River's End (River's End Series, #1)(10)

Brian Peterson married her mother only four years ago. He was a miserable, flaky bastard who bled her mother and Erin completely dry of money, emotions and love. He was why her mother killed herself. Or at least, that’s what Erin tried to convince herself about why her mother was dead. Brian had fed her already weak, ill mother more pills and booze than she ever had before. The problem was, when her mom died, Brian got everything her mother left. Although she didn’t have much, she certainly had more than Erin did. Brian allowed her to stay for a little while, but it soon became a complicated dance of avoidance and never being there in order to not get cornered by him. He continually leered at her, enough that she worried he’d eventually make a move on her. Finally, he nearly succeeded in trapping her against their threadbare living room sofa and trying to have sex with her. When she managed to get away, he told her to never come back again. Instead of risking another attack or attempted rape, she abandoned her pathetic amount of belongings and hightailed it out of there. She left with only what was on her back and hidden inside her car trunk. Pathetically, not much more than a trifle.

Brian came into their life after she started working for the fast food joint he managed. She had inadvertently introduced him to her mother. When her mother died, and she refused his advances, it was well understood there went her menial, but desperately needed job. And now here she was. So broke, she had few clothes, little money, no food, no job and now, no home. She only had her car. She literally knelt in prayer that she had the car keys with her, so Brian couldn’t take those from her too.

Erin opened the door to her trailer and sighed at the sights around her. Sunlight was gliding over the land, making the air smell alive. New shades of green covered the mountains and fields in a soft, luxuriant blush. She breathed the cold crisp air and tried to ignore the chill that settled over her legs and toes.

Grazing horses could be viewed in all directions that she looked, separated from her only by the labyrinth of fences. How could one figure out how to navigate that setup without getting trapped in the series of gates and corrals? She never even touched a horse in her life. This was, in fact, the closest she’d ever been to them. She stared at the half dozen she spotted grazing beyond her trailer. A tawny-colored horse raised its head and looked at her. Its brown eyes shone like beautiful, round pennies. She felt like the horse was looking deeply into her soul. She shook it off. They were strictly animals. Farm animals, and not ghoulish mindreaders.

She went to her car and dug around in the back, looking for some instant coffee.

“Need any help?”

With a startled jump, she hit her head on the partially opened trunk when the voice came up behind her. Cursing, she rubbed at her head and smiled when she realized who was there.

“Oh. Hey, Ben. You startled me. Sure. If you want, you can grab that other duffel bag. I think I’ll take it in with me.”

Jack’s son was red-haired with blue eyes and a dusting of freckles. He smiled at her. He’d be a heartbreaker someday soon. He gallantly took her duffel bag and followed her into the trailer. She told him to put it on the couch.

He looked around, then at her, then away. She smiled at him. He was so sweet, shy and unsure of himself. She ached for the days when she was sweet and shy and unsure. In contrast to what she was now: calculating, cold, and willing to use her sexuality just as much as Chance said she should. It made her feel sick and hollow when she realized how much she changed from the teen she once was.

“Don’t you have school?”

“Not today. Teachers are working, but no classes.”

“What grade are you in?”

He puffed up his chest. “Freshman. I’m fifteen. I’ll be driving next fall.”

“That’s cool.”

“Dad and I are fixing up my truck. We got it out in the shop.”

She sighed. Jack fixed a truck with his son? It seemed so sweet for the stern, rude man she met. Ben, however, was everything but that. Did Jack get the credit? Or the mother who was now dead?

“That sounds nice.”

There was a loud yell from outside and she couldn’t make out what it was. Ben looked at his feet with a sigh. “Guess I can’t now. That’s my dad. I’m supposed to be working.”

“You help with the ranch?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, got chores. Dad’s a stickler for work first, play later.”

She almost advised Ben to adhere to that, and revel in it, enjoying that your father wants to teach you things like responsibility and cares that you learn it. Instead, she said, “Well, thank you for the help.”

He looked up with a smile as he hunched his shoulders over. He was tall and so thin, his jeans hung low on his hips. She followed him to the door and outside again. Jack stood on the porch of the house, and even from the distance, his frown was obvious.

Ben turned and waved at her and she smiled and waved back. Then she headed inside. It was too cold. She wanted to look around, but would have to wait until the afternoon when maybe she could stand the temperature. She’d have to stand the hunger until then, when she could run into town for a lunch/dinner combination.

****

Jack watched his son walking up to him. Ben was only inches below him in height nowadays, a fact that made Jack’s heart swell. Where had the time gone? When did his son get so old, he could look him in the eye? What happened to the scabby-kneed youth who followed him everywhere with wonder in his eyes and mischief in his smile? Now Ben merely scowled at him with his shoulders hunched, and his jeans hanging too low. He hated how sloppy Ben kept himself. But that wasn’t a battle worth waging. He was having enough trouble keeping Ben out of trouble.