Finders Keepers (21 page)

She sniffed and shook her head. “I can’t. They’re swelling
shut.” She choked on another sob but managed to keep the rest of them back.

That explained why I couldn’t see anything more than a
sliver of her. “Hey, hey,” I said, trying to soothe her with my words, my
hands, with
anything.
“Where’s that brave girl who just issued the slap
heard around the country? Where’s my strong girl who just took a swing at a guy
twice her size?”

She fretted with my shirt, laying the rips and tears back together,
buttoning the buttons that had come undone. “A lot of good me being brave and
strong did to save you.”

I adjusted my head until the sliver I saw of her was her
eyes. Mine might have been swelling shut, but she could still stare back at me.
“You have no idea how much good you’ve done to save me, Josie Gibson. Don’t you
ever doubt that.”

Josie let those words simmer for a moment, then she rolled
her shoulders back, wiped her eyes, and wove her arm through mine. “Let me help
you up.”

“Thanks”—I shoved off the ground, letting her guide me
up—“because I don’t think I’m capable of doing it on my own.”

When I was up, Josie wrapped one arm around my waist and
lifted my arm over her shoulders. “Was that you admitting you need help and
actually accepting it?”

“It just might have been,” I admitted, shuffling beside her
as we made our way to my truck. Being vertical and moving doubled the pain, but
Josie’s arm around me, supporting me the whole way, dulled it somewhat. When we
made it to the passenger door, she opened it and guided me inside. After
shutting the door, she hurried around to the driver’s side and leapt inside.

Firing the engine to life, she glanced over at me with an
expectant look. “Buckle up, buttercup.” That made me laugh. Which made me
wince. “I’m serious. I’m not putting this truck into drive until you put your
seatbelt on. We didn’t make it this far for you to die all because you refused
to buckle up.”

If she wasn’t so dead serious, I might have laughed again. I
reached for the belt and snapped it into place. I attempted something that was
meant to be a
Happy?
expression, but given my face probably looked like
a team of plastic surgeons had gone to town on me, I don’t know what I managed.
It made Josie smile. So fuck the rest. Making her smile, that was my new life
calling because really, what else mattered?

“Thank you.” Shifting the truck into drive, she peered over
at me. “Buttercup.”

I snorted. “After taking that beating from the Masons, I
feel like a damn buttercup.” God damn, where was a morphine drip when I needed
one?

“I’m sorry, Garth. I should have seen that coming. I
shouldn’t have been so stupid. I know what those boys can be like when they get
together. Then mix alcohol . . . and
you
into the tornado, and that’s
like the perfect storm right there.” Josie pulled out onto the highway slowly,
carefully. The last time she’d driven slowly was when she was
never
. She
really was worried fate was about to deal us an unfair hand.

“Don’t apologize for them. If you spend your whole life
apologizing for other people’s actions, you’re going to wake up and realize you
didn’t get to do anything on your own to apologize for. Live
your
life.
Don’t waste it apologizing for others.”

Josie glanced at me from the corners of her eyes, keeping
both hands firmly on the ten and two position on the steering wheel. It was
kind of cute how careful she was being. Concerned. There was that word again.
“You just took a few hits to the head, and you’re capable of that kind of
profoundness?”

“Was that profound?” One of the few serious questions I’d
asked in twenty-one years.

“Deeply.”

“For me, right? Deeply profound for Garth Black, who is
known for being so deep he dries up the instant the temperature rises above
eighty.”

Josie rested her hand above my knee. Gently. “Deeply
profound for anyone. I know you want to deny it, but I know there’s a whole lot
more to you than a big, black hat and an even bigger ego.”

“I don’t know, Joze.” I covered my hand with hers, but when
I noticed it was caked with both dried and fresh blood, I pulled it back. I’d
made a big enough mess already.

“But I do.”

“Yeah, you sure do,” I whispered, twisting in my seat to
stare at her. My eyes were swollen, my body wrecked, my brain weary, but in
that moment, I needed to do only one thing. One thing I needed to
say
. I
knew that even if I wanted to keep it back, I couldn’t. Besides, I’d been
holding it back for long enough. “Josie?” I cleared my throat and reached for
her hand again. Yes, I might cover it in blood, but I’d clean it for her later.
I’d fix my mess.

“Yeah?” she asked, her eyes focusing on something in the
distance. I was opening my mouth to finish what I’d been meaning to say for
years when she groaned. “Ah, crap. The lights are all still on.” She looked at
me. “My parents are up.”

The disappointment of biting back what had literally just
been on the tip of my tongue was painful, but how could I follow
My parents
are up
with what I needed to say? Yeah, I couldn’t. I had to close my eyes
to focus and shift gears. Josie’s parents. Up. Late. Me. Her. Blood. “Do you
want me to sneak in or something? I could just wait outside until you all go to
bed and then sneak in.”

“What? No. Way.” She snapped her head back and forth,
slowing the truck a bit as she headed up the driveway. “I’ve got to get you
inside, cleaned up, fixed up, pain reliever’ed up, and to bed. That’s the
priority, not evading my parents and their questions.”

I took a breath. I hadn’t been planning on explaining any of
the night to the Gibsons. The drive-in earlier or the gas station parking lot
later. “What do you want to tell them?”

Josie’s hand reached for mine. “The truth.”

I smiled right before I frowned. “I’m not sure telling your
parents that you and I are together right after I walk through the door looking
like a herd of cattle ran me over is the best timing.”

“I want to tell them. I’m sure now.” As we approached the
Gibsons’, she parked right outside the front door to give the newest member of
the gimp club a break.

“You’re sure of me now?”

“I’m sure of
us
now.”

That right there was all the fix I needed. Josie looking me
in the eyes and admitting she trusted me enough to give us a chance. I’d been
waiting for that moment for a while. It left me speechless. Josie opened her
door and rushed over to help me get out, but I clenched my jaw and slid out on
my own. I didn’t want the minute before Josie told her parents that I was her
man to involve her having to wait hand and foot on me because I’d taken a
serious beating.

Instead of draping my arm around Josie for support, I
grabbed her hand. “Let’s not tell them it was the Masons. Let’s just tell them
I got jumped and go with that.”

“What? Why in the heck don’t you want to tell them it was
the Masons?”

“Because I don’t want anyone getting in trouble. At least
not the sheriff kind of trouble.” Me on the other hand? I would be happy to
show them plenty of trouble for a long, long time.

Josie gave me a look, knowing there was something else.
“And?”

I sighed. Might as well go with the theme of our crazy-ass
night. “And even if I did tell them the truth, do you really think they’ll
believe me? Do you really think they’ll believe that their precious, perfect
Masons would do this? They’re not going to believe the truth, so I might as
well give them a watered-down version of it.”

“They better believe it when the same story comes from their
daughter’s mouth because so help me—”

I caught a glimpse of Mrs. Gibson peeking through the lace
curtains in the living room. “I don’t want them thinking I’ve influenced or
corrupted you so much that you’d lie with me. If we go in there with the whole
truth, that’s what they’ll think. That I’ve manipulated and ruined their
daughter.”

“Garth . . .”

“Please, Josie.
Please
.” We started up the stairs,
one step at a time. She didn’t have a chance to reply because the door flew
open when we were climbing the last step.

Mrs. Gibson’s face blanched. “Oh, dear sweet Jesus, what
happened?” Tilting her head back, she hollered, “Harold! Harold! Get in here
now!”

Super idea. Why don’t we just wake a sleeping bear? Rousing
Mr. Gibson in the middle of the night almost worried me more than Clay when he
jolted awake at night.

“Mom, it’s okay. Calm down. Don’t wake Dad up if he’s
already in bed,” Josie said, helping me through the door.

Mrs. Gibson scooted back, staring at me with wide eyes. I
hadn’t seen what I looked like, but I didn’t need to. The way I felt told the
story. Mrs. Gibson looked between the two of us. “Josie—”

“What the hell happened?” Mr. Gibson finished his wife’s
sentence as he lumbered down the hall. Given Mr. Gibson was a big guy and had
one hell of a grumpy expression, we really had woken a sleeping bear. “Well?”

Josie peered at me, then answered, “Garth was attacked.”

They must have been so preoccupied with gaping at the train
wreck I was that when Mrs. Gibson finally glanced at her daughter, she gasped.
“Josie, your face.” Mrs. Gibson rushed toward her, examining it more closely,
before covering her mouth and shaking her head. “My poor baby. He drug you into
this, too?”

At first I thought she was talking about Colt—since he and
his brood were the ones responsible—but when I saw her eyes look my way with
accusation, I knew she was talking about me. As expected.

“No, I drug myself into this when I got in the way of a
fist,” Josie replied in a heated voice. “Garth did everything in his power to
keep me out of it and safe.”

Mrs. Gibson didn’t need to say it, her eyes bled it—
Sure,
he did
with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Let’s get some ice on that, baby.”

Josie exhaled loudly. “Mom, no. Look at us.” She waved her
hand between her and me. “I’m not the one who needs ice. Or a little human
decency, for Christ’s sake.”

“Josie,” Mr. Gibson broke in, “you might be twenty-one and
an adult now, but you are still under our roof and that is your mother you’re
talking to.”

Josie’s hand grabbed hold of mine as she stared at her dad.
I don’t know how he managed to keep his shoulders high, let alone keep looking
her straight in the eye, with the way her eyes were leveling him. “And this is
my boyfriend you’re talking to. I’d appreciate it if you’d show him the same
amount of respect you show everyone else.”

I don’t know whose face looked more shocked: mine or Mrs.
Gibson’s or Mr. Gibson’s. Wait, I take that back. Mrs. Gibson definitely won
the most-shocked-face award. From the way she looked, Josie might as well have
just told her she was going to jail for life.

Having me as a boyfriend . . . Going to jail for life. . . I
supposed to Mrs. Gibson, they were one and the same. Mr. Gibson, though? He
just stared at our entwined hands with a vacant expression, seeming at a loss.
That made two of us.

“Yoo-hoo? Earth to Dad and Mom?” Josie snapped her fingers a
few times. “There’s a man bruised and bloodied in your foyer. This isn’t really
the time for open-mouth gawking. Since it looks like I won’t be receiving a lot
of help, I’m going to get him fixed up.”

We didn’t make it two steps before Mr. Gibson stepped in
front of us. “Josie, time to go to bed.”

Josie’s face went red in barely two seconds time. “I’m not
going to bed when there’s a person under our roof who’s in need of serious
medical attention.” I gave her hand a squeeze, trying to calm her, but she
wasn’t having any of it.

“I need to have a talk with Garth. Man to man.”

“Then you can talk with him in the morning,” Josie argued.

“It can’t wait until the morning.” Mr. Gibson crossed his
arms, looking as determined as I knew Josie was.

It might not have been the best time, but he was right. Mr.
Gibson and I needed to talk. I’d imagine a father like him had plenty to
discuss with me. Especially when I came through the front door hand in hand
with his daughter after midnight looking like I was walking death. Turning to
Josie, I tried to smile reassuringly at her, but my mouth wasn’t working quite
right.

“It’s okay, Joze. Why don’t you get some ice on that cheek,
head up to bed, and your dad and me will talk. I’ll see you in a little while.
A little while as in the morning,” I added when Mr. Gibson’s eyebrows raised.
“I’ll see you soon. In the morning.” As expected, Josie whipped her head from
side to side. “Please?” I lifted my hand to her face. “You know how hard it is
for me to say that. One please every decade ought to be worth something.”

She sighed, still shaking her head. “Fine. But not until
you’re bandaged up and changed.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Garth’s a tough guy—he’s a
bull rider after all. He’s used to a few bumps and bruises,” Mr. Gibson said.
“I think he can wait fifteen minutes before having his boo-boos fixed up. Isn’t
that right, Garth?”

If the tension in the air hadn’t been so thick, I might have
chuckled when the word
boo-boos
came out of Mr. Gibson’s mouth. “This is
nothing.” I gave a dismissive wave. “I’m fit for a full day of ranch work right
now, so a little manly conversation will be a walk in the park.”

“I’ll wait for you on the porch.” Mr. Gibson stopped in
front of Josie and studied her face. He stroked her cheek gently then kissed
the top of her head. I didn’t miss the sideways look he shot me as he headed
out the front door.

“I’m fine,” I said as Josie opened her mouth. “If I was in
his shoes and my daughter came through the door with a bruise on her face, I
sure wouldn’t be talking to the guy who was responsible for her.” I pressed
closer to her and stroked her cheek with my thumb. “I’ll see you later, okay?”