AlmostHome

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Authors: India Masters
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for his fries.
Messy burger, tidy plate. “So, you think there’s any truth to what Conner said?
About your pa getting out soon?”
    Haley was about to take a bite of burger. She held it in the
air, hand shaking, hating that her fear of Kent Kilpatrick was so visible.
    “Lord, I hope not.” She took a bite then set it carefully on
the plate while she wiped her hand on the napkin. “Probably a mistake for me to
stay in one place too long. I should sell everything and get the hell outta
Dodge.” She swallowed, then took another bite. Anything to keep from continuing
this conversation.
    “Gonna run from him for the rest of your life, are ya?”
    She sat up straight, back stiff as a pole. People were
always so willing to judge when they couldn’t possibly understand.
    “What do know about anything, Wyatt Brody? You come from a
home where people loved you. You knew where your next meal was gonna come from.
That you’d have a warm bed to sleep in at night.”
    “You’re right, darlin’, I did have folks who loved me. I
never went to bed cold or hungry but that don’t mean I don’t know loss, that
I’ve never felt pain. I grew up never knowing the love of my own ma. Your Aunt
Jack, she did a fine job of filling in when she could but she had her own ranch
to run. And my pa, he was a good man. I know he loved me, but he didn’t know
what to do with a little kid. Most times the only difference between me and one
of the hands was that I went to bed in the big house. Wasn’t ‘til he got sick
that we got close. I figure my life was a lot like yours in some ways. I never
played sports, never went to parties. Hell, I was too tired from working and
going to school. So I get it, okay? And I get that your first instinct is to
run. But there comes a time when you have to make a stand. You’ve got something
worth fighting for.”
    “I wanna keep him outta my life, I gotta keep moving. It’s
the only way.”
    “Is it?” He took a big bite from his burger, while she
practically burned with righteous indignation. How could he possibly compare
his life to hers? He set his burger down and wiped his mouth. “You got Geronimo
and the mares. One getting ready to foal any time. You inherited a real fine
ranch. Stay. Breed and train barrel horses. Make a name for yourself.”
    “But what about—”
    “You become part of the community, you’ll have folks that’ll
stand with you if your family tries to make trouble. Plus, you’ve got Dooley
and Maria. And me. We’ve got your back, Haley. Stay. You got a chance to make
your dreams come true. Be foolish not to take it.”
    Haley nodded, swiped at the tears leaking from the corners
of her eyes. He made it sound so simple. Take control. Make a home for herself.
Build something good from the ashes of her life. “I’ll remind you of how you
got my back when my daddy and Conner come to call.”
    Wyatt grinned. “You do that.”
    She looked down at her plate, then back up at him. “I’m
sorry.”
    “For what?”
    “For wallowing in self-pity. At least I had a few good years
with my ma. I can remember her if I think on it real hard. And I can recollect
how she smelled, the sound of her voice when she hummed lullabies. I’m sorry
you don’t have those memories.”
    “Apology accepted.” He pointed at her food. “Now eat. We got
a ways to go yet and horses to look after once we get there.”
    * * * * *
    Back in the truck and on the road again, Wyatt reached into
the unused ashtray, pulled out a bag of lemon drops, offered her one and popped
one in his mouth. It was a small gesture, one she had little experience
with—simple thoughtfulness. She didn’t know why such a gesture should shake her
so but it did. It struck her again that Wyatt Brody was dangerous. Not in the
way of her daddy, but in a manner that was much worse to her mind. Wyatt was
getting under her skin, making her hope for all the things she’d never
had—stability, someone to love her, a real family. Wyatt

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