Second Chance Ranch Chapter 32

Chapter THIRTY-TWO:

Kelly stared at the ceiling in her bedroom, wishing the walls around her life existed in a completely different city. The thought felt false, though, and Kelly admitted that the only walls she wanted to see in the morning were out on the ranch.

But she didn’t want to be with someone she couldn’t trust, who didn’t trust her. Still, she hadn’t been able to sleep on Saturday night, the Fourth of July fireworks notwithstanding. She’d laid in bed, reliving the kindness in Squire’s eyes when he played with Finn, the adoration she’d seen when he looked at her. She remembered how he’d come to plant her mother’s garden, how he’d helped Finn on the range, how honest he’d been about not wanting Three Rivers unless he was the vet there.

But now she knew he wasn’t honest all the time. She didn’t know when he’d gotten his acceptance letter, but she guessed it had been several days ago. Glenda and all the girls already knew, and Heidi didn’t come to town that often.

It doesn’t matter, she told herself as she got up and padded into the bathroom. Just like she’d said on the phone to Squire. He was free to do whatever he wanted. He’d made his choice, and it wasn’t to share his life with her. Taylor had made the same choice, but as Kelly thought about him, the usual bitterness and shame didn’t well up in her throat.

She looked into her own eyes in the mirror. “I’ve forgiven him.” A powerful wash of peace filled her. She felt relieved of a heavy burden she’d been carrying for months. Thinking of Taylor reminded her of something he’d taught her years ago as an intern. She locked the bedroom door and put the CD in her old laptop.

She could find out who created the files on the disc. Taylor had taught her how to look at the data created when each file was. It usually included the username of the computer who created it, as well as the date and time.

She clicked on the CD icon on her desktop and opened the information pane. The username attached to the disc left little doubt in her mind.

CowboyClark stared back at her, along with the date of creation. December 12, 2010. The last date the disc was modified was yesterday, and Kelly knew she’d done that.

She wanted to call Squire and tell him that she now knew Clark was the one to blame. But she’d turned off her phone as soon as she’d gone to bed last night. She hadn’t been able to bear the thought of another night of checking it every four minutes. She’d even left it upstairs, out of reach. If and when Squire returned to civilization, he’d find her messages. She had a sudden longing to hear his voice, but she pushed it away.

She took the disc out of her computer and put it back in its case. She’d printed everything off of it, and she’d backed it up onto this laptop, but Squire would need this. No matter what, she couldn’t lose it. She held it close to her heart as she listened to the silence in the house. 

She took a calming breath. What had he been truly been avoiding while out on the range? How to ask her to come with him while he completed his degree? 

Or how to break up with her? 

Or simply fireworks that sparked his trauma?

She didn’t know, and she hated that. 

With Finn gone to church with her parents, she couldn’t stand around in a basement, wondering where her life had gone wrong. 

She hurried into the bathroom and opened the cabinet over the toilet. Too obvious, though the cabinet was too high for Finn, and her parents never came downstairs. But there was a decorative lip on the top of the cabinet, and she slid the slim case over the top, careful to keep it where she could touch it.

Satisfied that no one would disturb the CD until she could return it to Squire, she left the bathroom and went back to bed, praying that sleep would claim her for a good long while.

* * *

When she woke, the silence in the house loomed like a physical being. She felt like she did when she was single, like no one would know when she got up or what she did next. She hated it. 

As she dressed, she heard footsteps upstairs, slow and steady, like her father’s. A cold chill skated down her spine, and she opened her bedroom door slowly so as to not make any noise.

She waited for Finn’s rapid-fire steps to accompany her father’s. Or the more clipped steps of her mother’s heels as they returned from church.

Nothing stirred, and whoever had entered the house wasn’t moving now. Kelly held her breath, desperately wishing she had her phone with her. She glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand, seeing that it was just before lunchtime. Church hadn’t ended yet, unless Scott had run out of things to say a little early.

They wouldn’t be home from church yet, unless Finn had had an accident. Her heartbeat thumped strangely, but she wasn’t sure if it was because her son might be hurt or upset, or because someone was in the house who shouldn’t be.

She watched the bottom of the steps, straining for any inkling of sound. When nothing happened, she took the first step out of the bedroom. 

She’d done so many things one step at a time. She’d filed for divorce one step at a time. She’d packed up her life in California one step at a time. She’d returned home to Three Rivers one step at a time.

In that moment, she realized she wanted to continue her relationship with Squire—one step at a time.

So they were a little off right now. She hadn’t truly let him explain anything about why he’d kept his acceptance to Texas A&M a secret, and she should’ve. No doubt, his reasons were good to him.

She could at least listen, the way she did now.

Still hearing nothing, Kelly moved silently through the downstairs living room to the staircase, stopping and looking up before she committed to climbing the stairs. Heart pounding and throat dry, she made a snap decision.

“Daddy?” she called, forcing herself to move around the corner and start up. “Finn?” She climbed the stairs steadily, as if expecting to see her father and son. She didn’t want whoever was here to be in the basement, where the CD was stowed.

She didn’t want to be trapped down there. Up here, she might be able to grab her phone and call for help. She might be able to get out of the house.

A man stepped in front of her, already holding her phone, and all of Kelly’s might’s and maybe’s dried up at the sight of Clark’s dark-eyed glare.

She wasn’t entirely surprised to see him. She was completely terrified, though, of the unhappy sneer on his unshaven face.

Still, she raised her chin, because she hadn’t been raised to just roll over. “My parents are on their way home from church,” she said.

Clark said nothing as he dropped her phone into his front jacket pocket. He leveled his gaze at her and waited.

For what, Kelly wasn’t sure. Her mind spun, and she wondered if she should’ve gone on the offensive. 

“That’s why you’re here, right?” she asked, hooking her thumb toward the backyard. She started to move that way too, and Clark flew into motion to block her.

“Stay right there,” he growled out.

“Momma’s been sellin’ off the zucchini,” she said in a loud voice, hoping it covered her fear. “I can get it for you, but I think all the carrots are gone. My son loves those.”

“I’m not here for vegetables,” the cowboy clipped out.

Kelly made a show of screwing up her face in confusion. “You’re not? Why are you here then?”

He folded his arms, and in the next moment, the darkness on his face got illuminated by a beam of light that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He started to laugh, but the sound held no humor. 

Kelly inched backward, away from him and toward the living room. The front door sat about fifteen feet away, but she wasn’t wearing shoes. She couldn’t outrun this man anyway. The best thing to do was buy time. As much time as she could.

As quickly as he’s started his maniacal laughter, he stopped. Her eyes flew back to his. “You know why I’m here.”

“I don’t,” she said. “Unless you want veggies, which I’ve already said I’ll get for you.”

He plucked her phone from his pocket and swiped it on. She wished she had a passcode or some other way of protecting the things on it, but she’d removed all of her credit cards and financial information so she didn’t need such precautions. They were too annoying when Finn just wanted to play games on the device.

“I quote.” He cleared his throat as if about to give the performance of his life. “Found the missing documents. Come to my office.” He looked at her, his eyebrows going up. “Nine-one-one. Come to my office ASAP.”

She frowned, though she distinctly remembered sending those texts. “Okay,” she said. “I needed to talk to someone in my office.”

“Someone?” he barked. “Sure, right.” He shook the phone at her. “I really like the last one from your boyfriend.” 

Kelly’s gut lurched. Squire had texted back. Squire knew about the CD and the documents now. Squire would come for her. She must’ve looked too eager, because Clark pulled her phone back toward his chest. 

“Do you want to see it?” he asked.

“I don’t care,” she said. “I’m not expecting to hear from anyone today.”

His eyebrows went up again. “You’re not?”

“Squire’s out at that cabin in sector fourteen,“ she said. “He hasn’t texted me. You’re just trying to get me to…I don’t know what.”

“The cabin is in sector twelve,” Clark murmured, looking from her to the phone. For a moment, a very split second, Kelly thought he might believe her. She’d learned that from Taylor too—put in enough of the little details, and the story sounded plausible.

Of course he had to work late during tax season. Of course tax season ran for six months out of the year. Of course she needed to stay home; they had a son to take care of; he’d go to the gala two hundred miles away alone.

She knew then she needed to deny everything. No matter what Clark said or did, she could pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about.

Their eyes met again, and Kelly’s chest ached. She hadn’t been breathing, so now, she took in a big lungful of air. “Should I make some coffee?” She started to step past him, but he blocked her again.

“No,” he said. “I’m not here for anything pleasant, Miss Kelly. It’ll be easier if you just tell me where the CD is and if you’ve looked at it.”

She frowned again. “CD? We don’t used CDs anymore.” If he could see her pulse, he’d find it skipping and bumping and crashing and burning.

She swallowed as he took a step closer to her. She fell back one. He took another. So did she.

“Clark, you’re scaring me,” she said.

“Good,” he said, holing up the phone again. “Because Squire said to keep the CD safe….” He grinned, probably at how quickly her face drained of blood.

“Which means you must have it—and I want it back. Right. Now.”