Page 48 of Auctioned to the Cowboys

We clean up the mess in the kitchen and give Taylor enough time and space to at least get herself calm again. Jesse wanted to follow her immediately, but I put my foot down. No good was going to come of another tense conversation. Maverick hates confrontation, and Jesse has no head for listening to what other people need when it goes against his own desires. I’m out of my depth, but I know I have the best chance of hearing Taylor’s concerns and smoothing the wrinkles between us all. I feel awkward as I approach her room as softly as I can. My bulk is designed for giant, powerful strides, and grueling labor, not moving stealthily. The fact that I’m on my way to comfort someone that I’m truly starting to care about is a strange yet powerful motivator. I stop for a moment, sure I can hear her crying and moving around. But then there’s nothing. I knock and wait. There’s a shuffling sound. “Who is it?”

“Me, Clint. The others have gone off to the bunkhouse. Can I come in?” If she says no, would I go in anyway? After what just happened, I need to respect her space.

After a few moments, she replies. “Come in.”

The door creaks as I push it open. Standing with the bright late afternoon sunshine behind me, the darkness in Taylor’s room takes time for my eyes to adjust. She has the drapes pulled shut and is lying flat on her bed.

“Are you all right, Taylor?”

She shakes her head.

“Jesse can be a real dick sometimes.” I want to lighten the mood, and it works.

She laughs in a way that sounds exasperated. “He sure can be.”

“He doesn’t mean to be so pigheaded. He’s just scared, you know? Doesn’t want to lose the future he’s been dreaming about.” I glance around her room, realizing there’s something very wrong. It’s a mess as if she has been turning it upside down. Then I notice the small bag she arrived with, half-stuffed with clothing spilling out as if I caught her packing to leave. Before feigning sleep…

“What’s going on, Taylor?”

She sits up, knowing full well what I’m thinking. “I need to leave.”

“What? Why?” Before she has a chance to say anything I put up my hand. “What happened downstairs… we were just blowing off steam, okay. And Jesse was wrong, but he knows that, okay. He wants to make things right. We all do.”

Taylor shakes her head. “My sister’s in trouble.” Her eyes focus on the comforter, and her hands twist a part of the material. “She’s in trouble.”

“Your sister?” The girl I saw in the picture?

“I was waiting for you all to go, then I was going to leave the ranch.”

“Alone?” I’m shocked she’d even consider it. She wouldn’t have gotten far without a car. On foot, it would take an hour to get to the road, and then she’d have to hitchhike.

Jeez. She must really have wanted to get away from us. Worse, she obviously doesn’t trust us to help her when she’s in trouble. My gut clenches.

She shrugs, her expression hopeless. “Then I realized that I had no idea where we were or how I would get there. It’s all so hopeless.” With that, she breaks down into uncontrollable sobs, her body trembling with every juddering inhale. I sit next to her, pulling her into my arms. She doesn’t resist my embrace and sinks her face into my neck. In moments, she soaks the collar of my shirt with her tears. “It’s okay, Taylor. Just tell me what happened.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” She sounds so defeated, and her lack of faith in me is as bracing as an ice-cold water shower. She’s my wife and she didn’t feel like she could turn to me in her hour of need. She didn’t trust me to comprehend her trouble or her pain.

I’m failing at this.

“Your problems are mine, Taylor. That’s how this works.” There’s a moment’s silence. She shifts her hold in my arms and looks up at me. Searching her eyes, I find pain, fear, and panic.

“My sister’s in danger.”

“Who from?”

“My father. He’s a drunk. He’s abusive. When I was there, I could protect Molly, but now she’s all alone with him.”

I fix my jaw, the anger I feel at Taylor’s pain and worry so visceral it’s hard to hold her gently in my arms.

“Why did you leave then?” I ask. Surely if she was so worried about Molly, she should have stayed. Auctioning herself seems like a strange thing to do.

“He sold me to clear his debts and now he wants to do the same to my sister.”

“He sold you?” My stomach clenches as the realization of what Taylor’s been through barrels towards me full force.

Taylor doesn’t respond to my questions. “Molly’s with a friend of mine, but she can only stay there for so long. I need to get to her, Clint. I need to find a place where she’ll be safe.”

“She’ll be safe here,” I say.

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