Hard 5 by Stephanie Brother
30
Back at Flint house, I show the officer everything, discovering just how much damage Jethro Flint and his brother have caused. The front door, which was beautiful, old, solid wood, has been hacked open. I don’t think there will be any chance of saving it.
So much is broken in the kitchen that I’m barely holding it together, and when we walk past Big Boy’s empty bed, I start to cry.
“I’m sorry.” I swipe at my tears with my sleeve, mortified to crumble in front of the officer who already looks uncomfortable being alone in my presence.
“It’s okay. Just try to stay calm,” he says, jotting things down in his little notebook. In the den, so many picture frames have been swiped from shelves and knocked from the walls. There are glass shards everywhere. The TV has been smashed with something sharp-ended. The couches were slashed with a knife. Literally, everything is damaged.
Upstairs, it’s just as bad. Mattresses have been flipped, laptops are missing, and my phone is gone. Thank goodness my photos are backed up to the cloud, or I’d be devastated. What am I saying? I am devastated. Our home has been vandalized and violated. This place, which was such a sanctuary just this morning, has been ruined.
And it’s not just about the possessions. It’s about the severing of the connections between us all. Connections that had just started to fuse. I slump onto the chair in my room, looking around at the mess of my underwear strewn across the floor. I don’t even have the energy to blush when I catch the officer looking at my panties and bras. This is so beyond childish shame. It’s so far beyond that I feel the crazy urge to laugh.
My life has become a rollercoaster of highs and lows. It’s gone from one that is predictable to one that is filled with excitement, drama, and devastation. Everything is so out of control, including my emotions.
“Is there anything else you know about?” the officer asks.
“No, that’s it as far as I know. It’ll be worth talking to Cash later about the paperwork and if any hidden valuables are missing. I only know so much about the house. I haven’t been here long.”
“You work here?”
“Yeah, I’m the housekeeper.” Even as the words come out of my mouth, my heart is breaking. I’d become so much more, but I’ve broken too much trust to ever be that again.
“Well, I’d better be heading back. I’ll be in touch.”
I nod, waiting for him to leave the room before following his back down the stairs. When he’s gone and the sound of his car leaving has quietened in the distance, I stand in the kitchen and look around.
All that I did here has been undone. The home that I helped to reestablish has been shattered. Part of me wants to stay and fix it. I want to put this place back together so when Cash, Cary, Colt, Sawyer, and Scott return, there’s less for them to be angry about. I could stay and try to make amends for everything that’s happened, but if I do that, I’ll have to face their anger. I’ll have to witness their disappointed faces and hear the words that will break my heart.
I’ll have to deal with them sending me away, and I just can’t do it.
I have to leave before they come back.
It won’t take me long to pack my things. I hardly have any possessions, and they’re all on the floor anyway. If I hurry, I’ll be gone before any of them return. I can walk across the fields to the barn and stay there for one night. As soon as the sun comes up, I’ll find a bus to take me to a new life—a different life.
I know it won’t have the same kind of warmth and affection that filled this life in Flint House. I know I won’t have five men to take care of me, or five men to love me. I know I won’t be part of a business that would give me the opportunities to learn and develop as a person. I’ll be leaving so much behind, but it’s what I have to do.
I’ve had too much heartache already this year. My heart is still sore from losing my pa and losing the farm. It can’t take anymore.
I’m up the stairs as fast as my feet can carry me. So fast, in fact, that I trip on the top stairs and snap a nail against the wall as I try to break my fall. “Shit.” I suck my finger as I make my way to my room. My small case is stood on the floor against the dresser. I unzip it and toss in the meager things that I possess, including all of the money that Cash has paid me since I arrived. At least this time I’ll be on the run with something to my name. It’s enough to buy a bus ticket and pay for a few motel rooms as I find another place to work, another place to rest my head.
It takes me exactly twenty minutes to remove all evidence that I have ever been to Flint House. Downstairs, I take the sandwiches I made for our lunch, which have been forgotten so far. Too much tragedy has taken place today for anyone to care about eating, but I might be hungry in the morning, and I’ll need something to keep me going.
The air outside the house is tainted with the scent of burning: my old farmhouse and the dreams I’d allowed myself to have.
Foolish girl.
A life as good as the one I had here isn’t something that’s in my story. Women like Connie, who know what they want, who are pretty enough and funny enough, get their happy ever afters. Women like me, with dirt up their fingernails and holes in the knees of their jeans, get to scrub floors and move from place to place.
I start on the journey to the barn that was always my happy place.
It doesn’t take long to reach the fence that still stands between Cooper’s land and Hard Valley Ranch. From here, I can see Cash talking to the firefighters who have now extinguished the flames and are packing up. What’s left of the house—a blackened shell—stands shiny from water and still smoldering.
Even from here, I can see Cash rubbing his face in his hands. His shoulders are slumped, the weight of everything pressing him down. I know my hand on the back of his neck would have calmed him. I know pulling him into my embrace would have shaken away some of his stress, even for a little while. I know if I kissed him, he would have got lost in the soft exchange of sensation and forgotten all of this. But it would only be temporary.
Behind him, Colt is leaning against the truck. He shakes his head as though he’s still reeling from what’s happened. His characteristic smile has been wiped from his handsome face. Like his brother, he’s weary.
Then the phone rings.
His face breaks into a smile, and he calls to Cash. As they exchange words, I know that Scott, Cary, and Sawyer must have found Big Boy. Nothing else could give them so much joy at such an awful time. Even through my misery, I have to smile.
Objects and possessions don’t really matter. What matters is what we truly love with all of our hearts, and I know for the Bradfords that Big Boy is just that.
Gradually, the area in front of Cooper’s Cottage clears, the dust rising behind the departing vehicles. I make my way over the fence, struggling with my case. The walk across the field doesn’t take too long. There was a time when I would run here, the long grasses tickling my outstretched fingers. I’d search for crickets and other funny-looking insects, trapping them for a time in empty glass jars, and after, I’d release them somewhere that I thought they’d be safe. Now my steps are weary and reluctant. The closer I get to my charred former home, the closer I feel to breaking.
The barn door is open. Nothing has been done here since I left. There were plans in Cash’s mind and in mine. Ideas that bubbled inside me with so much excitement I felt giddy. Now they’re burned to the ground too.
It’s not dark yet, but I don’t have anything to do other than struggle with my demons and wrestle with my fears. I return to the same place I slept the night after the auction and tuck myself under the same thin blanket. I close my eyes and try to push away all the memories that send a blunt ache to my heart. Tears spill from my cheeks, but I don’t make a sound.
I’ll let my pain out quietly, and in the morning, I’ll push it all down so that it can’t touch my heart again.