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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
DIANE
It’s not uncommon that Avery comes up to Thomas’ house and they leave for the night. I know they go into the city and lose themselves in whiskey, women, and poker tables.
I’m not sure if Avery knows how much Thomas gambles when he goes. I’m the one who has to drag him up to his bedroom when he returns. I see the I-owe-yous in his wallet and the distinct lack of cash.
I’m not sure how much he owes, but it’s a lot.
Thomas’ drinking has some advantages, the primary one being that I can rob him for spare change while he’s passed out. I take any cash he has left after I haul him to bed. Sometimes it’s a dollar, sometimes more. I cut a slit in the mattress and stuff it deep inside.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it, but I know that whoever has money has power. It doesn’t matter that I have the same legal rights to own land and go where I want.
They have the money, so they have the power.
There’s an unusual burst of warmth in late September that lets in the frost by night but holds off the snow during the day. One evening, when Avery and Thomas are gone, I open my bedroom window and sit by it. It’s chilly, but the fresh air smells so good.
In thedistance, dogs yap from Avery’s farm over the hill. My heart hurts. I’m lonely and tired of sitting in this room, hoping that the world changes.
It’s then that I hear it: a faint tread on the grass outside.
My eyes snap open.
The constant tension I live with at Garrison Ranch is gone instantly. Warmth rushes through my veins. Westin Quinn stands on the other side of the screen. He’s shadowed, but when he tilts his head up, his hazel eyes glitter.
I want to cry with relief.
“Westin,” I whisper. “What are you doing here?”
He comes close, so close until there’s nothing separating us but the wire screen. I reach out, and he spreads his hand so I can press my palm to his. His fingers are big and square, rough from work. My hands look small and cold in comparison.
“Came to see my girl,” he says.
My lips quiver like I might smile. Instead, I sniff.
“How’d you know I was alone?” I whisper.
“I was leaving town, and I saw the Garrisons at the bar,” he says. “I reckon they’ll be gone all night with the way they were drinking.”
I hesitate, unsure what I want. Maybe I should invite him in, but this house feels like death, and Westin burns like the sun. I part my dry mouth and clear my throat.
“Take me to Sovereign Mountain,” I burst out.
Those are the words he’s waited for—I see relief hit him. He nods once.
“Go get your boots on, darling,” he says.
I nod, my pulse racing. He melts into the darkness as I pull the window shut. Billie is sleeping on my bed. She lifts her head as I draw a thick, oversized sweater atop my dress and wriggle into my boots. I kiss her head, running my fingers through her coarse hair.
“I’m leaving the bedroom door open,” I tell her. “If you need to leave, the dog door is unfastened. Okay?”
She licks my face. I kiss her one more time and dart from the bedroom and out the back door. I lock it securely, and I’m halfwaydown the steps before Westin appears. Without thinking, I jump into his arms, and he catches me easily.
Our mouths meet. All the pain in my chest is gone, replaced by golden warmth. He’s good at kissing, takes his time warming me up, and then he goes in with his tongue and makes my stomach flip.
When we break apart, I’m dizzy.
“Did you drive here?” I ask.
