "You know what I mean. Seems only fair."

She nods. "It does."

We turn back for her house, and I change the subject. "Don't hit me, but you know there are local rodeos, right? Like, you have to start there, anyway, and create a name for yourself. Not that I don't think you'll fly through the rankings, but you have some time before you have to tour. Season doesn't even kick off until early summer. We have months to whip you into shape and figure things out."

Winnie sighs.

"Forward movement," I remind her.

"I know," she says. "I'll consider it. That's as much as I can promise. It depends on Camilla and your dad and whether or not Jesse stays in school." She flashes a smirk in my direction. "You realize you said ‘we' right?"

"Yeah, well, I'm not out of it yet."

"Will you come no matter what? To watch or whatever?" She blinks up at me, her dark lashes fluttering, and my heart stutters in my chest. I swallow hard and nod, definitely not pointing out she's already asking me about coming to see her race when she just said she would only consider it.

Nope. Just gonna roll with this.

"You couldn't stop me. That's what friends do, right?"

"Right," she agrees, turning to walk again. "Friends."

Walker never wrote Fall for your friend on his list, but maybe this is like the situation with the corn silo. Maybe it's meant to be taken more in the spirit of things.

In which case, I have every intention of making Winnie Sutton my friend.