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I want to put my hand over hers, pinning it against my chest in the hopes that she’ll know she’s safe. “I can pay you under the table, we have a few on staff who do that, but you can’t be nameless around the ranch. People gotta call you something.” I know she’s not done fighting me, but I have to try. “First name?”
“Jane.”
It’s progress.
“Last name?”
“Doe.”
I sigh because she’s like talking to a wall on the subject. “You know that won’t work.”
Her hands release from my chest, slipping back through my arms until cold seeps back where her warmth used to be. “Look, I’m not giving you my name. I have my reasons. Call me whatever you want. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Can’t say I’ve ever named a human before. I close my eyes, picturing her on the hood of her Bug. The light hit her hair and reflected like…
“You seem like a Sunny to me. Vibrant, full of life, sweet.”
She laughs once, but it’s not full of humor. “If you knew me, you’d realize how wrong that is. I’m closer to a thunderclap than sunshine.”
“I don’t care. You said I could pick it.” If she wants to keep raining on my parade, I’ll let her. “Your name is Sunny Smith.”
“Sunny.” She tries the name out for the first time. “It’s not bad, but I sound like your dog or a missionary.”
“For not caring what your name is, you’re sure opinionated.”
“I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea. I like the idea of Sunny but—”
“Clarkson.” I wait for it to land. “Sunny Clarkson.”
“Clarkson?”
“I think it’s common enough. I had a fifth-grade teacher I liked with that last name.”
She doesn’t argue, so I assume the name will stand. The outline of the corrals crop up in the distance. Time between the two of us is running short. “Sunny, I need to ask you something before we get to the ranch.”
“Fine.” We pass the corrals, horses eating dinner from the troughs. They catch her attention. Again, I’m struck how the ranch life feels second nature to her.
“I get that you don’t want to be found.” I should have asked this before we got back here, but since Dad will ask the same question, it can’t be put off any longer. “This reason that you’re running. Are you running from someone?”
It’s an easy question in my mind. A yes or a no. I pull Chance to a stop at the rail, and she still hasn’t answered. Sunny slides off ahead of me. I glance down at her, eyes wide, lips pressed inward. She can’t answer me.
I swing down, taking her arm in my grasp. “Are you dangerous?”
“No.” Zero hesitation. “I haven’t done anything illegal either.”
I want to know more. I want to know if this is one of those lies she said she likes to tell. The pleading in her eyes wins out in the end. She’s not dangerous. I’ll believe that. I’m not sure about the illegal claim.
“It’ll work out,” I try her new name again, “Sunny.”
I turn to start unsaddling, but Sunny beats me to it.
“Let me help you.” She starts to work on the saddle, untying the cinch, unbuckling the bucking strap. She moves with confidence like she’s done it a thousand times. The mystery of her past calls to me, but if anyone can understand having a past you don’t want to talk about, it’s me.
Sunny
He’s a nice guy. I don’t like lying to Rhett. At least it’s not one-hundred percent lie. Maybe just two thirds, or thirteen-sixteenths of a lie. It doesn’t matter. After a few weeks of keeping my head down, this whole thing might blow over, not that I can go back, not that I can ever go back, or ever tell anyone my real name. But I might have a shot at making a life somewhere else on a more permanent standard.
Sunny Clarkson, if there was ever a fake name to end all fake names. Sunny isn’t bad, though far more cheerful than the way my life has turned out. My real name will turn too many heads. I ditched the guys following me just in time this evening. Plowed over the dunes, caught at least four feet of air before I crashed on the beach, but I was alone. I bought the Bug with cash. I bought my train ticket with cash. I’ve been a shadow for over a week now. Other than the one slip up that got me noticed this afternoon, I’m free as a bird.
