I’d come home because I needed to be here. It pissed me off that some big-city asshole would be trying to intimidate my mother. She was right in that my father would likely want to sell, which I supposed was why it was important for her that I come home. Not just to help work the ranch, but to prevent my father from selling the place that she loved.
It was strange how a home that held so many hurtful moments could be considered home for her or me. But standing on the porch, I did feel peace. I did feel like I was home. And now this Stark Company threatened that.
“I’ll take care of this.” I patted her shoulder to assure her. “I’m going to go for a ride.”
She smiled. “Can you still ride?”
I laughed. “Oh, I can ride, but I don’t doubt my ass will hurt tomorrow.” I shoved the letter in my pocket with a plan to shove it up Simon Stark’s ass when I went to visit him. I headed to the barn, saddled up a quarter-horse, and headed out into the fields.
I took in the fresh air, tilting my head up to feel the sun on my face. I’d thought coming home would be easier. Not perfect. But I saw it as a chance to fix old wrongs. To finally find the happiness I thought I was on the path to having.
Sinclair.
Good Christ how I loved her. I remembered talking about Sinclair with one of my superiors who had taken me under his wing when I first joined the Army. I’d started missing her before I left. I felt like shit for how I left. He’d told me that I was young. He acknowledged that while my feelings were real and strong, that over time, they’d wane. That lasting love would come later.
He was a great friend and mentor, but he was wrong about that. While my heart didn’t feel like there was a knife protruding from it anymore, it didn’t feel whole. Not like it had that summer when I’d given in to my feelings for her.
We’d started planning a future that summer. A part of me knew it wouldn’t come to pass. She was going to college. Chances were she’d meet smarter, more sophisticated men and forget about me. But for that summer, because I loved her, and I loved the idea of a life with her, I went along with it.
But I’d been right that it was a fantasy. That reality hit me square in the face the night my father hit my mother in front of me, and I stepped in to push back. My father was always a tank of a man. At eighteen, I wasn’t quite what I would be, but I was big enough to take him. It helped that I was sober, while he was sauced up pretty good.
When I had him pinned to the ground, his lip bleeding and his eye already showing signs of a shiner, he told me he was going to call the cops. One thing about my dad, he was the world’s biggest hypocrite considering the number of shiners my mother bore through the years. He was also a man of his word. I had no doubt he’d press charges.
Deciding I wasn’t going to go to jail, and that I’d had enough, I packed a bag and headed to Sinclair’s. She’d said she loved me. She wanted a life with me. She gave me her innocence. Armed with that, I climbed up an old tree outside her bedroom and softly rapped on the window.
Her smile was as bright as the sun when she saw me. “Wyatt. What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving. You can pack your things and we can run off together.”
“Where to?” She stared at me like she thought I’d been drinking. But I was stone-cold sober.
“Anywhere you want, baby. We can live that life we planned, but we have to do it somewhere else. I can’t stay in Salvation one minute more.”
Her soft hands cradled my face. “It sounds so romantic, but I can’t run away.”
I knew then, all was lost. I should have just clambered down the tree and made my escape. But like the fucking dummy I was, I pressed on.
“I thought you loved me. You said you wanted to be together.”
“I do, but I’m going to college in a couple of weeks-”
“You can do that anywhere.”
“Wyatt, I can’t.”
Even now, ten years later, the heartache of that moment lived in my chest. Hurt, pissed, and dejected, I left. Without a last word, I got into my car and drove out of Salvation… What a fucked up name that was… And to the nearest Army recruiting office.
I nudged my horse, moving from a walk to a gallop. I closed my eyes just for a moment to feel the freedom and power that riding brought. I’d missed this too.
Not as much as I missed Sinclair. I was dying to see her and at the same time, nervous about it too. I’d cut all ties… Her, Ryder, my mother…when I left. My mother understood and forgave me. Would Ryder and Sinclair do the same? Would I have a chance to rebuild on what we’d had?
As I turned toward the barn, my life was about as fucked up as it had been then. But my mentor was right. With age comes wisdom. I had skills to fight physically but also mentally, which meant I’d take on Simon Stark. Emotional strength? I guessed that would be tested when I saw Sinclair again.
2 Sinclair
I groaned in frustration as I read yet another letter from Simon Stark in his attempt to buy up property around Salvation. He’d been sending letters to farm owners on the south east side of the town for months now. His goal was to buy
