Page 31 of Long Hard Fall

You’re just like your dad. But Mom never said that in regard to women. She said it every time he rode at a breakneck speed to chase down a loose bull. He heard it during cattle drives when they coaxed a hundred head of cattle into another pasture. Or when he fooled around and stood up in the saddle. People told him he was just like his dad when they saw the two of them standing together. But he wasn’t his dad. Why had that dawned on him just now?

Maybe…maybe he could…explore this thing with Abbi. Because when he was with her, he knew no other woman. He hadn’t once thought about heading out to get laid. And if he thought about sex, or anything leading up to the act, it was Abbi he wanted.

“Dude, do you see a ghost?” Sissy called through the door. “I knew this place was haunted. I mean, it’s only Gramps. Probably. It’d be creepy if it weren’t. Wait—it’d be creepy if it were.”

Abbi’s stiffened and she squinted into each corner.

He stepped in to finish supper preparations. “Gramps didn’t pass away here,” he clarified.

“But his spirit is tied to the place.” Sissy bounced toward the dining room with a dish of potato salad in her hands. “There are worse people to haunt you, just saying.”

“The house isn’t haunted.” Cash crowded next to Abbi; she didn’t move away. “But Sissy’s right. He was pretty protective of us when he was alive.”

“Just no summonings, please,” Abbi said, “or I’m walking home.”

He chuckled and bent to kiss her neck. She jumped and he nipped harder. His body roared to life.

Not now. He embraced all the discipline he could muster. Just because he’d had the epiphany he could maybe think about having a girlfriend without making her miserable, it didn’t mean Abbi was the one. Starting a relationship with secrets was a good way to hurt her.

She slid him a wicked smile that tangled up his insides and picked up her lettuce salad. She winked. “Nice meat.”

He chuckled and followed her into the dining room with his platter of steaks.

The meal was like their normal family get-togethers, the good ones when no one was irate with anyone else. Sissy told stories about her barrel-riding days and Abbi’s interest seemed genuine, not feigned, unlike most people when Sissy got started on her passion.

Then somehow, the topic turned to the pranks Cash and his cousins played on each other. They’d started out putting hay in each others’ hats, then grown to moving trucks to the other side of the field when they were out working. Abbi roared with laughter at a retelling of the time Aaron drove the yard mower to town to go through the drive-thru at the burger joint. He’d only been sixteen and his parents hadn’t been thrilled when the cops had given them a courtesy call.

She added a few of her own with Perry. Cash tried to relax while hearing the stories of her brother. Perry sounded much more carefree than the soldier Cash had known.

Sissy pushed her plate away and plopped her elbows on the table. “I bet you two are close.”

Cash tensed. Oh shit, they’d never told Sissy who exactly Abbi was.

“Yeah, we were.” She passed Sissy a sad smile. “He was killed in action almost three years ago.”

A myriad of emotions crossed Sissy’s face. A mix of confusion, horror, and remorse. “I’m so sorry.”

Abbi waved her off. “It was really nice, actually, to talk about him without everyone going all gushy eyed and serious.” She took a pull off her beer. “It’s like at home, my parents use his death as a reminder, like a constant lesson. They don’t want to lose me, too.”

“Your parents ride your ass about being an adult? So hypocritical.” Sissy shook her head, brown hair flying. “Like I don’t notice that they don’t have their shit together, either.”

“Sissy!” Nothing like airing dirty laundry in front of his guest. It was different when he confided to her, but to hang it out there at the dinner table?

“I know, right?” Abbi talked over him. “I feel like it’s a lot of pressure. Like I’m the hinge that’s keeping it all together.”

Cash reclined in this chair while the girls had a major bonding moment. He’d never felt like he was keeping the family together, quite the opposite. He’d always held the blame for tearing his parents apart. The adult part of his brain knew his thought process as a kid wasn’t logical, that Dad was to blame—but did it matter?

This conversation wasn’t about him, though. Sissy had someone who understood, which was something he could never give her.

His gaze danced between them as they faced each other, talking with their hands and punctuating sentences with “dude.”

Then Sissy slammed her hand on the table, jerking his attention off Abbi’s twinkling hazel eyes. “Seriously? You haven’t?”

“I’ve been fishing, I just haven’t caught anything.”

Sissy snapped her fingers and circled her hand in the air like she was rounding them up. “Grab the gear, Cash. We need to fix this.”

Abbi giggled as she shucked her shoes. When was the last time she’d had this much fun? And alcohol wasn’t involved. Good, clean entertainment.

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