Downpour: Chapter 14

It was official. I hated Saturdays. Granted, I hated most things these days, but especially Saturdays.

Brooke had left last night to spend the weekend at her house, and I wouldn’t see her again until Monday. After spending every waking moment with her and every slumbering moment dreaming about her, it was weird for her to be gone.

The house was too quiet. I kept aimlessly wheeling around every few minutes, as if something would have changed between noon and 12:30.

It didn’t.

I had tied thousands of knots. I had watered the plant. I had unloaded the three dishes that cycled between the cabinet and dishwasher. I did my physical therapy homework and took a few steps here and there. The hardware store in town made the delivery I asked for.

But, eventually, there was nothing left for me to do.

Now I was the one going stir crazy.

I never felt like that when she was here. Sure, I’d get tired of being around another person and retire to my room for a little space, but it wasn’t because I was bothered by her. I was just used to being alone. Or at least I thought I was.

I looked at the text I had typed out but hadn’t sent.

It wasn’t fair for me to bother Brooke on her day off. She probably wanted the time away. I wasn’t particularly exciting to hang out with.

It made me wonder if she had a boyfriend she was spending the weekend with. That thought made me want to put my fist through a wall, but split knuckles were the last thing I wanted to explain to my therapy team.

Saturday came and went, and Sunday dawned its miserable sunny self. I texted Cassandra to see if Christian was busy with the girls. I knew if I asked him for help directly, he’d drop everything and be down here in the blink of an eye. But weekends were sacred to him and his daughters. I didn’t want to fuck that up.

My phone buzzed, and I picked it up expecting to see Cassandra’s reply.

But it was Brooke.

BROOKE Hey, I’m sorry to bother you on your day away from me.

My stomach churned. Was that what she thought? That I wanted her gone on the weekends?

Maybe at the beginning I did, but now I just missed her.

RAY Not a bother.

BROOKE Can I come back tonight? I promise I’ll ignore you until tomorrow.

RAY I don’t mind.

A three-word response was the best I could do when I wanted to tell her that this was the first and only weekend I wanted her away.

Cassandra texted me back and said that she and Christian were cleaning their house, and that she’d send him out my way. I only needed him and his truck for a few minutes anyway.

When I heard the rumble of a diesel engine coming down my driveway, I wheeled out onto the front porch and pointed for him to pull around back. I headed back through the house and rolled down the ramp off the deck.

Pushing a wheelchair through grass was a bitch, but I didn’t mind the burn in my arms and shoulders.

“Hey,” Christian said as he slid out of the cab of his truck. “You okay?”

“Fine. Just need a hand, real quick.”

“What’s up?”

I had already tied the rope tightly around the tire, looping it over and securing it with a stack of stopper knots.

Drilling holes in the bottom of the tire had been a challenge. Getting the bit inserted was fine, but gripping the handle while it vibrated as I drilled through the rubber was more difficult than I thought it would be. But I managed to drill out enough spots for rain to drain through the tire.

“Can you back your truck up under that tree?” I pointed to the big one by the pond that Brooke liked. “I wanna hang a tire swing.”

Christian lifted an eyebrow, but got back in his truck and did a neat three-point turn in my yard until the bed was situated under a heavy branch that stretched out over the grass toward the water.

While Christian hopped out of the truck and walked around to the tailgate, I locked my chair, bent over, and picked up the tire.

“Let me get that for you,” Christian said.

“Don’t worry about it,” I grunted as I heaved it over my head and into the bed of his truck.

It landed with an echoing clunk. The long rope hung over the edge of the truck bed and coiled on the ground. I grabbed the bulk of it off the grass and threw it in after the tire.

“Damn,” Christian said as he worked through the length of the rope to find the end that needed to go over the branch. “That’s impressive.”

I didn’t respond because what was I supposed to say?

“So, you wanna tell me why you want a tire swing in your yard?” he asked as he pitched the end of the rope into the air. It missed the branch and slapped the metal truck bed.

I watched as he picked it up to try again. “Figured the girls could come down and use it if they wanted to.” It was half of the truth.

Well, maybe a quarter of the truth.

Christian paused. “You mean that?”

I shrugged. “I guess Bree might be a little old for it.”

Christian’s brow furrowed. “No. She’ll love it. I’ll see if I can convince her to come down here and check it out.”

“What do you mean?”

Christian threw the end of the rope at the branch, but missed again. “She’s hurt, man. I kept them from seeing you when you were in the ICU. They lost their mom, and I didn’t know what seeing you intubated would do to them. They wanted to see you when you woke up after the accident, but you wouldn’t let them,” he said, sighing and picking up the rope. “You moved back to the ranch and refused to see them for a year while you were up at the main house. Then you had this place built, and you still wouldn’t let them see you. Then you just showed up at family dinner unannounced. They’re hurt. They feel like you don’t love them anymore, and they need time to work through that.”

I scrubbed my hands down my face. “That’s… That’s not it.”

“You know that, and I know that,” he said, hitting me with a sharp look. “They don’t know that, no matter how much I tell them you just need time.”

I sighed. “I’ll work on it.”

He threw the rope again. The third time was the charm as it made it over the branch and slid down.

I grabbed the end of the rope and pulled until the tire lifted off the ground. “Hold it there,” I said when I got it to the right height.

Christian held the tire, taking the weight off the rope so I could get the knot tied. When it was secure, he let go.

“Mind testing it out for me? I don’t want the girls to fall.”

Christian shrugged, braced one cowboy boot in the middle of the tire, and hopped on. The branch creaked under his weight, but the swing held strong. “Looks good,” he said as he swung back and forth for a few seconds before hopping off.

“How’s the lodge construction?” I asked as he shut the tailgate.

Christian leaned against the side of the truck and lifted his cowboy hat off his head to run his hand through his hair. “Fine. The foreman said some tools went missing Thursday night. Cass is going through all the cameras we have at the gates.”

Thursday? Why was this the first I was hearing about it?

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Christian shrugged. “Didn’t want to bother you with it. You don’t work for the ranch. Not your problem to deal with.”

“I live here. You didn’t think I should know someone stole shit off our property?”

Christian lifted his hands. “We don’t know if it was theft. The site foreman said he’s checking out his crew to make sure someone didn’t take something home that they weren’t supposed to. It used to be easy to spot someone who shouldn’t be out here. If they weren’t a Griffith or one of CJ’s boys, it was a red flag.” He sighed. “But there’s all kinds of people coming out here every day. The construction crew. Inspectors. Investors. The energy company that rents the land where they put up that cell tower and the solar panels on top of the barns. Cass is about to get the equine program going, and that’ll be a whole other thing. Random people coming in to ride or board their horses.”

“CJ’s gonna have an aneurysm.”

Christian cracked a smile. “That’s the truth.”

We were all possessive of the ranch, but CJ took it to a whole other level. I was fully convinced that he would never leave the ranch if he didn’t have to. He probably had a nice patch of dirt already picked out to be his grave when the day came.

“You wanna come up to the house for dinner?” Christian asked. “Cass is cooking.”

Honest to goodness, I was half-tempted to. “Nah. I think Brooke’s coming back tonight. I don’t know when she’ll get in.”

He cracked a smile. “You’re sweet on her.”

“Her car’s a piece of shit. I just wanna make sure she gets here in one piece.”

“You didn’t deny it.”

I shook my head. “She’s too young for me.”

“She’s what—twenty-five?”

“Twenty-two.”

He stroked his beard. “I mean, that’s young, but she’s not a kid. She’s not even in college.”

“I’m twelve years older than she is. That’s too much.”

He crossed his arms. “Same as our folks.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Because you’re in a wheelchair? So?”

I was done with this conversation. “Thanks for hanging the swing. Tell the girls they can come use it whenever they want.”

“Ray—”

It didn’t help that I did want Brooke in ways I shouldn’t. It didn’t help that every time I saw my nieces, I was reminded that having kids of my own was a bad idea.

Christian could hit me with all the well-meaning, well-adjusted, therapy-induced platitudes he wanted. It didn’t change reality.

“Ray, stop.”

“What?” I snapped as I headed for the ramp up to the deck.

“I don’t think I ever said I was sorry for everything you lost.”

I paused as Christian caught up to me. He went up the stairs and sat in one of the deck chairs while I took the ramp.

“I’m not saying I understand, because I don’t. After what happened to Nate in Mosul and losing Gretchen, I coped by working and moving forward. I had the girls to think about, and I had to hold on to the good moments to deal with the downpour. And I’m sorry for putting that expectation on you.”

I rolled it around in my head. “Did Cassandra put you up to this?”

He chuckled. “No. But she may have had a few choice words for me the other day and reminded me that she works through things by throwing knives.”

“You sure you wanna marry that woman?”

He grinned. “Yeah. I love her. She keeps me on my toes. I have to make sure we always go to bed on good terms so I don’t wake up with one of those knives in me instead of the target in the office.”

“Probably smart.”

“So,” Christian said as he stretched out and crossed his ankles. “Wanna tell me how you went from firing anyone who set foot in your kitchen to paying an unqualified gopher to live with you full-time?”

“You and your assumptions can fuck off.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I think my assumptions are pretty spot-on.”

Like he was one to talk. He had Cassandra living in his house before she even tolerated him.

Christian pushed to his feet. “No judgment. I think she’s a sweet girl.”

“Just stop talking already.”

He chuckled. “Momma loves her.”

“Momma loves everybody.”

“She’s good for you,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“She’s not good for my truck. I need a new bumper.”

“Trucks can be replaced. You can’t,” he said as he bumped my shoulder with his fist. “It’s good to have you back. Holler if you need anything.”