“When I hear you say that, I want to believe you, but then late at night, it all comes rushing back, and…”
“Then maybe I need to be around you late at night to remind you that it’s not your fault.” That earned a half-hearted eye roll. “I get it, Billie, and what you remember might never change. But what it means might change someday, and that’s what I hope for. Do you remember my sophomore year of college, when I was partying way too hard and you were trying to get me to stop being an idiot?”
“Yeah. You told me to back off, and I told you if something happened to you, it would be my fault for not stopping you. I was so angry at you. I swear you are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”
“It’s like looking in a mirror, isn’t it?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Remember what Eddie told you when you said that to me?”
She looked down and plucked a piece of grass. “He said I can’t be responsible for your choices, no matter how much I hate them.”
“That’s right, darlin’, and Eddie sure as hell wouldn’t want you to carry the burden of guilt because he was pissed off for a few minutes. You know that, don’t you?”
She shrugged.
“Somewhere way down deep, beneath the hurt and guilt, I think you know it. And lucky for you, I know it, and I’ll keep reminding you until you dig out from under the muck and mire enough to see it.”
“You’re not some kind of magician who can change people’s views.”
“Unfortunately, I know that all too well. I also know how long you’ve carried this burden and how stubborn you are, and I know it’s not going to go away with one conversation.”
“Or fifty.”
Challenge accepted, sweet thing. “I guess we’ll see. Is that why you pushed me out of your life? Because you thought I’d blame you for Eddie’s death if I knew you’d broken up with him?”
She fidgeted uncomfortably, and he had a feeling she was done talking about it.
“Every time I see you, I remember that day and that it was my fault he died.” She stood abruptly. “What do I owe you for this session, because I’ve got to go?”
As badly as he wanted to go with her, he remained sitting, knowing the harder he pushed, the faster her walls would go back up. “Dinner tonight.”
She scoffed. “Just because we talked doesn’t mean we’re besties again.”
“We’ll see about that.” He winked.
She shook her head and headed back to the running path.
Billie didn’t just walk anywhere. She strutted determinedly, her gorgeous ass swaying in those skimpy running shorts. When she picked up her pace to an easy jog, he hollered, “You’re moving like that gorilla on your back has lost some weight.”
She didn’t miss a step as she flipped him the bird without turning around and ran faster.
He watched her growing smaller in the distance, and that noose he’d been wearing for years, the one he’d’ve bet would be making it hard for him to breathe until the day he met Eddie on the other side, loosened the tiniest bit.
Chapter Three
TUESDAY EVENING, AFTER a busy day spent working on the ranch and seeing clients, Dare showered and dressed, then put on his cut. He had church tonight. That’s what the Dark Knights called their meetings, and after dinner, he’d head over to the clubhouse with his father, brothers, and the other Dark Knights who lived on the ranch. He grabbed his cowboy hat on the way out of his cabin and was greeted by the familiar scents of the ranch, horses, hay, hard work, and family. The sun peeked over the mountains in the distance, casting shadows on the ranch where his roots ran deep. He and his family all lived and worked on the property, with the exception of Birdie, who lived by her chocolate shop in Allure, a neighboring town.
He climbed onto an ATV and headed up to the main house for dinner, passing the pastures and barns he’d worked in all his life. The ranch had been in his mother’s family for generations as a horse rescue. His father was from Peaceful Harbor, Maryland, where his grandfather had founded the Dark Knights. He’d ended up in Hope Valley when he and his brother Biggs had taken a cross-country motorcycle trip and had happened upon the Roadhouse. His mother had been there with her girlfriends, and his father had taken one look at her and told Biggs he was going to marry her one day.
Biggs headed back to Peaceful Harbor alone that summer, and Dare’s father began working on the ranch. A few years later, his parents married, and his father continued on at the ranch while his mother pursued a career as a psychologist. Dare’s father had begun hiring ex-cons and recovering addicts, hoping to give them a leg up, but he’d been sorely disappointed when many had ended up back in jail or on drugs. He’d eventually realized that while they’d served their time or overcome their demons, they hadn’t had the ongoing support they needed in order to rebuild their lives while remaining clean, sober, or out of trouble. It hadn’t taken long for his parents to come up with the idea to extend the ranch’s mission to include a therapeutic environment where people could learn new and better ways to cope with difficult situations while living and working on the ranch and attending group and individual therapy sessions. Giving them the support they needed, as well as a purpose. At the time, Tiny had been itching to start another chapter of the Dark Knights, and he’d finally found its mission, working hand in hand with the ranch in giving people second chances and helping them stay away from addiction and trouble. Over the years, many of the people who had gone through their programs had become Dark Knights, and several still worked on the ranch.
Decades later, his father oversaw the ranch, which spanned a few hundred acres, with several houses, barns, outbuildings, indoor and outdoor riding arenas, eleven cabins for live-in clients, a host of offices with living quarters for staff and newcomers, and a full veterinary clinic. They’d helped hundreds of ex-cons and recovering addicts find a new lease on life, and they now employed four therapists, including Dare and his mother, one equine rehabilitation therapist—Sasha—who often worked with interns, several dozen ranch hands managed by Cowboy, a residential manager/cook, two on-call physicians, a director of therapeutic services, and a handful of other personnel.
He passed the paintball field, which Sasha and Cowboy had expanded a few months ago, and cruised up to the main house, where offices for traditional therapeutic services were located, as well as residences for several staff members and any clients who were younger than twenty-one. Having always been intrigued by human behavior, growing up around tough bikers whose mission was to help everyone in their path and witnessing firsthand how the ranch’s programs had helped people with difficult or checkered pasts, Dare had known early on that he wanted to be a therapist on the ranch. But Dare’s methods weren’t traditional. He found it easier to connect with clients when their hands were busy and they were thinking about work rather than baring their souls. Instead of holding therapy sessions in an office, he held them outdoors while they worked on the ranch together.
As he parked the ATV, the front doors of the main house opened, and four-year-old Gus Moore ran out, followed by his father, Ezra. Ezra’s father was a Dark Knight, and Ezra had gone through the program as a troubled teenager. He’d later interned with Dare’s mother during school breaks and summers while he earned his degrees. He’d become a Dark Knight and was one of the ranch’s well-respected therapists.