Healing Trace (21 page)

"Of
course, we want you to work at the clinic. You're the perfect person for the
job, and it doesn't matter if you're with Trace or not, the job is yours for
however long you want it." He dug in his pocket. "I almost forgot.
Here's the key to your new car. Devon followed your directions, and found you a
reliable car with the wages you earned for the last six weeks."

She
took the keychain from him and stared down at her hand. The guys had rallied
around her when she returned to the ranch house this morning in shock over
Trace kicking her off the ranch. She swallowed hard. The friendships she'd
created with everyone were dear and important to her and despite Trace's
rejection, she didn't want to lose the other guys.

"I
guess I better get going. Devon's flying out tonight to meet a rancher down in
Texas, and I told him I'd meet with the construction crew at the reservation at
five while he's gone. They're delivering the modular to the reservation on
Friday, and then the rest of the construction will begin afterward. We want to
make sure everything goes off as planned. A couple more weeks, and the workers
will branch off and build the rest of the rooms needed. We want to get you
inside the office as soon as we can, so the people will get used to seeing you
around." He gave her an extra-long hug.

"Thank
you so much." She laid her head on his chest, wishing it were Trace who
held her tight. "Tell the others thank you from me. I'll never be able to
pay you back for everything you guys have done for me, and for Katie."

"We
didn't do you a favor, sweetie. We knew Trace wasn't going to like us going
behind his back and hiring you." He held her away from him. "After
you think about it for a while, we're afraid you'll hate us for what we've
done."

"Then…he's
your best friend. If you knew you were going to hurt him, why?" She
frowned.

"Joan,
we've protected him long enough. He's healing. We've all noticed how much
you've changed him. No one said personal growth was easy. He's going to get
mad, he's going to hate us, and he's going to hurt. We can all love him enough
that he doesn't have to love himself, but we're not doing him any favors by
protecting him from his own demons." Brody kissed her cheek. "This is
something Trace needs to do on his own. It's past time. We've protected him long
enough."

"I
don't understand." She stared up into Brody's eyes. "Why can't he
believe how much I love him?"

"I
don't know. Just don't give up on Trace. He's hurting, and trying to make sense
of his feelings. It's natural for him to run when he's faced with circumstances
that he can't control," he whispered. "That's what he's always done
to stay alive."

Long
after Brody left, Joan crawled into bed lonelier than she'd ever been. She
couldn't quit thinking about Trace. Everything she did, memories of him came
swarming in. She'd even gone out and purchased groceries to fill the
refrigerator, and found herself purchasing chocolate chip cookies and chocolate
syrup in an attempt at achieving a restful night's sleep. Even Trace's special
recipe didn't keep the dark doubts creeping into her thoughts.

The
knowledge of what transpired between them didn't coincide with what she knew
about Trace. She'd felt how much she meant to him when she looked into his
eyes, and when he touched her. There had to be something, some thought process
behind his thinking she didn't know about. For all the education and training
she'd gone through, none of the knowledge helped her understand what she was
supposed to do next.

He'd
shown her a side of himself, she suspected even the guys hadn't seen. A
gentler, kinder, and more sensitive side that he'd kept protected for his whole
life. The way he cared for Savannah with such determination and gentleness,
using the tools he knew would work, had worked in healing him. It wasn't her
doing.

The
horses, his job as branding inspector, put him smack dab in the middle of life
on the reservation, and he didn't realize how much of his childhood, his
people, made up a huge part of his life. He'd ran away, found his safe spot in
the world, and gave back to the reservation more than he even knew.

Moreover,
he gave to her. His soft touch, his caring voice, and his respect had pleased
her. Under all his anger, power, and hate, she'd received everything else he
had to give, and it was more than enough for her. He made her happy.

Tears
dripped down Joan's cheeks. If only he could recognize how much he was worth
her love. Together, they could get through anything. She closed her eyes. Maybe
Brody was right, and it was up to Trace to believe and see his worth for
himself.

***

Trace's
body sliced through the water. His lungs burned with pent up air. He pushed
himself one more lap, even though he'd stopped moving his left leg three laps
earlier.

He
needed the physical exhaustion, more than he needed to exercise his weak
muscles. Maybe then, he could curb the anger festering inside of him.

His
hand scraped the side of the pool. He surfaced, shook his head, and pulled
himself out of the water. Sitting on the edge, he caught his breath. The night
Joan discovered his secret and he'd slapped her arm away burned in his mind.

He
could have hurt her. The anger he'd lived with his whole life burned deep
inside of him, but his biggest fear that it'd come out and hurt the most
important people in his life was always at the foremost of his thoughts.

The
way he'd reacted toward the news of Joan's job at the clinic proved what he had
always known. He was just like his father. He had no control of his anger.

Disgusted,
he rose to his feet and walked toward the house. Goosebumps broke out along his
wet skin, and he raised his gaze.

Brody
and Devon stood huddled together, blocking the sliding door. He picked up the
towel, dried his face off, and continued toward the house. He had nothing to
say to them.

Their
betrayal hurt him to the core, and he'd lost the security of knowing they
always had his back. In the end, they chose to go against the one thing he
asked them not to do and he couldn't forgive them.

The
guys turned around as he approached. He ignored their curious looks and their
attempt at creating a wall of their bodies, blocking the door. Standing his
ground, he waited for them to move out of his way.

"We
need to talk,
otakuyaya
." Brody was the first one of them to step
forward.

He
clenched his hands and stared past Brody, not meeting his gaze. Tension rolled over
his shoulders and down his back, but he refused to stand down. The respect he
had for them fizzled with their betrayal, and they'd thrown the bond they had
with each other away.

For
Brody to call him his brother was a joke. Brothers don't turn their back on
each other.

"Dammit,
Trace. Talk to us. Say something, even if you tell us to fuck off." Devon
thumped Trace's chest. "This is killing all of us."

His
fist came up, but he forced his arm down. He wouldn't allow himself to hit one
of them, no matter how pissed off he was about them betraying his wishes. He'd
gone all these years making sure he never punched another person, afraid that
if he did, he wouldn't know how to stop, like his old man.

Bad
blood flowed in his veins. He was more like his father than he wanted to claim.

"If
it'll make you feel better. Go ahead and hit me." Devon stood in front of
him. "It was my idea to hire Joan. She deserves this job, so if you're mad
at someone…it should be me."

"Move."
He stepped forward, but Devon pushed him back with his chest.

"Do
it, Trace." Devon gave him another shove. "I'm not scared of you. Get
it out."

"No."
He sidestepped.

He'd
wrestled, shoved, rolled around in the dirt with each one of them, many times
in his life, but never in anger. He wouldn't cross the line they'd drawn before
him, and they knew it. It wasn't the pain he'd go through afterward or the
injuries he'd inflict on someone else that had him walking away.

It
was the humiliation of being the subject of someone's anger that stayed long
past the black eye or broken ribs. The shame that grew and festered, until you
believed you were lower than dog shit and not worth the next breath you
inhaled. He never wanted to subject anyone to that kind of treatment.

His
best friends had hurt him. They'd also forced him to let go of the guilt over
being his father's punching bag. Joan had believed in him, loved him, and he'd
lost everything. If anyone deserved to get their ass kicked, it was him.

"Back
off, Devon." Brody moved aside and nodded at Trace. "Go ahead. You
want to run away. Go. Sometime you'll have to face your decisions, Trace. This
one lays squarely on your shoulders, not on your father, not our people, and
not us."

His
friends backed away, leaving a path for him to walk through, challenging him,
daring him to hide from the truth. Blood pounded in his head, filling his ears
and muffling everything else. Surrounded and closed off, he felt himself
slipping into the past. Panicked, he shut down. He escaped inside the house and
closed the door. Not stopping, he went straight to his wing of the house and
locked himself in.

The
muscles in his legs quivered. He reached out and leaned against the wall. More
than his friends' confrontation, it was the quiet way they accepted the way he
handled life that left him weaker than a baby.

Once
again, they gave him an excuse to run. Twenty years ago, he loved them for
letting him escape. Ten years ago, he expected them to help. Before Joan, he
took comfort from always having them there to support him.

Today,
their understanding shattered his soul.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The
girl stepping off the train could not be Joan's little sister. Wearing a pair
of daisy dukes, a black spaghetti strapped tank—three sizes too small, and a
pair of red cowboy boots that showed off long, lean legs, Katie pushed back her
mane of red hair and waved over her head in carefree abandon.

Joan
ran to meet her, fighting tears. She'd done it. Katie was back home where she
belonged.

She
caught Katie up in a hug and twirled her around in a circle. "I am so glad
to see you."

"Me
too. I thought I'd never get back home." Katie laughed. "I couldn't
even sleep last night, I was so excited."

"Let
me look at you." Joan pulled back, keeping her hands on Katie's arms.
"You're taller than I am now."

"Yeah,
I went through a growth spurt. Aunt Sharon bought me some new clothes."
Katie turned in a circle. "I bought the boots with the birthday money I'd
saved from last year."

Joan
groaned and scrunched up her nose. "God! I'm the worst sister in the
world. I forgot about your birthday. Why didn't you say something when I talked
to you?"

Katie
shrugged. "It's no big deal. I knew you were working, and trying to save
your money."

"Yeah,
but I could have at least sang you Happy Birthday on the phone." She
grabbed one of Katie's bags. "I'll make it up to you, I swear."

"Sure,
if you want." Katie skipped into a walk. "Come on, I can't wait to go
home. I promised Melanie I'd get together with her."

"Not
tonight." Joan bumped her hip into Katie. "Tonight is for sisters
only. I've already ordered pizza and I want to hear about what you've been
doing while you were gone. So much has happened, and we need to set up a
schedule now that I'll be working."

"Don't
worry about me. I've got plans." Katie grinned. "I finally have my
life back."

"That's
why we're going to make sure we have the rules down. No arguing, because you
know dad would want you to put your education first." Joan threw her arm
around Katie's shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll have plenty of time for your
friends later."

Katie
squeezed her tight. "Anything will be better than living with Aunt Sharon.
It'll take me five minutes to update you on everything that has happened since
I left. I swear parents could send their troubled teens to Aunt Sharon, and
she'd whip them in shape. I can't believe she thinks playing Yahtzee is
something that should be a nightly ritual. I thought I was going to die of boredom.
Plus, not one person in that stupid city owned a horse."

Joan
put the bags in the trunk. Her chest constricted. She knew someone who had many
horses, but Katie would never know him now.

"Hey,
nice ride, sis." Katie jumped into the passenger seat. "Much better
than that beater you bought after selling daddy's truck."

Joan
grinned and slid into the driver's seat. "I hope so. At least this one
will get us to where we're going without blowing up."

"Can
I drive it sometime?" Katie turned around and checked out the backseat.
"Aunt Sharon wouldn't let me practice on her car."

"Only
on the back roads around town the way dad taught me." She shuddered.
"I can't believe it's time to get you a license. You're growing up way too
fast."