Hank knows me too well. He was there for me and the girls forever. Still, it’s only been since the night we fixed the barn door together that I’ve realized how much I missed doing things with him.
“Hank—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“Grady, just listen. Brittany was my sis and I loved her, but I won’t pretend to know what you all went through with her illness and death...other than knowing it was more than I’d have ever been capable of handling.” Hank lets out a long sigh. “Thing is, Grady, I love you, too. You’ll always be family. I’ve looked at you as my brother just as much as she was my sister, and it ain’t right not to see my brother happy again. You and Things One and Two together, I mean. I finally saw that happen the last few weeks, and hoped it’d continue.”
The rough smile that cuts across my face surprises me.
Hell, I think of him as a brother too, and I appreciate his honesty.
“She has her own life, Hank. One she had before she ever came here, and I have to let her return to it.” That’s part of what makes me feel so damn empty, so turned out.
Yeah, I know that’s my fault.
There’s nobody to blame but myself for getting this attached.
Willow stated right from the start that she’s only here for a short time. She said she wasn’t expecting anything more than I was willing to give before we’d made love the first time.
Shrugging, I look at Hank. “Like it or not, it’s not up to me.”
“So you would like her to stay? Is that what I’m hearing?” His face goes tight as he tries to hide a smile.
“Let’s just say I wouldn’t be opposed,” I admit.
Hank slaps my shoulder so hard it catches me off guard. “Good man! I’m glad as hell you haven’t turned into some sorta Viking monk.”
“Viking monk?” I snort. “Nah, not really.”
Hank takes off his cowboy hat and puts it back on as he glances at the house. “Sooo, I have something else I need to ask you.”
I give him a side-eye. “What?”
“Can I, uh, show Granny Coffey the tiger? Just a little glimpse?”
“You told her about the tiger?” I bite off, giving him a dirty look.
He throws his hands in the air. “Aw, man, she overheard me and the girls at the rodeo whispering and wrangled the rest of it out of me! She won’t tell anyone. Honest.”
I shake my head so hard it might spin off before I calm down.
“I guess. She’s not as crazy as she seems when you get down to brass tacks,” I say. “Yeah, alright, she can see the damn tiger.”
“Sweet! I promise I won’t let her pull his tail,” Hank says, holding up his hands when he gets another look from me. “Dude, it’s just a joke. Can Willow come with us?”
I nod.
Giving Granny permission basically opens the floodgates. Her visit kicks off a small, steady flow of people following Willow into the barn, two at a time, to get a look at the beast who’s caused so much drama.
Something dawns on me then.
Once Willow exits the barn for the last time, I ask, “How’d you get those paw prints for the girls, anyway?”
She cocks her head. “It was just flour, salt, and water, mixed into a dough. Then I baked them until they were hard.”
“No, I mean how did you get the paw print in the dough?”
Her cheeks turn pink as she looks everywhere but at me. “I pressed his paw into the clay...”
“Damn, isn’t that against your own rule? Never getting too close unless it’s absolutely necessary?” I bite back a smile.
She gives me a shaky nod, twirling her hair pensively.
“Yes, but I wanted the girls to have something to remember him by. I took a risk and I’m kinda glad I did...” Her eyes drift to the house. “I can’t believe this, Grady. How all these people turned out to help. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
I shrug. “Good people live here. Neighbors who still act like neighbors.”
“You’re a lucky man to have this many wonderful people in your life,” she says, a whimsical smile on her face.
“No argument.” As we start walking to the house, I broach a subject I’ve been putting off too long. “So, after Bruce is settled in Wyoming and this FBI crap ends, I was thinking...if you’ve got no other plans, you’re welcome to come back here and stay till you—”
“No! Oh, I mean, I...I can’t do that. But thanks. Thank you, Grady. I just have to get home and figure out...well, everything.” She flushes, never meeting my eyes, and increases the speed of her walk. “Granny’s leaving. I want to say goodbye.”
I don’t even follow her into the house.
I just stand there, gutted, watching her disappear inside, feeling like a boulder just dropped on my head.
19
Ride the Tiger (Willow)
I’ve had rough nights, where my mind just won’t shut off, but last night was a bottomless freaking abyss.
I wake up with my pillow soaked and my eyes sore.
After everyone left yesterday, Grady and I avoided each other—there’s no nice way to put it—and the mood lingers the next morning.
We’re both like hurt, fragile things.
Every soft kiss and urgent moan we ever shared feels like it’s been stolen, my heart murdered and dragged out of reach, cast out of this strange temporary paradise we shared.
Foolish?
Absolutely.
I knew from day one I’d only be here for shelter. Even on our hottest nights, when we spent so much time locked in fevered kisses and hushed cries, I never stopped planning my post-Grady life.
Now try telling my heart that.
I’m so torn about leaving I can barely slug down a cup of coffee, looking away every time he’s in the room. Trying and failing to hide the redness in my eyes.
For the first time in my life, my sadness, my worry, my loss has nothing to do with big cats, much less my own future.
It’s losing the present, everything I was never meant to share with this rock of a man.
Don’t get me wrong.
I still want to work with exotic animals and pursue my dream. I’m just wondering if I’ve been wrong in thinking that’s all I ever wanted.
Living here has shown me what I was missing by not having a big family, never being truly connected to a loving community.
This swift detour through madness also revealed what it’s like to fall in love.
Before Grady McKnight, I was clueless.
Sure, I know what love is with Bruce, with Dad, with family...
But with the big tall drink of growliness who’s still messing up my head?
Love is a whimper of pain.
A heart rending in half.
A brief, all-devouring passion that whispers false promises and turns hearts to salt.
All because love is also this sharp, jagged shape that just won’t fit into the neat round hole of my life, and our love is so twisted and unexpected and impossible it can’t squeeze into Grady’s life-mold, either.
At the sound of the front door opening and banging shut, I squeeze my eyes closed, holding back another flood of liquid misery.
After last night, you’d think the well would’ve had to run dry.