Cowboy Redemption (Down Under Cowboy Book 6) (13 page)

Kennedy

“I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“Me too, Kye,” I reply, feeling as if my entire world is crumbling.   How can this be?  Did he just dump me?

I fucked up and I have to go back to Canberra.

Not sure, Kennedy.

I’m sorry, darlin’.

I fucked up.

I fucked up.

Canberra.

Jail.

Not sure, Kennedy.

I’m sorry, darlin’.

I fucked up.

Jail.

I’m sorry, darlin’.

A lone sob works its way up my throat, escaping just as my knees hit the floor.  My hands go to my face and drop my head into my lap.  This can’t be happening.

Why didn’t I fight for him?  Why didn’t I say more?  Why didn’t I convince him not to give up on us?

Because deep down I know I am not worthy of the love a man like him is capable of giving.

There’s a knock on my front door.

Did Kye prank me?  Was it all a sick joke?
  Hope flares in my chest and I race to the door.  I fling it open and Ava stands there, a broken look on her face.

“Kendy,” she whispers.

“Avy.”  My lip trembles.  She rushes to me, wrapping her arms around me.  She walks us to the couch and sits down with me.

“You okay, Kennedy?” Jeremy asks me.

I nod, tears pouring down my face.

“How did you know?” I ask them, looking at my sister.

“Jer came home from the pub and told me Kye was involved in a fight, and that he was taken by the cops.  I wanted to come and tell you, but it looks like you already know.”

“He rang me from the police station.  He’s going back to Canberra,” I say sadly.

“What?  Why?” Ava asks in disbelief.

“He,” I pause to hitch in a broken breath.  “He has to go to j-jail.  He b-broke the t-terms of his good behaviour b-bond,” I choke out.

“Oh my gosh.”  Ava’s hands fly to her mouth.

“Fuck,” Jeremy mutters.  “I’m sorry, Kennedy.  We didn’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“We were celebrating our darts win.  Had we known he had issues with alcohol, we wouldn’t have heckled him to have a drink with us.  Fuck!” he scrubs his hands over his face, agitated.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Is he coming back?”  Ava asks.

I shrug.  “He dumped me.”

“Oh, Kendy.”  She hugs me again and I cry some more on her shoulder.

“Where are the kids?” I ask, trying to pull myself together.  I wipe my eyes and take a deep breath.

“Jack’s at our place with them.  When he came home with Jer and they told me what happened, I wanted to come here right away.  Jer didn’t want me out driving alone.”

“You want a coffee or something Kennedy?” Jeremy asks.

“Yeah, thanks.”  He busies himself in my kitchen, making us all a coffee as the sun begins to shine through my front windows.

“I can’t believe this has happened,” I whisper to my sister.  “I thought he was
the one
.  I was falling in love with him.”

“I don’t think you were falling, Kendy.  I think you’ve already fell.”

I’m glad it’s Sunday, so I have the day off.  This means I can curl up in bed all day long and cry away my sorrows.  After they have stayed for a few hours and I manage to convince them I will be okay, Ava and Jeremy leave to get home to their kids.  As soon as I lock the door behind them, I take a hot shower.  My eyes are puffy from the tears but I can’t find it in my care.  I pull on my softest pair of pyjamas – which are also my oldest pair – and climb back into bed.  Shoving my pillow over my face, I cry until I fall asleep.

Heartbreak sucks.

~*~

Monday morning rolls around all too quickly for my liking.  By the time I drag my arse out of bed, I only have forty-five minutes to make myself presentable before the group sessions start.  Walking into the bathroom, I ignore the empty tub of double chocolate chip ice cream I left on the floor after I had eaten it all.  I’ll pick it up later. 

After showering, I put on some makeup in an attempt to hide my swollen eyes and then I get dressed and walk outside.  Everyone is gathered in a circle so I make my way over to them, giving a half-arsed, fake smile to everyone who catches my eye.

“Morning, Kennedy.  How was your weekend?” Mitch asks.

“Hey Mitch.” I avoid his question.

“Listen up, everyone!” Maria announces.  “Today is going to be a little different.  All the residents will be meeting in the library to watch a movie.  After that you can do your journals.”

“What’s going on?” I whisper to Mitch.

“No idea,” he whispers back with a shrug, looking as confused as I am.

“Sponsors, I need to see you all in my office after you’ve gotten the residents set up in the library.”  She turns and walks back to her office.  My stomach sinks.  Something is up.

“Okay, guys.  You heard Maria, let’s get to the library,” Mitch shouts.

“S’cuse me, Kennedy?”

“Yes, Blake.”

“Can I work on my goals as well as my journal after we watch the movie?”

“Sure, mate.”  Blake is a good kid.  He arrived last week and leaves on Wednesday.  I think the scare of coming here was more effective than any other punishment he could have been handed.

“Thanks.”

We make sure everyone is set up and then we make our way over to Maria’s office.  She’s sitting behind her desk with a sombre look on her face.

“Everything okay, Maria?” I ask immediately.

“Close the door please.”  I hear the door click softly shut.  There are five sponsors and Maria, all crammed in her office, so the fit is tight.

“I have some bad news.”

More bad news.  Great.

“Unfortunately, the government has made the decision to cut funding to Hope and Chance Retreat.”

Audible gasps sound through the room, including my own.

“Is there anything we can do?” I ask.

“What does this mean?” someone asks.

“A couple of months ago, I received word that this was in the cards.  Since then, I have lobbied with the government to keep us open.  They gave us a short reprieve, but with budget cuts running rampant, unfortunately we are affected.  I have exhausted all of our resources and applied for all the grants available to us.  Some we were unsuccessful with, but I managed to secure enough money for us to see this week out.  Then, we bid farewell to the current residents and close the doors to Hope and Chance Retreat.”  Tears well in her eyes, as well as my own, and I’m sure everyone in the room is teary.

“I can’t believe it,” I hear whispered.

“I know you’ve all probably got a bunch of questions, and I’m happy to answer them to the best of my ability.  The only thing I ask is that you please go about your day as normal, and not alert the residents to the goings on as of yet.”

“When do you plan on telling them?” Mitch asks.

“I would like to tell them all tomorrow night.  I was thinking of putting together a cook-out night, a relaxed environment, where we can break the news.”

“I’m in shock right now,” I murmur.

“What happens now?  When Friday comes around, is that it?  We all just pack up and leave?” Joanie asks, sniffling.

“I’m afraid so.  I have been trying to find other positions for you all, but the problem with that is finding something in the local area.  At the moment, I have some job vacancies in far north Queensland and down south as far as Victoria.  Nothing local, though.  If you’re prepared to move, you can see me later and I will give you a list of available positions.”

“I’m interested,” Joanie pipes up.  “As much as I don’t want to leave, I can’t stay here without a job.  That’s the bottom line.”

“Me too,” Mitch replies.

Everyone else nods in agreement.  All except me.  I don’t want to leave the area.  I’ll go work in my mum’s Coffee House if I have to.  Or, I’ll ask Jeremy and Jackson for a job on the Station.  I don’t want to leave my family, my friends, my nieces and nephews.  No way.  Not now that I finally have them back in my life.

We leave and make our way back to the library, trying to shake our melancholic mood so the residents don’t suspect something is up.  After they have completed their diary entries we spend the day according to our usual routine.  The older residents go to the site where they are currently almost done completing a project while the younger residents split into groups.  I take my group into the kitchen for cooking class and I try to remain as upbeat and positive as usual.  It’s hard, though.  So hard.  I’ve lost the guy I love and the job I love in the space of forty-eight hours.

This sucks.

Kye

“What are you drawing?”

“Nothing important.”  I snap my book closed and sit it down beside me.

“You want to play a game of cards?”

“Why not.” I shrug.

My cellmate, Boston, deals the cards out.  He is an all right guy and we get along well.  At twenty-seven, he’s three years into a six year sentence for armed robbery.  Looking at him, you wouldn’t believe he was capable of such a crime.  He’s tall but scrawny and incredibly quiet and very shy.  It took me two weeks to get him to even say g’day to me and I’m in his face twenty-three hours a day in a six by four room. 

I toss away two of my cards and he collects them, reshuffles, and deals me back out two new cards. 

“What’ve you got?” he asks, laying his two-pair down flat.

“Three of a kind, buddy.”  I grin, laying my cards down.

He marks a stroke under my name and hands me the cards.  I’ve been here a month so far, and I still have ninety days to go, so there has been plenty of time for card games.  Plenty of time for me to whoop Boston’s arse – which I do, frequently!

“Boston.  Visitor.”  The guard unlocks the door and Boston stands up.

“Don’t look at my cards,” he warns.

When he has gone, I move back over to my bed and take out my sketchbook.  Opening it up, I look at the pictures I’ve drawn.  Pipe dreams I’ve had for years that have kept me sane during the past thirty days. 

A football coaching clinic I want to start up when I get out of here.  A clinic that will teach kids the fundamentals and tactics of the game.  A clinic that will strive to ensure kids know what they are getting into with a professional football career and will make sure they don’t get carried away and end up down the same path I did.

Being in prison makes you reassess your priorities, makes you shift your mindset.  I have realized that after my football career ended and I was sent to Hope and Chance Retreat, I was obviously not in the best state of mind.  When I left the program, I stayed on in Pine Creek, wanting to pursue things with Kennedy and content to get by however I could.  Right there lain the problem though. I was
content.
  I don’t want to be content. I’ve never been the type of guy who strives to be
content.
  I want to kick goals I have made for myself, I want to reach for my dreams.  I want to make a plan and give it my all, like the old Kye would.  The old Kye had a dream to be a professional football player and he stopped at nothing to make that dream come true.  I want to be that guy again.

When I get out of here, I’m going to make it happen.  I’m going to be that Kye again.  While I’m in here, I’ll spend my days planning this clinic so when I get out, I can hit the ground running.  The only issue I’m stuck on right now is the location.  My heart is telling me Pine Creek.  I could win my girl back, too.  But my mind is telling me she doesn’t need a man like me in her life.

The door unlocks and Boston walks in.  He sits down on his bed and eyes my sketchbook.  I close it up and place it under my thin scrap of fluff they call a pillow. 

“Ready to get your arse whooped?” he asks, picking his cards up.

I collect mine and fan them out in my hand. 
Fucking shit hand.
  I keep the Ace and toss the other four back onto the deck. 

“Who was your visitor?” I ask casually, pretty certain he won’t answer me.

“Lawyer.”

I deal him three cards and myself four, set the deck down, pick up my hand and hold back a grin. 
Fuck yeah.  Two pair.  Better than the shit I had before.

“What’d he want?”  Again, I’m certain he won’t tell me, so I’m surprised when he actually opens up.  After all, prison isn’t the kind of place where you let your secrets all hang out.

“Took me a while but I finally found a suit who’d listen to me.  He’s going to go through all the court files and see about getting me out of this shithole.”

“That’s awesome, man.”

“What’ve you got?” he asks, laying down his cards.  I put mine down in the same fashion, displaying my two sevens, two nines and an Ace.

“Yeah, baby!” he hoots.  I check his cards and see he has won the hand with a full house – two kings and three eights.

“Arsehole,” I mutter.

With a shit-eating grin, he proudly makes a mark under his name on our tally board.

“I didn’t do it, you know,” he states quietly, shuffling the deck.

“Never thought you did,” I say nonchalantly.  “Anyone who thought your scrawny arse could commit that kind of crime needs their head read,” I add, hoping to lighten the heavy mood that is settling in our cell.

He scoffs and flexes his biceps.  “I got guns, bitch.”

“Piss off and deal the cards.” I shake my head, biting back a grin.

~*~

Kennedy

  “Good morning!  What can I get you?”  I take out my pad and pen, ready to take the customers order.

“Morning.  Can I get a large coffee and a slice of carrot cake, please?”

“Sure.”  I set about filling the order and then move onto the next customer. 

It has been two months since Hope and Chance Retreat shut down.  I ended up moving back into my parents’ house, which isn’t ideal, but it was better than the alternative - Edie and Jackson’s cottage.  I was afraid the memories of Kye would have been too much to handle, so I passed it up.  When I’m not helping out on the farm or here at my mum’s Coffee House, I have been looking for rentals in the area.  So far I haven’t had much luck, but living back at home isn’t as bad as it sounds.  For starters, I have the place to myself because my mum and dad are off travelling.  Still, I don’t want to stay there forever.  They will be home next week and I don’t want to impose on them for too long.

“Hey, girl,” Edie says, giving me hug over the counter.

“Hi, how are you?  Hey, kids.” I give them all a smile that I know doesn’t quiet reach my eyes.  It’s been that way since Kye left. 
He took my happiness with him.

“We’re good. We just stopped in for a milkshake.”

“Guess what, Kennedy?” Max, Edie and Jackson’s little boy exclaims.

“What?”

“I go to big school next week,” he states proudly.

“No way!” I gasp.

“Uh-huh.” He nods emphatically.  “I’m five.” He holds five little fingers up.

“I already go to big school.” Olive informs me.  “I’m going into Year Two.”

“Wow! You guys are just growing up too quickly.”

“I can count to 100
and
say my ABC’s,” Olive tells me.

“I can count to twenty,” Max interjects.

“You’re both just too smart.”  I laugh and Edie grins, stroking her children’s hair affectionately. 

“Go take a seat and I’ll bring it out to you guys.”

“Thanks, Kennedy,” Olive says.

“You’re welcome, gorgeous.”

I make their shakes and take them out to their table.  It’s a nice day today, so they are sitting outside in the sunshine.

The kids slurp their shakes in, giggling at the sounds their straws make.  With them distracted, I turn to Edie.

“Have you heard from him?” I ask on a whisper.  She shakes her head sorrowfully, her eyes turning sad. 

“Sorry, hun.”

“I just wish I knew how he’s doing, if he’s okay, if he needs anything…” I trail off, tears pricking the backs of my eyes. 

“I’m sure he’ll contact you when he’s ready.  Maybe he just needs some space to work through his issues.  Maybe he doesn’t want you to contact him in jail.  He seems like the kind of guy who’s really proud and maybe he feels if you see him like that – in jail, I mean – then you’ll think less of him?”

“I would never think less of him,” I exclaim.

“
I
know that.  But, maybe
Kye
doesn’t know that,” she explains.

“Yeah,” I sigh.  “I better get back to work.  Enjoy your shakes.”

The rest of the day passes easily and I am kept busy with customers and then, when the shop closes, I clean for the night and make my way home.  When I curl up in bed, I do it alone, and I let the tears fall silently, just like I have every night since the night Kye left.