Gone Country (Rough Riders #14)(137)

“Stop blaming the way you feel because you’re hating on Wyoming. I know you were just as miserable in Arizona, no matter how you try to paint the desert with rainbows and butterflies.”


“How do you know?”


“Sierra. You told me.”


“When?”


“You called me late one night in January. Crying about not fitting in anywhere. You said it didn’t matter where you lived, it was always the same.”


Sierra looked away. “I’d been drinking.”


“Probably. But it doesn’t make the things you told me any less true,” she said gently. “And I don’t think moving to France will change anything. Except you’ll be stuck in a foreign country where you don’t speak the language, with no escape. You will have to live with your impulsive, spiteful decision. And I ain’t gonna lie. Part of me hopes you make that choice. A dose of reality would do you good because you don’t understand how good you have it right now.”



Sierra paced, acting as if she was contemplating Rory’s words. “You really think my dad will decide to stay here?”


“I hope so. For my mom’s sake and for his.” Rory watched Sierra, so torn; she knew something else was at play. “What happened in the last couple of days that made you so eager to leave Sundance immediately?”


She bit her lip and studied the ground.


“Were you bullied by girls at school? Verbally harassed or physically assaulted or threatened?”


She shook her head.


An awful thought occurred to her and it wouldn’t go away. “Did a guy touch you in a way you didn’t want to be touched? Or force you? Because if that happened, we can get you help—”


“I wasn’t raped or anything like that.”


“Thank God.” Rory exhaled. “I didn’t want to push you, but I know you’re holding something back and I was really scared that’s what it was.”


“Why?”


“Because, like you reminded me a few months back, there is some stuff we can’t talk about with our parents, no matter how much we should. I suspect you don’t have many people you can talk to if you’re calling me.”


Rory waited for Sierra to speak. When several minutes passed and she stayed mum, she pushed her. “Sierra. What’s really going on? What couldn’t you tell your dad?”


Sierra had closed herself off, wrapping her arms around her upper body. “I have—had—two people I can talk to. Marin. But she’s staying at her grandma’s. The other person I could talk to? He left yesterday morning.”


Sierra had only ever mentioned one guy. “Boone?”


She nodded.


Well that explained a lot. “What happened?”


“He joined the army. We’ve hung out so many times and he never…” She cleared her throat. “Then after he told me he was leaving, he said all these things to me…how he felt about me—which I didn’t know—and he kissed me.”


“And?”


“And he left and it hurts! It pisses me off and I can’t stop crying. I want to leave. I want to put him behind me, put this whole year behind me and start over.”


“But you wouldn’t be starting over if you went back to Arizona,” Rory pointed out. “Do you think you could start over in France?”


She sniffled. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I’m so confused.”


Rory let her settle before she spoke. “Can I give you some advice, little sister?”


“I guess.”


“Change yourself, not your location.”


Sierra looked up. “What?”


“You let things happen to you instead of making them happen for you.”


“How do you know?”


“Because I’m the same way. Or I was. You didn’t confront your dad about the stuff that was bugging you last fall. You made me do it. I went through this too, learning to be assertive without changing who you are inside, so listen to me.” Rory tucked a strand of hair behind Sierra’s ear. “You’re a fun, smart, funny and sweet girl—when you’re not being a total brat.”


Sierra gave her a watery smile.


“For some reason, you hide that. Don’t. Be proud of who you are.” Then Rory laughed.


“What?”


“I just realized I’m telling you to act like a McKay.”


Tears shimmered in Sierra’s eyes again.


What was up with that?


“You don’t need a pack of friends, okay? If you have one good friend, one you can talk to, one who can talk to you, one you have fun with…then count yourself blessed. There are a lot of lonely people in the world who don’t even have that, to say nothing of all the people you have in your life who love you. The McKays may annoy me to no freakin’ end, but if you called any of them and told them you were having troubles, they’d all be there for you in a heartbeat. I think you know that.”


A full minute passed before Sierra spoke. “So if you were me, Rory, what would you do?”