"I’m going to go back to the station," my uncle Jacob says. "I’m going to get extra eyes on the house tonight."
"I’m going to go and pack her bag," my father says, and I just look at him. Everyone looks over at him. "He needs to stay here." He points at Mayson. "That doesn’t mean she needs to stay here with him."
"He’s right," Mayson says just as I say, "Absolutely not."
All eyes turn to me. "I am not leaving my home," I say softly, and my father starts to shake his head. "I am not leaving my fucking house."
"Chelsea," Mayson says, almost as a warning.
I shake my head hard now. "I am not going to leave my home," I tell him. "I am not leaving here because this is my home. So if this man who was watching me thinks he’s going to just come into my house." I laugh, and if I didn’t know myself, I would say I sound like I’m losing it. And maybe I am losing it. "I don’t know who the man was. I don’t know what he wanted. But I know one thing. I’m not letting him scare me out of my house." I look over at Mayson, hoping he can read between those lines. Because what I really want to say is I’m not leaving you.
"Five minutes ago, you couldn’t even breathe," Quinn says, and I glare at him.
"Well, now I’m fine," I say through clenched teeth. "I’m going to change," I tell the room, "and I think everyone has something to do." I look at Amelia. "Bring the food in."
I turn and walk toward my bedroom, and I’m not surprised that Amelia and Quinn both follow me into my bedroom. "You guys," I say, turning on them and see that Quinn has closed the door.
"This stops now," Quinn says to me. "You can not stay here."
"I, for once, agree with Quinn," Amelia says. "You can let him stay here. But you." She points at me. "You need to pack a bag and come stay with me. The guys can get someone else to come in here."
"I can stay here," Quinn says, and I look at him.
"You are one second away from shooting him yourself.” I point at him.
"I won’t hurt him." He smirks now. "If anything, you can always fix him up."
"That isn’t funny." I close my eyes and sit on the bed.
Amelia comes over and puts her arm around me. "I know you want to help."
"It’s more than that," I tell her and look over at Quinn. "I know you think I’m just some stupid kid with a crush, and I’ll get over it. But…"
"Nothing we can say will make you change your mind?" Quinn asks, and I know I don’t even have to answer him. "Jesus, you two have been a pain in my ass since I was five years old." Amelia and I both laugh. "Why can’t you just be like normal girls who chase cowboys and listen to the men?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Quinn Barnes," I say. "I’m gonna tell your momma what you just said."
"Yeah." He smirks at me. "When you do, make sure you do it with my father there."
"Get out." I point at the door.
"I’ll be outside," he says.
"Peeping Tom!" I tell him, and he turns to walk out of the room.
"I’m going to be okay," I tell Amelia and look at her.
"You didn’t see how freaked out you were today." She blinks away tears. "I just don’t want…"
"He won’t let anything happen to me," I say.
"Oh, I know he won’t." She gets up. "And if he fails?" She puts her hand on the door handle. "Quinn isn’t the only one who will put a bullet in his ass."
I watch her walk out before I change out of my shorts into yoga pants and a tank top. When I walk out of the room, I’m met with silence. Walking to his bedroom, I see him on the bed trying to put a bandage on his leg.
"What happened?" I ask, and he looks up at me. I can tell that he’s angry.
"Nothing," he says, his voice tight. I lean on the door and fold my arms over my chest. "Why are you still here?"
"I’m not sure you want to know the answer," I tell him honestly. He chuckles, and I know it’s sarcastically as he shakes his head. "So I’m not going to answer you." He looks at me, shocked. I turn now, ignoring the pain in my chest as I walk over to the kitchen.
I wash my hands, looking out, and I see a couple of cowboys in the far distance as they put up something. Turning, I grab my baking stuff and get to work. "What the fuck are you doing?"
I look up now as I knead the dough I started. "I’m baking," I say. "It calms me." He watches my hands rolling the dough forward and then bringing it back. "When I was fourteen or fifteen, I used to go shooting when I got upset or pissed off."
"Why did you stop?" he asks, folding his hands in front of him on the island.
"I kind of"—I shrug—"sort of shot Quinn." He laughs, shaking his head. "It was a graze. But he got all ‘you shot me.’ He didn’t even need stitches, and it barely bled." I roll my eyes. "So my parents took away my guns, and every time I got angry, they sent me to my grandmother’s house. And it just stuck. Every single time I would get angry or annoyed, I would go on over, and she would teach me a recipe."
"What are you making?" he asks.
"Chicken and dumplings," I answer him. "Then I was thinking of some chicken potpie."
"Will you be making apple pie?" I look over at him.
"I may be persuaded to," I tell him. "Was Quinn okay with you?"
"He knows about…" he starts to say and taps the counter with his finger.
"He knows what?" I ask, not sure what he means. My mouth runs dry.
"That," he starts. "Apparently, you used to." He looks down, not sure of what to say.
"Follow you around." I laugh and make the dough into a round ball.
"He mentioned you following me to the barn." I look up at him.
"And I was trying to be all sly and shit." Turning now and grabbing a bowl, I place the ball of dough inside to rise.
"I remember," he says to me silently. "That day."
I look over at him, shocked he remembers that day. "What?" I ask.
"It was two years ago." He starts to talk now, and I don’t move from my spot. "I hadn’t seen you in over a year, and then you just showed up."
"I didn’t just show up. Amelia picked me up at school." I wash my hands and then turn to look at him, and just like that day, he makes my heart speed up and my belly flip and flop.
"You got out of the car, and the wind picked up your hair a bit." He leans back in the chair. "You were wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt tied at your stomach."
"I went to hug my grandfather, and I saw you walking away from the party," I tell him. "It took me over ten minutes to finally pry myself to the stable."
He gets up now and comes around the island to stand in front of me. "I was sitting in the barn with my head hanging down, telling myself you were perfectly wrong for me." He takes one of the strands of hair that’s fallen out of my ponytail and wraps it around his finger. "You deserved to have someone who didn’t have a house full of skeletons. You didn’t deserve a broken man."