They didn’t go out again, because the next Friday night found him packing an extra set of clothes in a backpack for his trip to River Bay with Nate.
His lungs vibrated a little strangely as he folded his gym shorts and tucked them in the bag too. He couldn’t believe he was going back. He’d told himself for the years and years he’d lived in the dormitory that he would not go back once he left. He’d turn his back on the place and find a new path in the world.
“Hey,” Nate said, coming into Ted’s room. He glanced up from the items he’d laid on his bed. Nate hardly looked like the man Ted had bonded with in prison. With the cowboy hat and the facial hair, he definitely looked more rugged. More weathered. More western.
Ted knew that storm in Nate’s eyes, though. “What’s up?”
“Ginger says we can’t leave until the horses are fed in the morning.” Nate kept the frown on his face and looked over his shoulder. “And Connor’s downstairs crying his eyes out that he can’t come.”
“Then let him come,” Ted said. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“It is to me,” Nate said quietly, and Ted heard the phantoms in his voice.
“He’ll have more fun here,” Ted said. “Spence is taking him to the beach, right?”
“Yes,” Nate said with a sigh. He sank into the armchair in the corner of Ted’s room. “He’ll be fine once we go. I just feel guilty.”
“Well, don’t,” Ted said, but he knew that was easy for him to say. He didn’t have a five-year-old crying about wanting to go to a prison. When Ted actually thought about it, the idea was ludicrous, but he’d met Connor long before Nate had been released to take care of him. Ward, Nate’s brother, had brought him to River Bay several times.
“And feeding the horses is fast,” Ted said. “We’ll go out early and together, we’ll get it done. Jess will finish whatever we don’t.”
“I want to leave by six-thirty,” Nate said. “I don’t want Dallas to think no one is coming. I want to be there before it even starts.”
“And we will be,” Ted said, sitting down on the bed and facing Nate. “What’s the real problem?”
“No real problem.” Nate’s gaze skated away from Ted.
“Sure,” Ted said sarcastically. “Because I’ve never seen you do that before.” He scoffed and shook his head. “You can’t keep a secret from me for long.”
“No, I can’t,” Nate said, but he still didn’t confess to what was bothering him. Ted had told him about his date with Emma last weekend, and he hadn’t needed to give all the details for Nate to know he’d kissed her, or that he was still worried about her, or that he wanted to help her.
Nate just knew Ted, and Ted knew Nate.
“I don’t want to go back there,” Ted finally said, breaking this new brand of silence between them. He looked up and met Nate’s eyes.
“That’s what I was going to say.”
“We’ll be okay, right?” Ted said. “They’re not going to handcuff me and toss me back in Unit NF?” The sentence came out as a question, all of Ted’s fears laid out between the two of them.
“No,” Nate said. “They won’t do that.”
“You’re authorized to be with me when I leave the ranch.” Ted needed to reassure himself. “Ginger knows where I’m going. Heck, I even texted my parole officer.” He hadn’t had a meeting with Martin Landy yet, but they’d texted to set something up. Ted had thought it prudent to let the man know where he was going, and with who, and for how long.
Martin had only responded with a few words about being with someone authorized to take him off the ranch.
“It’s going to be okay,” Nate said, and he clenched his jaw—another move Ted had seen from the man before. It was like he’d simply make up his mind that a situation would be a certain way, and that was that. It would be that way, because the mighty Nathaniel Mulbury had decreed it.
In this case, Ted sincerely hoped he was right. He drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “I’ll go talk to Connor.”
“I’ll text Ginger.”
Ted nodded and left his friend in the armchair. He had no idea how to talk to a crying child, and when he went downstairs, he found Spencer sitting on the couch, his feet up on the ottoman in front of him, the towheaded boy asleep against his chest.
“He’s going to be fine,” Spencer said with a smile. “He’s sleeping down here with me tonight, and we’re going to have a great day.”
Ted nodded, said, “Thanks,” and went back upstairs.
The next morning, Ted worked with Nate in the stables, and he sure did like that a whole lot more than Bill or Jess. He liked them too, but he was so comfortable with Nate, and it was almost like they knew what the other was going to say or do before they did it.
At six-fifteen, Nate took off his gloves and tucked them in his back pocket—very cowboy-like. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”
“I have one more,” he said. “I’ll be two minutes behind you.”
“Okay.” Nate left, his energy too much to be contained by waiting. Ted finished with Black Widow, and took an extra moment to stroke her cheek. “Have a good day, okay, Widow?”
The horse almost nodded to him, and Ted headed down the aisle. He was about to turn left to leave the stables when he saw Ginger sitting on the low stool, feeding the foals. Surprise kicked through him. “Where’s Emma?”
Ginger looked up at him, her eyes narrowing. “She left for the weekend.”
“She did?” He looked down the aisle as if she were really standing at the sink, getting another bottle ready. Concern spiked through him.
“Yep,” Ginger said, obviously not concerned, though she didn’t hold his gaze for very long. “She has every second and fourth weekend off. But last week threw some things off.” She glanced up at Ted for a fraction of a second. “So she left this week.”
“Every second and fourth weekend? Where does she go?” He distinctly remembered her telling him she’d returned to the ranch in the middle of last week because she had nowhere to go.
“To see her family,” Ginger said, her voice slightly false. “She’s been doing it forever. Since the day she started.” She tugged on the bottle. “Come on, Ruby. It’s empty. Let it go.” She wrestled with the filly for another moment, finally succeeding in wrestling the bottle away from the horse. She stood up. “It was part of her contract when she started here. Every second and fourth weekend off.”
Ginger walked away, leaving Ted in her wake. Stunned, he could only stare after her. Ginger didn’t seem like this information was Earth-shattering, but to Ted, it was.
Something as routine as that…Emma had somewhere she was definitely going. So when she’d said she didn’t have anywhere to go, that wasn’t true.
He turned and left the stables, needing the open air to clear his thoughts. But they refused to clear, no matter how quickly he walked. He took the steps to the deck two at a time, and entered the Annex at six-twenty-five.