Depths of Lake (6 page)

“This will kill any bacteria,” he says, swabbing more onto the live tissue.
 
“He needs to have this on at all times.
 
I’ll come out each morning and check on it for a few weeks, but you’re going to have to put a fresh coat on every evening.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, my brows furrowing together.
 
“Aren’t you just going to stitch him up?”

He shakes his head as he continues working.
 
“The stitches would tear right through,” he says.
 
“Every time he takes a step, those muscles contract and flex.
 
The skin stretches with it.
 
He would rip right through it every time he took a step.”

“So we have to just leave him open like that ‘til it heals?”
 
The thought is horrifying.

“Afraid so,” he says.
 
“It’ll take a few months, but it will close up eventually.
 
Believe it or not, I’ve seen this before.”

“And the horse made a full recovery?” Lake interjects from behind.

Jesse nods, his eyes never leaving the injury.
 
“She had a nice scar, but yeah, she was just fine.”

“Shit,” I say when a thought comes to me.
 
“What am I going to tell the owners?
 
They’re going to be pissed.”

“You tell them,” Jesse says, “that animals are animals and that accidents happen.
 
You tell them that you did everything you could and that you’ll continue working with him when he gets better.”

“They’re not going to like that,” I say with a shake of my head.

“Not much more to be done about it,” Lake says.
 
I look back at him.
 
Once again, his eyes are impassive.

“You know what?” I say, my blood getting hot with the stress of the situation.
 
“Why don’t you go wait inside?
 
Those of us who know what to do with a horse will stay out here and take care of him.”

He looks at me for a long moment, not an emotion to be derived from his expression.
 
And then he turns and leaves, Chico in his wake.

“I take it the two of you aren’t getting along so well?” Jesse says as he finishes swabbing Troopers chest.
 

“It’s been a bad day,” I say.

“Hmm.”

Jesse spends another hour fussing over Trooper.
 
His hands are careful and gentle.
 
He’s efficient.
 
He’s good at his job.

The rain continues to pour outside as the hour stretches to a more diurnal one.
 
My stomach growls from hunger.
 
But I don’t leave.
 
I stay in the barn.

Finally, Jesse sits back, pulls his gloves off and looks at me.

“That’s all I can do for now,” he says.
 
“The shots I gave him should help him fight off any infection.
 
Keep the wound clean and keep him in his stall.
 
Try to restrict his movement as much as possible for the next week, at least.
 
And I’ll come by every morning to clean it and check on him.”

I bite my lower lip as the back of my eyes sting once more.
 
“Jesse, we can’t afford to pay you for daily visits.”

“Hey,” he says, putting his hands on my upper arms and pulling me just a bit closer to him.
 
“Don’t worry about it.
 
We’ll just say I’m a friend visiting a friend and checking on one of her horses as a favor.”

I gnaw on my lip again and my eyes drop away from his.
 
I don’t like accepting anyone’s charity, but when you don’t have the money, you don’t have much of a choice.

“Come here,” he says, pulling me closer and wrapping his arms around me.
 
“Trooper is going to be just fine.
 
You’ll get through this.
 
You’re one of the toughest, most bad ass chicks I know.”

I chuckle, my cheek pressed to his chest.
 
Something in my stomach loosens up a bit.
 
I sniff and wipe under my eyes just to be sure there’s nothing that’s escaped and betrayed me.

“I haven’t felt like a bad ass in a long while now.”

“Trust me, you haven’t stopped being one,” he says, squeezing me tight for a moment.
 
“We all stumble every once in a while.”

I let go of Jesse, and he takes his cue and does too.
 
I give him a little smile and take a step back.
 
“Thanks.
 
For a lot of things.”

He looks at me for a long moment, and I can see it all there in his eyes.
 
It’s just all so complicated.
 
“Of course.”

I help him gather up his things and look over my shoulder one more time at Trooper.
 
We helped him to lay down about twenty minutes ago when he got too wobbly to stand.
 
He’s still sleeping, and it sounds like he will be for a few more hours.
 
I follow Jesse out into the rain.
 
He stashes his things in the backseat of his truck.
 
It’s a big rig, and behind it, he has his horse trailer.

Which means he wasn’t sure how bad it was going to be, if he was going to have to haul Trooper off to his office, or maybe off to be disposed of.

“I’ll be back again tonight,” Jesse says loudly through the rain.
 
He waves goodbye and disappears into the truck.
 
I watch him turn around and disappear down the driveway.

Once again, I’m completely soaked through.
 
I’m still covered in mud and blood.
 
And I’m being drowned by the torrential rain.

I turn, taking stock of the condition of the ranch.

Small rivers run everywhere and huge puddles are forming all over the place.
 
But I’m surprised to find a fortress of sandbags set up around the house and the barn.
 
I hadn’t even noticed when I came out of the barn.

I look toward the garage and see Lake just finishing the barrier around the garage.

He looks up at me, and we hold one another’s gaze.
 
His brows are furrowed, his eyes serious and dark.
 
My insides are a mix of feelings.

I can’t deal with an apology right now though.
 
This morning’s events were too taxing and I just can’t.

So I turn and walk inside to take a shower.

CHAPTER FIVE

“I’m sorry I can’t be more help with this,” Mom says for the eighth time.
 
She puts the cheese into the pot and stirs it, looking out the window at the rain.

“Mom, just stop,” I say, rubbing my eyes.
 
I’m exhausted since I only got a few hours of sleep last night, and the events of the day have sapped the energy out of me.
 
And it’s going to be another long night.
 
I pulled out a cot and sleeping bag.
 
I’ll be sleeping in the barn with Trooper.
 
“It was pretty gross.
 
I nearly lost it myself.”

“Well, I’m glad Jesse could get here so fast.”
 
She continues to stare out the window.
 
The rain has slowed a bit, but it’s been coming down solidly all day.
 
“Would you go tell Lake that dinner will be done in a few minutes?”

I sigh, leaning back in my seat and stuff my hands in my pockets.
 
“I’d rather not.”

“Why’s that?” Mom asks, looking over her shoulder at me with a quizzical expression.

I try not to roll my eyes as I look away.
 
“I kind of yelled at him earlier.”

“Riley James,” Mom scolds, just as I knew she would.
 
“Lake McCain may be an employee, but he is also a guest at all times.
 
You need to treat that man with respect and remember what he did for our country.”

“I know,” I say, folding my arms over my chest.
 
“I was a bit…emotional,” I confess.

“Hmm,” Mom grunts as she stirs the soup she’s working on.
 
“Alright, you keep an eye on this for a minute, and I’ll go tell him.”

I climb to my feet and take the giant wooden spoon from her.
 
She slips on her rain boots and goes out the back door.

It takes a whole lot longer than it feels it should for Mom and Lake to come back in the house.
 
A solid fifteen minutes later, they both finally walk in through the back door.

“Remember that roofer we paid two years ago to fix the leak in the apartment?” Mom asks.
 
There’s venom and annoyance in her voice.
 
“Apparently he didn’t get the job done half as well as he should have.
 
Roof sprung a leak right over poor Lake’s bed.
 
Soaked everything.”

“Oh,” is all I say as I stir the soup.
 
The timer went off five minutes ago, and I took the bread bowls out of the oven.

“So Lake is sleeping on the couch tonight,” she says as she starts cutting the tops of the bread off and pulling the insides out.

“I’m sorry to be an inconvenience,” he says, standing there awkwardly by the back door like he isn’t sure what to do with himself.

“Don’t even start,” Mom says with a chuckle and shakes her head.
 
“It’s not like you made that leak.
 
Just God and termites.”

“I can go down to the hardware store tomorrow and get some new shingles,” he says.
 
“I’m pretty sure I can fix it myself.
 
I’ve helped my dad with a lot of stuff over the years, and I was pretty handy in the Corps.”

Mom looks back at him, something like uncertain admiration in her eyes.
 
“If you want.”

“I’d be happy to,” he says.

I’m pretty sure Mom has no idea that he already fixed the roof of the coop.
 
She didn’t ask him to and neither did I.
 
And I haven’t said anything about it.

We eat dinner quietly with very minimal conversation.
 
By the time we finish, it’s eight o’clock.
 
Mom makes up a bed for Lake on the couch and dismisses herself to take a shower and read in bed for a while.

I go upstairs, avoiding any alone time with Lake.
 
I change into some sweatpants and thermals.
 
I pull a hoodie over my head and grab my pillow.

Without even looking in his direction, I grab the sleeping bag and cot and head out to the barn.

It certainly isn’t the first time I’ve slept out here.
 
The first summer we lived here, I slept out here more than I slept in the house.
 
Another time we were having problems with neighbors’ dogs getting into the chickens.
 
Another, I simply needed to not be around people who knew the mistakes I’d made.

The air is heavy with moisture and the scent of horses and hay is comforting.
 
I drop my stuff beside Trooper’s stall and open the gate.

He’s still lying in the far corner of his stall.
 
His chest is a big sticky, orange-brown mess.
 
His eyes are still droopy and hazy from the sedation Jesse gave him.
 
His head keeps bobbing up and down every once in a while, like he’s trying to wake up, but keeps getting dragged back into the fog.

“Hey, buddy,” I say as I squat in front of him.
 
I place a hand between his eyes and slowly run my hand down his face.
 
It’s hard to believe that just a week and a half ago Trooper wouldn’t let me touch him.
 
Now he seems comforted by me being around.
 
Guess I should count my small blessings.

I pet him for a while, talking low and quiet to him.
 
His head eventually rests on the straw beneath him, but he looks at me, as focused as he’s capable of in this state.
 

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” I say, talking absentmindedly to him.
 
“And I’m really sorry Jesse couldn’t sew you up.
 
I’m going to do my best to keep everything clean and to keep the flies out of here.
 
We’ll have you back to normal in no time.”

I haven’t called his owners yet.
 
I’m dreading the conversation, and I want to watch how he does overnight and see what Jesse says in the morning.
 
He didn’t seem concerned when he came back just before dinner.

As Trooper’s eyes slide closed, I stand and walk back out of his stall.
 
Grabbing the cot that I’m pretty sure came from the Corps before Dad
retired,
I fold it out in front of his stall.
 
The sleeping bag looks warm and cozy when I unroll it, but I’m too stressed out to sleep yet.
 
I set my pillow against the wall and sit with my back propped up against it, watching the injured horse.

Chico and Bear trot into the barn and rush up to me.
 
I barely get a hand out and say the command of “down” before Chico tries to launch himself and his muddy paws onto my bed.
 
He stands at the edge, wagging his butt as fast as he can.
 
Bear’s tongue lolls out of his mouth and he pants loudly.
 
He looks like he’s smiling.

My eyes jump up when someone walks into the barn.
 
Lake stops just inside the entrance.
 
He’s wearing a pair of jeans, his usual work boots, a green military jacket, and a Seahawks baseball cap.

“Looks like you’re settling in for the night,” he observes.
 
He leans a shoulder against the wall and crosses his ankles.

“Looks like,” I respond.
 
I feel stiff and awkward.
 
I’m not necessarily a proud person, but I’m having a hard time forming an apology for being so rude earlier.

“I hope it’s not because of me being in the house.
 
I can sleep on the couch upstairs.
 
Raelynn just insisted I come into the house.”

“No,” I say, closing my eyes slowly and shaking my head.
 
“It’s not you.
 
I just thought I’d better keep an eye on him.
 
You know, in case we need Jesse or anything.”

“Right,” he says.
 

He stands there.
 
There’s something that always seems unsettled about Lake, like he can’t relax, or he isn’t comfortable in his own skin, and I can’t help but pity him for a minute.
 
Was he always like this, or was this the doing of war?

“Why don’t you sit down for a minute?” I offer.
 

He stands straight and walks over, relaxed and stiff at the same time.
 
Like he’s calculating each and every move he makes, every breath.
 
He sits on the cot, his back leaning against the wall, his right foot stretched out in front of him.

“I’m pretty sure I owe you an apology, about earlier,” I say, my throat thick with pride.
 
“I was being a bitch, and I’m sorry about that.”

Lake shakes his head just a little.
 
“No you don’t.
 
I know what stress does to people.
 
They say things.”

I look at him for a moment.
 
His eyes are somewhere in Trooper’s stall, but they’re glazed over, like he’s thinking about something far away.

“Still,” I say.
 
“I’m sorry.
 
I’ve been pretty frosty to you ever since you got here.”

“I understand why,” he says.
 
He reaches up and scratches at his jaw.
 
He looks like he hasn’t shaved since he got in.
 
A week’s worth of beard growth looks good on him.

I’m quiet for a while.
 
I’ve got a tangled pit of snakes inside of me, tight and twisted.
 
But I can’t let them stay there forever.
 
The venom will destroy me.

“I thought about joining the Corps, you know,” I say.
 
I’m not sure where I’m going with this, but it’s a peace offering, I suppose.
 
“Just after I graduated.
 
The red, white, and blue are in my blood, and to say I worshiped the ground my dad walked on would be an understatement.”

“Why didn’t you?” Lake asks.
 
He looks over at me, those complicated eyes meeting mine.

I shrug.
 
“Cause I felt like I was running away by doing that.
 
Running away from the ranch.
 
Running from other stuff that I needed to deal with.”

He looks away, to the stall again.
 
“A lot of people join
cause
they’re running away from something.”

“How about you?”
I ask.
 
“Is that why you joined?”

He doesn’t answer right away.
 
He reaches down and grabs a stray piece of straw and twirls it between two fingers.
 
Like I said, everything with Lake is calm and calculated.
 
“I joined to prove to myself that I wasn’t a worthless bad guy.”

Once again, the silence stretches between us for a while.
 
“That sounds like there’s a story behind that statement.”

“There is,” he says and leaves it at that.

I grab a piece of straw too and weave it between my fingers.
 
“You don’t have a whole lot to say about anything, do you?”
 
It’s a blunt question, but it’s how I am.
 
At least how I used to be.

Lake looks over at me, one of his eyebrows arching up slightly.
 
He shrugs.
 
“I’m not a complicated guy.”

We look at each other, and it almost feels like there’s a challenge between us, as if I should prove him wrong.
 
“Everyone’s complicated.”

“Not me,” he says before looking away.

Liar.

I realize then that everything about Lake, I can’t help but compare to Cal.
 
Cal was upbeat and likable.
 
Lake is quiet and standoffish.
 
Cal could talk and tell stories all night long.
 
Lake doesn’t say more than is needed.

Lake isn’t Cal.
 
So why do I keep comparing them?

Why does it matter, noticing the differences between them?

“What was it like?” I ask, trying to distract myself from my thoughts.
 
“Being in the Corps?
 
So much of my life has revolved around the Marines, but I don’t think I can really picture what it’s like.”

Lake shifts his position, trying to get more uncomfortable.
 
And it’s clear to see that me asking him such a question makes him uncomfortable.

“It’s not really something you can explain,” he says quietly.
 
And it’s almost as if I can feel him being pulled into another place.
 
A war zone.
 
Boot camp.
 
Some other terrible place.
 
“There’s the structure and the hard work.
 
There’s the training.
 
But being out in the actual field?
 
There’s nothing that can prepare you for it.”