Of what I would never have now.
That night, I slept fitfully, the way I always did. But it wasn't the dreams of Iraq that haunted me. It was dreams of June.
The next afternoon, I walked down the sidewalk, headed for the general store. MacKenzie wanted cowboy boots, and I was going to get her a real pair. She'd ridden one of the horses this morning, squealing with delight perched high on top of the saddle. I figured I'd make her day if I could find her a little pair of boots all her own.
Maybe I was getting soft in my old age, but that kid killed me. Having her here was like getting to peek into another life, the one I would have had if I'd have stayed here.
I lingered on the sidewalk. It was amazing, how much the town had changed. And how little had changed, all the same. Funny how that worked. The old barber shop was there, with its same outdated sign, repainted a hundred times, the cracks showing through the layers of paint. There was a new sporting goods store, with expensive gear. Catering to the tourist crowd, I supposed. And Nina's coffee shop was still there. I glanced in the window as I passed by, and saw her.
June.
No, not her.
Them.
Her and a sheriff. I stood there, staring through the window like a crazy person, but neither of them noticed. Shit. June and a fucking cop.
I squinted. It took me a minute to recognize him. Fucking Jed Easton. He looked different, but it was him. He'd always had a thing for June, back when we were kids.
I turned around, fists clenched, headed back in the direction of my dad's truck. I needed to leave now, before I did something colossally stupid, something that would jeopardize Crunch and his family. I needed to think about them, not myself.
Fucking Jed. So he was the town sheriff now.
And June.
My mind swirled with possibilities. Would June be ratting us out to a cop? Or...was she dating him?
I didn't know which alternative pissed me off more.
“I’m going for a ride.” I stormed past my father on the way to the bedroom to change clothes. What I wanted was a fucking drink.
Screw June and whatever it was she had going on with Jed back in town.
"Cade." My dad stood in the bedroom doorway.
"What?" The word came out as a snap, harsher than I intended.
"Did something happen in town?"
“No,” I said automatically. “Maybe. I don't know.”
“Anything that’s going to affect that little girl in there?” he asked, referring to MacKenzie. My father was already protective of her, and I felt a pang of guilt that she was involved in all this club bullshit.
“I don’t know, Pop,” I said. I could feel the blood pumping in my ears, and I could barely hear what he said above the din of my own blood pressure. All I knew was that I had the nearly irrepressible urge to throttle that Jed guy. "Do you know Jed Easton?"
"Yep," he said. "Sheriff in town."
"What do you know about him?”
“Why are you asking?” My father's eyes narrowed, immediately suspect. I'm sure he thought I was asking for some reason that had to do with my criminal enterprises. My father thought I was scum of the earth, I knew it. I couldn't exactly fault him for thinking that way. Not when it was true.
"June was at Nina's, having coffee with him."
My father studied me. "Do you care because she was having coffee with a cop, or because she was having coffee with someone that wasn't you?"
Screw my dad, too. I reached for my hat. "I need to get out of here."
My dad nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. "Saddle up Moonie. She needs to be ridden."
As I rode away from the house, I could feel myself start to calm down, the same way as when I rode the bike. That bike had been my saving grace too many times to count, a way to get away and leave it all behind.
You can't run away from this, my dad had said when I'd joined the Marines. He didn't understand that I needed to get out of this town. It was filled with memories of her.
Memories of my failure.
My dad thought I had run to the Marines because of June. He didn't know it was also because of what I'd done. I'd kept that secret, about June's sister and the ranch hand. If I hadn't, if I'd have done something about it, they'd be alive right now.
He didn't understand that I never wanted June to stay. If she stayed, she'd find out that I'd done nothing to stop what happened. She'd never forgive me.
Joining the Marines was a way of atoning.
How could I have known I'd wind up being a sniper?
So much for atoning.
I had a hell of a lot more to atone for now.
I stopped at the ridge and dismounted, stood there with my hand on the horse, feeling her breath rise and fall, the warmth of her flank under my palm. For the very briefest of moments, I was sixteen again, standing on this ridge, imagining my life stretched out before me.
Infinite possibilities and boundless optimism.