Page 23 of You Shouldn't Have Come Here

“How’d ya fall in?” I asked.

It took her a moment to register my question and when she did, Grace glanced at me. “I heard something rustling. I got a little too close before I realized what it was. As you can see, it’s kind of hidden by long grass and weeds, and the branches off this tree hang low to the ground. I slipped right in.” She shuddered.

“I’m sorry, Grace. I’ll get animal control out here to clean it up. These bones and carcasses are what’s attracting whatever’s killing to this spot.”

She took her eyes off of the pit and looked in my direction—not at me but beyond, staring intently at the ranch like she was seeing it differently now. I wondered if she felt it. The curse. It was hard not to feel it. Death hung heavy in the air here.

I took a few steps toward her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She tensed up, so I immediately pulled it back. “I wouldn’t let anything ever happen to you, Grace.”

Grace didn’t say anything, so I didn’t either. There was that silence I enjoyed between us. A low nasal whine came from above. We both looked up, watching several turkey vultures circle high in the air, waiting to swoop in for a meal.

“Don’t worry. They’re harmless,” I said. “They actually help keep the environment clean and prevent the spread of diseases.”

I wasn’t sure why I shared that fact with Grace. I guess I just wanted her to feel safer. My gaze went to her again. The driedrust-coloredblood made her blue, blue eyes pop. I wondered what it was she was thinking. Was she upset? Was she intrigued? Was she planning her exit now?

“I’m going to shower,” she finally said.

Grace walked apprehensively toward the ranch. Her arms were folded against her chest like she was trying to close herself off from everything around her. Dragging my hand down my face, I blew out my cheeks. This wasn’t the Wyoming I wanted to show her. It was beautiful, yes, but even beautiful places were ugly. Flies buzzed around the bloody carcasses, swooping in and picking at the rotting meat. Death wasn’t pretty.

I shook my head and made my way up the driveway. Charlotte was loading up her car with the crates of eggs.

“How’s the princess?” she asked with a laugh.

“Char, don’t,” I warned.

“What? I told ya she don’t belong here.”

I rubbed my brow and let out a deep sigh. “Because she didn’t like falling into a pit of dead animals?”

“I mean, that part was gross, and I’d be disgusted too. But animals die all the time out here. This isn’t her world, Calvin. Can’t you see that?” Char tilted her head.

“Maybe it’s not mine either.”

“Don’t say that.” She folded in her lips, waiting for me to speak. When I didn’t, she asked, “How did you not report that pit to animal control earlier?”

“Didn’t see it. I don’t leave this ranch often because I don’t have the time to. This place takes up most of my life. Too much to look after. Too much to worry about.”

Char gave me a sympathetic look. “I think this place has a hold on you, Calvin, and you’re punishing yourself for things you had no control over. We’re worried about you.”

“Who’s we?”

“Betty, myself, and Joe too, I’m sure.” Charlotte placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.” Her hand grazed the side of my face, and when she looked at me, there was an intensity beneath her eyes. I had seen it once before, and I knew what it meant... to her. But I didn’t feel the same way.

I turned my head and let her hand fall away.

Char finished loading the last crate into the back of her car and looked to me.

“I’ll see you on Saturday,” she said, closing the trunk of her car.

I drew my brows together. “Saturday?”

“Yeah, Calvin. Your birthday barbecue bash. I told you months ago you weren’t spending it alone, and you agreed.” She dusted her hands off and walked to the driver’s side door.

“Shit. I completely forgot.”

“You’re the only person I know under the age of forty that forgets about their birthday. It’s weird,” Char said, getting into her car.

“It’s not weird. It’s just another day.”

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