Stables (Black Gulch Ranch #2)

14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Char

It’s almost jarring, but in a good way, when he smiles.

He does it so rarely, I feel like it’s some sort of gift.

So it takes me a moment to get the joke.

Wait.

Blood flow stops at death, too.

My stomach twists. I hope it isn’t mine.

He must have seen my expression change, because he sets his drink down and moves closer.

His hands wave around some sort of invisible barrier between us as his lips drop into a frown. “Hey, I’m sorry. I was kidding. I meant him.”

I can’t fight the wave of ice that rolls through my body, clenching around my heart.

What if it’s Paisley?

All of the strength leaves my body.

Before my knees collide with the hard linoleum, Dixon’s strong hands grip my arms, holding me from falling.

“Char? Are you okay?” His voice cracks on the last word as he kicks a chair away from the table and helps me sit.

The tears fall on their own. “I’m scared,” I stammer. I wish I could tell him how suffocating this is.

How everything sitting on my shoulders feels like I’m being crushed.

I’m barely surviving, with no option for failure, and Matt keeps showing up to shove me back down.

More like bury me.

Dixon squats in front of me, his knees on either side of mine, his elbow on the table and his hand resting on the side of my chair.

It’s like he’s being careful not to touch me.

But he’s completely surrounding me.

The subtle heat of his body and his faint scent of pine wrap around me into a comforting cocoon.

Except it shouldn’t be.

There’s no guarantee that Dixon is any safer than Matt.

Just because he ran Matt off in the middle of the night, in his very tight underwear, doesn’t mean he won’t turn mean later himself.

But for now, he’s the lesser of two evils.

It’s how I should look at this.

Only temporary. Except what can I do to get Matt to stop?

Dixon’s dark eyes study me, and his jaw ticks beneath his morning shade of whiskers. “You have every right to worry. Is there someplace you can go? Have you thought about selling the farm and leaving?”

“I can’t sell, I owe more than it’s worth.” I don’t want to explain how stupidity got me there. “I can’t leave the state, Matt’s mom made sure of that.” Watching my fingers fidget with the hem on my pants doesn’t make this conversation any easier.

I’m going to wither away out here, slowly starving and letting bills rack up unless I can get a couple of more solid horse sales.

I’ve kicked around the idea of picking up a part time job in town, but what do I do with Paisley? I can’t afford daycare costs.

Shit, I can’t even put enough gas in my truck to make it back and forth to town.

All of my feed bills are on credit.

My palms spread. “Rock—” I look at one hand.”—meet hard place.” I glance at my left. “Here I am, in the middle.” I smack them together in a clap loud enough that I hear Paisley stir.

Dixon’s gaze drops to my interlaced fingers and his mustache twitches as his lips thin. “Call your friend, make sure she can stay here during the days I’m on shift.” His chocolate colored eyes raise to meet mine. “You shouldn’t be alone. If Libby isn’t enough, we’ll find other options.”

The sincerity in his stare makes me doubt he’d ever hurt me.

Are there really such things as genuine men who do the right thing?

I know I should protest. I don’t deserve for him to put himself in danger over me.

But there’s a part of me that is screaming if I keep pushing him away, he might actually leave.

What would I do then?

“Mommy?” Paisley’s soft footsteps pad into the kitchen and she moves up to Dixon’s side.

He drops his arm from my chair and shifts his thick thigh to give her access to reach me.

She tilts her messy auburn head before dropping her butt onto his knee to look up to me.

“Mommy, I hungry.” She blinks up at me before crossing her pudgy arms across my leg and laying her forehead on them, wiping her nose across my jeans.

I’ve never seen her take to someone like that before. The fact that she’s nonchalantly just using Dixon as a stool is hard not to smile at.

I wonder if he knows how huge this is for her?

My fingers gently work through her tangled hair. “Of course, baby girl. I’ll get you some applesauce.”

“In my chair, Mommy?” She doesn’t look up, so her words are muffled against her sleeve.

I find myself meeting Dixon’s eyes, then looking away.

“I can’t lift you up yet, sweety. Want to sit at the table? Like a grownup?” I hate that I can’t pick up my own daughter.

It brings a well of tears.

This is so damn frustrating.

“No. Uppie.” Her voice rises in pitch.

Dixon leans himself away slightly.

Great, maybe he doesn’t really like kids.

But his fingers wrap around the leg of the highchair, then he drags it away from the table. “Can I pick you up and put you in?” he asks her quietly.

She nods against my thigh before straightening and reaching for him.

His fingers overlap around her tiny frame as he lifts her and pivots.

I can’t believe she goes in so peacefully. There have been days where she fights me to get in, or plays limp noodle and refuses to thread her feet into the holes.

Pushing myself to my feet, it’s hard not to feel strange with having him do something so simple, yet so revealing.

Paisley doesn’t trust anyone besides Libby. She’s even shied away from Matt since she was old enough to recognize him.

“You should call your friend, see if she can come by for at least a little while today.” Dixon takes my seat and pulls his drink to his lips, watching me over the rim.

An uncomfortable flutter runs through my stomach at the idea of him leaving.

He makes me feel safer.

“Sure, I think she was planning on it anyway,” I say as nonchalantly as I can.

He doesn’t need to know I’m fighting every instinct to start bawling and clinging to him.

“I’ll go check on the horses, then I have to head home for a little while.”

Wait.

Does he have a girlfriend? A wife?

Why didn’t I think to ask that?

“Um, Dixon, if you have other obligations, you don’t have to—”

He waves his hand as he stands, towering over me as he steps close enough to set his empty jar by the sink. “I’m picking up my pistol and a change of clothes. I’ll be ready for that asshole next time.”

His teeth grit before he pushes out through the unbroken half of the sliding glass door.

A wave of heat rushes through me.

He’s willing to kill for me?

Why does that make my belly tighten in a way I haven’t felt in a very long time.