Stupid Girl

Jilly’s aged stare measured and weighed me silently. Then after a few moments, he shook his head. “The middle of the night, eh? It’s a goddamned boy, ain’t it? Well, you gonna just sit there or get up and hug your grandpa?”

Even though I still hurt, Jilly’s gruff yet correct assumption made my mouth tug into a half grin. I got up and wrapped my arms around his neck, and sat back down. “Sort of.”

He grunted, rubbed his big, gnarled hands over his knees. “Sort of my ass. Who is it, what’d he do, and do you want me to make some calls?”

I shook my head as I looked at my fierce grandfather. Making a call meant phoning friends within the Texas Rangers. “No, Jilly. No calls necessary.”

“I swear you people are lunatics.” My baby brother Seth joined us on the porch, and he walked straight over to me and plopped down next to me on the swing. He draped an arm around my shoulders. “Does this have anything to do with your truck being vandalized? Or that guy you’re dating?”

“What’d you say, boy?” Jilly asked, then looked at me. “Lil’ Bit?”

I looked at my brother. “Big mouth.” I sighed and gave my grandfather an assuring smile. “Just a college prank, Jilly. Someone jacked my wheels and tires and put my truck on concrete blocks. Threw the tires in my bed and videoed the whole thing. Posted it on YouTube. Totally separate incident.”

Jilly swore under his breath. “Well, I don’t like how this college horseshit is going at all, Lil’ Bit.” He started to rise. “I’m gonna make some calls.”

“Sit down, Dad,” my mom ordered as she stepped out onto the porch carrying a tray of coffee mugs. “There’ll be no calls, you hear me?” Her eyes softened in that knowing, mom way. “Olivia will be just fine. The last thing she needs is a pack of ornery old Rangers showing up on campus.”

“Well I ain’t budgin’ off this porch until somebody tells me what the hell’s goin’ on,” Jilly said. “And I mean it.”

The hard lines and weathered face of my grandfather’s profound stare as he waited for my story made me know for a certainty I wouldn’t get off the porch any time soon. At least until I told him and my brother what had caused me to drive from Winston in the middle of the night. So I began, feeling a little stronger after talking to my mom, and of course leaving out some of the more delicate details that a man of any age need not hear. Especially a protective little brother and a really protective ex-Texas Ranger of a grandpa.

Jilly and Seth listened quietly—a miracle in itself—and by the time I finished, and they’d given their two cents worth a line of gold pushed at the treetops as the sun began to rise. Seth pulled me to his side in the swing.

“Nothin’ like some good ole hard labor to kick that heartache’s ass,” he said with a crooked grin. He lifted my hand, turned my palm over, and ran his thumb over it. “Man, Jilly, you should see how soft these things are.” He lifted his face, and I noticed for the first time a slight shadow of stubble patching his chin. “You can help me de-poop the stalls this morning.”

“We were all going to work on a few new colts later,” Mom added. “It’ll do you some good to ride them in the round pen. And spend time with your brothers.”

She was right.

After we all had a short nap, Seth and I hit in the stalls, and he eyed me over the back of one of the new colts. A pretty little paint, his ears were pricked forward listening to every word Seth said. My brother’s eyes met mine, and it struck me how good-looking and mature he seemed to have grown in the couple of months I’d been away.

“So this guy,” Seth said as he shoveled manure into a big pile in the center aisle. He stopped, balanced his weight with his elbow on the handle. “This inked baseball player tough guy from Boston. You’re in love with him, huh?”

The words were a sock to the gut; it hurt to hear, but I breathed through it. “Yeah,” I shoveled, tossed, shoveled again. “I suppose so.”

“I don’t buy it.”

I stopped mucking and looked at him. “What do you mean?”

Seth shrugged his broad shoulders. “I don’t know, sis. From what you say he seemed completely into you. And from what you say about his background?” He shrugged. “Then an abrupt kiss-my-ass-I’m-not-into-relationships?” He laughed, spit on the ground, and shook his head. “Sorry, sis. Sounds sketchy to me. I ain’t buyin’ it.”

“Well,” I continued my chore. “It is what it is and I don’t have the heart or energy to pursue it.” I met his gaze. “It hurts too much. It hurts like crazy, Seth.”

The muscles in Seth’s jaws clenched as he turned a surprisingly mature sixteen year-old stare on me. His deepening voice softened. “I can see that.”

We finished the stalls and brushed the horses down before Kyle and Jace showed up. Both were mad as hell about the vandalism on my truck—both times—and even madder that I hadn’t told them about it. It was nice to have their support, honestly. But I no longer wanted to linger on the subject of my broken heart, my vandalized truck, or any of the above. And working hard seemed to help start the healing process. After Mom’s breakfast of fried eggs, bacon, biscuits and homemade strawberry jam, we hit the pens and started on the four colts. When it was my turn, my brothers except Jace, my mom and Jilly all found perches on the fence while I eased into the saddle. The colt immediately nutted up at the pressure from my backside, and ripped around the round pen. I held on, coaxing and squeezing my thighs around him, trying to calm him, but he wasn’t having any of it. Not this day. Just when I thought I’d bail, he threw me—hard. My face plowed into one of the posts, and my brother Jace skidded on his knees in the dirt beside me.

“Lil’ Bit, you okay?” he asked. He moved my braid and helped me to sit, then grasped my jaw, inspecting my injury.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. I welcomed the pain in my face. It drew away from the ache in my heart.

Kyle hopped down and bent over at the knees. “You’re gonna have a nice shiner there, darlin’.”

I didn’t even care.

By late afternoon, all four colts had been ridden, put up, brushed. Mom made pot roast and potatoes, and it felt good to sit around my familiar dinner table with my family beside me. So good that I knew leaving in the morning would be more difficult than it had been the first time. I knew I had to study, too, and I hated to see my two older brothers leave so early. Both lived within a fifteen minute ride from the ranch, but Mom must’ve known I wouldn’t be able to study with them around and told them to skedaddle. One of her favorite words. Ever.

On the porch, with my textbook and notes spread out on the swing, I read and studied until the fading light made it too difficult to see. I stretched, yawned. Thought about Brax, winced at the pain it caused. At the hurt I knew would still be there once I got back to campus. Then the screen door creaked open, and Jilly walked out.

“You stare at those books long enough yet?” he asked, but took the rocking chair anyway.

I grinned and closed the text. “Yes sir, I have. Just finished up.”

“Hmm.” Jilly wore his long white hair pulled back into a low ponytail, and almost always wore a hat. It perched now on his head, and he pulled it down, closer to his brow. Jilly had kind eyes; soft brown and always with a twinkle. Which belied his extreme toughness. To his family, though, his heart was wide open. “Sky’s supposed to be clear tonight. Only God’s thumbnail to get in the way.”

My mouth twitched at my grandfather’s none-too-subtle hint. “Sounds perfect to me.”

Jilly looked at me, square in the eye as he always did. “Let me tell you somethin’, Lil’ Bit. And I want you to push aside the pain in your heart long enough to hear me.” He rocked back. “I know you’re feeling about as low as you can feel right now. Heartaches hurt like hell. There’s no way around that.” He pushed his hat back, and I could see his expression clearly; sincere, angry, and full of wisdom. “The only boy good enough for you darlin’ is one who’d sacrifice everything to have you. I’m talkin’ everything important to him, just to keep you. No matter the cost. Otherwise,” he rubbed his jaw, “he ain’t worth his weight, pound for pound, in pure solid horseshit. He just ain’t, Olivia Grace. You remember that.”

I rose from my seat to throw my arms around my grandfather, squeezing him tight, drawing in his familiar, comforting scent. His big rough hands patted my back, and he hugged me, too. “I’ll remember,” I said. “I love you, Jilly.”

Jilly cleared his throat. “I love you too, Lil’ Bit. Now come on.” I let him loose and he rose from the rocker. “Let’s go put that big scope in the barn to use before the sky clouds up and we won’t be able to see a damn thing.”

Jilly and I watched the sky for some time that night. Neither of us brought up my heartbreak or Brax again. And I was fine with that. What’d needed to be said, had been. My family provided a deep comfort within me that nothing or no one could possibly ever replace. Later, Jilly, Mom, Seth and I played a few rounds of Texas Hold ‘Em, and chatted about plans for Thanksgiving. A family in need had been chosen at church and I was going to help Mom and a few others prepare the whole turkey dinner to take to them the night before. It was something our church did every year, and I remembered not all that long ago that our own family had been chosen. It was a good thing, and we looked forward to it every year.

Before I turned in for the night, Seth had knocked on my door, sat on the edge of my bed, and caught me up on local stuff. He told me about a girl he was interested in, how he was acing his classes without hardly even trying, and how he’d won three more shooting trophies. He looked at me then, shadows falling on his handsome face in the dim lamp light of my room, looking older than his years. “You gonna be okay, Bit?”

I cocked my head. “When did you get all grown up and sweet and stuff?”

He softly punched my arm. “I’ve always been this awesome. Now I mean it. Are you?”

I gave my brother an assuring smile. “Yeah, brat. I will be.”

I hoped I was right.

The next morning I left my family on the porch and drove straight to class. It was a long drive. I felt better; truly, I did. Jilly’s words, my mom’s comfort, and brothers’ support all converged and made me stronger. But the hurt was fresh. Deep. And I knew realistically it wouldn’t simply … go away, just like that. I mean, how could it? Despite the hurt, the slap in the face, I’d fallen in love with Brax. True love, my mom said, doesn’t fade overnight. She was right. It hadn’t. And I was stuck dealing with it. At least now, though, I believed I could. Slowly. Over time. But trust? Boy, that one had taken a big ding. I wouldn’t hand that out so easily again. Ever.

Butterflies ripped into me as I stepped into humanities. I forced my eyes to avoid the seats Brax and I usually took in the far corner of the auditorium; instead I turned down Kelsy’s aisle and grabbed an empty chair four seats behind his. Far away from Brax, and behind Kelsy, with an easy shot up the aisle to escape both directly after class.

The moment I slid into my chair, Kelsy stepped into the room. My gaze drifted up and I was shocked to see his face had been recently beaten. One eye was mostly swollen shut, with red and purple bruising all around it. His jaw was bruised. Lip split. A cut to the forehead. His gaze caught mine for a second, and he noticed my own blackened eye. He said nothing and folded into his chair, his back to me. I couldn’t help wondering what—or who—had done that to him. And why.

Brax didn’t come to class. Part of me felt relieved. Almost like something heavy had just been lifted off my chest, and to be honest that bothered me. The other part was … I don’t know. I couldn’t label it. The second lecture was over I was ready, and darted up the aisle and out of class.

“Liv, wait!” Kelsy’s voice sounded behind me, but I ignored it, hurried past other students hustling to class. My blackened eye caught some curious glances, but no one stopped me, no one spoke, and I hurried to my next class. I didn’t want to talk to Kelsy, not at all. I kept my head down, fearful of accidentally running straight into Brax, of falling apart and letting the wide split of my broken heart bleed all over the place for everyone to see. I didn’t see him, and Kelsy didn’t pursue me, either. By the time I started my physics exam, I could actually focus on it. Luckily it was a subject I loved. Most of the content I’d studied in one form or another on my own, since it was relative to astronomy. After I finished the exam, the professor pulled me aside.

“Ms. Beaumont?”

I stopped and looked at him. “Yes, sir?”

His gaze moved to my eye. “Is … everything all right?”

“Oh,” I said, and my fingertips brushed the tender skin. “Yes, sir, I was thrown off a horse, is all.”

He inclined his head to the door, dismissing me, and I hurried outside. I’d just made it to my truck, had the key in the keyhole, when his voice stopped me cold.

“Gracie.”

My hand froze on the door handle, and my breath left my lungs, leaving me weak, dizzy. I didn’t turn around. I said nothing. Just stood still, gripping the metal. I forced myself to breathe in. Out. In again.

His hand went to my shoulder and turned me around.

I didn’t look at his face; I kept my eyes trained on his chest. I knew he stared at my blackened eye.

His knuckles brushed my jaw, tilted my head up. Made me look at him. “What the hell happened to you?”