Page 6 of Cinnamon Cider Whiskey
Someone to carry on the family name. A little person he could mold and shape into an exact replica of himself.
But when Rosy died, Pete changed. He blamed Cinnamon and when she couldn’t get pregnant again, he started beating her. It wasn’t all the time, but as the years passed, it worsened. Cinnamon had enough. Pete couldn’t ever get past the loss of their little girl and he wanted a son in the worst way. He’d never go to counseling and his fists continued to land on Cinnamon’s face.
It was time to put an end to the insanity.
“Come in.” Austin stepped aside and then snagged her bags. “Where’s Pete?” he asked with a tight tone.
“In jail, for now.”
“That’s a good place for him.” Austin set her luggage by the front bedroom.
She knew this cabin well. A family friend had once occupied it. It had two bedrooms, a family room, and a kitchen. It was located at the north end of the ranch near the bull riding school. Those living in it usually taught lessons or worked at the breeding stables.
Austin had gone to school to study Equine Science. He wanted to be involved in the care and treatment of horses and ranch management. He’d grown up on Whiskey Ranch and intended to return and work there—with her. But that dream was destroyed the day she got pregnant.
She could never say Rosy had been a mistake. She loved her daughter and cherished every second she had with Rosy. For three years she and Pete had made a decent life. But it hadn’t lasted. She missed the ranch. Her family.
And Austin.
“I don’t need anI told you so.”
“I’m not saying that.” He planted his hands on his hips. “But those black eyes, the fat lip, and your limp make it hard not to be glad that man is behind bars.”
“We both know he’ll be out soon enough and he’s going to come looking for me. The first place will be at JW’s. Or maybe Georgia Moon and Luke’s. I just need a night or two to figure out my next move, and then I’ll be gone.”
“Do any of your cousins know you left?”
“I’ll call them in the morning.”
“Do you need ice? That swelling is pretty bad.”
“It’s fine. The cops made me go to the hospital.” She stepped around him, making her way into the family room. The furniture had changed since the last time she’d been in this particular cabin. Tired from the evening’s horrid events, she plopped herself on the sofa. She groaned, grabbing her midsection.
Austin rushed to her side. Gently, he brushed her hand away and lifted her shirt.
“That motherfucker,” he mumbled.
Tears filled her eyes.
“Did he stab you? I counted eighteen stitches.” Austin adjusted her shirt. He lifted her chin with his thumb and forefinger and examined her face. “You’re limping something awful. Do you have more stitches in your leg?”
“I don’t want to talk about this now.”
“You don’t get to show up at my house in the middle of the night, tell me that your husband is in jail for beating you, and not expect me to ask questions, especially when you know my history with domestic violence.”
“I thought you of all people would understand and not grill me.”
“For fuck’s sake, Cinnamon. That’s not what I’m doing. I want to know what happened. What’s been happening. Ever since you called me over a year ago, I’ve been worried sick aboutyou. I know your cousins have all been trying to get you to leave that asshole for years.” He pressed his finger gently over her bruised lip. “I do get that it’s not easy. I understand the hold an abuser has over their victims. This is not your fault. But now that you’ve taken the first step, you have to do the hard part and stick with it.”
“You don’t get to tell me what I need to do. You left me years ago.” She closed her eyes. She’d told herself on the ride over she wouldn’t get into this conversation with Austin. It wasn’t the right time or place. What happened between them was long ago and she had no right to still be angry. It was childish and stupid.
This wasn’t his fault either.
But sometimes it was easier to blame him because deep down she still loved him.
“I know you’re hurting and if you want to take it out on me, go ahead,” he said.
She blinked. “No. I’m sorry. It’s just, you have no idea what my life has been like since my daughter died.”
