Page 14 of Claiming What Is Mine

Chapter Eight

Gabe

I wantedto say thank you. I yelled after her. Tried to tell her how much last night meant, but she pulled away so fast I’m not sure she heard any of it. I wasn’t oblivious to the doubt in her words this morning. I know she’s regretting what happened—but not me.

Not one bit.

Last night was exactly what I needed to prove she’s all there is for me. All there ever has been. What I need to do now is figure out how to help her see it too. I climb into the cab of my truck, not entirely ready to be behind the wheel. My head aches, I can only see out of one eye, and I’m too keyed up with thoughts about Mer to go home and just…be alone.

Through the haze of a hangover I remember that from here, Christy’s old place is closer than the ranch—and with Hank living there now, I figure I can stop in and sleep it off for a while. Jack and Frank are staying with him while they’re in town anyway. Maybe they’ll be the distraction I need. With my destination set, I start the engine and take a quick look in the mirror to survey the damage. DAMN. If she took me home looking like this, she must love me, too. Right? I mean…somewhere in there.

I’ve never been a cowboy hat kind of guy. That’s Chet’s deal. An old ball cap with a deeply curved bill has always been more my speed. The kind of hat that shows a man has spent time shaping it to his liking. I reach for the one on the dash and pull it down as far as I can manage without covering my eyes. You only have to make it to Hank’s. You can do this. I shift the truck into gear and ease out of the lot, the rumble of the exhaust slow and steady.

When I stop in front of Hank’s house, Jack comes through the door holding an apple between his teeth as he raises his arms in a WTF gesture. I cut the engine and ease out of the cab. “What’s up?” I ask, shielding my eyes from the bright sun overhead and the glare reflecting off the gravel.

Jack takes the apple out of his mouth. “What’s up? That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?” He turns and yells into the house through the screen door, “Hey, I found him.” A few seconds later, Frank and Hank shuffle out to stand at Jack’s side.

“What the hell, Gabe?” There’s a snide tone in Frank’s voice. Ordinarily, I’d call him out for talking to me that way. As he was so quick to point out when I needed help with my tie, I am older than him. But this morning, I’m too weak and too distracted to bother.

“Good to see you, too. What’s got you stooges all spun up?”

“Um, maybe the fact that you disappeared last night, and no one had a clue where you were,” Frank replies, his voice curt.

I try to joke, hoping to diffuse the situation. “You seem…upset.”

Hank cocks his head. “Since when do you not at least reply to your text messages, man?”

My phone? Shit, where’s my phone? I feel around the pockets of my rented monkey suit. “I, uh, seem to have misplaced my cell phone. Why? What’d you all think? I fell off a cliff?”

“Maybe, ” Hank says. “The shape you were in. Didn’t seem like you could get very far, but then you vanished. There was no sign of you, anywhere.”

Jack takes a bite from his apple. “Where’d you get off to?”

“And how’d you get there?” Hank adds.

“Jeez. If you’re going to keep rapid firing questions at me, somebody had better start writing them down.” I put my hand to my aching head. “You see Hank, a man doesn’t kiss and tell…” I start.

Hank shakes his head in disbelief. “Bullshit. Even you couldn’t have hooked up with someone last night.”

“Nope. There’s no way,” Frank chimes in. “Not in your condition.”

“Believe what you will, boys. Believe what you will.” In my head, my next move is going to be a confident stride across the driveway past my brothers to the door. But what actually happens is that I miss my second step, stumble, and almost fall flat on my face.

Damnit. I am never drinking again.

My brothers erupt in laughter, with Frank and Jack showing pity as they come to my aid, each taking an arm to help me up the steps. Again, in my head I’d like to push them away and prove I can make it under my own steam, but given the way I feel, I’m grateful for the assistance. They aim me at the couch, but when they release my arms I pass the living room entirely and head down the hall for a bedroom. “Need sleep,” I moan. At this point, I don’t care where. I push through the first door and drop, face first, onto the bed.

* * *

I wake up face down,dress shoes dangling off the end of the mattress. I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep. I am, however, beginning to feel like I might survive. I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, thinking back on last night and trying to recall some of the murkier details.

Even though the specifics of the evening are sketchy, I feel better, like a decades-old weight has been lifted from my chest. I put my feelings out there, bared my soul to the woman I love.

But what the hell did I say, exactly? I’m still working that out.

I keep trying to remember the particulars, but the memories come in flashes and those are blurry.

We sat together in the hay, looking up at the stars.

---