River's End (River's End Series, #1) (18 page)

He cleared his throat, and answered gently, “Erin, where do you think you’re going to go?”

“I noticed a couple of trailer parks in town, and they only wanted five hundred a month.”

“Yeah, for the worst ones. You hate the ranch that much?”

She looked up at him and her eyes were fierce. “I love the ranch. I mean I love this area, the river, the mountains, but I can’t stay here on your charity and crumbs.”

“Has something changed about your situation since yesterday?”

She shook her head.

“Then where is that coming from? I told you could stay here, and I meant it. You don’t cause trouble, you don’t try to steal from us, and you’re not taking up any space I need. So I don’t care how long you stay.”

She stood up and started pacing. The living area was only six feet long, so she came close to him as she turned around and paced back.

“What’s going on? This about what Charlie did today? He’s sorry. He doesn’t understand about being discreet. He didn’t realize he should have kept it to himself.”

Erin stopped with her back to him and her head sunk. “I don’t blame him. It’s not his fault that I’m too stupid to read a third grader’s poem. Or that I have no money, no skills, no family, no home, no clothes, and no life at all, really. Or that the only reason I’m not homeless right now is because of the charity of his father.”

Jack felt his hand twitch and he wanted to reach out, and touch her shoulder. Just to touch her. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t. He would never. Not only did she live on the ranch, which automatically made it a terrible idea, she’d already slept with his brother, and therefore, was the worst possible candidate he could think of for himself as a date.

“What does this have to do with riding a horse today?”

She turned around. “Everything. If I stay here, I’ll embarrass you, or your brothers and your boys. People are already talking, and no doubt, wondering why I’m still here. They probably are discussing which one of you I’m fucking. But then, I deserve that, don’t I? That’s why I was only ever allowed to stay here, wasn’t it? And now? I’m sure it’s known to the entire valley that the stranger staying with the great Rydells isn’t only a slut, but a stupid slut.”

Jack’s eye twitched. He had no idea what to say or how to even begin to respond to her remark. He dropped his hands to his side.

“Okay, yeah, they talk. They’ve talked since you showed up, Erin. There are only a few thousand people in this valley, including those living in town, so a place this small, tends to hear a lot of talking. You’ve never lived in a rural, small town. Everyone literally knows everything about his or her neighbor. They knew about Joey from the night you spent on the beach with him. What do you want me to say about that? You were there. So they talk. They weren’t wrong either, now were they? Anything that happens here, even as small as a paper cut, gets gossiped about. But I don’t remember the last time I actually paid any attention to it.”

She went completely still at his voice and finally glanced at him. “Do you remember the night you walked me across the yard in the dark?”

“Yeah. So?” he asked as he shifted his weight and felt uncomfortable with her sudden scrutiny on his face. He shouldn’t have said anything to her. At the time, however, he thought she’d only be a temporary visitor and not a fixture on the ranch.

“You asked me why I didn’t expect more for myself, from Joey, or the men I was with.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“No one ever said that to me before. Not one person ever told me I should expect more for myself. My mother never once said anything like that to me. I started sleeping around when I was sixteen years old, Ben’s age, and my mother never once said, ‘don’t do that, Erin.’ She knew I had the boys over. And she knew I did it because I felt so stupid. It was a way to make them like me. They made fun of me during the day, so I fucked them at night. Doesn’t make much sense, does it? But I thought it did. And she never once told me not to do it. No one told me otherwise. It never even occurred to me to expect more until you said that to me.”

Jack shifted the weight on his feet and didn’t know what to say. It seemed wrong. It seemed to be the key to Erin. Suddenly, her sleeping with Joey didn’t seem as wrong as it did before this conversation. Now it almost seemed tragic.

“I’m not the kind of person you want to have around your kids, Jack.”

How Jack wished Lily were here. She’d know what to say to Erin. She’d know how to counsel a girl whose entire self-esteem seemed to depend on how he reacted to her right there, right now. Lily would understand why a girl had to sleep around. Jack knew why boys did. He would know what to say to Ben or Joey about such a conversation. But he didn’t know what to say to Erin.

“I decide who gets to be around my kids. I did keep you away. Now, I don’t. Take that as you will.”

She frowned. Then her eyes rose up to meet his. He really had no idea what to say or think, much less, what Erin thought. “I don’t understand you,” she finally said quietly.

He nodded. “That’s okay, because I don’t understand you either. Now do you want to learn to ride a horse today or not?”

She stared at him before a slow smile started across her face. “Yes, I’d like to learn to ride a horse.”

“Good. Then let’s get to it, I have a lot more to do still today.”

****

With that, Erin began her first horseback riding lesson. Jack told Ben to hold the horse by his bridle and keep him still. Jack talked her through, once again, all the basics he taught her so far about riding a horse. There were a lot of small details, and he made her repeat all the answers to the questions he posed. He taught her so thoroughly, she knew all the fundamental basics inside and out. Now, she just had to execute all of them, starting with climbing into the saddle.

She managed to get up onto the saddle, but was slow to let Ben start walking to lead the horse. It all came very slowly for her. After several hours, she finally did an entire circle with no help from Jack, Ben or Charlie, and with her horse under her control. When she made it all the way around, both father and sons clapped, whistled, and cheered for her. They all stood leaning against the rails to watch her. She brought the horse to a complete stop, and finally looked up when she broke her concentration. She grinned maniacally, and her heart felt like it might explode in her chest.
She’d done it!
She rode the horse, and not only that, but she’d done it correctly and while in complete control. She knew she still had a long way to go, but she was in a place she never thought she’d get to. And all because of the patience Jack showed her over the course of a month, using time he didn’t have to spend with her, and patience he didn’t have to teach her.

They came over, and waited for her to dismount. Jack held the horse as Ben and Charlie both jumped around, smiling as happily for her as she did for herself. When Charlie hugged her waist, she eagerly hugged him back and high-fived Ben. Ben had been bringing a girl in his class home often to hang out with him. His crush on Erin seemed to have faded completely and he now regarded her purely as a friend.

Jack grinned at her over his boys’ heads. She smiled back, her heart rate suddenly racing at his visible pleasure with her achievement. Seeing the way his eyes held hers, and seemed to grow warm watching her, she had to turn away. She didn’t know exactly why, except that the heat she felt inside confused her, and the excitement he set off in her gut didn’t make any sense in her mind. She could barely hold his gaze these days because of the strange new reaction in her chest.

Mother’s Day dawned a beautiful sunny day, with the highs predicted in the eighties. The valley and land were lush with new green leaves and grasses growing tall and full. The pine trees sparkled in the morning dew and the air smelled spicy, of fresh dirt and pines, a scent Erin never quite grew used to. It felt so invigorating and pure, almost as if she were breathing an exotic perfume, and not simply the country air.

She dreaded today and knew it would be hard. She woke early as usual. Sundays and Mondays were her days off at the coffee stand, but her regular, three-thirty wake up usually intruded onto her days off all the same. She watched the sunrise change the sky into pearly colors of peach and orange. It shadowed the mountains in dark, inky lines as the day slowly began to bloom from behind them. Stretching slowly, like a cat, the warm morning rays drew minute-by-minute closer to where she sat on the steps of her trailer, watching.

It was about eight o’clock when she spotted movement at the ranch house. She stood up when she saw all of the Rydell brothers walking along the porch, trailed by the kids. They were all dressed up: each wearing slacks, a buttoned shirt, and clean, polished cowboy boots. Jack even wore a tie. She stared from her trailer steps, still clad in sweat pants and a baggy sweatshirt.
Where were they all going?

Sunday.
She supposed they could be going to church, although she didn’t know if they ever went. Perhaps today, being Mother’s Day, was why they chose to attend. She almost called out, but refrained. It wasn’t her place. Besides, if they did happen to invite her, she had nothing appropriate to wear.

She watched them piling into two trucks and pulling out. The dust ballooned around them, and slowly settled back. Dust seemed to be everywhere lately, and Ben informed her that it would last until next October. That soon, Ben predicted, the temperatures would become so hot and uncomfortable, she’d wish for overcast days without the hot, scorching sun. She, however, doubted she would ever wish for that. And if Ben had ever spent the months of September through July in Seattle, she had no doubt he’d agree.

She felt dejected today. Much more so than usual. Although she never felt good about herself, what with squatting on the Rydell land, wearing a bikini for work at a coffee stand, still hopelessly illiterate and stupid, while accepting all her material needs as charity; today, she felt much worse than she usually did.

She knew, of course.
Duh.
It was the first Mother’s Day that should have technically meant nothing to her. She had no mother and could ignore Mother’s Day just as easily as she spent her entire life ignoring Father’s Day.

She dropped her head onto her drawn-up knees, feeling too depressed for words. Though her mother certainly wasn’t the best, she was still
her
mother. Lorna Poletti was only sixteen when she had Chance, and eighteen when she had Erin. Both children had different fathers. The only reason Lorna didn’t proceed to have another half dozen kids or more was because she wisely had her tubes tied.

Erin could remember her mother continuously having boyfriends over, one right after the next. And when one didn’t work out, her mother cowered in her room for days, refusing to eat, and sleeping all day, while crying all night. Erin quickly learned to stay out of her mother’s way at such times and provide for herself. She couldn’t remember a day when she did not have to fend for herself. From the time she started the first grade, she had to get herself to the bus and home again.

Then, inevitably, after her latest break-up, Lorna always decided they should move. Somehow, that managed to fill the void that always seemed to consume her mother when she was mateless.

Erin didn’t understand her mother’s condition until she was older. She suffered from debilitating depression and manic highs. Erin suspected her mother suffered from bipolar disorder. But her mother refused to seek help or treatment. So they continued to live in this strange, twisted cycle. Sometimes Lorna was crazy fun and wonderful to have for a mother. They did wonderful things together, like taking off in the middle of the night to look for “magic.” Erin didn’t realize until she was a bit older, that the “magic” was really her mother scoring some street drugs to make her feel better. But when Erin was just a kid, they were enchanted journeys that left her mother smiling, as she pretended all the street signals and streetlights were fairies and angels.

Every time Lorna crashed into depression was usually when they decided to move again. She couldn’t hold any job for very long, and they were never well paying. Erin lived on welfare as long as she could remember. She had nothing then, just as she had nothing now.

When Erin hit third grade and still couldn’t seem to grasp the basics of reading; in fact, she couldn’t recognize most of the alphabet, her mother always reassured her that it didn’t matter. Erin was different than other kids, and special. She alone had “magic.” Erin, however, knew she wasn’t special. She was just stupid. So she began her campaign to hide it. With each new school, she learned how to compensate for it temporarily. After she was discovered, and her well-meaning teacher called her mother in to discuss what they should do, her mother simply yanked her from school and kept her home until the next school, where it would all start over again.

Lorna never really cared that Erin couldn’t read. As Erin grew older, Lorna simply did all of her reading for her. At age sixteen, when Erin totally dropped out of school to work, Lorna filled out all her paperwork. She worked until February which was when Lorna killed herself.

She shuddered as the images refilled in her head. Her mother. Dead. Her mother in the car, lifeless. She closed her eyes and re-experienced herself crying, shaking, and screaming at her mother. But Lorna, for once, didn’t reply.

Tears started to fall down her face. She stood up, and started toward one of the ranch roads. She zig-zagged over the fields and ended up along the river. The river lay thirty feet down the bank with boiling rapids. It was where the Rydells had their private cemetery. Erin had seen it, but never ventured very close. Today, however, she felt bad and morbid enough to wander through the gate. Looking around, she saw a dozen tombstones that were raised up in perfect, perpendicular lines. Many of the dates on the gravestones went back to the mid-eighteen hundreds. Erin glanced towards the opposite end, where the most recent additions lay: the Rydells’ parents, and Jack’s wife. Erin stared at the headstone. Lily Marie Carter Rydell, Wife, Mother, Beloved. She died over five years ago.

Charlie would have been three, and Ben only ten. Jack would have just been thirty. That seemed so young to be widowed and alone, having to raise two boys, along with Joey, who would have been just fifteen at the time.

Erin sat down on a stone bench near Lily’s grave. The river sparkled like a new quarter in the sunlight. The air was soft and comforting, as the sun’s rays warmed her face. Erin closed her eyes. It was so quiet, she could hear the insects in the grass, as well as the birds twittering in the trees. It was the most peaceful spot she could think of spending her time today.

Tears tipped over her eyelids again. She never had a moment’s peace in her entire childhood. Not while living in the chaotic, transient, volatile world that reflected her mother’s emotional turmoil.

Yet somehow, she landed here. Here with Jack.

Her eyes opened.
No.
She was here just to be here. This beautiful spot. She was ensconced in the quiet security and peace that the land provided, and the mountains embraced, and most of all, the kindness of the entire Rydell family.

She shook her head. This was not a good day for her. All the grief from her past felt thick in her lungs. She felt like someone laid her down and piled a ton of river rocks on her chest.

She stood up suddenly when she heard a strange noise. Coming down the road were Jack, Ben and Charlie. She cursed softly. Of course, they would come here today. Mother’s Day had to be as bad for them as it was for her. Sometimes, her shortsightedness and selfishness stunned even her.

Jack looked completely different than she’d ever seen him. He wore black dress slacks with a light blue, button-up shirt. He’d taken his tie off, undone the top buttons at his throat, and untucked the ironed shirt. Still, he looked different. She’d only ever seen him in jeans, t-shirts, flannels, and worn boots. His red hair glinted under the sun in deep auburn and blonde highlights. He was rarely without a hat, and she nearly stepped back in shock. He looked younger than usual.

She bit her lip. She should not have come here. Not today. Not while they came to pay their respects to their wife and mother. She only came there because she sought the ambiance of the cemetery for her unfettered grief. Now she just looked weird and morbid.

“Erin.”

Erin smiled as Charlie came running up to her. In the few days since the Tea at his school, he decided she was his friend. He always had bright smiles and good cheer when he spotted her. He often joined her while she tended the horses or went to the beach.

“Hey,” she said, smiling at Charlie, and casting a weary glance at Jack. He couldn’t possibly be glad that she was there.

Ben came towards her, looking like a younger, fresher version of Jack with his own dress-up clothes. He leaned down and put the pink roses he carried on top of his mother’s grave. Erin stepped back, which resulted in her stepping into Jack. She instantly pushed herself away from him and jumped to the side.

“I should go.”

“Why do you have to?” Charlie asked as he came nearer and slipped his hand into hers. She looked down, feeling as startled as if a bee just stung her. Her heart melted at Charlie’s small, clammy, boy hand in hers. He was looking at his mother’s grave with an expression of confusion. It must have been hard to grieve for someone you couldn’t remember.

Jack’s gaze was on her profile, and dropped to where his son held her hand. She finally turned her head to him, fearing the scorn she expected to find on his face.

“Enjoying the vibes?” he asked finally.

She frowned at him. His tone and facial expression were utterly neutral. But she saw the slight tic at the corner of his mouth. He was just kidding. Unbelievably to her, Jack was kidding while she stood near his wife’s grave, holding his son’s hand.

She shook her head vigorously. “It seemed like the place to go today.”

He nodded. “I get that.” He stepped forward, dropped to a knee, and lay down the single red rose he held in his hand. His head bent into the gravestone as his lips moved silently. He was praying. Ben, too, held his head down, but Charlie merely stared out towards the river.

Jack straightened up and walked a few feet over, where he lay the other bouquet of wild flowers on top of his parents’ grave. She noticed he didn’t bend over them with quite the sickening gravity that he did with his wife.
God, what a burden.
Losing both his parents and his wife. The man literally looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. And how did he respond to his newfound responsibilities? By becoming the most capable, accountable, dependable, caring, stable man she’d ever met. She couldn’t even manage taking care of herself with any kind of decent, sustainable consistency. By the time Jack was her age, he’d already been running a ranch, raising three young boys, while supervising his other two brothers. The clashes in their life patterns were staggering, and their choices of how to deal with their lives were just as drastic.

It depressed her to realize what a pathetic, disappointing slacker she was in comparison to someone like Jack.

She glanced at Ben and saw tears streaming over his face. He wiped them with his knuckles, pressing hard into the sockets of his eyes. He obviously didn’t want to cry. Erin’s heart twisted for him. The poor kid. He remembered what Charlie never knew.

Erin itched to put her hand on Ben’s shoulder, but she knew that he was furiously scrubbing his tears so that she didn’t see them. The last thing she should do is acknowledge them. Jack seemed to get that too and walked over towards Ben. He raised an arm and wrapped it around his son’s shoulders. Ben’s head was within inches of Jack, but neither man said anything. Charlie didn’t join them, and only held more tightly onto Erin’s hand. She squeezed it back.

Finally, Ben hung his head as he nodded to something Jack said to him quietly. Then Ben straightened up, and smiled abashedly at her. His eyes were red-rimmed. She ached to reassure Ben not to be shy or embarrassed. She found him much sweeter, kinder, heart-wrenching, and more impressive for grieving over his mother than if he merely stood there, uncaring, and displaying raw teenage ambivalence.

Ben glanced at Charlie. “Hey. Wanna go pitch some rocks in?”

Charlie nodded eagerly and they started off together through the cemetery, skirting around the fence and down towards the river. Erin watched them leave, glad they were getting space from all this, but also intensely aware she was now all alone with Jack at his family’s cemetery. It wasn’t just odd, it was wrong.

“I should have realized you’d come here today. I… well, to be honest, I wasn’t thinking how hard this day would be on you guys too.”

Jack looked down at the grave in front of him. “Today sucks. But we’ve had a few years to practice. It’s pretty fresh for you. It’ll get easier next year.”

She didn’t expect his kind understanding. “You’re not mad I came here?”