Page 108 of His Old Lady

Shrugging out of the blanket, she walked barefoot toward Curley. Not wanting to pressure him to talk when he closed himself off but wanting to be there for him the way he'd been here for her, she wrapped her arms around him from behind.

She pressed her cheek against his back. His body remained stiff and unbendable. She needed to move on with her life, not only for her sake but for his. What happened with Cal should never have happened. She would never know why Cal went off the deep-end, but looking back, there were warning signs.

Even Angela, Stephanie, and Jenna had noticed Cal's changes toward her and were worried. She'd thought the best thing to do was quit working at the lounge, and that would be enough to stop his infatuation with her. But it hadn't been enough.

It wasn't her that Cal wanted. He'd wanted Celia.

Maybe if he would've gotten help or talked to a therapist, he could've worked through his problems. Curley had shot him to protect her, and if he hadn't, it might've been her who'd killed him. She understood. Now, she had to accept what had happened.

She hoped Curley could, too.

The sun had descended over the ridge, casting shade on the field, though it would be daylight for a few more hours. All the wildflowers had closed their blooms, resting until the sun shined on them again, when they'd show their full beauty.

Plants were much like people; her Grandma June would say. Most start out as nothing, but with love and care, they'd grow and bloom. Loneliness and neglect would kill them.

"There are things I want." Curley rubbed the end of his cigarette between his fingers and pocketed the butt.

She pressed her lips against his back, wanting to hear all his dreams. Focusing on him helped her concentrate on what was important to her.

"I always dreamed of you having greenhouses out here, filled with flowers that were alive and colorful, like you." As quickly as he stopped, he continued. "I'd ride home from the clubhouse, grab a beer, and sit on the deck watching you with your hands in the dirt and your ass in the air."

Her stomach fluttered, imagining doing that for him.

It wasn't the first time he'd brought up her starting the nursery here. She wasn't opposed to it. It would be a dream for her, too.

She was lost in what would happen. Grandma June's house needed to sell. The insurance company still hadn't paid her for the loss of her business.

The cords on his back tightened. "Faye?"

"Hm?"

"Cal Williams wasn't the first man I've killed," he said.

She pressed her forehead against his back and closed her eyes. "I don't want to know."

"Within Tarkio...things happen."

It was hard enough to face what Uncle Walker had done to take him away from her. She couldn't fathom losing Curley. Whatever he'd done, for whatever reason, that was in the past. He would never hurt her. She trusted him more than she trusted herself.

"Fuck," he mumbled under his breath. "I never wanted you to know. I thought I was protecting you, and I've only been protecting myself."

"After what you did for me. I'd never tell anyone." She circled him, stopping in front of him. "You don't have to say more."

Curley stared over her head, refusing to look at her.

She fisted his vest and tried to shake him. "Hey, I love you. Nothing is going to change that. Nothing."

He looked down. The torment in his eyes warned her something else was going on.

"Faye, your uncle, wasn't responsible for killing the two Cusclan members," he said.

Her head came back, and she studied him. Her glimmer of hope at getting Uncle Walker back had her grasping for justice. "He's innocent?"

"For those crimes, yes."

She blew out her breath. "We need to tell someone. They-they could give him a retrial, or you can provide evidence, proving his inno—"

"I killed them."

The little strength she held on to disappeared. She swayed back on the heels of her feet. Staring at Curley, she wondered if she knew anything about him, or if everything was a lie.

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