reach out to stroke his neck. To my surprise, he doesn’t budge and lets me touch him again.
“You’re not so bad, are you?” I laugh. He kicks his feet up and I take a step back. “Okay, okay,” I chuckle, feeling a little better about the situation. But fear still lingers at the edge of my mind.
Instinct drives me back inside the house, pulling me straight towards Tobias’ room. My throat clenches shut, just as it always does as I reach out to grip the doorknob. I turn it slowly and push the door open.
Panic strikes me quick when I see his bed is empty. I force the door open the rest of the way, quickly scanning the room for him, but he’s nowhere in sight.
“Tobias?” I cry out, letting my voice carry throughout the house.
There’s no answer. I rush down the creaky stairs and step outside onto the front porch. I inhale deep, ready to shout his name again, when I notice the barn door sitting wide open.
“Tobias?” I ask again as I step inside. I hear the rhythmic thumping of fist against rubber near the back wall and rush towards the sound. He’s here, shirtless and sweaty, standing in front of the punching bag, firing quick jabs at it over and over again.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask him.
Tobias lowers his fists briefly and pauses to take a breath. “Training,” he says, keeping his eyes forward.
“Why are you training? You should be resting.” My eyes fall to his glistening body, but I force myself to look away.
“I’ve been resting for two days, Claire,” he points out before jabbing the bag again.
“That’s not enough.”
He finally drops his fists and turns to look at me. I bite my inner cheek, forcing myself not to look him up and down again. “Don’t you have chores to do?”
“I already finished.”
“We shouldn’t be seen like this,” he says, looking over my shoulder towards the house.
“Charlie’s gone.”
“Where’d he go?”
“Jefferson City.”
Tobias turns back to the punching bag and chuckles. “Let me guess, farm equipment?”
“Yeah.”
He raises his fists, this time switching sides to lead with his left. “Dad’s got a thing for antiques.” He throws another punch at the bag.
I watch him pivot back and forth. The bruises, which were a deep red just days ago, have healed somewhat, but not enough to make me feel better about him being out of bed. “How’s it feel?” I ask.
“It’s manageable.” He puts on a tough front, but I can tell he’s holding back on his punches. His movements are sloppy and slow and he’s favoring his left side.
“Liar,” I say.
He throws a last punch and turns around to look at me. “You should go find something to keep you busy.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“I have an errand to run,” he says.
“Tobias, you can’t go anywhere like this—”
“Claire.” He clenches his jaw. “I’ll be all right.”
I look down his body again, still as worried as ever. Tobias has his mind set on this. I have to trust that he knows what he’s doing, or else I’m sure I’ll go insane. “Okay,” I whisper.
He looks back at me. “Hey,” he says, taking a quick step forward. “Like I said, I’ve had worse.”
I nod. “I trust you.”
His lips curl and he reaches out to drop a hand on my shoulder. “Thanks for checking in on me,” he says. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I shift slightly. “Someone had to…”
“Did Dad ask any questions?”
“No, you usually sleep all day anyway. I don’t think he noticed.”
“Good.”
I follow him back to the house, keeping a close eye on him as he climbs the stairs to the porch. He goes into the kitchen for a glass of water and I linger back in the doorway.
My eyes fall to the kitchen table and I chew on my lip. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
Tobias looks over at me. “Like what?”
“Who’s Mary?”
He pauses and sets the empty glass down in the sink. “Why do you ask?”
“The other day, Charlie called me Mary by
“You’re not so bad, are you?” I laugh. He kicks his feet up and I take a step back. “Okay, okay,” I chuckle, feeling a little better about the situation. But fear still lingers at the edge of my mind.
Instinct drives me back inside the house, pulling me straight towards Tobias’ room. My throat clenches shut, just as it always does as I reach out to grip the doorknob. I turn it slowly and push the door open.
Panic strikes me quick when I see his bed is empty. I force the door open the rest of the way, quickly scanning the room for him, but he’s nowhere in sight.
“Tobias?” I cry out, letting my voice carry throughout the house.
There’s no answer. I rush down the creaky stairs and step outside onto the front porch. I inhale deep, ready to shout his name again, when I notice the barn door sitting wide open.
“Tobias?” I ask again as I step inside. I hear the rhythmic thumping of fist against rubber near the back wall and rush towards the sound. He’s here, shirtless and sweaty, standing in front of the punching bag, firing quick jabs at it over and over again.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask him.
Tobias lowers his fists briefly and pauses to take a breath. “Training,” he says, keeping his eyes forward.
“Why are you training? You should be resting.” My eyes fall to his glistening body, but I force myself to look away.
“I’ve been resting for two days, Claire,” he points out before jabbing the bag again.
“That’s not enough.”
He finally drops his fists and turns to look at me. I bite my inner cheek, forcing myself not to look him up and down again. “Don’t you have chores to do?”
“I already finished.”
“We shouldn’t be seen like this,” he says, looking over my shoulder towards the house.
“Charlie’s gone.”
“Where’d he go?”
“Jefferson City.”
Tobias turns back to the punching bag and chuckles. “Let me guess, farm equipment?”
“Yeah.”
He raises his fists, this time switching sides to lead with his left. “Dad’s got a thing for antiques.” He throws another punch at the bag.
I watch him pivot back and forth. The bruises, which were a deep red just days ago, have healed somewhat, but not enough to make me feel better about him being out of bed. “How’s it feel?” I ask.
“It’s manageable.” He puts on a tough front, but I can tell he’s holding back on his punches. His movements are sloppy and slow and he’s favoring his left side.
“Liar,” I say.
He throws a last punch and turns around to look at me. “You should go find something to keep you busy.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“I have an errand to run,” he says.
“Tobias, you can’t go anywhere like this—”
“Claire.” He clenches his jaw. “I’ll be all right.”
I look down his body again, still as worried as ever. Tobias has his mind set on this. I have to trust that he knows what he’s doing, or else I’m sure I’ll go insane. “Okay,” I whisper.
He looks back at me. “Hey,” he says, taking a quick step forward. “Like I said, I’ve had worse.”
I nod. “I trust you.”
His lips curl and he reaches out to drop a hand on my shoulder. “Thanks for checking in on me,” he says. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I shift slightly. “Someone had to…”
“Did Dad ask any questions?”
“No, you usually sleep all day anyway. I don’t think he noticed.”
“Good.”
I follow him back to the house, keeping a close eye on him as he climbs the stairs to the porch. He goes into the kitchen for a glass of water and I linger back in the doorway.
My eyes fall to the kitchen table and I chew on my lip. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
Tobias looks over at me. “Like what?”
“Who’s Mary?”
He pauses and sets the empty glass down in the sink. “Why do you ask?”
“The other day, Charlie called me Mary by
Similar Books
