The Lonesome Young (16 page)

“And you planned to tell me about this
when
?” my mother interjected coldly.

I didn’t give a crap about upcoming parties, and I couldn’t believe they were cold-hearted enough even to be talking about it right now.

“Caleb problem? Right,” I said bitterly, unable to help myself. “We wouldn’t want to tarnish our reputation with another dead ranch hand, would we? Is everything about image with you? Don’t you have one shred of compassion?”

“Your mother is going to have something to say about this plan,” Mom said. “New hands around the horses are going to spook them, especially if there are a lot of them, and you know as well as I do that everybody’s related to everybody around here, so there are bound to be a lot of distant cousins to the Rhodales working in our barns.”

“Not to mention that people will
lose their jobs
,” I told my cold-hearted mother. “In this economy, we’re going to put people out of work just because of who they’re related to?”

“If it avoids stress, it’s good for the horses,” Dad said flatly, and I knew he’d go through with it. When he got that tone of voice, a dirty deed was as good as done.

“Your mother—” my mom began, but he cut her off.

“She’ll do what I tell her to do,” my dad said, refilling his glass and taking another gulp of bourbon.

Right then, I almost hated him.

He pointed at me. “You. Stay away from Rhodales. Do your damn homework. Go buy a party dress for the Founders’ Day Dance. And, if you must, research rehab facilities. We’ll figure the Rhodale thing out by ourselves.”

I stood up, shaking my head in disgust. “Since when were we ever able to figure
anything
out by ourselves?”

Before he could change his mind about Melinda’s rehab, I ran out of the room. One win at a time: it was all I could manage.

Chapter 20

Mickey

D
usk spread her vivid colors across the sky as I pointed the Harley down the pavement, trying to find some clarity in the open road and the roar of the wind in my ears.

I was riding around aimlessly, trying to ignore the urge to go back to Victoria’s, pound on the door of the damn mansion, and find out if she was okay. I’d tried calling, but her phone went straight to voice mail every time, and I didn’t want to call the house phone, because it would probably get her into even more trouble with that jerk of a father of hers.

Asshole fathers, problem siblings—we were turning out to have a lot more in common that I’d ever thought possible.

When I got hungry, I stopped for a burger that I couldn’t even taste, and then I gave in to the impulse that had been riding me all afternoon and evening. Within half an hour, I found myself on the road that bordered the Whitfield ranch, and I called myself six kinds of fool. There was no way Victoria would want to talk to me now, after everything that had happened today. I should head for home.

A shimmer of movement in the darkness off to the right caught my attention, and somebody came into view, riding one of the glossy, expensive horses that probably had cost more than my entire house. Somehow, I
felt
it was
her before I could even really see her. Victoria was racing across the field like a wild thing, like she was part of the horse, not just riding it.

I pulled my bike to the side of the road and parked it in the deep shadows cast by the trees, where the moonlight didn’t penetrate. I walked over to the fence, content simply to watch her.

She was beautiful. Her hair shimmered like silver in the moonlight, streaming out behind her as she rode. She was like a princess in a fairy tale.

But I sure as hell was no Prince Charming.

I’d been kidding myself to think that I’d ever have a chance with Victoria Whitfield. I took one long, last look at her and steeled myself to go, but then the horse stumbled. Victoria flew through the air, and I started running. By the time I reached her, she was sitting up, and the stupid horse was ambling along, munching on grass, completely unconcerned that she’d nearly given me a heart attack.

“Mickey? Where did you come from?” I couldn’t ignore the way her face lit up, and something wild inside me settled, calmed.

I dropped to my knees next to her, looking for blood or broken bones.

“I was riding my bike, and then I saw you, but I was leaving, and you fell—forget that. Are you okay?”

I tilted her head up with one hand under her chin, examining her face for bruises or signs of injury.

She smiled. “I’m okay, I think. I didn’t hit my head, and I’ve taken enough spills over the years to know how to fall. I think I might have twisted my ankle, though. I’m more worried about Heather’s Angel.”

I bared my teeth at the horse, who was clearly fine. “You
ought
to be worried about her. She could have hurt you. There would have been a glue factory in her future if she had.”

Victoria shuddered. “Don’t even joke about that. Anyway, she’s walking fine, so I’m not too worried. I’ll be able to check her out thoroughly when we get back to the barn. Can you help me up?”

I put my hands on her waist and lifted her up off the ground, holding tightly and supporting her weight in case her ankle was bad. Or at least that was the reason I gave myself for not wanting to let go. It was nothing at all to do with the way she smelled like sugar and sunshine, or the way I’d spent the past week with a perpetual hard-on, wondering what her lips would taste like in the moonlight. What her body would feel like underneath mine.

“You’re kind of my own personal hero,” she said, laughing a little. “Rescuing me the night I met you, rescuing Melinda, rescuing me from this fall—how are you even possible?”

“I’m no hero. I’m just somebody in the wrong place at the right time,” I said.

Her smile faded. “Is near me always going to be the wrong place?”

I wanted to kiss her. I
needed
to kiss her, more than I needed to think or talk or breathe. I leaned closer, but she stumbled a little, wincing when she put weight on her injured ankle.

“Ouch. Yeah, I wrenched it. Not too bad, though. I’ll be able to get home on my own. It would be better—”

“If the big, bad Rhodale didn’t take you home twice in one day,” I said bitterly. “Yeah. I know. The best thing for both of us would be if we forgot we’d ever met, wouldn’t it?”

She looked up at me, and I fell, drowning, into her wide green eyes, which were almost silvery in the moonlight.

“You promised not to do this. Is that what you really want?” Her voice was a whisper, and I couldn’t tell which answer she wanted to hear, so I just told her the truth.

“No, that’s not what I want, but what I want isn’t sane or reasonable. I want to spend all my time with you. I want to know why I can’t sleep without dreaming about you. I want to kiss you until you can’t remember a time before you met me.”

She took a deep, shaky breath, and then she put her arms around my neck. “Then kiss me again. Because even though I’m hardly brave enough to admit it, that’s all I want, too.”

Chapter 21

Victoria

Y
ou are brave, you know. You stood up for me, today. With your father,” he said softly, staring into my eyes. “Nobody ever did that for me before. Don’t think I’ll forget it.”

I couldn’t help it. The expression of pain that flashed over his face caught at something inside me, and I was powerless to resist him, so I kissed him—the gentlest touch of my lips to his.

Before I could retreat, he put an arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him. He angled his head and deepened the kiss, and suddenly it wasn’t gentle anymore. Summer lightning storms had burned through hayfields with less heat and power.

I didn’t even try to resist. I let myself sink into the moment, surrendering to his demand. Somehow I felt safer with his strength surrounding me than I’d felt in so long. I couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think—couldn’t run away and, for once, I didn’t even want to try.

My entire body was trembling by the time he raised his head from mine. Stunned, I looked up at Mickey, wondering how one kiss could have shifted the entire world. As if suddenly Whitfield County, Kentucky, had turned into fairy-tale land, and a nerdy, smart girl had turned into a princess.

He was breathing hard, and his eyes were wild, reminding me of nothing so much as a racehorse that had been completely and utterly spooked.

“I think we’re in trouble,” he said, his voice rough. “There’s no way I’m going to stop wanting to kiss you now, after that.”

I touched shaky fingers to my lips. “This is moving way too fast, and both our families are against it, and there are so many problems—”

He kissed me again, and I stopped thinking, stopped breathing, and stopped feeling anything but him. I was pressed up so close to him that I could almost feel his heartbeat. When he finally raised his head, I didn’t even try to offer any more protests.

“This is going to be dangerous,” I said, conceding my surrender.

“You’re worth it. And I’ll make sure that any danger doesn’t come anywhere near you,” he said, his dark eyes gleaming.

Angel suddenly lifted her head and nickered, and I realized I could hear Pete yelling my name in the distance. He was probably riding out toward us.

“You have to go,” I said, panicking. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

He kissed me again, and then he lifted me up onto Angel. “You can count on it.”

I headed back toward the barn, my lips tingling and my head spinning so much I could hardly feel any pain in my ankle. Dangerous had probably been an understatement, but Mickey was worth it, too.

By the time Pete reached me, I was able to pretend to be completely calm. I told him Angel had stumbled, and concern for the horse outweighed any suspicions he might have had about why I was dawdling out in the fields so late.

I talked to him, focusing on the conversation with one part of my mind, while the rest plotted out how I’d find ways to spend time with Mickey. I must have missed something Pete had asked me, though, because I realized he was giving me a strange look.

“Long day?”

“The longest,” I said, smiling so brightly I think it made him nervous. “But tomorrow will be
wonderful
.”

I hoped.

Chapter 22

Mickey

I
smelled like sweat, gas, Cheetos, and fried pig skins. It wasn’t an appetizing aroma.

The bell over the door rang, but it was only my boss.

“You leaving already?” He glared at me, holding his arm in its cast protectively close to his chest. He’d broken it trying to find something in the hoarded-out nightmare he called a storage shed.

“I was supposed to clock out an hour ago. You need to find us more help,” I said, wiping my face with the bottom of my shirt.

“I’m trying, but nobody wants to do an honest day’s work,” he grumbled.

“Nobody wants to work for
you
, you mean,” I countered.

“Aw, get out of here. And don’t be late next time.” He stomped off, but I knew he secretly liked it that somebody actually stood up to him. Or, at least, he’d never fired me for it, even on the days that I wished he would, which were usually inventory days, like today.

I washed my hands and headed home. All I wanted was a hot shower, a big dinner, and a chance to call Victoria in case her idiot father had finally given her phone back after taking it away for her “bad judgment” of letting me drive her home.

If he ever found out I’d kissed her, he’d probably ship her off to boarding school in Switzerland.

But as I pulled up to my house, my mood plummeted straight down past zero, because Pa’s sheriff car was parked at a careless angle behind Ethan’s truck. As far as I knew, Ethan hadn’t been back to my house for six years, so something big must be going on. With Ethan, something big always meant something bad, and my first instinct was to turn around and avoid the situation altogether. Let him and Pa shout it out.

Then I saw that my mother’s car was there, too. I couldn’t leave her to deal with the two of them, especially if Pa had been drinking again.

I heard the shouting when I was only halfway across the yard, so I started running.

They were in the living room, and Ethan was up in Pa’s face. “And don’t you think he’s going to come after your job next? You’re up for election next year. Don’t you think Whitfield is going to throw his money behind your opponent?”

“He doesn’t have any money,” Pa shouted at him. “Why do you think he had to move back here in the first place?”

“Whitfields always have money. You think he doesn’t get to take over the ranch when his mother kicks it? Maybe he’ll push her along toward her casket a little quicker. I wouldn’t put anything past a Whitfield.”

Mom came out of the kitchen to intercept me when I started toward them.

“No, Mickey, please stay out of this,” she pleaded, but I didn’t stop.

“What is it about this time? Why can’t you just leave the Whitfields alone, Ethan? That old feud is ancient history—what did they ever do to you?” I grabbed his arm to pull him away from Pa, and Ethan whipped around and shoved me, hard.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Didn’t your girlfriend tell you about their newest asshole move?” He advanced on me, fists clenched, but I stood my ground.

“What are you talking about? And why are you even here? I figured you’d be too busy selling drugs to the rest of Coach’s family to make social calls,” I said bitterly.

“Yeah, I heard about that. Want me to pay him a little visit and get you back on the team?” Ethan’s eyes gleamed, and I wanted to punch him in the face.

“No, you psychopath, I don’t. That shit didn’t work when I was a kid, and it’s not going to work now. Just stay the hell away from me.”

“I’m not here about your football problems, asshole. You couldn’t listen to me, could you? I told you to stay away from that little bitch, but you had to play the knight in shining armor,” Ethan said. “Well,
Dick
Whitfield retaliated. He talked to his employees today and went down a list of everybody he’d found out was in any related to a Rhodale and fired their asses. Every single one of them. Said this would teach the Rhodales to mess with his daughters.”