Page 148 of Dust Storm

“You’ve been pacing,” Cassandra said when she pulled back, lips full and swollen from the pressure of the moment.

I frowned. “How do you know I’ve been pacing?”

“Because there’s nowhere for you to escape. There’s no horse to ride to clear your head. There’s no machinery for you to tinkerwith.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and raked her fingers through my hair. “Sit down.”

“I’ll just get antsy and start pacing again,” I admitted.

“Sit, Christian.” She pushed the burger bag into my hand. “Eat.”

“Cass—”

“I’m not asking.”

And for some reason, I was okay with not being in charge for once.

Cassandra sat beside me as I unwrapped the burger and took a few bites. I knew I needed to eat, but my appetite had vanished.

My leg started bouncing as all those “what ifs” came rushing back. I started picking at a spot on my jeans. Every time the doors opened, I whipped around to see if it was someone coming to give us an update about Ray.

Hours passed with no news. With each loop of the clock, my legs jittered harder and harder.

“Come on,” Cassandra said, taking my hand.

I pulled my gaze away from the doors. “Where?”

“If you’re going to pace, then I’m going to pace with you.”

Cassandra linked our fingers together, not caring that my family was watching as she led me away and started a loop around a section of chairs.

“Talk to me, cowboy.”

I gave her hand a squeeze, but I didn’t know where to start.

“When I first started going to a therapist, I couldn’t sit down,” I admitted.

“After Gretchen died?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Before that. I, uh… I started going after Nate got hurt overseas.”

She bumped my arm with her head. “Wanna tell me about it?”

I swallowed, reliving the moment we found out what had happened. “Nate… He, uh—he was deployed in Iraq and was caught in an attack by a suicide bomber. One of his guys was killed. He was injured and airlifted out to an Army hospital in Germany. At the time, he was married to this woman named Vanessa. She got the notification that he had been injured and came out of the house screaming. Terrified. I was coming up from the pasture with my dad. I saw her from a distance and caught up to her. You know what it’s like living that close to each other. You hear everything. Gretchen was pregnant with Gracie, and Bree was a toddler. Gretchen came out of the house to see what the ruckus was about, and Vanessa lost it. She was hysterical. It took me, Gretchen, and my parents to calm her down, all while we were wondering if he was alive or not.”

Cassandra squeezed my hand. “I can’t imagine coping with that.”

“I wasn’t sleeping. I’d work all day, then work some more. But after Nate was brought home, it didn’t get better. Gretchen passed away. Nate and Vanessa separated. He got deployed again. They divorced. And I…”

She looked up, waiting for me to bring myself to say it.

“I blamed myself.” I stroked my hand down my beard. “I blamed myself for all of it. I would lie awake at night, wondering if I could have done something that would have made him stay and work on the ranch rather than joining the Army.”

“But it’s also where he met Becks, right?”

I nodded. “Gretchen’s accident happened not long after Nate came home. I was finally starting to let go of some of that guilt. Gracie was born. Then Gretchen was taken away from me. I blamed myself for that too. I’d pace the house, in the middle of the night, trying to get Gracie to stop crying, and wonder why I hadn’t gone to get the groceries for her. And now?—”

Cassandra stopped me in the middle of our loop and pressed her hands to my cheeks. “I need you to hear me. It’s not your fault.”

I held on to her wrists, keeping her hands there. Cassandra’s touch felt good. “That’s easier to say than to live with.”

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