Bad Boy Rancher. Karen Rock
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“What about Jesse Cade?” she blurted, her mind zooming back to Justin.
Neither he nor his family had contacted her about admission. Given his impending sentencing tomorrow, did his silence suggest he’d chosen jail over the clinic?
Clearly, he wasn’t ready for therapy’s hard work. He’d refused to thank her for helping him or admit he’d endangered his life. And with more protest letters to the editor appearing in this morning’s paper, the last thing she wanted were resistant, negative residents during her center’s opening. He didn’t see the program’s benefit and refused to be saved.
So why did she still yearn to do just that?
She’d helped save his life already. The night on the side of the road, when he’d stared up at her dazed and confused, his body bloodied and battered from the impact. In that moment he’d reminded her of the soldiers who’d arrived at her army base on stretchers, crying in pain, asking for their mothers, their girlfriends, their kids. Yet Justin had requested no one, a lone wolf like her, without someone to turn to who’d understand the pain. Was their collision a sign she should help him, despite her reservations?
Her mind whirled, circling a dark hole; she made it stop and tuned back into her phone conversation.
“I believe he’s precisely the reason some locals are concerned,” the mayor said.
“They’d rather act like problems don’t exist than get people the help they need?”
“I’m sure it’s not as drastic as that. More a lack of understanding.”
She sighed. Lord. Give me the strength. “When is the meeting?”
“Next Wednesday at 8:00 p.m. in the town hall.”
“I’ll be there. Thanks.”
Brielle hung up and drummed her fingers on the side of her glass, making the ice cubes clink, her mind in overdrive.
Would her tenure at Fresh Start end before it began? Her chance to help others cut off again? The questions twisted in her stomach. She pressed her palms together, rested her chin atop her fingertips and eyed the dog tags. This time she wouldn’t leave quietly. Or easily. She was stronger now, able to bottle her dark emotions and fight for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves.
She’d made little headway with Justin Cade, but she’d do everything in her power to sway the rest of Carbondale.
No matter what it took.
* * *
“PLEASE, JUSTIN. GO to Fresh Start.”
Justin pulled his mother close in a quick hug. Her scent, lilac mixed with something powdery, rose from her neck and made his nose itch. He breathed in the familiar fragrance then forced himself to let her go. She had better things to worry about than him.
“I’ve made up my mind.” He dropped to the living room floor beside the family’s obese tabby, Clint, and rubbed his round belly. A fire, the first of the season, crackled in the floor-to-ceiling, two-story stone hearth. Javi’s train set and miniature village, once his and his brothers’, dominated a corner of the open living space.
“Wanna play with me?” Javi waved a piece of track.
“Sure.” He crawled over to join his nephew. “Looks like you’ve got some major remodeling going on, bud.”
“Yeah. I’m making room for the Halloween parade.” Javi ripped up more track.
“Like the one here in Carbondale?” His mother perched on the edge of the couch, her knees pressed against their glass-topped wagon wheel coffee table.
Javi nodded; his tongue poked through the gap between his front teeth the way it did when he concentrated.
Justin grabbed a handful of tiny plastic pumpkins and set them in front of the miniature buildings. “Are you going to change it up this year or go as Batman again?”
Javi’s dark eyes rolled up at him, exasperated. “Everyone expects me to be Batman.”
“You don’t have to do what people expect.” Justin balanced a couple of pumpkins on some church steps.
Javi pointed a connecting track piece at Justin. “Yes, you do.”
“Why is that?”
Javi shrugged. “So you don’t hurt anyone’s feelings.”
“What about your own feelings?” Justin grabbed a couple of musty, pint-size hay bales from a Ziploc bag and stacked them in front of the town hall building.
Javi frowned. “I like Batman.”
“Got it.”
“You’re gonna break Grandma’s heart if you go to jail,” Javi said offhandedly as he realigned the tracks to circle his tiny town.
“Javi,” cautioned Sofia, joining them.
Justin stole a quick look at his ma and caught her wiping her eyes with her sleeve. The sight struck him like a punch in the gut. Sofia stopped at the edge of the sofa, pinwheeled her arms, then collapsed onto the cushions with an oof.
“I’m as big as a whale,” she laughed.
“A blue one,” Javi shouted. “Because they’re the biggest! Mrs. Penway told us.”
“Tell Mrs. Penway thanks,” Sofia observed drily.
“And she’s hugely beautiful, too,” James called from the kitchen. He shed his coat and hat, strode around the granite island, then paused to kiss the top of Sofia’s head.
“Emphasis on the huge.” Sofia exchanged a tender smile with James that filled Justin with a strange sense of longing. He’d never be loved like that. Not that he’d let anyone close. He’d had and lost his better half. No one could occupy that spot again.
“What’s that behind your back? Is it a present?” Javi abandoned the train set and flung himself at his stepfather. James dropped a bag and caught Javi in a bear hug.
“More dresses for our little one?” Sofia passed Javi a light-up Batman mask then held up a glittery pink garment.
Something twisted in Justin’s gut. He’d miss seeing her and James’s child born while he was behind bars. A couple months ago, they’d revealed the baby’s gender—a girl, rare in his male-dominated family. Jewel, who could outride, outrope and outshoot any of her brothers, was the least feminine of any of them, especially pretty-boy Jared.
Since then, James had compulsively bought tiny dresses, flowered headbands, ruffled hats and lace socks with ribbons, each item frillier than the one before. The nursery resembled the inside of a Pepto-Bismol bottle, the walls practically oozing pink. The house hummed with hope and joy, leaving Justin feeling at odds whenever he entered it. He no longer fit in with his family—if he ever had. His head drooped.
“This one has rhinestones,” James protested.
“So do about twenty of the other dresses you’ve bought her.” Sofia smoothed a hand over her stomach.
“Those were sparkles and some had sewn crystal beads. Big difference.”
Justin had to give it to James—he considered himself the absolute authority on just about everything, from bioenvironmental engineering down to the trimmings on a child’s dress.
Sofia and his ma exchanged amused glances, and Justin’s throat constricted. What did happy feel like exactly?
He couldn’t remember.
“Yeah, big difference,” exclaimed Jewel as she swept down the open spiral staircase from the loft above the living room. She’d freshened up some from this morning’s cattle drive, her hair tucked back into her usual braid and her dusty Wranglers swapped for a cleaner pair. “Don’t know why you’re trying to ruin your daughter with all this girly-girl stuff.