Branding A Legacy (A Silver Star Ranch Novel) (6 page)

“Saint found out,” Granddad whispers.

“He found out and met us that night at the meeting spot. I had no time to get out of there. He killed his man and Weston right in front of me. Beat them to near death and slit their throats and then came after me.”

“How did the colt make it back to our barn?”

“I have no clue. They beat me but always kept me right on the edge of awareness.” I take a moment to gather my bearings. Retelling the story is a lot fucking harder than I ever thought it would be. “I know they wrecked my truck, then had me dumped out in the desert. I lost track of time, but Saint’s men would come out every so often to give me just enough food to keep me alive and torture me more.”

“It just doesn’t all add up, son.” Granddad shakes his head as he rises up to face me. Tears roll down his face, gutting me even more. I’m not sure what I have left to give.

“I’m sorry, Granddad.”

“Sorry for what? Standing up for your honor, defending our ranch? You’re sorry for that?” His voice grows loud as he yells at me. The anger lacing his voice is obvious as his face turns beet-red.

“I shouldn’t have been so damn greedy.” I finally bow my head.

I hear the rattle of his walker and then feel the sting of his slap across my cheek, and when I look up I see Clover standing in the doorway with her hand covering her mouth.

“Don’t you ever apologize for standing up for what’s right. You didn’t go about it the right way that’s for sure, but you don’t ever apologize to me. We need you back home, Marvel, so get your shit together and then we will fix this problem forever.”

“Everything okay?” Clover’s soft voice echoes through the room. I watch as Granddad looks back to her and smiles.

“Everything is fine. My time up?”

“Yes, it is. I can give you a few more minutes but just wanted to check on you, sir.”

“Enough with the sir shit. I’m fine, Clover. Have a seat.” He gestures.

“No, how about this?” I watch as she guides him back down in the chair, making sure he’s in a comfortable position. She then moves to the other side of my bed and adjusts it by turning it just enough so I can face him without straining. I can’t help but stare at her as she works quickly to adjust all the tubes and monitors surrounding me. When the back of her hand grazes the top of my arm I feel it again. It’s the same electric touch I experienced the night she saved me.

“Clover, have you been properly introduced to my youngest grandson?”

“Um, no…” She trails off at a loss for words.

“Marvel Slatter, this is Clover, the gal who’s been taking such good care of me.”

I turn to look up at her and notice she’s doing everything but making eye contact with me in the small sterile environment.

“Clover.” Her name rolls off my tongue, and I know it’s a mistake to try to even talk to her. “Nice to meet you.”

I grab her hand and force a handshake, yet she still avoids eye contact until I give her hand a little jerk toward me.

“I said nice to meet you again.” I make sure to add extra emphasis onto the last word.

“I’ll just wait outside.” Clover tries to pull her hand back from mine. Even laid up in a hospital with infection coursing through my veins, I’m able to overpower her. When I clutch her hand a bit harder I feel her begin to quake under my touch. It’s the same feeling I experienced out in the desert and when I watched Weston take his last breath. Immediately I let go of her hand and watch her walk out of the room.

“What in the hell is going on, Marvel?”

“She’s the girl who saved me.”

“I know, son. What’s the problem?”

“I didn’t want to be saved.” I cover my face, throwing my head back onto the pillows. “I wanted, I mean, I want to die. Saint will finish the job once he knows I’m alive and will even come after the rest of you.”

“Now, I’m disappointed, Marvel.” I uncover my eyes and look up to my granddad who is once again standing. “You will not become like Saint and that’s exactly what you are doing, boy.”

His entire body shakes out of control with anger. I’ve never seen him so pissed off in my life.

“You are turning pure evil in front of my own goddamn eyes.” He raises both of his hands over his head letting go of his walker. “I will not let my own grandson become as evil as Saint. I’m here fighting for you as long as your brothers are too. I’ll be back in the morning to talk again and I’d hope you’ll be ready.”

He slowly walks away with his back to me, still talking as he makes his way to the door. “You’re a damn Slatter, so start living up to the name. You have a brand and a way of life you don’t just throw away, Marvel.”

The opening and closing of the door fills the small room as I stare up at the white tile ceiling and replay Granddad’s words over and over in my mind. When I clutched Clover’s hand and felt her tremor underneath my touch I could’ve easily enjoyed her misery. Even relish in the fact, I made someone else nearly piss themselves just from my touch.

My entire body shudders with chills and fear of what I’m becoming. I don’t know how to stop the inevitable dark storm lurking above me. It needs to be stopped, but I just don’t know if I have enough in me to make it happen. Clenching my eyes shut, I see Weston and the streams of blood running off of him pooling in the dirt road. His pain mixed together with my guilt forces the evil side of me to rear its ugly head. I want revenge, but even more than that I want eternal darkness.

That darkness was so tempting until Granddad’s words…they only confused me more, reminding me of the right thing to do. It’s a slippery staircase, a teetering balancing act, and the easy way is choosing darkness. The route of no pain or torture. Tears well up behind my closed eyelids and begin to burn until they leak down the sides of my face as I fight for a new beginning, not sure of my own destination anymore.

“
I
really don’t think
this is a good idea.”

“Oh, shut it, Clover.” Challis throws more house goods into the cart and whizzes down the aisles.

“Wait up, you assholes are going to throw me into labor.” Ella waddles up to me as I watch which aisle Challis goes down next.

“Are you okay, Ella?” I wait for her to catch up and can only hope she’s joking since she has several weeks to go until she’s full term. Plus, since she’s carrying twins, she’s high risk anyway and unlikely to go full term.
Fuck, my nurse brain never turns off.

“I’m fine.” She waves me off then places her hand on my shoulder. “I’m fine, just trying to keep up with the damn wild child.”

“Yeah, she’s a bit hyper,” I agree.

“She never slows down, and once you get to know Merek more it will make more sense. They’re the perfect pair.”

I laugh out loud and can totally see what Ella is saying. “I really don’t think me moving into Maverik’s old house is such a great idea, though.”

“Why?” Ella asks as we reach Challis, who’s stopped at the bathroom rugs looking through the different patterns.

“Marvel hates me.”

“Oh, he does not,” Ella says.

I know way more than the two Slatter women from being in Granddad’s room and helping to change Marvel’s bandages a couple of times. He as much told me he’d rather be dead than living.

“Marvel is just having a hard time,” Challis says holding up two rugs as she turns to me.

“She doesn’t need bathroom rugs,” Ella says. “The house is fully furnished, for shit sakes.”

“Yeah, and trust me, the whole family knows that you and Maverik sneak off to bang in his old house. We aren’t dumb, Ella.” Challis grins from ear to ear as she holds up each rug waiting for us to decide.

Ella blushes to a bright crimson-red, letting the whole store know Challis’ accusation is very true.

I point to the black and white rug with a chevron pattern. “Really, guys, Marvel will be coming home soon and really hates me.”

“He’s just not in a good place in life right now.” Challis brushes me off as she tosses the black and white rug in the cart.

Challis leads us up to the register since the cart is completely full. “Why are you guys doing this for me? I mean…”

Challis stops dead in her tracks, turning to me with Ella at her side. “We are all independent women here. We were saved,” she gestures between her and Ella, “by the Slatter men. They fought hard for us, never giving up on us, and accepting us as their own family.”

I shrug, not understanding why they are being so nice and inviting to a stranger like me.

“The Slatters saved us,” Ella adds. “Granddad gave us strict instructions to take care of you.”

“But why?” I ask again.

“You’ve taken care of him and saved Marvel’s life. I’m not sure what you don’t understand, Clover. You are kind and caring with asshole family members who kicked you out,” Challis finishes the conversation.

I know there’s no way of talking them out of this idea, and frankly I have nowhere else to go. I pretty much live at the hospital, but it’s nice to get away every once in a while.

“Well, thank you, and I’ll help with Granddad when he comes home. He’ll need to be monitored closely.”

“See, it’s perfect. Now let’s go rodeo.” Ella and I both watch as Challis skips out of the store with the cart.

“Do you think it’s okay I’m moving in?” I look over to Ella.

“It will all be fine, sweetie. There’s one thing in life I’ve learned, and that’s when the Slatters are on your side, everything will turn out just fine.”

“Okay.” I finally surrender in defeat, still not feeling fully comfortable with the whole idea. But I do know that I want to be there for Granddad and his recovery.

“You want to go to the rodeo tonight, Clover? Merek is riding and lil’ Mav is doing the junior roping.” Challis speeds down the country road out to the family ranch.

“Sounds fun, but I told Amy I’d cover her shift tonight.”

“You need to get a life, girl. You’re young and cute and should be living it up instead of working all the damn time,” Challis says.

“I know.” I shrug in the back seat of her truck. “It’s all I’ve ever known. It’s how my mom was growing up.”

After the girls drop me off and help haul in the bags from the store, I sit down on the couch and search for my phone. I haven’t talked to my mom in days since Marvel was found. My life has been a whirlwind of emotions and has flown by at a fast pace.

I dial her number, and for the first time in a long time, I long to hear her voice. She might not have been the warmest mother, but she was all I ever had and what home was. Her phone rings and rings until it goes to voicemail and I hang up knowing that leaving a message will be a hopeless cause. She knows it’s me and not a high-profile client.

I lie back on the couch, grunting with frustration, and remember why I love to get lost in my work. I don’t have time to think or try to process any of my jacked up life. I just need to move back home, find a small hospital to work in, and blend in. And that’s exactly what I’ll do once Granddad is home and doing well.

I’ve only had one more encounter with Marvel while working. His nurse needed help once again changing bandages. I ignored the call for several minutes until it was obvious that I should be there. This time he didn’t make eye contact or even try to talk to me. I’m not sure what’s worse—the stone-cold Marvel or the pissed off one.

My phone distracts me from my thoughts as it beeps loudly, alerting me to a text message.

M
om
: I’m out of the office at the moment. I’ll return your call in the morning.

I
mmediately I know
it’s an automated text she has set up to be sent to every missed call. Talk about questioning yourself after being raised and treated the way I was by my mother, then being kicked out of your uncle’s house, and the final cherry on the fucked-up sundae being despised by the man you saved.

I don’t take long celebrating my own pity party before I drag myself up off the couch and to the shower. A nice hot shower will do the trick before a long shift at work. May be the most pleasure I get.

As the hot water pounds my back and my hair frames my face, all I can think of is Marvel and that night. The smells from his wounds, the terror in his eyes, and the feel of the kiss. It still stings my lips, and I’d do anything to taste them again. I know it’s all wrong and definitely against all hospital policies. But he did something to me that night out on that dirt road.

My thoughts always lead to him and then I yearn for more of him.

“
C
lover
, you’re five minutes late.”

“Sorry, won’t happen again.” I can’t seem to find a reasonable excuse, and I’m sure in hell not going to explain to the charge nurse why I am actually late.

“You’ll be covering floor four tonight.”

“What?” I drop the water bottle from my hands as I feel my heart thud against my chest.

“We need you in the ICU. I know you love your own patients and will give you some time to go visit. You’re good for their souls.”

It takes everything inside of me not to scream out loud in frustration. Checking in on Marvel every thirty minutes is not something I want to do. Just thinking about him and that shower makes me flush with embarrassment.

I visit each patient’s charts and rooms, tending to their needs before even attempting to look at Marvel’s charts. His door is closed with an armed agent standing outside of it.

“Ma’am, give us about twenty more minutes.”

I only nod to him before turning away quickly and making my way down to Granddad’s floor. When I peek into his room I spot Sterling and Maverik standing on each side of his bed deep in a private conversation. The thick sole of one of my shoes catches on the door jamb, sending me sailing straight into the room.

“Umph.” I stand up slowly and begin to rub my throbbing wrist. “Sorry, I was trying to turn around when I…”

“Ate shit.” Sterling finishes for me.

“Yes, ate shit.” I nod back to him. “I just wanted to see how the old man was doing. Sorry for interrupting.”

“Oh, Clover, get your ass over here.” Granddad opens his arms, smiling brightly.

“I’m really sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I hug Granddad.

“You hear the good news?” he asks.

“What?”

“I got my walking papers. Busting out in the morning.”

I can’t help the laughter that escapes from me. “You act like this is a prison.”

“To an old cowboy like me it is. I can’t wait to blow this Popsicle stand.”

I laugh even harder at him.

“And you’ll be living right across the road from me.”

“I just got all my stuff settled in.” I beam back brightly.

“Good,” he adds.

“Well, Old Man, we are off to the rodeo to watch Merek and lil’ Mav. I’ll stop by before we head home.”

“Sounds good, son. Tell Merek to spur the hair off of one.”

Granddad and Maverik finish up their conversation as I walk over to the sink checking his charts, making sure he’s only receiving the best from his nurses.

“How you hanging in there?” Sterling’s voice tickles my ear, and when I whirl around I come face to face with him.

I let out a little yelp as he grips onto my waist, pulling me into him. His broad chest is hard as I fall right into him. Then his musky smell assaults my nose, causing me to nearly pass out from all of his manliness.

“Doing okay, Clover?”

I manage to nod my head up and down.

“I haven’t been able to catch up with you the last week.”

“Oh, I’m good,” I manage to ramble out.

He tips his hat to me. “I was thinking we could go get dinner together soon.”

“Okay,” I say quickly, wanting his body heat away from me before I melt into a puddle of goo. Sterling is very attractive, and it’s beyond clear my lady parts are not used to getting any attention from the opposite sex.

I shuffle to the side quickly and go straight to Granddad’s bedside and clutch his hand.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“No worries, little gal.”

“I’ll start going home when I’m off shift so I can tend to my favorite patient.”

The word “home” sounds funny rolling off my tongue. Their ranch is the furthest thing from my home, but in an odd way I feel so welcomed there, like how a person should feel in their own home. My mind could go for hours debating this topic, so I stop, forcing myself to walk toward the door.

“Wednesday night work?” Sterling asks.

I turn back, looking at him lost for a moment until I realize what he’s asking.

“Um, I’ll need to check my schedule.” I fumble with my fingers before swinging open the door and escaping. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t get any more awkward than what just went down. I’m surprised I didn’t just piss myself like a nervous toddler.

“Could you be any more socially unacceptable, Clover?”
My mom’s voice taunts me as I make my way back down to my floor.
“I mean, good God, would it kill you to curl your hair or wear a cute dress?”

That’s about as loving as she got. When she was harping my ass at least I knew she was thinking about me. I stumble off the elevator and get my mind back into the game. This is exactly why I’ve never let my mind wander off to boys, dating, and fairy tales.

Two agents walk from Marvel’s room when I grab his charts and cups of medicine.

“He’s all yours.” Jillian is the last out, shutting the door behind her. Her red hair still hypnotizes me. My lady crush on her is still in full force.

“Thanks.” I wave to them as they’re all business walking onto the elevator.

The one agent stays posted by the door, and from what I’ve heard they’ve been there the last few days. When I stop to think about the clear danger Marvel is in and his pleas to let him die that night on the road, I can understand his hatred toward me. The FBI doesn’t fool around, so when an agent is on guard outside a hospital room, it’s nothing to fool around about.

I take in a long, deep breath before lightly knocking on his door and then let it out and pray for somewhat of a peaceful night with him. From the charts, it looks as if Marvel’s infection is nearly gone and his wounds are healing nicely. He’s started physical therapy and will be well on his way home soon. I didn’t miss the notes in his charts about his foul mood.

“Marvel.”

A light grunt fills the dark room.

“Just here for your nightly meds.”

I flip on a set of lights above his bed and then dim them to their lowest point, trying to avoid blinding him. Marvel sits up in his bed, facing me with sleep covering all of his features. It’s clear he was deep in slumber before I woke him up, which makes no sense considering the agents just left.

“Sorry for waking you. I just need you to take these.” I hold out three small paper cups filled with different sized and colored pills.

“I was just dozing off. It’s fine, Clover.”

My knees buckle when he uses my name while internally I stabilize myself for his verbal attacks. I cringe when I hand him his mug filled with ice water. Marvel takes his time grabbing it from me, making sure our fingers touch, causing me to flinch.

I watch as he downs all the meds easily with one long gulp of water. His face has healed up nicely with only minor scars left behind. I can’t say the same for his chest and the long jagged scar running the length of it.

“I just need to check a couple of things and then I’ll let you get some sleep until my rounds later tonight.”

I pull back his blanket and try not to gasp out loud when I realize the majority of his bandages have been removed, leaving behind his marred skin and skimpy hospital gown.

“There are only two bandages left.”

I look up to Marvel, who has been clearly studying me.

“It looks good, Marvel, really good.”

“Yeah, that’s what they say.” He rests back on his elbow. Reaching forward with one hand, he grabs my wrist. “I’m sorry for being so mean to you.”