The Terms of Release (26 page)

He’d also put in three applications that morning, so he needed to talk to Jim about the reference calls he was fixin’ to get.

Man, was he dreading that. He and Jim had an uneasy peace right now, which mainly meant they were talking through Grace’s desk and text messages.

Sage was settling in at the house, mostly. It felt a little like having a houseguest, more than a live-in. All Sage’s clothes were new from the Walmart, the man’s toiletries were from the hospital. Hell, even Penny’s dog bowls still had tags on them. Poor guy. Adam hurt for him every time he watched Sage pull out a too-stiff pair of jeans or hunt a movie that wasn’t there anymore.

There was a tiny ball of rage, right in his belly, that wanted to explode, rail at God about how Sage had paid enough, damn it.

They needed to get through the funeral. He needed a new job. Everything was in flux. And there was Jim. “Hey. Got a minute?”

His uncle looked exhausted, old, and for a second Win thought the man would blow him off, but Jim just nodded. “Sure. Come on in. Is there any coffee, Grace?”

“You bet, Sheriff.” Grace bustled around and got them coffee and a big plate of cookies.

“Such a mom,” Win said, settling across the desk from his uncle.

“I keep saying I’m going to retire when she does.”

“I can see that. She’s the glue in this place.” He straightened the seam on his pants.

“What is it you want, Win? Everyone’s too busy to cause trouble.”

Win raised his brows. “I’m not here to bitch, Jim. I need to tell you that I’m looking to get a job somewhere else. I hope you can give me a good recommendation.”

“Where are you looking to go?”

“Down toward Fort Worth. Maybe out Stephenville way. I applied for the state too.” Sage’s parole officer had a judge willing to sign off on a move to anywhere in state. What did the old song say? Anywhere but Here?

Jim sighed softly. “You’re one hell of a cop, man. One hell of a cop.”

“Thanks, Jim. That means a lot.” It did. He hated asking what he was about to ask, as tired as Jim looked. “Ellen Redding is moving too, but Rosie is taking over the farm. She needs…. Teddy needs to leave it be, Jim.”

“I know. The man’s just… he ain’t right.”

Win stared a moment, reading Jim’s face. Then he nodded, relief sharp in his belly. “No, he’s not.”

“Losing a kid messes with folks. I ain’t going to apologize for him. He’s my brother.”

Win tried not to grit his teeth. “I’m not asking that. I am worried that he’s gotten dangerous, though. He attacked the Reddings in the hospital, you know? I know I haven’t made it easy, getting involved, but this has to stop.”

“Yeah. I know. I’ve spoken to him—about leaving both Redding women alone.”

“Have you?” Not that Angel’s dad would give up if he was that bad, but who knew? Jim was the law. It might work. “Thank you.”

“I’m not a fucking monster. I got no beef against Mrs. Redding.”

“I know.” No, that was all reserved for Sage, who represented the shame in Angel’s dirty little secret.

Sucked to have a meth-addicted homosexual slut in the woodpile. He snorted out a chuckle before he could stop himself.

Jim looked at him, eyebrow arched. “You know, you’ve always been a shit.”

“I know. At least I didn’t say what I was thinking out loud.” He shrugged. “I appreciate all your help. Jim. I do. I know it’s hard.”

“I just want this fucking drama to cease. Tornados, beatings, hell, I found a fucking hydroponic tank deal at Cooter William’s place.” Jim was building up a head of steam, face red. The man was at the end of his rope.

“I hear you,” Win said. “I’ll be here at least a few more weeks, maybe a month. I’ll still be helping with cleanup.”

“I’ll start looking around for a replacement too.” Jim sighed. “You’re going to take the Redding boy with you, aren’t you?”

“I am. Does this get me uninvited to the Memorial Day picnic at the lake?” He had to tease. He’d had a good relationship with Jim once.

“Probably. I don’t know how to explain that to folks.” Jim looked him right in the eye. “All I got is my reputation, Win. What you and Sage are…. What do you want me to say? It ain’t natural, to look on another man like you look at a woman. No amount of numbers is going to make that right, but if you don’t flaunt it, no one will bitch. It’s hard to not know about the Redding boy.”

Right. Because Sage was a rainbow-waving prancing queen. Christ. Win shook his head, knowing that was how it was. He’d known that about his family from the time he was old enough to know he was queer at age fifteen. “We’ll stay out of the way.”

“I’ll not stand in your way. Go on now, and get your paperwork done.”

“Thanks, Jim.” He stood and shook his uncle’s hand, feeling like he’d just slammed a big old book closed.

There was some sadness, but not as much as he’d thought. He had his momma, Ellen, Rosie. Hell, he had Sage. Penny. How long had it been since he’d had a dog?

He found himself walking past his desk, heading out to his truck, thoughts swirling like mad in his brain. He had his radio. If they needed him, Grace would put a call in.

Win headed home, where Sage was waiting, where their dog was. He wanted to see Sage’s face, make sure the man was eating.

Get a hug and some silent reassurance that….

He turned the corner onto his road and immediately started growling. Sage was taking out the trash. Limping like crazy. The damned doctor had said no physical labor. None. Not some.

Not a little.

None.

Zero.

Zilch.

He pulled up and hopped out of the truck, about to tease that Sage was under arrest for not following doctor’s orders. Good thing he opened his mouth after he thought that might be a shitty joke.

Sage looked over at him and smiled. “Adam! I saw your neighbors had their cans out.”

“Well, thanks, babe. You shouldn’t be out working. Doc said.” He walked over and grabbed Sage’s hand.

“I wanted to make sure they were out. Are you home for lunch or the day?” Sage looked a little hysterical at the edges.

“I told Jim I was looking for another job. I think he’s happy to give me a day. I have my radio.”

“Oh, good. I didn’t know what to do in there by myself.”

“No?” He let Sage lean on him, the warm weight of his pocket cowboy perfect.

“No. I hate being useless and I kept thinking.”

“Thinking is dangerous, babe.”

“No shit on that.” There was a book on the little table beside the chair and a cup of coffee. Someone was bored out of his mind.

Not that Win could blame him. “You want to watch a movie, babe? Something else?” He scratched Penny’s ears. “Go for a ride?”

“Can we just go, Adam? Just somewhere not this goddamn town for a cup of coffee and a burger?”

“You know we can, baby. Let me change.” He’d go in civvies.

“Okay. Thank you.” Sage was holding onto his shit with both hands, Win could tell. Barely. Like clinging with his nails.

“Hey, you’re not used to being cooped up, huh?” Well, he guessed Sage knew all about cooped up, and that was the problem.

“I don’t feel trapped. I just don’t know what to do.” Sage shrugged. “My schedule’s blown to shit.”

“Well, yeah. I don’t have a lot to feed.” He winked, heading for the bedroom, which was neat as a pin. “Babe? My jeans were on the floor.”

“I washed them. They’re in the closet.”

Washed. Dried. Starched and pressed. Like George Strait. Lord.

“Well, then I ought to wear my boots.” He laughed, thinking how his mom had tried to get him into this look for years.

“I like the way the boots make your butt look.”

His cheeks heated, his pleasure at the way Sage looked at him making him worried his jeans wouldn’t fit.

“You know, babe, washing and ironing jeans is work.”

“Hmm?” Sage looked about as innocent as he could, which, really, was not very.

“Just be careful, huh? You’re important.”

Sage beamed for him, at him. God, Sage was like a parched desert when it came to affection. Good thing Win had a lot of it to spare.

“How do I look?” Win asked.

“Like I wish my knees were better so I could show you how good you look.”

“Oh.” That was…. Sage could knock him over with a feather sometimes.

He got a grin and a wink. “My jeans aren’t going to look as good. They’re baggy.”

“I’ll give in on the jeans if you forgo the boots, babe.”

“I have tennis shoes. I don’t think my feet fit in my boots yet.”

“Cool.” They got all dressed, and he took one more kiss. “Ready to go?”

“I am. Penny’s got water.”

“Good deal.” He stayed close to Sage, not wanting those knees to give out.

Sage got to the truck, climbed up carefully, face paling some.

Win kept his mouth shut for the moment, but he was watching carefully. If it got bad, they’d eat in the truck or something.

Sage settled and sighed softly. “I think they’re getting better.”

“Absolutely. You’re moving a lot easier.” It was true, even if he worried.

“Yeah? You can tell?”

“I can. You’re limping a lot less, and you’re more sure your feet are under you.”

“You’ll be there tomorrow, right? All day?” The question came out of the blue.

The funeral. That had to be weighing on Sage’s mind. “Yeah. I will. I got the day off already.”

“I want to go out to the ranch in the morning before everybody heads there after the funeral. I haven’t seen it, and I don’t want to be shocked in front of people.”

“Okay, babe.” Shit. He hadn’t even thought about that. Tonight wasn’t the time, though.

“Thank you.” Sage reached out, fingers brushing his thigh. “Drive, Adam. Let’s go let the wind blow.”

He nodded, rolling the windows down in the cab. Anything to make Sage smile like that. “You got it.”

Like the song said, the road was made for people like them.

S
AGE
SAT
on the edge of the bed in a pair of new jeans, the new black jacket on his aching knees. He’d forced his swollen feet in his boots, and he kept swallowing past a lump in his throat that wouldn’t go away.

He wasn’t sure if he was more dreading the funeral or going home. He’d never had home be where Daddy wasn’t, and he wasn’t sure he could face it. He wasn’t sure he could see the house, broken and different, see the front porch and know that it was there—right there—where his daddy had been home for the last time.

No wonder Momma had said she was going to stay over to June’s.

Adam poked his head into the bedroom, hair still wet and combed back ruthlessly. “Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?” Adam came in and sat next to him. Adam had already talked to the sheriff about not wearing his uniform.

“I will be. Probably. My boots don’t fit no more.”
And my daddy is gone, and I have to stand up in front of people that hate me like it don’t matter.

“They’ll fit again. Mine are bigger, if you want to try them.” Adam knew, right? He’d lost his dad.

“I think if you pull them off, I’ll hit you. I got them on.” They were never coming off.

“We’ll have to put your feet in the freezer to get them off.”

“There’s another blue norther coming. Been a cold bitch of a fall. I’ll just sit outside.”
Please, God. Let it be tomorrow soon.

“You’ll do no such thing.” Adam reached out and hugged him.

“I’m glad you’ll be there.” What else could he say?

“I’m sorry you have to do this at all.” That warm body all along his side felt good. Right.

“God, me too, but I don’t reckon we have a choice.”

“Nope. You need to be there for your mom. Everyone else can take a flying leap.”

“Okay. I guess we should go to the ranch so I can see.”

“Yeah.” Adam stood and helped him up. “Rosie’s had the crew working night and day.”

“Yeah. I should be there helping.” He just… hadn’t.

“Rosie would have made you sit and drink iced tea.”

Sage chuckled. Rosie was getting her bossy on these days. “Rosie’s so swollen everyone’s being nice.”

“Could be.” Adam widened his eyes comically. “She is like a house.”

“Uh-huh. We’re going to be uncles, and Momma’s betting on twins.”

“Twins?” Adam blinked. “Oh, man.”

“Rosie says no, but Momma’s… Momma.”

“Moms know.” Adam reached out and hugged him. “Come on, babe.”

“Yeah.” He forced himself to walk to the truck without limping or mincing. It took some damned hard effort too.

It was still easier than looking at his parents’ house when Adam pulled up.

Oh God.

It was standing—hell, it looked good. But it wasn’t home.

The porch was gone, the paint was different, the windows in the front were different. One of the barns and his trailer were gone. Just gone.

Sage sat there, staring, his brain trying to understand what was breaking his heart.

Rosie came out to stand on the step, staring at him, her eyes looking almost bruised. She would know. Understand.

“Hey.” He didn’t reach for her, because he didn’t have an ounce of comfort to spare, not even for her.

“Hi.” She offered a ghost of a smile. “Momma’s here.”

“Okay.” He made himself walk to the house, made himself do this because he was a grown man and his family needed him. “How are the horses?”

“Good. Only Wednesday got any real injuries, and that was splinters. She’s all patched up.”

“I should go see them.” Anything rather than going inside.

“Take Adam. There’s still a lot to clean up.”

“Yeah. You and Momma need me to do anything?”

“Go see your fucking horses, Bubba. Adam, I swear to God, I will unman you if you let him so much as touch the tack.” Rosie rubbed the small of her back. “Chance? Can you make coffee, baby?”

Baby? Huh.

“Sure.” Bulldog’s mechanic friend waved from right inside the screen door.

Go Rosie.

“Hey, Sage. I…. Hey.”

“Yeah, go make coffee before you get hurt.”

Chance disappeared, and Adam came to take his arm. “They have the horses temporarily in the old lean-to, babe.”