I wanted to think that it was possible to fall out of love, but life was proving that impossible. I wondered if that was what Buck thought.
I snapped out of my daze when I heard a knock at the front door.
“Are you expecting anyone, Ma?” I asked.
“I haven’t been out of bed in more than a week. How could I invite anyone over?”
I peeked out the window and saw a couple of motorcycles parked in the front lawn, ones I didn’t recognize.
“I’ll be back in a second, Ma,” I said.
I crept up on the front door, trying to see if I heard any weapons being loaded. I’d been shot at a couple of times, and the last place I wanted that to happen was at my momma’s house.
I opened the door just a crack till I could see who was there. I didn’t recognize them in the slightest. I rested my hand on the shotgun I always had stashed just inside the entryway.
“Who the hell are you?” I said.
He was a biker, tall and broad shouldered with a bald head and a patchy beard.
“You Tara?” he asked gruffly.
I contemplated telling him no, but I didn’t think that would really help right now.
“Yeah,” I said, gripping the shotgun tighter.
“I got a message for you.”
He held out a crumpled piece of paper and dropped it into my outstretched hand. I unfurled it as best I could so I could make out the writing.
“Tara, I don’t buy the engagement. You have one day to make good on your marriage, or I’m coming after the gang. –Connor,” read the note.
My hands shook as I finished reading the note. I wanted to respond, but the biker who dropped off the note was already riding off down the road, along with a couple of his friends.
There was only one thing I could do at this point. I had to tell Buck. He would know what to do. He always knew what to do.
5.
I arrived at the tavern shortly after, in a panic. When I stumbled my way in, I felt everyone’s eyes on me. I sought out Buck immediately and hurried to meet him.
“Buck, I got news, and it isn’t good,” I said as I handed him the note.
He took it and read, and then turned it over, looking for more writing.
“This it?” he said.
I was surprised by his careless demeanor. He barely batted an eye after he finished reading.
“Yeah, Buck. You know what this means, don’t you?” I asked.
“I do. It means we have to make the marriage a real thing,” he replied coldly.
I sat on the stool and rested my head in my hands.
“I don’t think that will work this time, Buck,” I said.
He snapped open a beer and set it down in front of me.
“I don’t take threats lying down. He’s calling our bluff, simple as that. I’m thinking I should go give him an invite to the wedding, personally.”
Buck pulled his shotgun from behind the bar. I knew what his invites were like, and they usually came at you fast.
“Buck, don’t do this,” I said, putting a hand on his arm.
“I know what the note means, Tara. Whether we get married or not, he don’t care. He’s itching for a fight, just like me. I’m going to make sure he doesn’t get the first punch,” he said.
The door flung open again and in walked a bloody mess of a man. I ran over to him to hold him up; a couple other guys followed along.
“What happened?” I asked. “It looks like you rolled your cycle.”
The biker did his best to smile. I laid him out on a nearby table and was quickly surrounded by the rest of the gang. Buck stomped over and looked the man up and down for a second.
“Two of them…” said the injured biker. “They ran me off the road, into a ditch…then bolted…Connor’s boys.”
“This is becoming too much of a habit,” Buck said angrily. “Those bastards are going to get what’s coming to them.”
The rest of the motorcycle club cheered. This was the start of something that I didn’t want to get involved in. I shouldn’t have come back.
“Buck, I can’t do this anymore,” I said. “I’m going home.”
Buck grabbed my shoulder with his massive hand.
“Tara, I didn’t want you goin’ anyway. Take care of your momma.”
That was the last thing I thought he’d say. When we were younger, he wouldn’t have ridden off unless I was right behind him. But now he didn’t want me. I had been hoping he would grab me and forced me to come along, just like the old days. He could have, and I would have followed along with a smile.
“Good-bye, Buck,” I said.
“Good-bye, Tara.” He sighed and gave me a push toward the door.
Now that he wasn’t holding me, I felt something missing. I wanted to run back into his arms and just run away. An overpowering thought started running through my head: This would be the last time I’d see him.
I turned to look at him while I walked out the door. He smiled at me. It wasn’t his regular smile; it felt like he was trying to say good-bye and thanks for the memories.
I steeled myself and rode home. I could do little to hide my tears anymore, and they flowed freely.