Elias (New Adult Romance) (West Bend Saints Book 1) (13 page)

"Sure," June said.  Then, to Stan, "Baby, come this way."  He was picking the petals off flowers in a pot near the door.  "Don't eat those."

Inside, June set out plates and Cade sat with Stan on his lap. 

"It's good," I said as I bit into my sandwich.  "Really good."

Cade smiled.

"He's a great cook," June said.  "Does better than me with a lot of it.  The muffins this morning?  His recipe."

"You're like a jack of all trades," I said.  "You keep up with the horses and everything here too?"

Cade nodded.  "Part of running a ranch," he said.  "Got a couple ranch hands helping out now that I'm at the shop more, though."

"I saw your shop today when I was getting a car," I said.  "Closed for lunch- obviously you were here."

We ate for a few minutes in silence, but it wasn't the kind of awkward silence I usually felt around people.  June and Cade were easy to be around.

Then I asked the question that had been on my mind since I'd left town.  "Do you know anything about the Saint brothers?"

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room.  "Where did you hear that name?" June asked.

"Elias Saint."  I blurted out the words before I could think about stopping myself.  "He's the guy who was with me here."

A dark look crossed Cade's face and looked at June meaningfully.  "You known him long?" he asked.

"Not really," I admitted.  "He helped me out of a jam."  I didn't elaborate, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the fact that I'd brought it up, since both of them clearly knew his name.

"He's not someone you should be spending time with," Cade said, his tone gruff.

"Cade, you don't know that," June said, her voice stern.  She gave him a look.

"A leopard doesn't change his spots," Cade said.

"It's not fair," June said, "Him paying for his brother's sins.  He was a kid then."

Cade grunted, and stepped away from the table, kissing his wife on the top of his head before he started for the door.  "Need to get back to the shop," he said, passing Stan to her

"Bye-bye," Stan babbled.

Cade kissed the top of his head.  "Bye-bye, baby," he said.  Then he looked up at June and I.  "That family's no good, the whole lot of them."

After Cade left, June turned to me.  "Don't mind him," she said.  "He's not closed-minded in a lot of ways, but when it comes to me, he is."

"I don't understand," I said.  I didn't know what Elias or his family had done, but this town seemed to be focused on it.

"What he said isn't right," June said.  "About his family.  They're not all bad.  The father - Abraham Saint -
was
a piece of work, as I remember, drunk a lot.  Think he used to beat up on the kids.  But he's dead now - just died, a week ago?  Maybe two weeks?  I can't keep up with things lately."

A week or two.

It had to be why Elias was coming back here.  He hadn't said anything.

But then, why should he, to some casual fling?

“I don’t understand,” I said.  “So they’re all bad seeds because of Elias’ father?”  I might have grown up in a small town, and understood how petty and mean life in a small town could be, but this seemed extreme, even to me.

June shook her head.  She sat Stan down on the ground, then got up and opened a cabinet, dragging out some toys and setting them in the middle of the floor.  “I don’t think Elias is a bad seed, honey,” she said.  “He seemed like a nice guy.  Seems to like you a whole lot, too.”

I don’t know about the liking me a whole lot part,
I thought.

“Then what is it?”  I asked.  “What’s the thing Cade was talking about?”

“Cade’s just overprotective sometimes, is all,” she said.  “Everything that happened was a long time ago, back when I was in high school.  You’re what, early twenties?”  She didn’t wait for my answer, just continued.  “So Elias is about your age.  He’d only have been a toddler when it happened, I’d imagine.  I didn’t know the Saints back then.  There was an older brother - Mason - older than me by a few years, worked as a ranch hand for Cade’s dad.”

I listened attentively, all the time thinking how insular this town was, that everyone was connected in some way.  I guess that could be comforting or frightening, depending on how you grew up in it.  I felt a momentary pang of empathy for Elias.

“Mason and my sister had a thing going,” June said.  “Even though he was a few years older.  Everyone says he was a bad influence on her, and that might well have been some of it, but my sister was a wild child back then too.  They were out at a party, Mason and my sister, and that’s when it happened.”

“What happened?”

“Mason and her drove back from the party,” June said.  “He was drunk.  My parents were out looking for my sister.  There was an accident, head on collision, and my parents were killed.  Mason, too.  My sister committed suicide after that, couldn’t bear to live with the guilt.”

My hand flew to my mouth.  “Oh my God, June,” I said, “I’m so sorry.  I can’t imagine.”

“Thank you for that,” she said.  “But it was a long time ago.  A lifetime.  A lot of people carried around a lot of guilt for what happened, even though there was nothing they could have done about it, Cade included.  There’s no use for it, either, all that guilt.”

“Is that what Cade was referring to, about the Saint family?”

“Yes,” June said.  “I left right after it happened, but I’d heard the family took a lot of heat for it.  The father didn’t have a good reputation to begin with, but after that, I’m not sure.  I’d imagine it wasn’t easy for them here.”

I could imagine what Elias went through in this small town, being from a family like the one he was from.  Golden Willow, Georgia wasn’t exactly like West Bend, not so small you’d know everyone and everything going on, but it was the kind of place where my mother’s reputation followed us.  It didn’t help that we attracted attention - looks of disgust or pity, depending on who saw my sister and I- walking around in bare feet and tattered secondhand clothing.

If there’s one thing in life I understood, it was being a pariah.

I also understood the fact that the feeling of being an outside never leaves you.  It’s etched on your soul, into the very core of who you are.  No matter how many fans I had or how much money I made, it was always there.

I wondered if Elias felt the same way.

Then I told myself it didn't matter.  I didn't need to know Elias' story.  He might have all kinds of reasons for being how he was, and I might have all kinds of chemistry with him, but that didn't matter.  I was here for a few days, biding my time...and Elias was more trouble than I needed, with the kinds of wounds that didn't just disappear.

I already had enough complications in my life.  I didn't need any more.

“Mom?”  I called.  I stood in the doorway for a moment, not wanting to even walk inside, almost as if I stayed right here, I wouldn’t be sucked into whatever drama was going on.  As much as I’d come home because I was lost, I knew I didn’t want to be rooted here permanently.  I didn’t want to be taking care of her forever.

It sounded callous, I knew it did.  Honor your parents and all that.  And my mother wasn’t evil, not the way my father was.  She was just… incapable.  She had never been strong.  It was one of the reasons I was back here, to make sure she was okay.

I just didn’t want to get stuck here in West Bend.

I didn’t want to end up like her.

She motioned for me to come inside, a lit cigarette dangling off the end of her fingers.  “I was thinking of getting one of those holders, you know?” she asked, pointing to the unlit end of the smoke.  “The way the actresses used to have, back in the day.  Looks classy.  Keeps your fingers from yellowing.”

I exhaled loudly.  “Maybe you should quit smoking, mom,” I said.  “It’s not good for your health, you know.  Cancer and all that.”

She looked behind me at the television set, on mute but set to a soap opera.  “Your father used to complain about that all the time, too,” she said.

“That was the one fucking thing in life we ever agreed on,” I said.  Except that the asshole didn’t give a shit about whether or not her health was great.  Fuck, he didn’t give a shit if she lived or died.  He just fucking cared about not having to buy my mother’s smokes.

When we were kids, we used to pick up loose change for her, or ask people for a quarter, so she could get them when my father refused.  Between the two of them, his booze and her smokes, it was a wonder my brothers and I ever ate.

“Your father did hate these,” she said.  “He did care about me.”

I didn’t bother to correct her.

“Mom,” I started, then stood in her line of sight to block her view of the television.  “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah, baby,” she said.  She angled her head to watch around me so she could see her daytime soap.  “Later, though, okay?  This is a rerun of one of my favorites.  This guy’s brother died in a tragic skydiving accident, see?  Only he’s not actually dead.  He’s back and he’s sleeping with that guy’s wife.”

“No,” I said, walking over to the television and shutting it off.

“What did you do that for?”  She sounded indignant, but puffed on the end of her cigarette casually.

“Because this is important,” I said.  “In town, someone said something about the property, about you taking care of the property.  What’s going on?”

She waved me away with a dismissive gesture.  “It’s that developer,” she said.  “Wants to buy our property.”

“Did they make an offer on it?”  I asked.  “Is it a fair price?”

She turned and walked across the room, her bathrobe billowing behind her.  “I don’t want to think about it,” she said.  “I just can’t deal with - the paperwork and all that - after what happened with your father.”

I felt a rush of anger at her.  My mother’s denial of anything bad in life had kept us with my father.  She lived in this mental place where my father wasn’t an asshole, where he didn’t come home drunk on Friday nights after pissing away the little money we had, belt in hand, looking for someone to exact punishment on.  And now, after he was dead, to act as if she should mourn him, was insane.  She should be relieved he was gone.

“You need to think about it, mom,” I said.  “If they’re offering a fair price, you need to consider it.”

She began rummaging around in cabinets, pulling out a mixing bowl and utensils.  “I have bananas,” she said.  “I’m going to make that banana bread you boys always liked.  You know Silas came by here yesterday.”

“Yeah?”

Her back was toward me as she took a carton of eggs from the refrigerator.  “Asking questions about these things,” she said.  “About the accident with your father, how he died.  You boys know all that just causes me more stress than I can deal with, and then I start getting the headaches.”

“All right, mom,” I said.  I made a mental note to ask Silas about it.  She may not have ever been a great mother, but she didn’t deserve to just waste away in this shithole house, not if a big developer was offering her something for it.

“You talked to Silas, then?” she asked.

“Yeah, I talked to him.”

“I don’t like the two of you fighting,” she said.  “You’re twins.  You should be close.  All of you should- Killian and Luke, too.”

Maybe if we’d have had a regular childhood, we would have all been close.  That’s what I wanted to say, but I didn’t.  Instead, I said, “Have you talked to Luke and Killian?”

She turned around, her back against the counter, her tone defensive.  “Luke comes into town every now and again,” she said.  “Smoke jumpers travel a lot, you know.  He’d like to be here more, but he can’t.  Sends me postcards though.”

I was sure that Luke’s job wasn't the only thing keeping him far away from West Bend.

“And Killian,” she said.  “He’s traveling, too.  Out on the oil rigs.  Don’t hear from him much, every few months or so.  Of course, that’s because he’s out of contact for long stretches of time.  But he says he likes it.”

"Look, mom,"  I said.  "I want you to be okay, money-wise.  I want to look at whatever they're offering you."

She turned back toward the counter, waved me away with her hand.  "Later, Elias," she said.  "Not right now.  I already feel a headache coming on."

I sighed.  I wouldn't be getting anywhere with her, not on this topic.  I'd have to see what Silas had to say about it. If anything.

"One more thing, mom," I said.  "I ran into Jed Easton in town today."

She stopped mid-motion, her mixing spoon in her hand, but didn't turn around.  "Oh?"

"He said I should give you his father's regards," I said.  "What the hell was he talking about?"

She was silent, still for a moment.  "I have no idea," she said, her voice strained.

"You have no idea why Jed's father, the town mayor, would be giving you his regards?"  I asked.  "You don't know what the hell he wants with you?"

She shook her head.  "You need to stay out of business that doesn't concern you, Elias," she said, her voice dark.  It was the first time I'd ever heard my mother speak directly about something like that in my life.  It wasn't her way.

Now I was interested.

I also knew when to leave things alone.  So I wasn't going to push it.

Then she surprised me again.  "I think you should leave now," she said.

I rode away from the bed and breakfast and the ranch house, letting the mare guide me more than I guided her.  I figured she knew this place better than I did, knew the rolling hills and the meadows out here, the groves of aspen trees that clustered like little oases in the desert.  Except that this was the opposite of desert, all lush and green, even in late summer.  It was as far removed from Hollywood as you could get, from the smog and dust of Los Angeles.

Riding out here like this, I couldn’t understand why Elias would hate to come back here.  But I guess it was the same kind of relationship I had with my hometown.

Out here by myself, I could see how someone might never want to leave.  Like June and her husband.  It was idyllic.  This was the kind of place I could feel like was a home.

Home wasn’t something I had felt in a long time, maybe ever.

I pulled the saddle and the blankets from the back of the mare and brushed her down.  As I left the barn, Cade was walking toward me.  “How was the ride?” he asked.

“Great,” I said.  “I've never ridden anywhere like this.”

Cade nodded.  “Yep.  West Bend isn’t like any other place.”

“No,” I agreed.  “I can see why it’s special, for sure.  It’s gorgeous out here.”

“What I said earlier, about the Saint brothers -” Cade started.

“It’s okay,” I said.  “June explained.  It’s complicated.”

“Nah,” he said.  “Not that complicated.  I was out of line.  June called my ass on it, said I was being too protective.  Don’t tell her I said she was right, but she was.  What all happened was a long time ago, and the other brothers, they were only kids.  I spoke out of turn, not knowing anything about Elias.”

“June is your family,” I said.  “Makes sense, you protecting her like that.”

Cade nodded toward the ranch house.  “June’s inside putting little Stan down to sleep,” he said.  “You want to come up for a beer?  I know she’d love to have you over.”

“Sure,”  I said.  "Just let me get cleaned up and I'll be over in a few."

After I'd showered and changed, I walked over to Cade and June's place.  The sun was low on the horizon by the time I walked over, the sky all lit up like a watercolor painting, all pinks and purples and reds.  I breathed in deeply, the smell of the evening air like a soothing balm.

“June won’t say so, but she’s the biggest fan of yours,” Cade said.  “She’s pretty much tickled shitty that you’re staying here.  I mean, I don’t watch your movies - no offense.”

I laughed.  “None taken,” I said.  “I haven’t exactly branched out beyond chick flicks.”  I paused for a moment, trying to consider how to say what I wanted to say.  “I’m here on the down low, though - you understand that, right?”

Cade opened the front door to the house and motioned me inside.  “Yeah, I gathered that,” he said.  “You’re not the first person I’ve hid in West Bend.”