Hard 5: Multiple Love

Then the phone rings.

His face breaks into a smile, and he calls to Cash. As they exchange words, I know that Scott, Cary, and Sawyer must have found Big Boy. Nothing else could give them so much joy at such an awful time. Even through my misery, I have to smile.

Objects and possessions don’t really matter. What matters is what we truly love with all of our hearts, and I know for the Bradfords that Big Boy is just that.

Gradually, the area in front of Cooper’s Cottage clears, the dust rising behind the departing vehicles. I make my way over the fence, struggling with my case. The walk across the field doesn’t take too long. There was a time when I would run here, the long grasses tickling my outstretched fingers. I’d search for crickets and other funny-looking insects, trapping them for a time in empty glass jars, and after, I’d release them somewhere that I thought they’d be safe. Now my steps are weary and reluctant. The closer I get to my charred former home, the closer I feel to breaking.

The barn door is open. Nothing has been done here since I left. There were plans in Cash’s mind and in mine. Ideas that bubbled inside me with so much excitement I felt giddy. Now they’re burned to the ground too.

It’s not dark yet, but I don’t have anything to do other than struggle with my demons and wrestle with my fears. I return to the same place I slept the night after the auction and tuck myself under the same thin blanket. I close my eyes and try to push away all the memories that send a blunt ache to my heart. Tears spill from my cheeks, but I don’t make a sound.

I’ll let my pain out quietly, and in the morning, I’ll push it all down so that it can’t touch my heart again.

31

My cheek is warm and wet. I blink awake, finding it too dark in front of me to see even my hand.

“What is it, Big Boy?” a deep voice says. “Did you find something?”

There’s a soft whine and hot breath on my face that smells of doggie treats. When I reach out into the blackness, I feel soft fur, and then a wet nose touches mine.

“Big Boy,” I whisper. “Is that you?”

The response is lots of fast panting and then a little bark.

I roll onto my back and strain my eyes, finding the outlined shape of five familiar figures standing over me.

“She’s here,” Cary says.

“Melanie.” I know Cash’s voice. He’s the first to bend, his hand resting on my leg, big and warm and strong. “What the hell are you doing here?”

I start to cry. Not pretty tears like actresses in movies who somehow make themselves look sexier by weeping but big wrenching sobs that I know will make me blotchy.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Before I can register what’s happening, I’m being lifted out of the straw and tugged against a hard, muscular chest. It’s Cash. His scent is so familiar, and I cry even more for realizing how much I need to be close to him.

More hands rest against me. “Hey, Melanie. It’s okay. You don’t have to cry. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Cary’s hand smooths my hair, and it’s too much. He’s too kind. He’s too reassuring, and I don’t deserve any of it.

“Just put me down!” I shout, wriggling in Cash’s arms, but he doesn’t listen. “It’s my fault, okay? Everything’s my fault.”

“What do you mean?” Sawyer asks.

“I mean…I should have told you about Jethro Flint and his threats. I just…at the time, I was so angry that I’d lost my farm, and even though you’d been so kind to me, I resented you so much. When he was mean about you, it made me feel better for my ugly thoughts, like I was less alone. But you didn’t deserve any of it. Not the way I was thinking about you or the way Jethro blamed you for his troubles. You didn’t deserve it, and now everything is ruined.”

“Did you tell them to do what they did?” Colt asks. “Did you make them do it?”

“No…but…”

“Did you strike the match? Did you poison the cows?” he continues.

“Of course not but…”

“Did you stand by and watch while they did it?”

“No…”

“So, how is any of it your fault?” Colt’s lost the smiling lilt from his usual tone and just sounds tired and exasperated.

“It’s just…if something had happened to Big Boy, I would never have forgiven myself.”

“He’s fine,” Cary says. “A little shaken by his adventure but fine.”

“But Cooper’s Cottage, and the house, and the cows…”

“…Are not your fault.” Cash says firmly.

I bury my head in his work-worn shirt, so ashamed I can’t even face them in the dark. “You gave me a home and a job, and I repaid you by standing by while someone threatened you. I’m a terrible person.”