Why did that fall flat? Why did the hum of a new and impeccable piece of machinery beneath her and this open-aired freedom make her feel like a traitor?
The entire morning had made her feel like a traitor, because she had woken up with her head on Dan’s shoulder, her hand curled into his shirt, and she hadn’t wanted to move. She hadn’t wanted to work or face the day.
She didn’t know who she was if she didn’t want that. Didn’t know who she was if all she wanted was Dan. Waking up with him. Him trusting her with his bike, asking her to come back. That was all she wanted.
It was wrong. She’d spent so long forcing herself to love this place, to work this place, to give everything she had to it in some sort of effort to prove she wasn’t the woman she looked so much like.
To be passionless and loveless so she wouldn’t want to run away, so she wouldn’t be left behind like her father had been. So she could be strong and nothing would ever touch her.
She was failing at that. Failing beyond reason, but it didn’t erase the things Dan made her feel, the things he made her forget. It didn’t erase the desire to go back to him tonight. A palpable tug back to him.
Her hands shook as she drove up the hill. She was losing herself, and she didn’t know how to fight it.
Had Mom lost herself too?
She pushed too hard against the brake and jerked to a stop so she could squeeze her eyes shut. But when she opened them, she didn’t have time to indulge in tears.
One of their cows was standing in the gravel between her and the garage. Another was in the yard. She swore and hopped off of the bike, whistling as loudly as she could.
The cow on the gravel lowed at her until she clapped her hands. “Go on. Get back to where you belong.”
Slowly, painstakingly, she managed to corral the cows back into the pen. By the time she had the cows in and the fence mended enough to keep them in place, she was sweaty and starving, a headache brewing, probably from dehydration.
Where the living hell was Caleb? She was supposed to be able to trust him. He’d promised he could handle this, but…he couldn’t. He wasn’t.
She wanted to cry, but the fury took over first. Hot and uncontrollable. The one thing they had left were these few cattle. That was it.
And if she hadn’t come home… Or if you’d come home last night.
Sick realization swept through her. This really was her fault. What idiot had thought she could trust Caleb? Could trust any damn person with the last name Shaw—including herself.
But Caleb had promised. Promised. She stalked to the house, blinking back tears, ignoring the futility settling in her bones. It seemed she would always come home to Caleb failing.
And it would be her fault for never pushing hard enough when it came to whatever demons kept driving him. But blaming herself didn’t make her any less angry.
“Caleb!” She stomped through the house, making as much noise as possible. When she burst into the living room, Dad was sitting in his wheelchair, watching TV.
“Would you keep it down?” he muttered.
“No, I will not fucking keep it down.” She tossed her hat on the ground. For five years she hadn’t let her temper loose around him. Hadn’t wanted to stress him out. Well, she was done.
But he didn’t react. Not to her yelling, swearing, anything. He just shrugged. Completely unfazed.
“I suppose you don’t care the cattle escaped?”
He didn’t break his gaze from the TV, didn’t do anything but sit there. “Can’t do anything about it, can I?”
“You could care!” Why was she yelling at him? It wouldn’t matter. None of it mattered.
“Caring ain’t shit.”
The tears that stung her eyes were wholly and completely unwelcome. “It is something to me. You caring would be something to me.”
But he didn’t. Wouldn’t. He sat there and watched some idiot yap on TV while everything inside of her shattered and broke apart.
“Fuck, what is all the noise?” Caleb entered the room, scratching his head. His white T-shirt was dirty with who knew what, his eyes bloodshot, and he hadn’t shaved in a few days. This was worse than the night on the porch, so much worse, because she could believe that had been a one off. A little release of steam like she’d needed.
The man in front of her had drunk himself into passing out last night. She knew that the same way she knew her father wouldn’t give her anything. Not one ounce of energy, not one drop of affection. They wouldn’t share their secrets, their pain; they wanted to drown in it.
Or they’d already drowned. Maybe everything was dead. Her heart felt dead right along with it.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Caleb asked.
“Do you know what I came home to?”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “Last night?”
It was a sharp pain that he hadn’t even noticed her not coming home last night. And a slap of embarrassment that she’d have to explain in front of both of them.
Or she could avoid, pretend. That’s what they did. Why not her? “There was a cow. Loose.”