curt and short because her attitude was pissing him off and while he’d been nice up to now, he wasn’t sure he could maintain 'nice' for much longer if she kept pushing on that bitch switch. “If it’s all the same to you.” He offered her words back to her in a snide tone, mocking her, watching with some satisfaction as her head whipped backwards in reaction.
“Nelms.” The call came from behind him and Reuben turned to see an older rancher standing close, weathered face drawn into stern lines of disapproval. Recognition came after a moment, and Reuben smiled, trying to shake off his anger as he held out his hand. This was Chelsie’s father, Amos Transom.
“Mister Transom,” he said, hoping his pleasure was evident in his voice. That only lasted a moment though, because neither his smile nor his hand were met with the same, so he stood there awkwardly for a second before allowing his arm to fall. “Saw Steve last night, he said Chelsie is doing well.”
“Why are you in here, Nelms?” The older man asked this question as if it made all the sense in the world, and Reuben frowned, feeling like he was out of step with whatever was happening.
“It’s a feed store.” He paused, trying to decide if it needed clarification, and added, “I’m buyin’ feed.” Frowning, he looked around the room to see there were three other men glaring at him. He stepped closer, asking in a low tone, “Is there something I’m missing here, Mister Transom?”
“Write down your order. Let’s take a walk, Reuben.” Transom’s face softened slightly, allowing pain to creep in around the edges. “We’ll have us a chat.”
Several hours later, Reuben backed the truck up in front of the barn and sat waiting for the ranch hands to unload the feed he’d brought home. He sat, leaning his head against his hands on the wheel, overwhelmed by feelings and emotions suppressed for so long.
Hatred and anger, betrayal and pain. It all swept through him, carrying him along and battering him like rocks in a raging river. Weighty wings of shadowed shame rested on his shoulders, because of blood.
The picture Transom’s words painted was harsh, agonizing to hear, and Reuben was devastated by what the tale revealed. The woman behind the counter was Lisa Kennwort. She was the only daughter of the man who owned the feed store, and a classmate of Ray’s back in high school. She had competed on the circuit, running timed events and winning more often than losing. Just like Mica.
Mica . His mind took him back to the last time he’d stood outside his brother’s trailer. The slamming of the door echoing across the lot even while he listened to cries of pain and humiliation. Agony given voice as her body took blow after blow from the flank rope of Ray’s bull-riding rig.
She was the first girl Ray took that Reuben had known . Known and liked. Laughed with. Shared meals with. It was impossible for him to reconcile the giggling, beautiful, green-eyed young woman who dipped her fries in gravy with the mascara-smeared, sobbing play toy of Ray’s. That was the night Reuben had left the circuit for good and went home, running away from what he had heard and seen, trying to put it out of his mind.
For a time, he'd convinced himself leaving was the right thing to do. That she was a big girl. Told himself it was her choice to stay with the sadistic bastard his brother had become. After all, she could have always left.
His firm conviction had wavered, however, when he'd met and talked to Andy Jones. Thinking through it, talking it over, he'd come to the realization that it was his own fear holding him back. Fear that Mica would view him the same as his brother. Fear he would become the same. That somehow he would wake up and find himself just as twisted and depraved. Fear that the monster lived inside him, biding its time. Waiting.
He knew Mica wasn’t equipped to deal with Ray, none of the girls he’d played with were, so Reuben had gone out
“Nelms.” The call came from behind him and Reuben turned to see an older rancher standing close, weathered face drawn into stern lines of disapproval. Recognition came after a moment, and Reuben smiled, trying to shake off his anger as he held out his hand. This was Chelsie’s father, Amos Transom.
“Mister Transom,” he said, hoping his pleasure was evident in his voice. That only lasted a moment though, because neither his smile nor his hand were met with the same, so he stood there awkwardly for a second before allowing his arm to fall. “Saw Steve last night, he said Chelsie is doing well.”
“Why are you in here, Nelms?” The older man asked this question as if it made all the sense in the world, and Reuben frowned, feeling like he was out of step with whatever was happening.
“It’s a feed store.” He paused, trying to decide if it needed clarification, and added, “I’m buyin’ feed.” Frowning, he looked around the room to see there were three other men glaring at him. He stepped closer, asking in a low tone, “Is there something I’m missing here, Mister Transom?”
“Write down your order. Let’s take a walk, Reuben.” Transom’s face softened slightly, allowing pain to creep in around the edges. “We’ll have us a chat.”
Several hours later, Reuben backed the truck up in front of the barn and sat waiting for the ranch hands to unload the feed he’d brought home. He sat, leaning his head against his hands on the wheel, overwhelmed by feelings and emotions suppressed for so long.
Hatred and anger, betrayal and pain. It all swept through him, carrying him along and battering him like rocks in a raging river. Weighty wings of shadowed shame rested on his shoulders, because of blood.
The picture Transom’s words painted was harsh, agonizing to hear, and Reuben was devastated by what the tale revealed. The woman behind the counter was Lisa Kennwort. She was the only daughter of the man who owned the feed store, and a classmate of Ray’s back in high school. She had competed on the circuit, running timed events and winning more often than losing. Just like Mica.
Mica . His mind took him back to the last time he’d stood outside his brother’s trailer. The slamming of the door echoing across the lot even while he listened to cries of pain and humiliation. Agony given voice as her body took blow after blow from the flank rope of Ray’s bull-riding rig.
She was the first girl Ray took that Reuben had known . Known and liked. Laughed with. Shared meals with. It was impossible for him to reconcile the giggling, beautiful, green-eyed young woman who dipped her fries in gravy with the mascara-smeared, sobbing play toy of Ray’s. That was the night Reuben had left the circuit for good and went home, running away from what he had heard and seen, trying to put it out of his mind.
For a time, he'd convinced himself leaving was the right thing to do. That she was a big girl. Told himself it was her choice to stay with the sadistic bastard his brother had become. After all, she could have always left.
His firm conviction had wavered, however, when he'd met and talked to Andy Jones. Thinking through it, talking it over, he'd come to the realization that it was his own fear holding him back. Fear that Mica would view him the same as his brother. Fear he would become the same. That somehow he would wake up and find himself just as twisted and depraved. Fear that the monster lived inside him, biding its time. Waiting.
He knew Mica wasn’t equipped to deal with Ray, none of the girls he’d played with were, so Reuben had gone out
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