Josiah nodded. “I am. I’m not rushing anything. She’s still trying to find herself again. I just wanted you to know that I plan on being the one to help her.”
“Fair enough.”
“There’s another thing.”
“And that is…?”
“Rob.”
“What about him?”
“He’s zeroed in on her, and I don’t like it. His focus isn’t the healthy kind.”
“You think she’s in danger?”
“I think he’s unpredictable and it’s possible.”
“This is his last chance, Josiah. I’d hate to take that away from him without any proof.”
“You can’t save them all, Billy,” he said softly. “And I’d hate for her to get hurt.”
“I don’t want her hurt either. We’ll have to be more careful. Vigilant. I’ll let Red and Bentley know. You continue as you have. Keep her with you as much as possible. Rob’ll be gone by June. That’s about ten months away.”
Josiah nodded and promised to keep an eye on the situation. He also promised Billy that he’d keep him apprised of any changes. He hoped, for Billy’s sake, that things would work out all right. That Rob would toe the line. But he didn’t trust the seventeen-year-old, and he could see it coming, could see a confrontation with Rob was looming on the horizon, but now was not the time. Josiah would have to be extra vigilant and on his guard. And when the time came, he’d be ready.
A Darn Good Reason
Crimson Sage
TWO MONTHS. IT DIDN’T
seem possible that I’d been here for two months already. Two months was not that long, then again, it was a lifetime. It was hard to believe that it had been a little more than two months since my parents had died. But this was the cold, hard truth I found myself facing as I headed to the barn in search of Josiah.
Ethan had adapted much better than I had. He and Billy were close, and I was glad of that fact. Billy continued to try and reach out to me; I was hesitant of him, unsure. Maybe it was because we’d just met, but I couldn’t seem to make that firm connection. Billy was on the periphery of my emotions and trust.
I found myself looking to Josiah for guidance, however. Which sort of shot my whole, we’ve-just-met-and-that’s-why-I-don’t-trust-him philosophy regarding Billy all to heck. I’d actually known Billy longer. And yet, it was Josiah I looked to. Josiah I trusted. Josiah I turned to. And this in spite of the fact I’d been telling myself repeatedly that I couldn’t afford to let him in or let him come close despite my near-constant fantasies. To allow him to draw close meant danger; it meant I could be hurt again. Not the same kind of hurt as losing my parents or finding out the truth about my past, but painful all the same. Devastating even. There wouldn’t be any pieces to pick up. If something ever went wrong between us, Josiah would be the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. And I couldn’t afford that. For Ethan’s sake, or mine.
It was Friday so Ethan had early release. He rode the bus now with the others boys from the ranch. I wanted to drive him and pick him up, but he said he wanted to ride with his friends. So I had taken a deep breath and let him.
I glanced toward the driveway and grinned when I saw Daisy. She was lying down in the shade of the fence, her gaze focused toward the road, waiting for Ethan to come home. Ethan had kept his side of the bargain and cared for Daisy as he’d promised. Daisy and Ethan had bonded quickly and she adored him; she was completely loyal to Ethan and pretty much worshipped the ground he walked on. When Ethan was home Daisy was his shadow and constant companion.
Josiah was another one Ethan had become close to. Ethan looked up to him, copied him. Almost hero-worshipped him. But then again, a lot of the boys did, with the exception of maybe Rob and Adam, who though they really never challenged Josiah, still had a look of contempt on their faces when he was around. I nearly mentioned it to him several times, but Josiah never seemed to mind.
He didn’t take crap from anyone. He seemed dangerous to everyone. Everyone but me. Unless you were referring to my libido. Then he was plenty dangerous. I wasn’t the only one who noticed either. Everywhere we went he exuded this completely confident, almost alpha-like presence. Men treated him with respect, or he stared them down until they did. Women were intrigued by him; I saw the longing looks they gave him, the jealous looks they gave me. I couldn’t blame them really. I’d been doing my best to ignore the fact that Josiah was one of those wild, sexy beasts a girl just couldn’t seem to help herself trying to tame.
I shook my head as I spotted him. He was loading that lumber we’d bought last week into the bed of the old Chevy. It looked like we were fixing fence again today. And he looked hotter than I had any right to notice. His shirt was already clinging to his tall frame. Sweat glistened on his arms and neck. He acknowledged me with a grin once he spotted me and said, “Grab that bucket of nails and the hammer, will ya?”
I swallowed and nearly choked my throat was so dry, and told myself to get my mind off that broad back, those biceps, those lips as they grinned at me, his voice as he spoke. Turning quickly away from him, I grabbed the two buckets he indicated then carried them to the truck, keeping my eyes on the ground. Anywhere but on him.
Josiah held his hands out for the buckets. I set one down at my feet and used both hands to lift the other up to him. He took it with one hand, squatted down to make it easier for me to lift the other to him, and then stood with both, like it was easy. Like they weighed nothing. I marveled at his obvious strength and tried to calm my pulse.
I spied the keys on the tailgate, quickly grabbed those, and said, “I’m driving.”
I needed to keep my mind focused and was hopeful driving would offer that relief. Josiah didn’t say anything; he just climbed in beside me in the passenger seat. Despite the fact he’d been sweating, he smelled good — mouthwatering, really. “Where to, Boss-man?”
“We’re on the road today. Head north.”
I did as he said, and after about fifteen minutes he told me to pull over. There on the side of the road were the remnants of what had once been a fence. The whole scene, with bunches of tangled wire, the upturned earth, along with bent and broken posts scattered about looked fairly recent, like someone had just plowed through it — in a car, or truck, like they wrecked. My throat tightened for a moment and I fought to keep my emotions in check.
“When did this happen?” My voice sounded low and little hoarse to my own ears. I hoped he wouldn’t notice it.
Josiah scratched his chin and replied, “About two weeks ago, I guess.”
“Why are we just fixing it now?”
Two weeks seemed a long time to let this go. I knew we’d kept the horses up close to the house for the last couple of weeks and I was guessing this was why; I just didn’t know why we hadn’t dealt with it sooner.
“Billy thought it’d be too soon. I told him I thought you’d be fine. You’re strong.”
My gaze flew to Josiah, but he was already stepping out of the truck. I wasn’t strong, though. I was weak and afraid. Still. Any courage I managed to exude came directly from Josiah, and I wondered how he couldn’t see that. After a moment I followed him and we got to work. I tried to keep my focus on the work we were actually doing — fixing fence — and not the reason behind it.
We worked steadily for about two hours, clearing away the debris and loading it into the bed of the truck. We were both sweating now and we’d already stopped once for a water break. Today it seemed harder than ever for me to keep my mind off Josiah, to not see him as a man. Maybe because he was an easy distraction from the evidence of the car wreck we were fixing, because looking to him when I felt threatened had become habit. And maybe it was because Gracie had asked me several times about him now, ever since my slip to her a few weeks back. And due to her pestering I’d given her a pretty decent description of him and her response had been, “Whoa. He sounds
hot
. Like really hot. I need a pic.”
“No! I am
not
taking a pic of him. How would I explain that?”
“Are you kidding? Do it when he’s not looking.
Duh
.”
“I can’t.”
“And why ever not?”
“Because he’ll see.”
“He won’t if you do it when he’s not looking.”
“He’s always looking, though.”
I shook my head at myself now for telling her that. Gracie then dived in, wanting to know more. Claiming he must like me. I’d told her I had to go. And now I haven’t answered her texts since Monday. This morning she’d sent one that said, “Fine. You win. I’m crying Uncle. Don’t send me a pic. Why would I need to know exactly what your hottie boss-man looks like? It’s not like we’re best buds or anything.” I’d chuckled at that and sent her a pic of Josiah from a distance, as he walked away. Even if she blew it up she’d never be able to tell a whole lot about him. Her reply had been a pic of her dog’s poop.
Josiah was using the post-hole digger now and I was standing by with said post, waiting to drop it in the hole. I watched his muscles bunch and flex, almost mesmerized by their movements.
“What’s up?” Josiah asked suddenly, never stopping his work.
I jerked and felt heat, that had nothing to do with the sun, flood my face. “Nothing,” I rasped and then cleared my throat.
“You’ve been staring a hole in my back for the last ten minutes. You got something to say, just say it.”
Actually I’d been staring at him for closer to twenty minutes, but didn’t feel the need to disclose that to him. I wracked my brain for something to say, some explanation to offer for why I couldn’t take my eyes off him — other than the truth that despite my best efforts, I was extremely attracted to him. Darting a glance around, my eyes settled on the broken posts we’d pulled out and suddenly I found myself talking about my parents. How they’d died. What I’d learned in Mom’s diary.
Josiah listened silently, just let me get it all out. Every painful detail. He was quiet for several minutes once I was done. We’d finished digging all the holes by the time my tale was complete. I waited for him to look at me in horror, in pity. He didn’t. Josiah just continued working, instructing me how to hold the wire, how to keep it taut. My heart lodged tightly in my throat when, as I began to lose my grip on the wire — it’d begun slipping in my hands — he stepped up behind me, pressed against me with his chest to my back. His arms wrapped around me, gripping the wire on either side of me. Pulling it. Tightening it. His breath was on my neck, in my hair. His thighs pressed against mine.
For a brief moment I forgot what we were doing. I just stood there. Taking in all those sensations. Letting each and every one register in my body and my head.
Josiah was quiet for a moment then he said, “Tighten that down some Crimson, or we’re gonna have a serious problem here.” His voice was low and a little rough sounding in my ears.
What?
What was he saying? Josiah then nudged my arm with his shoulder. The arm he meant me to use. The one I needed to use to tighten the wire that was slipping.
Oh. Yeah, right. The wire.
He stepped back after I’d finished that and without a word turned to the truck. He lifted the small ice chest out, set it on the ground, opened it, and tossed me a bottle of water.
We both drank deeply, heavily, not stopping until we’d each finished a bottle. He shot me a grin and said, “Lunch.”
We found a spot, under a scrubby pine, and sat down to eat. I was nearly finished with my sandwich when he said, “It’s got to be a good feeling… knowing someone wanted you despite the pain they experienced on your behalf. No one ever wanted me until Billy came along.” He paused a moment and took a drink of water. “I hated everyone. Especially my parents. They never wanted me, did what they could to get rid of me, and when Billy told me he wanted me, I called him a liar.”
This was one of the first times Josiah had told me anything about himself. I knew he’d gone through the program. Had graduated from it. But I hadn’t known what brought him here. I looked around taking in everything as far as I could see. I could just glimpse the top of the house, the barn. As I let my eyes trail along the fencing, down the drive, down the road to where we worked, it occurred to me that Billy might have done all this, gone so far out of his way to help those who needed help because he’d been unable to help his own daughter.
“It must be because he’d turned his back on Mom,” I told him, indicating with a nod the ranch around us. “I think he was trying to make amends, do the right thing.”
“He was. He is. You need to forgive him. He loved your mom. He thought he was doing the right thing at the time.”
I didn’t want to talk about me anymore. “What are you, his lawyer?” I snorted.
“An observer. He wants you, too. He loves you, Crimson.”
I knew I was the one who began this conversation — I’d spilled my guts, shared my awful past with him — but I no longer wanted to talk about Billy or my past. I looked away briefly and then right back at him. Josiah’s eyes were on me — those piercing blue eyes. I abruptly changed the subject, needing to be on firmer ground, “What are your tattoos anyway?”
Josiah grinned, his gaze intently fixed on me, then asked, “Are you trying to get me to take my shirt off?”
I blushed and stammered, “
No!
I… I just wondered is all. Keep your clothes on.”