Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

" S o that's your man."

Vivian didn't reply. She twirled her straw, not drinking her soda, not doing much but thinking how good Dallas looked in his old, worn jeans, denim jacket, and boots. He'd tied his hair back, which made him look like a?—

"A sexy pirate."

"What?" she frowned at Jack.

"Your man. That's what he reminds me of." Jack grinned. "Did I ever tell you it was a pirate who made me realize I was gay? I was about ten or so, and my mother had one of those old romance novels kicking about." He leaned forward and whispered. "You know, bodice rippers."

"I don't think they call them that anymore."

"Doesn't matter what they call them, the covers were provocative. The book I found under my mother's mattress?—"

"You snooped under your mother's mattress?"

Jack chuckled. "I was looking for cash, but found treasure instead."

"Treasure, huh?"

"To me, it was like finding a red ruby. The book had this handsome man on the cover. He became quite famous if I've got may facts straight. His name was Follio or Franco or something like that. He was beautiful, with a mane of hair that begged to be tugged, a chest that was perfect, and his clothes…all those silks and patterns and colors. I was done for before I realized it."

"Fabio."

Jack leaned back. "What?"

"The model for those books. His name is Fabio."

"Sugar, his name could have been Febreze and I wouldn't have cared."

Vivian tried to muster a smile but had nothing. She was sad. No way around it. Dallas had disappeared into the kitchen ten minutes earlier, and it was obvious he'd left the back way.

He wanted nothing to do with Vivian.

Jack reached across the table, grabbed her hands, and squeezed gently. "Everything will work its way out. You have to have faith."

"Faith," she muttered, thinking of dark things that had destroyed any kind of faith she'd possessed years ago. She pushed her soda away and looked across the table at her friend. Maybe her only friend.

"Do you believe?" she asked, watching Jack closely. "In something more than what we see?"

"You mean God?"

She nodded.

A small frown marred Jack's brow as he set down his coffee mug. "I believe in goodness. I believe in acceptance and tolerance and love. I believe some folks use science to debunk religion, and others do the opposite. I don't know which one is right, so I tend to be of the opinion that they both have value and a place in our world. Science and faith. Do I believe in an actual God? Some physical being who sits on a throne in the heavens?" He shrugged. "I think God can be a lot of things. I think he can be hope. I think he exists in the kindness of strangers. I think you can hear God in a baby's cry or see him in the eyes of someone you love." He reached for his mug. "Mostly, I think God can be forgiveness, and that might be the most important thing of all. Without forgiveness, we're all just stuck, aren't we?"

Vivian dropped her gaze.

"You need to forgive yourself, Vivian." Jack's voice wasn't so gentle anymore. "Or else you'll end up alone for the rest of your life, and that would be an absolute shame. Of all the people I've met in my fifty-six years of living, you have the biggest capacity for love. The most space in your heart to fill. The most love to give."

"Really," she scoffed, meeting his gaze. "I know a lot of folks who would disagree."

Jack sat back and shrugged. "So let them."

T he foreman's cabin was the one building on the ranch Vivian had never been inside. Before Dallas, the foreman had been a formidable man, Jenkins, who'd never smiled, never spoken a word to any of the Bridgestone kids, and he sure as hell had never invited any of them to his home.

She was walking in blind and hadn't had any expectations, so Vivian was pleasantly surprised the night before when she and Jack finally made it back to the ranch. The log cabin was larger than it appeared, with an open living space on the main floor as well as a bedroom that could be used as an office, and a bathroom complete with a modern standing shower and an antique clawfoot tub that was deep and wide. The attic was spacious, with a high ceiling and enough room for a king-size bed, as well as a seating area that included a sofa, desk, and some shelving that was currently empty.

The decor was homey, the furniture sturdy and old, though the kitchen appliances were newer. There wasn't an overabundance of windows, but enough natural light fell that it didn't appear too dark.

Jack found it quaint, while she loved pretty much everything about it.

Her brother had had the place thoroughly cleaned while she'd been in Alaska, and both beds had new bedding. The cupboards were filled with new dishes and dry goods, while Benton had also stocked the fridge. He'd added two framed pictures on the wall that featured painted artwork by none other than her niece, Nora.

She smiled at the thought. Nora had been her first official visitor this morning when she'd arrived like a tornado, with Lily in her arms. She was a breath of fresh air and uninhibited in her affection for folks. Even for her Auntie Viv.

I wish I could be like her. Free. Open. Easy.

And maybe Vivian was once, but it was so long ago, she didn't remember.

"What do you think?"

Viv was in the kitchen and turned as Jack sauntered in. A man who wore expensive tailored suits on the daily, or cashmere sweaters with pressed linen pants for a casual look, he'd certainly gone full tilt when it came to the cowboy way of dressing.

"Too much?" He turned in a full circle, and she laughed.

"Not in your world."

Vivian crossed the room and tweaked the collar of his blue-and-red plaid shirt. She glanced at the label and shook her head. Burberry. Definitely not cowboy pricing. His boots were Italian leather, and his shirt was tucked into a pair of jeans held up by the largest belt buckle she'd ever seen.

"Where'd you get that?" she asked, pointing at the shiny metal.

"I ordered it online, of course." Jack looked so damn proud of himself that she didn't have the heart to tell him most of the men she knew didn't bother with cowboy hats or belt buckles unless they were rodeoing.

"Are you ready?" she asked. It was nearly six o'clock, and the party had started a few hours ago.

"I am now." Jack placed a large tan cowboy hat on his head and smiled.

"Okay. Let me grab some gloss, and we'll walk down."

She ran to the bathroom and rummaged through her makeup bag until she found her favorite sheer gloss, then applied a generous amount before stepping back for a critical look. Her hair was loose and her makeup subtle, though she'd taken the time to add a smoky shadow that made her blue eyes pop. Her dress, a vibrant red with a pattern of small white daisies, clung to her breasts and then draped down over her hips before flaring softly about an inch or so above her ankles. She'd pulled on a pair of old cowboy boots that still fit like a charm.

It was an ultra-feminine look, and she liked what she saw.

Vivian grabbed a creamy eyelet sweater from the counter, slipped it over her shoulders, and headed back into the main room.

Jack kissed her cheek. "You look as lovely as ever." He offered his arm, and they walked out into the cool November air. The sounds of a party well underway echoed into the quiet: country music, raised voices, and laughter.

By the time they reached the barn, Vivian's nerves were threatening to make a scene, and she slowly exhaled as they approached the door.

"You'll be fine," Jack whispered, coming to a stop.

Vivian attempted a smile, but wasn't so sure it was successful. "This place is full of people I share blood with and those I've grown up with. I've known most of them my entire life, and yet I've never felt like I was a part of them. I've always been the outsider." She paused for a few moments, chest tight with anxiety. "My dad is probably in there, and I haven't spoken to him since the night I ran away." She looked at Jack. "When I was seventeen and scared and hurt and pregnant."

She thought of that night, and her voice dropped. "He came crashing into my room, a black tornado of anger and rage. He'd found my pregnancy test. My fault, really. I'd left it on the counter before crying myself to sleep." Hot tears sprang up. "He pulled me out of bed. I can still picture his face. He looked like a monster. He called me a whore and demanded I tell him who the father was. I couldn't because he would have killed Dallas. Instead, I told Manley he was a no-good drunk. He slapped me so hard, I couldn't see, and then he said I didn't have a home anymore. Not with him. Said I'd dishonored our mother and her beliefs."

She hadn't shared these details before. Vivian struggled to catch her breath. "As much as the slap and his awful words hurt, telling me I'd disappointed my mother was the worst of all. I packed up my shit and left that night."

She listened to her words as if she were standing a few feet away, and panic unfurled in her gut, spreading heat and fear along with it.

"I don't think I can do this," she whispered fiercely. "I don't belong here. I don't know if I ever did."

Jack's warm hand cupped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "It's not a question of if you belong or if you can do this." His eyes gentled. "It's more that you have to. For yourself. In order to move on and live." He dropped his hand and smiled. "If your family deserves your forgiveness, you need to give it to them." He stepped back and held out his hand. "If you want to be free of your past, my girl, you need to make it happen. It starts here." He winked. "And I've got your back."

Overwhelmed with emotion, she took a moment. "I love you, Jack."

"I know." He pointed toward the barn. "Now take me to this hoedown. I want to meet your family and, who knows, maybe find me a nice cowboy."

The two of them walked inside, and she immediately heard Nora squeal. "Auntie Viv's here."

The little powerhouse ran over to them, hair flying all over the place as she skidded to a stop, eyes wide as she took in Jack.

"Who are you?" she asked, frowning. Then her gaze dropped. "Where'd you get that?" She pointed to the belt buckle. "That's the biggest thing I ever saw."

"I'm Jack. A friend of your aunt's."

The little girl's face lit up. "Do you want to meet my friends Cam and Ryan?" She pulled at his hand and the man had no choice. He took Nora's hand and gave Vivian a wave.

She watched as the two headed toward a bunch of tables, where she spied her sister Scarlett and her husband, Taz. Her sister-in-law Millie Sue sat with them, laughing at something Scarlett was saying. Millie's newborn wasn't in sight, but Viv supposed it was a little loud for him.

The barn was full, and she tried her best to scan the room without looking too obvious. There were a lot of folks besides her family here. Most of them she knew. Neighbors. Friends from town. A host of employees, probably seventy-five at least. The core group, about twenty-five or so, included cowboys, some like Dallas, whose families and the Bridgestones went back generations. Others had new roles, things that had changed with the onset of modern ranching. The Triple B now had solar power and windmills and a dedicated manager to make sure it all worked.

But still, the heart of ranching was simple. It was Angus beef and horses. It was making sure there was enough feed and water in spite of the weather.

Dallas Henhawk had a hand in all of it, but apparently, he wasn't in the mood to celebrate. He was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, glad you made it out." Benton handed her a red Solo cup.

"What's this?"

"Whiskey. You look like you need a shot."

Vivian tipped the cup back and downed the liquid, liking the burn as it made its way down her throat.

"Is he here?" she asked, surprised the words had found their way out. Normally, she was a sit-back-and-observe kind of gal.

"Dad's not feeling well. He decided to sit this one out."

She turned and frowned. "Oh I…"

Benton's eyes narrowed. "You're not asking about Dad."

She didn't reply, because she was pissed at herself for opening up like that.

"He's not here either." Benton poured a generous helping of whiskey into her cup, and she tossed it back with equal enthusiasm. She handed him the empty cup.

"That's enough for me." She stepped away from her brother, suddenly restless. Everything was loud. The music. The people. Her heart and head. She felt like a string pulled too tight and didn't like it.

"Viv."

She yanked her head back. "What?"

"I hope you're happy being back here."

She tried to smile. "I don't know if I can ever be happy. I don't know that it's in me."

Benton held her gaze, his expression unreadable. "You were happy once."

"We all were." She shrugged.

"I'm not talking about us as a family. I'm talking about you. About a time when you were happy because you had someone that cared."

And I threw it all away.

The thought crept in, sneaky-like, and hit like a pointed arrow. She'd ruined everything.

For a few seconds, she stared across the room at Jack, who was seated with her brothers, Cal and Ryland. Millie Sue, Scarlett, and Nora were also at the table, all of them listening to some crazy story her friend was no doubt telling. Jack was, if anything, an entertainer.

This barn was full of people, and yet the one person she wanted to see wasn't there.

"Is he at his place?" she asked quietly.

Benton slowly nodded. "I expect so." He paused, his expression thoughtful. "The keys are in my truck."

"Why would I…what do you mean?" Dumb question, because she knew exactly what he meant. She stared down at the floor. Was she going to do this? Did she have enough nerve? Vivian took a step back. "Keep an eye on Jack."

It seemed that she did.

"I'll try, but he seems to be doing a good job on his own."

"He needs to let out Lily."

"I'll make sure he knows."

"Benton, I…" God, why couldn't she say what was in her heart?

"I know." He nodded toward the exit. "Go."

She turned and headed out into the dark. Vivian was taking a chance on something she wasn't sure existed anymore. In fact, based on the last few times she'd seen Dallas, whatever they had was long dead. At least for him.

But what if she was wrong? What if there was still something there? What would that mean? Where would that lead?

What would it feel like?

It was those thoughts that scared the ever-loving crap out of her, and it was a miracle that she did, in fact, get behind the wheel of her brother's truck.

She revved the engine, said a small prayer to a God she wasn't sure she believed in, and, before she could change her mind, headed toward the mountain.