PROLOGUE
Drew
The smell of smoke filtered into my nostrils and I opened my eyes a second later, the realization that I couldn’t see anything hitting me hard.
What the hell?
The crackling sound of the flames burning through the wood had filled my ears, and violent screams of my grandpop and grandma quickly followed. Jumping from my bed, I ran up the stairs to the basement door to try to open it. Heat seared through my fingers as I gripped the iron door handle.
An orange glow beamed through the crack beneath the door, tellin’ me the fire was already engulfing the house. I didn’t have much time.
Pushing the panic down, I ran over to my closet and grabbed a baseball bat, and then hopped onto my bed to bust out the window just above it so that I could escape. I swung the bat once and the end shattered the glass into a million tiny pieces.
On shaky legs, I climbed through the broken glass in the window, feeling the shards as they cut into my arms and stomach. Each slice was a reminder that I was still alive and that I needed to get movin’ to save grandma and grandpop.
“Get up!” a voice hollered. My body ached, and there was a pounding behind my eyes. I felt as if I had drunk an entire bottle of whiskey, even though I hadn’t touched an ounce of alcohol. I groaned, rolling over and pushing myself up from the hay mound. The nightmares were still plaguing me.
“I…. I’m sorry.” I popped an eye open, the bright sun overhead burnin’ through my retinas.
“You've gotta stop doin’ this, Drew,” Collin’s scolded. This was the third time I’d been caught in his barn, and I’d have felt bad had it not been so cold last night.
“I’m sorry, sir. I promise it won’t happen again.” I was so fed up with this life, ever since the… I couldn’t even finish the thought. There was no point in thinkin’ about shit I couldn’t change. I stood up and dusted off the small pieces of hay from my clothes before slipping my feet into my boots.
“You lookin’ for work, boy? I know of somethin’ for ya that’d keep ya outta trouble.” Collin’s pulled out his old flip phone from the front pocket of his T-shirt. I nodded yes. I wasn’t gonna beg for a place to stay, but I also wasn’t gonna object to nothin’ either.
“It’ll just take a quick call.” He punched in the numbers on his phone and after a brief moment, he said hello to whoever was on the other end.
“You still lookin’ for help, sir?” There was a short pause. “Okay, ‘cause I got a young man here, the late Weston’s grand boy. He could help ya out…” His voice trailed off into a whisper, and that was when I assumed he was talkin’ about findin’ me sleepin’ in his barn. I wasn’t proud of it by any means, but it wasn’t as if I’d done any harm.
Mr. Collin’s shut his phone and placed it back into the pocket of his T-shirt.
“You got anything other than your boots for transportation?” He eyed me up and down with a look of concern.
“Yes, sir. I gotta truck, but I ran out of gas. It’s parked up the hill.” I hung my head low, not wantin’ any sympathy or handouts, and it pained me to think that I actually needed help. I’d been a hard worker my whole life, striving for good grades and helpin’ my grandparents whenever I could. Mr. Collin’s walked over to a cabinet under his workbench and grabbed an old gas can before he walked back over and extended his arm out, offering it to me.
“It's just about full. Should be enough to get you to the Houzner’s farm.”
The Houzners…
I tried to think of who it was that I knew by that last name but nothin’ rang a bell. Then again, I was all out of sorts bein’ homeless now, so it surprised me most days if I remembered when I ate last.
“Thank you, sir. Anything you need me to do ‘round here before I leave, to pay for the gas?” I offered politely, willin’ to do whatever I could to give back to him for his kindness.
“You can take the trash can that's sittin’ next to the house to the end of the drive on your way up there.” Mr. Collin's grabbed a toothpick from his pocket and slid it into his mouth.
“Thank you, sir.” I reached for the gas can with one hand and shook his hand with the other.
“Stay outta trouble, boy, and don’t you dare worry about bein’ caught in the barn sleepin’. We all go through rough patches in life. It’s about movin’ on from ‘em and gettin’ through the tough stuff.” He shook my hand firmly and gave me a soft smile. I didn’t deserve his kindness, but I wasn’t gonna be anythin’ but kind to those who gave back to me.
“Yes, sir.” I grabbed my Stetson hat off a hay bale and placed it on top of my head before walking out of the barn.
After taking the trash to the end of the drive, I walked a ways down the road and up a hill to where my truck had stalled. I emptied the gas can into my tank, hopped in the truck, and started it. It roared to life, causin’ a smile to pull at my lips. Thank God for good people.
Now, all I’d had to do was make a good impression on Mr. Houzner and everythin’ would be just fine. Putting the truck into drive, I made my way down the road and in the direction of the Houzner’s farm.
I might not be able to outrun the nightmares that plagued me, but I had to make a life for myself, and I wasn’t gonna beg or plead for anythin’.
***
I pulled down the long driveway, tires crunchin’ over the gravel, my palms sweatin’ as I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles grew white. My heart was poundin’ in my ears as I rounded the corner, the large white farmhouse comin’ into full view.
A sign that said Houzner and Family Farm hung from a gate off to the right.
Family? I dug through my memories tryin’ to recollect if there had been a Houzner back in high school with me. Houzner. I repeated the name over and over in my head, knowin’ it sounded familiar, but I just couldn’t place my finger on why.
The driveway came to an end next to the house, and I parked the truck right alongside an orange Allis Chalmers. I sucked in a deep calming breath to gather my wits before gettin’ out of the truck. I needed this job, dammit.
As I tried to calm my nerves, my eyes honed in on a brown-haired, bronze beauty in a flowy sundress and cowboy boots carryin’ a thick textbook by her side.
I’d remember a beauty like that, wouldn’t I?
My cock jumped at the thought of her sassy mouth tellin’ me off like she most definitely would. She reminded me of a firecracker: the second somebody’d light her up, she’d go off, not givin’ a damn about who or what stood in her way. I could tell just by eyin’ her up and down that she was a little pistol and needed to be handled by a man who knew how to work a loaded gun.