Page 39 of Catching Sparks

“You have to take care of yourself. I’m not here to make sure that you are?—”

She pivots in front of me, gently pulling my hand from my pocket before taking it into hers. Her green eyes are so similar to mine, yet not as they stare at me with a daring sense of knowing. They’re one solid colour, whereas mine shift between two whenever they wish to.

“I am fine. No slips or tumbles in months. I’m careful, but I also know my limits better than even you know them, Garrison,” she explains, as if that should be enough to make me snap my fingers and dissolve all of my worry and doubt.

“Promise me that you’ll be more careful. Especially over these next two months.”

She nods. “I promise. Now, can we please just chat? I’ve missed you this week. The house is too quiet without your scoffing about and pointless arguments with your father. I want to hear all about Cherry Peak.”

We settle into two chairs, and I take a long swig of the cranberry juice. “You would find it quite fascinating. The horses especially.”

“Oh, tell me about them! Are they as gorgeous as they look on TV? Oh, how I’ve always wanted to ride one.”

“I’ve only been up close with one, and he looked more like a war horse than a pet.”

“That isn’t such a bad thing in a place like that, though, is it?”

“The ranch isn’t a harsh place. It probably has more to do with its rider than the environment,” I mutter.

“Ah. Wade Steele’s horse, I’m assuming?”

“The one and only.”

Mom takes a sip of her juice and hums. “It’s been hard on you being there.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting a welcome parade.”

“I would certainly hope not. You’re my boy, and I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything, but sometimes, you can be a real jackass. And you’ve been a huge one to Brody Steele.”

A laugh rips up my throat. “Mom!”

“It’s true! Don’t try and insult me by denying it either. I’d bet that you haven’t made it very easy for them to enjoy your company there.”

“This is offensive.”

“Am I wrong?” she pushes, clasping her hands and resting them beneath her chin. “You can’t demand respect without offering it in return. Especially when they’re already going out of their way to help you.”

“I still can’t believe you went along with his plan in the first place,” I tell her, sounding like an insolent child and hating it.

“I agree with it, even if it’s a bit unorthodox.”

“A lot unorthodox. I could lose my company, Mom.” My biggest fear comes tumbling out verbally for the first time. I drink the rest of the juice to keep from throwing up.

“You will not lose the company. That’s a promise. No matter what,” she swears.

Setting down the empty glass, I chew on the inside of my cheek and nod. If losing Swift Edge does become a reality, she won’t have the ability to stop it from happening, but her support? That’s something I’ll never take for granted.

So, for the moment, I let it rest. I didn’t come here to wallow, and as often as it comes around to bite me in the ass, right now, I’m proud to be stubborn. It keeps me focused on why I’m here.

Everything else can wait.

14

POPPY

After another week of cold showers, Darren dumps a box of tools in the Beautifully Bold backroom and tugs his jeans higher up his waist. They’re filthy, with holes and hanging loose threads up and down the thighs. I eye the paint splatters on his shirt and caked beneath his fingernails.

“Did some painting this morning, did you?”