Bad News Cowboy (36 page)

She looked around, searching for something to say, since he was not responding to her prompt. “So, you've been fixing the place up?”

He chuckled. “Why? Can't you tell?”

“Not really.”

“It's a testament to how bad it looked before. I don't really know who was taking care of the animals, but obviously someone was. Now that I'm here they seem to have stopped. So I've been managing them.”

“This is where you grew up?”

“Yeah, unhappily.” He put his hands on his lean hips and looked around. “I never missed it. I never missed it once after I left.”

“And you were going to tell me why you left.” She took a step out of the muddy patch and to the side. She fixed her eyes down on the green, stepping on a weed that popped, a milky substance oozing out of the stem.

“Yes, I guess I was.”

“Are you still going to tell me?”

Jake was silent for a moment, then he took a deep breath. “Look at me again.”

His request was firm, loud in the otherwise silent front yard. She obeyed. “Why?”

“Because I want to see you looking at me one more time before you lose your respect for me.”

“Jake, being perfectly honest, you've come here, endangered my livelihood, had sex with me and left my apartment before I woke up. If that hasn't damaged my opinion of you, I think it's safe to say nothing will.”

He looked away from her, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “You say that, but you don't know.”

“No, I don't know. So stop with this mysterious crap and just tell me.”

“It's in the bad-boy handbook. We're supposed to be mysterious and brooding.”

“Yeah, well, knock it off. We both know you don't particularly like the label, so stop living up to it.”

“I haven't lived up to it. That's the thing. I'm not the same person I was when I left here. I've gotten a handle on my shit. I'm not just going off half-cocked, letting my anger bleed out on everything. That's what I was doing back then. My version of managing my temper was to release it and let it savage whatever got in my way. There's nothing sexy about that. Nothing attractive about it. I needed to get punched in the face, I did not need to get blow jobs as a reward for my bad behavior.”

Heat prickled her face. “Get a lot of those, did you?”

“A few,” he said, deadpan.

She cleared her throat. “You've got a handle on your anger now,” she said, looking at him, at the rage that was evident behind his blue eyes. It was funny he was saying that, because she felt like he was still angry. Felt like there was an endless well of it inside of him that he'd simply covered up. But it was leaking out, escaping, maybe because of where he was, or maybe because she had gotten too close to his emotions. For whatever reason she was more conscious of it now than she ever had been.

“Yeah, I've had a handle on it. I got out. I did what my father said I could never do. I got a job, I kept it. I earned the trust of the owner of the business. I learned a skill. I'm a mechanic, and I'm a damn good one. I know that for a lot of people that wouldn't seem a big achievement, but for a kid who was told he would never do anything but serve jail time? It's huge. When I left, I found something I could do. I found a way to be constructive. There's a whole lot of power in learning a skill.”

“I imagine there is. I own a coffee shop, I'm not going to look down on you because you're a mechanic. I respect it.”

“Yeah,
I
respect it. I don't especially need anyone else to. My dad never would have, he owned land. That was somehow better than anything I could ever live up to.”

“What did your dad do to you?”

Cassie thought of her own mother, of how fraught their relationship could be at times. Though she had to admit, her mother probably wasn't aware of how difficult it was. Her mother excelled at manipulation, at guilt, and creating a running tally of debts owed. She rarely shouted, but she would cry, get upset. And for Cassie that was a lot more damaging than a screaming match.

“Doesn't matter. After my mom died I just don't think he could figure out what to do with me. I was about twelve when that happened. I'd never been close to my dad, but it only got worse. We didn't grieve together, because he didn't grieve. And as a result neither did I. At first he just stopped paying attention to me, so I would do stupid shit to make him look in my direction. And eventually the neglect turned into resentment. I couldn't do a damn thing right in his eyes. Not my chores, not my schoolwork. And I admit, I didn't do any of it particularly well. I had a hard time in school, I was never going to graduate at the top of the class—you've seen my work so you knew that.”

“It isn't that you weren't smart, Jake. That stuff just isn't easy for everyone.”

“I know that, objectively. Now, as an adult. But as a kid? I just believed him. I was dumb, but I couldn't do anything right. And since I could never do anything right anyway, I decided I might as well embrace it. So I was always pushing things. Always trying to make him angry, because he was always angry anyway. The more I pushed it the angrier he got, the angrier he got the angrier I got. And eventually I stopped trying to control it. So we would have shouting matches, and that never ended well. Usually with me getting punched in the face.”

“Jake,” she breathed, feeling like all the air had gone out of her lungs. “That's not okay.”

“I know it. I know.” Cassie's stomach tightened, anxiety coursing through her, pain wrenching her chest. “What happened, Jake?”

“The night after you and I studied in the library, I came home. He was pissed about something, something I had done wrong on the ranch. Something I had missed because I had gone to get some extra tutoring, because I was failing school. Which was just typical. Because I couldn't do anything right. I couldn't do the chores right if I was trying to do school right, but if I was smarter I would've been able to just do school, instead of needing all that extra help.”

Jake shook his head. “I was so angry. So fucking angry. I couldn't do a damn thing right for him. He told me to go out and check on the wheat field. So I did. I went out there with my lighter and my cigarettes, and I thought to myself it would be so easy to just smoke the place. To make all my problems go away. Because if the ranch wasn't there, I wouldn't have to take care of it. I wouldn't be able to fail it. And I just did it. I didn't have any control over my emotions. I didn't have any control over my impulses, and I threw the lighter and the cigarette down the field. I watched it burn, Cassie.”

Cassie put her hand over her mouth, careful not to interrupt him. Careful not to make a sound.

He continued. “I regretted it pretty quick, but by the time I tried to put it out, it had gone too far. There was nothing I could do. Nothing I could do but watch my anger burn out of control. I didn't leave. I was thrown out. My father told me he never wanted to see me again because of what I'd done. So I got my bike and I left. I never came back.”

Cassie pictured Jake as he'd been. The long, lean boy she'd known, with a chip on his shoulder and a reputation she'd always assumed was misunderstood. And she realized that she had been doing him just as much of a disservice as everyone else. Other people had written him off, while she had been looking at him through rose-colored glasses. Both things had prevented people from seeing what was actually going on with Jake. Some people had made him a villain; she had made him a fantasy. And all the while no one had seen the boy as he was. No one had seen that he needed help. That he was drowning, in hurt, in grief and in rage.

“Oh, Jake, I'm so sorry.”

He took a step back from her. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

“Because I should've seen, I should've asked you. Should've talked to you. I was so busy fantasizing about making out with you that I never stopped to see you as a person. And I did the same thing last night. You're not just a fantasy, you're a human being. And I didn't see that.” She took a deep breath. “I didn't see past myself. What I wanted.”

Jake laughed, the sound bitter, echoing off the canopy of trees. “Most men wouldn't complain about you seeing them as a fantasy, honey.”

“But you know what I mean, Jake.”

He looked down. “I guess I do.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize to me. What I did was inexcusable. I cost my father Lord knows how much money, unless he got the insurance to cover it. But probably not, seeing as it was arson.”

“You don't even know?”

“No, I don't know. I left, and I never came back.”

“Because he told you to.”

“Yeah, and I was looking for any excuse.” He let out a long breath. “Don't try to make me the victim here. I was the bad guy.”

Cassie scrunched her nose. “It's funny, I thought of us as opposites all this time. I looked at you and I saw a guy who had the kind of freedom that I envied. My mother always made me feel guilty. Like she had sacrificed everything to have me. And she did, Jake. In fairness, she did sacrifice to have me. So I felt like I had to live my whole life to please her. On the surface we seem different, but if you really look closely I think we're the same.”

“Why? Did you set your mom's kitchen on fire?”

“We both had people who wanted something from us we didn't know how to give. I changed myself. I did everything I could to be the person my mom wanted me to be, even if I didn't want the things she wanted. I wanted to own a business, I wanted to go to college. But my mom made me so conscious of the importance of finding a man and getting married, and not ending up like her, that I did that instead. Without even realizing that was what I was doing.” She was only just now fully realizing it.

She bent down and picked a dandelion, snapping the heavy yellow head from the stem before she continued. “But it wasn't me. It wasn't right. I don't even think I loved him. Not really. I loved the idea. I loved the idea of finding someone, and having this idyllic family life that my mother had always wanted, but couldn't give us. I wanted to give that to us. And then when push came to shove and he didn't want to be married anymore, I didn't even know how to fight, because I had always just gone along with what other people wanted for me. Then I was standing there, a failure in my mother's eyes. And it didn't even matter what I thought, how I saw myself, because it had never mattered to me before. I think we are just the same. Your father wanted something from you, but instead of bending over backward to try and do it like I did, you flipped him the middle finger and did everything you could to rebel against him.”

“That's basically us being opposites.”

She laughed even though she didn't find any of it particularly funny. “Except, if you think about it, both of us were just living for other people. Neither of us were doing what we wanted. We were reacting to the things other people told us. What do you want, Jake? What do you want from life?”

He rubbed the back of his neck before dropping his hand and making eye contact with her again. “I have what I want. At least I had it. I just want to go back to Seattle, I want to buy the mechanic shop, and I want to keep living.” He took a deep breath. “I've got a handle on everything now. Coming back here just stirs it all up.”

“Probably because you don't actually have a handle on it.”

“I do. I just need to get away from this place.”

“And what would you do in Seattle, Jake? Once you have your mechanic shop, then what?”

“What kind of question is that, Cassie? What will you do? Are you going to keep living to please your mother? Are you going to run your coffee shop and try to find a new husband? What are your goals?”

“My goals? I'm good with figuring out who I am. Apart from all of this. Apart from expectation. I've already started. I have my business. Right now, I have you.”

“Not for long.”

Okay, so she'd overstepped here. She'd been feeling...brave. Not herself. And she'd said something dumb. Damn, that hurt. Even if it was true. And she knew it was. She didn't expect this to be a forever thing. She knew she couldn't keep him for very long, but that didn't mean she wouldn't miss him when he was gone.

“I know that, okay, Jake? I've been married before. I don't really want to go there again. Not just now. Now when I'm still getting everything together.”

“Is there a point where we're supposed to have it together?” he asked. “Because if so, I seem to have missed it.”

“I intend to someday. I'm tired of settling. I'm tired of settling for my mom's dreams. I'm tired of just accepting what gets lobbed at me. I think I deserve more. Don't you?”

“Do I think you deserve more? Hell yeah. Do I think I do?” He squinted and looked off into the distance. She wondered if he was looking toward the field he'd lit on fire. “I think I deserve what I worked for. I don't really think I deserve much else.”

And she could tell the subject was closed now. That she'd pushed things much further than a one-night stand should be allowed to.

“Do you want to show me around?”

“That is kind of why I brought you here. I was going to show you the field I burned. He never grew anything in it after that. At least, it doesn't look like it. Still a bunch of ash.” He swallowed hard. “Sometimes you just can't undo stuff. Sometimes you can't fix it.”

“Do you wish you could fix things with your dad?”

“I don't know. Our relationship was what it was. I doubt he ever changed.”

Her heart felt like it was splintering, for him. For the rift he would never have the chance to heal.

He walked up the porch steps, and she watched one of them bow beneath his weight, and she followed carefully to avoid the one that was compromised. He unlocked the door and she trailed him inside. The inside of the house smelled stale. It looked clean enough, but as she walked across the wooden floor she could see that there was a film of dirt on the wood, could see where Jake had walked when he'd come in on previous visits.