Page 10 of Long Past Dawn
“Had to call my daddy and report my whereabouts?”
I handed him my entire cup of coffee and carried his cup back into the kitchen. I grabbed a clean mug for myself and refilled it, then wandered back to sit in the chair opposite the couch. If he decided to puke, I wanted to be out of his projectile range.
“No, I called your best friend and told him you hadn’t frozen to death in a ditch. He was out on Rapunzel looking for you, just like he has been the last three nights.”
“I didn’t ask him to be. He knew I was fine. I did my chores.”
“Which you already pointed out,” I agreed. “And as Blaze pointed out, you’d do your chores if you were dead. I don’t honestly care, Beau. I have my own problems, and you’re interrupting my sleep. You’re welcome to crash upstairs for the night. It’s time to sober up. Drunk doesn’t look good on you.”
“I’m not that drunk,” he said, his words slurring slightly. “I’ve been drunker.”
I leaned forward, a thought seeping into my sleep-deprived brain. “How did you get here? Did you drive? Is Cloudy Day outside in the cold?”
I forced myself not to roll my eyes at the name of his horse. He named him Cloudy Day because his markings look like clouds in the sky. He wasn’t wrong, but it was still a ridiculous name for a horse.
“No, Mommy, I didn’t drive, and my horse is in the stable. Ding-ding that should have been another clue that I was still alive and ka—icking.”
“I know you didn’t walk in from town, so where have you been?” I asked, leaning back in my chair, ready to be entertained by this story.
“I do—do not have to tell you my sa—see—crets.”
“Does that secret involve Jim Beam? Because that’s not much of a secret,” I said, waving my hand in front of my face. “You smell like a distillery.”
“Jack Daniels and only half a bottle.” He tipped his mug up and finished it. When he stood, he stumbled to the side several times on his way to the kitchen. He returned with another cup of coffee that spilled over the side of the cup with every step. He finally stopped in the middle of the floor and drank the rest of it. “I’m going to the bathroom. Be ri—ri back,” he slurred, then jogged down the hallway and shut the door.
My phone beeped, and I grabbed it from my pocket while I shook my head at the man in the can. What the heck was going on with him? I didn’t know this Beau Hanson. The part that bothered me the most was that I didn’t think Beau knew that guy either. That was scaring him. I opened my phone and read the text from Heaven. She was wondering if I was okay or if she should come home. I quickly typed back that I was okay and could more than handle Beau Hanson with one hand tied behind my back.
I used to think that was true, but this new Beau was a wild card I couldn’t predict. Was I in physical danger? No. Beau would never hurt me physically. Emotionally he absolutely could, and if the other day at the café were any indication, he absolutely would without a second thought. He knew how to cut right to my core without even trying. I would have to encourage him to go to bed tonight and then talk to him in the morning when he was sober. I tapped my phone in my hand. Then again, perhaps talking to him drunk wasn’t a terrible idea. With his inhibitions gone, he might tell me what the hell was eating him up inside.
The bathroom door popped open, and he strode back into the room, his eyes hooded and his coffee cup missing. I figured I’d find it on the back of the toilet come morning.
“Thanks. I’ve been outside since I finished chores at sev—sev—seven. I was drinking Jack to stay warm, and it got away from me.” He grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped himself in it before he sat down next to me.
“You didn’t have to be out in the cold. That was a quarantine of your own making, no one else’s.”
“I wasn’t exactly we—wel—welcome in either house.”
“Also your own doing,” I pointed out. I had to be careful. If I made Beau mad, he’d clam up and refuse to speak to me, just like the other day. I had to get him to talk without sending the message that his recent behavior was acceptable.
“Never said it wasn’t,” he shot back.
I held up my phone. “Everyone has texted me now. I assured Blaze and Heaven they could go to bed. Maybe you should, too. I won’t let anyone bother you. Blaze said to take the morning off. He’ll make sure the chores get done.”
Beau rolled his eyes sarcastically, but it took some effort for him to get them back to the midline. “I’m sure he will, by making one of the other han—hands do them. I’m not going to neglect my duties and make someone else pa—pay for it. I’m not that kind of cow—cow—cowboy.”
My head tipped when I realized what I thought was drunken slurring was a pronounced stutter now. The only time Beau ever stuttered was when he was upset or emotional. Then again, I’d never seen him this drunk before. Maybe that made his stutter worse too. “Okay, then I’ll make sure you’re up and out of here on time.”
“Is that all you have to sa—sa—ay to me?”
“I don’t know what to say to you anymore, Beau. I’m afraid that no matter what I say, it will be the wrong thing.”
“You’re going to stop being ma—my—my friend, too? Is that what you’re sa—sa—saying?”
I shook my head at the man in front of me. “I don’t recall ever saying that, Beau. Would people who don’t want to be your friend be out in the cold searching for you late into the night?’
“Toots, Bla—Blaze could have found me at any time in the barn. He knows ma—my—” He froze for a moment and swallowed, taking a deep breath. “He knows my schedule.” His words were slow and purposeful with that statement.
I tipped my head in acknowledgment. “Blaze was trying to give you space. When you didn’t show up after three days, he got worried. Besides, we both know you weren’t in the barn. You had the other ranch hands doing those chores. We might look dumb as a bullbat, but we aren’t.”
