Page 2 of Trussed In Hope
I snorted but clinked anyway. “To surviving, you mean.”
The beer went down smooth, bitter enough to cut through the taste in my mouth that never left.
“Funny thing about surviving,” Elijah said after a long sip. His gaze fixed on the wall as if he could see something far beyond it. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like living.”
I studied him over the rim of the bottle. The words were too close to the bone, too familiar. “You thinking about Raya?”
His mouth flattened. He didn’t answer right away, just rolled the bottle between his palms. “Every day. Every time I close my eyes, I see her bleeding. I see you dragging men out of fire without me. I see the ones we couldn’t save. I wasn’t even there, but my mind has created these images that make it real for me.”
The room went still. I hated how easy it was to picture it too—the dust, the screams, the smell of burning metal. Iwasthere. I saw it all happen. My ribs ached like my body remembered what my mind wouldn’t let go of.
“Hell of a gift we came home with,” I muttered.
Elijah huffed out something that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Guilt?”
“Ghosts,” I corrected. “They don’t shut up.”
He nodded slowly, finally dragging his gaze back to me. “And now I’ve dragged you here, to my land, like this is some kind of healing retreat. Christ, Hardison. I don’t even know what I’m doing.”
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees. “You’re giving me a place to stand when I can’t hold myself up. That’s more than most men get.”
The silence stretched again, but this time it wasn’t sharp—it was raw.
Finally, Elijah tipped back the rest of his beer and set the bottle down with a soft thud. Grabbing a second one from the counter. “You’re still a pain in the ass, you know that?”
“Wouldn’t be me if I weren’t.”
That earned me the faintest smirk, the kind that said he wasn’t okay—but maybe, just maybe, we both could be.
The silence stretched until I cleared my throat. “How’s Raya?”
For the first time all evening, Elijah’s expression softened. A genuine smile tugged at his mouth. “Pregnant as hell. Glowing. Bossing me around like a five-star general.”
That pulled a chuckle out of me, one that felt rusty but real. “Sounds about right. She's okay though?”
He nodded, the shadows in his eyes shifting to something lighter. “She’s strong. Baby’s strong too. Seven months along now. I keep waking up thinking I’m gonna break something just rolling over in bed and crushing them both.”
“Hell, if anyone’s indestructible, it’s her.” I took another pull from my beer. “You don’t have to carry that guilt anymore, Elijah. You stayed behind for them. No one blames you for that. No man left behind.” I reminded him.
His jaw worked, but he didn’t argue. That was as much as I was gonna get tonight.
I leaned back. “So tell me what mess you’ve roped me into.”
Elijah groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “Bought out old man Greeley’s stock. Man had to sell off everything just to keep the bank from taking his place. I couldn’t watch him lose itall, so I picked up some of his animals. Didn’t exactly plan for the numbers, though.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Numbers?”
He stood, grabbing a mini-notebook from his pocket and tossed it my way. The scribbled columns nearly made me choke on my beer. Cattle. Chickens. Goats. Even a few horses.
“You trying to start Noah’s Ark out here?” I muttered.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Elijah lifted his hands in mock surrender. “I thought a few head of cattle would round out the herd I wanted. Didn’t realize Greeley would unload his whole damn farm when I only asked for a quarter of it.”
“And your foreman?” I asked.
“Gone to Tallahassee for supplies. About a week, maybe more.” Elijah dropped back into his chair, looking entirely too satisfied with himself. “So until he’s back…they’re yours.”
I set the notebook down slowly. My leg throbbed as if it knew what kind of work was coming. “Elijah, I came here for physical therapy, not to play cowboy babysitter.”
