Chapter Ten

You can feel some people’s presences before you even lay eyes on them. Some of those presences are peaceful and put you at ease. Like Jesse’s. And some make you every shade of uncomfortable and disarm you. Like Garth’s.

The trouble with me, or one of the troubles with me, was that my what-was-good-for-me compass was seriously screwed up. I’d always known that to a certain extent, but only after coming to Willow Springs did I really notice it in a big way. I didn’t know what I wanted to do about it, if anything, but I was acknowledging it in a way I hadn’t before.

A dark, few-noted chuckle sounded from behind me.

Speaking of presences . . .

“What are you doing still lurking around?” I said, spinning around. “All the guys left a few minutes ago.” I hadn’t stopped staring at the spot I’d last seen Jesse and Sunny until the man in black interfered.

Garth smiled that dark one of his that would have made me shiver had it been any cooler out. “I’m good at . . . lurking,” he said in that deep, thick voice. “And yeah, the guys did leave a few minutes ago. One guy left even a few minutes before that.” Garth walked toward me, his horse following him. His horse had a dark mane and tail. Like owner, like horse. “But that sure hasn’t stopped you from staring at that same spot like you’re hoping if you look long enough, Jesse f**king Walker will magically reappear.”

My whole body tensed. I hadn’t heard such a harsh word delivered in such a spiteful tone in so long that it caught me off guard.

“Where did you come from?” I asked, shoving the cooler farther into the truck bed. The sooner I got into the cab, the sooner I could get away from Garth Black. I still hadn’t forgotten what he’d said to me at the rodeo or how he’d said the words with such cruelty. “I didn’t see you earlier. Do you just decide to show up for work whenever the hell you please?”

I heard him and his horse move closer. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t shy away. I knew guys like Garth, people like him. They got off on knowing they intimidated others. I wouldn’t give him that pleasure.

“I was here. I’ve been here all goddamned day, rounding up dumb cows and riding alongside dumber cowboys.” I slammed the tailgate closed, and when I turned around, I found Garth not even two feet from me. I came close to squirming, so I crossed my arms and stood my ground. “But I guess it’s no big surprise you didn’t notice anyone else just now. Because you, my infatuated little girl,”—I bristled at the little part. He didn’t mean my height.—“had eyes for no one but that golden boy atop his golden steed. Riding off to his golden tower and his golden family.”

I rolled my eyes. “And your point to this whole ‘golden’ story?”

Garth’s mouth lifted on one side. “Only that there’s no place for you in it.”

My eyebrows came together. Was there no limit to Garth’s cruelty?

“People like you, my tainted, deliciously flawed Rowen, are not and never will be anything close to golden.”

Nope. There was no limit. The air rushed out of my lungs like he’d just punched me in the stomach. I knew if I stood in front of Garth any longer, he’d see how deep he’d cut me, so I shoved by him and marched for the driver’s side door. My as-close-to-perfect-as-I’d-ever-experienced-afternoon had just been shattered by a few cutting words from a sharp-tongued guy. “If that’s all you’ve got for me, I’m going to be on my very not-so-golden way,” I snapped back.

“I didn’t mean that as an insult, Rowen. I meant that as a compliment.” Garth leaned into the side of the truck and ran his eyes down me before doing the same to himself. “From one very un-golden person to another, we will never be known as the ones to take the easy path. We will never be known as the ones to wag our tails and play fetch because that’s what the world expects of us. You and me, Rowen,”—he flicked his finger between us—“we’re a dying breed.”

I wanted to spit nails right through that smug expression of his. He didn’t know me any more than I wanted to get to know him. “No, Garth. You’re a dying breed. And that’s only because when you say shit like that to people, they start plotting a way to kill you.”

Garth laughed as I fought to get the door open. “What do you think Mr. and Mrs. Walker are going to say when you and Jesse tell them you two have become a hot little item?”

Garth waited for me to respond. I had nothing to say because I didn’t know. What would they say? I couldn’t be sure. They were good people, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have my doubts they might squirm in their accepting seats when they found out about Jesse and me.

“You think they’re just going to smile and give you their blessing when they find out their precious son is dating the ranch freak?”

There was that word again. I’d heard it hundreds of times, and it had rolled off my back for the most part, but there on Willow Springs Ranch, where all my defense layers melted away, it sliced me in such a way I knew would leave a permanent scar.

“You think they’re going to one day let him give you his great-grandmother’s ring? A girl who’s no doubt been in the back seat of so many cars The Guinness Book of World Records is leaving her messages?”

My fists balled. My eyes welled. I was angry. I was sad. I couldn’t decide what I was more of, so I just stood there, silent and motionless.

“In case you never read the fairy tales when you were a little girl, here’s a quick recap,” he continued on. “The prince rides off into the sunset with the princess. Not the witch. In fact, the witch usually dies at the hands of the prince. In case you’re wondering who you are in the fairy tale,” Garth tilted his head and slid his thumbs under his belt buckle, “you’re as much the princess as I am the prince.”

My anger responded. “You’re an a**hole, Black,” I snapped, glaring daggers at him.

He lifted a shoulder. “I am an a**hole. But at least I’ve accepted that about myself. I used to hate knowing I’d never end up with the princess. But now I’ve accepted it.” His eyes went darker. “Once you accept who you are, Rowen, the pain will stop. I can guarantee that. Once you accept the Jesse Walkers of the world weren’t meant for you, you’ll be free.” Why was I just standing there, letting him say those things to me? Why wasn’t I arguing with him? “They pity us, when really, we should be pitying them. They live in a state of disillusionment. They live the lie, and what’s worse, they don’t want to find the truth when they realize they’ve been living a lie.” A corner of his mouth curled into a menacing smile. “They’re sheep, Rowen.”

My silence finally came to an end. “What? And we’re the shepherds?”

“No,” Garth’s smile twisted higher, “we’re the wolves.”

The hot summer day didn’t matter—a chill ran down my back.

Jumping inside the truck, I fumbled to get the key into the ignition. “You know, Garth, just because your life sucks doesn’t mean you have to take it out on everyone else.”

“And just because your life sucks doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take it out on everyone else,” he replied back in a cool voice. Maybe he had more to add, maybe he didn’t, but the instant the engine fired to life, I slammed the door and hit the gas. I needed to leave Garth Black in the rearview.

By the time I pulled back into the driveway outside of the Walkers’ house, I’d managed to calm myself down. At least half a notch. Garth had gotten under my skin. I wasn’t sure what was more disturbing: that he’d gotten under it or that he’d known just what to say to get there. He’d somehow seen through my walls and knew my insecurities. He’d known just what to say to play upon my weaknesses. He knew that the core of my doubts when it came to Jesse and me was that I didn’t deserve him. That I was the lack to his luster. That I was the coal to his diamond. That I was the nothing special to his everything special.

So I didn’t deserve Jesse. That wasn’t exactly a revelation. The revelation was in the light bulb going off that I never would. No matter what I did in the future, nothing could erase my past. Nothing could wash away the filth and dirt of my life before him. It was, to date, the most depressing thought I’d had.

For a girl who used to eat depression for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, that was saying something.

Rose waved at me from her flower garden while I sat in Jesse’s truck contemplating what was next. What would tomorrow bring? Could I continue with Jesse for a while longer? How much longer? The end of the month? The end of the summer? How long could I keep the truth buried? How long before he woke up and saw it?

Those were crippling questions. Every last one of them. Questions I didn’t want to think about and, what was more, questions I didn’t want to have.

When I kept sitting in the car, Rose wove her way out of her flowers, closed the cyclone fence to keep all the wild animals from munching away on her garden, and headed my way.

Rose was just as perceptive as Jesse, and right then, I didn’t want to be around anyone perceptive. I didn’t want to give anyone a peek into my world.

So I rolled my shoulders back, wiped my expression clean, and shoved the door open.

“Did you find the guys okay?” Rose asked as she stopped outside the truck. She had her red hat on and carried a basket of bright, large-blossomed flowers. From where I stood, each one looked perfect. Everything around there, even the flowers, was on a perfect level I could only dream of.

I had to roll my shoulders back again. “The cooler’s empty,” I said, hitching my thumb over my shoulder. “So either I found the guys or ran into a pack of hungry bears.”

Rose smiled. “Around these parts, they’re one and the same, sweetie.”

I swung around to the truck bed to pull the cooler out. Rose set down her basket of flowers and came over to help.

“Josie Gibson stopped by while you were gone.” Rose grabbed hold of a handle on the cooler once I’d dropped the tailgate.

“Josie Gibson?” I said. “As in . . .” How did I put it? The drop-dead girl I’d love to hate but couldn’t? The girl with a heart as big as the monster truck she drove? The Mother Teresa who gave me a ride home and practically begged me to hang out with her sometime? Or the girl who was—

“Jesse’s ex-girlfriend?” Rose filled in.

Yep. That was the one.

I nodded once. “I met her at the rodeo but didn’t catch her last name.”

“That’s the one. And she’s a Gibson all right,” Rose said as we carried the cooler up onto the back porch and settled it against the wall. “Those Gibsons have lived around these parts for so long, I’m not sure which came first—the Gibsons or Montana’s statehood.” She dropped into one of the porch swings, chuckling to herself. “When Jesse and her started getting pretty serious, I began to worry if they ever got married, she’d make him take her name instead of the other way around.”