“I don’t think that’s necessary. Garth’s a tough guy—he’s a bull rider after all. He’s used to a few bumps and bruises,” Mr. Gibson said. “I think he can wait fifteen minutes before having his boo-boos fixed up. Isn’t that right, Garth?”
If the tension in the air hadn’t been so thick, I might have chuckled when the word boo-boos came out of Mr. Gibson’s mouth. “This is nothing.” I gave a dismissive wave. “I’m fit for a full day of ranch work right now, so a little manly conversation will be a walk in the park.”
“I’ll wait for you on the porch.” Mr. Gibson stopped in front of Josie and studied her face. He stroked her cheek gently then kissed the top of her head. I didn’t miss the sideways look he shot me as he headed out the front door.
“I’m fine,” I said as Josie opened her mouth. “If I was in his shoes and my daughter came through the door with a bruise on her face, I sure wouldn’t be talking to the guy who was responsible for her.” I pressed closer to her and stroked her cheek with my thumb. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
Her eyes met mine as a silent exchange passed between us. “Thanks for the date.”
I laughed a few notes. What a date it had been. It had to rank up there with the most extreme dates ever. “Thank you for letting me take you on a date.”
“I figured it was about time.” Her hands rested on my chest, and she let a smile come out.
“You figured right.” Leaning in, I pressed my lips into the corner of hers. Mrs. Gibson shifted and looked away. I inhaled, breathing Josie in, then let her go. I had a concerned father waiting for me—who hopefully wasn’t waiting for me with the barrel aimed and trigger cocked. When I turned to close the front door behind me, I found Josie in the same spot, watching me with sad eyes. It took everything in me not to rush back to her and fix whatever was troubling her.
Mr. Gibson was waiting for me just outside the door, leaning into the porch railing with his arms crossed. No shotguns in sight. “It’s obvious to me you want nothing but the best for my daughter,” he began as soon as I’d closed the door, “but you and me both know that you’re not capable of giving her that.”
Shit. And I thought I was done taking hard blows for the night. “So we’re just diving straight into this?”
“I took you for a man who doesn’t like to bullshit around the point, kind of like me. If I’ve got that wrong, then please correct me and we can do some ice-breaking by talking about the weather, or what the Farmer’s Almanac is predicting for rainfall this summer, or how the new cafe in town serves piss poor coffee.”
“You’re right. Let’s get straight to the point.” I moved beside the rocking chair across from him, but I didn’t sit in it the way my body was aching to. I would stand like a man in front of Mr. Gibson and whatever he was about to throw at me.
“I knew your daddy way back. Your mama, too.” Mr. Gibson wasn’t wasting time, and I couldn’t blame him for that. Sunrise was only a few hours away. “She was a good woman, and he was a well-intending man, but you of all people know how that worked out.” He paused, letting that sink in. Letting all of the memories and images I did a decent job of repressing flood back into the forefront of my mind. My pain shot up a few levels. “The only difference between your dad and mom’s situation and you and Josie’s is that Josie has a protective and concerned father. I like you, son—you’re a decent enough kid who I know cares for my daughter—but it wouldn’t matter if I loved you so much I’d profess you my new religion. I won’t let my daughter fall victim to what your daddy, and his daddy, did to the women they claim to love.”
I grabbed the back of the porch chair to steady myself. “I wouldn’t do that to her. I’d never hurt her. I care about Josie.”
His eyes ran down me, taking me in. A person who’d lived through cycling around in a tornado wouldn’t have come out as tore up as I looked. “You might not intend to hurt her, but there’s nothing about being with you—past, present, and future—that won’t hurt her.”
My hands gripped the rocking chair so hard my fingers shook. “Since you and I don’t know each other all that well and we’ve never exactly taken the time to get to know each other well, let me explain something to you. On my list of priorities, number one has to do with never hurting Josie. It always has been, and it always will be. Number two on that list is protecting her from whatever or whoever else might hurt her.”
Mr. Gibson’s eyebrows lifted. “Kind of like you protected her tonight?” That was the verbal hit equivalent of the baseball bat hits I’d taken. “I don’t doubt those are your priorities, but here’s the thing, son. How can those be realistic priorities? You and I both know you’ve hurt her plenty in the past, and if it isn’t you in the future, someone or something is going to wind up doing much worse than that grapefruit-sized bruise on her cheek tonight.”
I wanted to argue, to deny I’d ever done anything to hurt her, but that would be one of the biggest lies I’d ever tell. Mr. Gibson was right—I’d hurt Josie in ways I’d kill another person for doing to her. Even though I wanted to believe I’d learned my lesson, I wasn’t sure if that was reality. Mr. Gibson was right again—I might have known my priorities, but were the realistic ones?I didn’t have the answer to that question. I hung my head between my arms and focused on breathing. I didn’t know what to say next. I didn’t know what to do next. Life was closing in on me, and I didn’t feel strong enough to hold the walls back from crushing me.
“Life isn’t fair, Garth. That is one lesson I learned a long time ago.” Mr. Gibson’s voice wasn’t quite as harsh. Probably because he knew he’d beaten me down so much I couldn’t fall any lower. “I’m an aging rancher running a fifth-generation ranch with one son who wants nothing to do with ranching and one daughter who can’t run it on her own. You drew the short straw as to what family you were born into.”
I squeezed my eyes closed. “I wasn’t born into a family. I was born into a dysfunctional f**king mess.” That right there was getting straight to the point. A minute or two of silence passed between us. I expected he was waiting for me to say something, but there was nothing I could say to explain myself. There was nothing left to say.
“I know you would never try to drag Josie down with you, but it’s inevitable. It’s kind of like a person with a cold. They might not mean to spread it, but they can’t do anything to stop it either.”
I finally opened my eyes. Had he just said what I’d known for so long but tried to ignore during the past few weeks with Josie? “Are you saying I’m a virus?”
Mr. Gibson’s silence was all the answer I needed. “I’m saying I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep my daughter healthy and safe.”
“I am, too.” I let go of the chair and tried to stand tall, but it wasn’t happening. I was too beat down, physically and mentally.
Shoving off of the railing, he approached me until only a foot of cool night air separated us. “Can you look me in the eye and promise me, as a man, that Josie wouldn’t be better off falling in love and settling down with someone else? Can you look me in the eye and guarantee me that the best life she could expect to lead would be one with you?”
Yes! I wanted to shout. Absolutely! But what I wanted and what I knew were two very different things. Confusion hadn’t only settled in; it had taken over.
Mr. Gibson waited for me to respond, but when a minute passed with nothing from me, he patted my shoulder and headed for the door. “Do the right thing. I’ll give you until morning to do it yourself, or I’ll do it for you. This ends come tomorrow, you hear?”
Having a person order me to stay away from the one thing that seemed more essential to my life than oxygen didn’t settle well with me. “I’ll leave, but you won’t be able to keep Josie and me apart. Fifteen years and you’ve never been able to keep us apart. I want her, and she wants me, too. That’s something you’re just going to have to deal with.”
Mr. Gibson’s hand stayed on my shoulder, and he surveyed me with almost a . . . pitiful look. “She doesn’t want you. She wants the idea of you. The idea of the lost and lonely boy from her past that needs saving. Nothing more. I promise when you leave tomorrow and you stay away, she’ll be just fine.”
I had to unclench my jaw before I could reply. “Josie’s never been able to just ‘get over’ me, and she won’t be able to now. I know how she feels because it’s the exact same way I do about her.”
“You’ve never given her a chance to get over you. You two have gone through so many ups and downs I can’t keep it straight.” Mr. Gibson shook his head and dropped his hand from my shoulder. “Give her space, give her time, and she’ll move on. She’ll move on to the life she deserves. The life even you know she deserves.” Our to-the-point conversation apparently done, Mr. Gibson slipped inside the door and closed it behind him.
Just like that, I’d been locked out of her life.
Chapter Thirteen
IT WAS MY last night sleeping under the Gibsons’ roof. I hadn’t yet decided if I’d remove myself or if Mr. Gibson and his shotgun would have to do the removing, but I held off sleep for as long as I could realizing tomorrow night, Josie wouldn’t be a mere few rooms away.
After Mr. Gibson’s and my conversation, I’d stood out on that porch for a while. I heard Mrs. Gibson all but force Josie up to bed when she headed for the front door to find me. I waited another hour after all the lights in the house had gone out. I was cold and I’d been beaten within a few inches of my life, but I felt numb. Everything inside and outside of me felt anesthetized. Everything but my heart. It ached so badly I almost convinced myself I was having a heart attack.
What Josie’s dad had said was right. All of it. I might have made a solemn vow with myself never to hurt her and to keep her protected, but I seemed incapable of either. While I knew I couldn’t assume the trend would carry into the future, I couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t, and until I knew for sure that I wouldn’t hurt her, I couldn’t be around her. Not after what had happened. Josie would wear a fist-sized bruise on her face the rest of the month because the shit that followed me at every turn had caught sight of her and decided to share the wealth.
So I was leaving. I wouldn’t make Mr. Gibson throw me out. I’d pack my bags and leave until I figured out what needed figuring out. Which, when it came to me, was like saying I needed to figure out everything. I hadn’t decided what I’d say to Josie yet, or if anything I could say would explain it all to her. How could I express to her that I was leaving her for her own good? Especially when I knew neither one of us would feel good about it. That was the question I was stuck on when my body finally gave in and gave up to sleep.