“He wouldn’t have.” Kade’s voice is forceful, conviction ringing through every syllable. I envy him his unwavering belief that family will always offer support and understanding, no matter what. Must be nice to never doubt that.
“You’re lucky you don’t understand. You never had to realize you can’t always count on the people you’re supposed to. Lizzie and Wayne were here for you when you needed them most after...” My eyes widen when I realize what I said, not knowing how he’ll react that I know about his parents when he hasn’t told me yet.
“I see you know about that.”
“Yeah, Dad told me when I first showed up. Explains why you hated me so much from the get-go. Thinking I was as reckless as the person who took your parents from you.”
He drops his forehead on mine and closes his eyes. “I was going to tell you.”
“I know.” I place both my hands on his chest in the hopes to lend him some comfort. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
He leans back to look into my eyes, emotions I can’t decipher swirling in the depths of his blue-gray irises. “It’s okay. I had plenty of help dealing with it.”
“Aww,” Lauren coos, dragging me out of the little bubble Kade surrounded me with, and I stiffen, realizing we aren’t alone. I’ve never been one to be comfortable with public displays of affection. You see your mother be flirty and sexually aggressive in front of you when you’re eleven, and you’re suddenly extremely aware of how that looks. It’s not a pretty sight.
“Aren’t y’all just the cutest!” she continues, increasing my sudden distress at feeling put on display like this. “I knew you’d be perfect for one another. I’m guessing he rose to the challenge.”
She winks at me at the last statement, causing me to groan and bury my face in Kade’s chest, hoping a sink hole will open right underneath me and swallow me so I don’t have to deal with the mortification of this situation. It’s bad enough everyone knows we slept together; we don’t need to discuss it too.
“Jesus, Lauren. Seriously?” Kade grumbles, clearly of the same opinion.
“What?”
I still have my face buried in Kade’s chest so I don’t know what’s going on nonverbally, but I can feel Kade take a deep breath like he needs to calm himself. “One day I’ll pay you back for all of this.”
“That’ll never happen.”
“We’ll see.”
At someone’s sudden clap, I lift my head and look around the room. Everyone is still watching Kade and me with smiles on their faces, so I step back, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. I don’t get far as one of his arms wraps around my shoulders and pulls me back into him.
“Let’s eat,” Lizzie says excitedly, thankfully taking the spotlight off of me and Kade. “I’ve made meatloaf. And peach cobbler for dessert.”
My stomach growls just in time to alert everyone how hungry I am. “Sounds delicious.” I realize for the first time that it’s already late afternoon. No wonder I’m starving, the few bites of pancakes I had this morning clearly weren’t enough to sustain me until this evening.
The scene around me is eerily familiar, except this time I feel like I’m part of something instead of watching from the outside.
For the first time all day, I relax and enjoy dinner with people who don’t dislike me for my past—at least not anymore. The awkwardness caused by all the lies and secrets seems to have vanished. The conversation flows without acrimony or underlying reproach, unlike before. For the first time since I arrived in Montana, I laugh freely and without wondering if the joke is at my expense.
I feel unencumbered to be myself. Something I’ve never been able to achieve unless I’m with Whisky, Dakota, or Bob.
Many people take the ability to be themselves, or whoever they want to be, for granted. But I’ve never been able to be me, the girl who’s obsessed with murder and serial killers, loves to dance to the Spice Girls, and has crippling anxiety every time she’s surrounded by her mother’s so-called friends.
But sitting in this rustic kitchen, eating meatloaf and mashed potatoes while listening to Kade and Dad discuss the details of calving season, and other gross stuff I’d rather not dwell on while eating, has a weird calming effect on me.
I feel myself relax, my back and neck muscles popping with the release of tension. Something my physical therapist will be happy about.
Once we’re done with dessert, I lean back into my chair and smile at the picture before me. I watch the easy banter between the four of them. I have no idea who they’re talking about or what happened to this person’s livestock, but the animated way they communicate makes me feel at home.
Home.
A feeling I didn’t think I’d ever be able to experience again unless I was riding Whisky.
Home has been an elusive concept since I was ten years old. And I’m not sure I know how to cope with finally finding it again. Even if it’s in the most obvious of places.
“What do you think, Montana?” Hearing my name snaps me out of my thoughts and I look at Lizzie.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“We were saying how we think you should stay here for a while, even after Whisky recovers,” Dad chimes in. “Going back to Seattle, well, I
