Gone Country (Rough Riders #14)

Gone Country (Rough Riders #14) Page 72
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Gone Country (Rough Riders #14) Page 72

Sierra paced, acting as if she was contemplating Rory’s words. “You really think my dad will decide to stay here?”

“I hope so. For my mom’s sake and for his.” Rory watched Sierra, so torn; she knew something else was at play. “What happened in the last couple of days that made you so eager to leave Sundance immediately?”

She bit her lip and studied the ground.

“Were you bullied by girls at school? Verbally harassed or physically assaulted or threatened?”

She shook her head.

An awful thought occurred to her and it wouldn’t go away. “Did a guy touch you in a way you didn’t want to be touched? Or force you? Because if that happened, we can get you help—”

“I wasn’t raped or anything like that.”

“Thank God.” Rory exhaled. “I didn’t want to push you, but I know you’re holding something back and I was really scared that’s what it was.”

“Why?”

“Because, like you reminded me a few months back, there is some stuff we can’t talk about with our parents, no matter how much we should. I suspect you don’t have many people you can talk to if you’re calling me.”

Rory waited for Sierra to speak. When several minutes passed and she stayed mum, she pushed her. “Sierra. What’s really going on? What couldn’t you tell your dad?”

Sierra had closed herself off, wrapping her arms around her upper body. “I have—had—two people I can talk to. Marin. But she’s staying at her grandma’s. The other person I could talk to? He left yesterday morning.”

Sierra had only ever mentioned one guy. “Boone?”

She nodded.

Well that explained a lot. “What happened?”

“He joined the army. We’ve hung out so many times and he never…” She cleared her throat. “Then after he told me he was leaving, he said all these things to me…how he felt about me—which I didn’t know—and he kissed me.”

“And?”

“And he left and it hurts! It pisses me off and I can’t stop crying. I want to leave. I want to put him behind me, put this whole year behind me and start over.”

“But you wouldn’t be starting over if you went back to Arizona,” Rory pointed out. “Do you think you could start over in France?”

She sniffled. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I’m so confused.”

Rory let her settle before she spoke. “Can I give you some advice, little sister?”

“I guess.”

“Change yourself, not your location.”

Sierra looked up. “What?”

“You let things happen to you instead of making them happen for you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m the same way. Or I was. You didn’t confront your dad about the stuff that was bugging you last fall. You made me do it. I went through this too, learning to be assertive without changing who you are inside, so listen to me.” Rory tucked a strand of hair behind Sierra’s ear. “You’re a fun, smart, funny and sweet girl—when you’re not being a total brat.”

Sierra gave her a watery smile.

“For some reason, you hide that. Don’t. Be proud of who you are.” Then Rory laughed.

“What?”

“I just realized I’m telling you to act like a McKay.”

Tears shimmered in Sierra’s eyes again.

What was up with that?

“You don’t need a pack of friends, okay? If you have one good friend, one you can talk to, one who can talk to you, one you have fun with…then count yourself blessed. There are a lot of lonely people in the world who don’t even have that, to say nothing of all the people you have in your life who love you. The McKays may annoy me to no freakin’ end, but if you called any of them and told them you were having troubles, they’d all be there for you in a heartbeat. I think you know that.”

A full minute passed before Sierra spoke. “So if you were me, Rory, what would you do?”

“I know what I wouldn’t do.”

“What?”

“Let Boone West or the memory of Boone West fuck up my life any more than he already has. Move on. Use his leaving as a chance to make yourself stronger, not let it weaken you further.”

“You sound just like your mom.”

“And that is the best compliment you could ever give me.”

Sierra paced in her room after her conversation with Rory. She hadn’t seen her dad since the blowup yesterday morning and she missed him.

You’ll miss him a lot more if you move to France.

As soon as he’d walked out, telling her that he didn’t want to deal with her, Sierra knew she’d screwed up bad. Like usual, she’d said the first shitty thing that popped into her head. Lashing out because she hurt. Knowing exactly to what to say to her dad to make him hurt. Twisting the circumstances—not telling her dad the real reason she wanted to leave because he wouldn’t understand.

After what’d happened with Boone, she’d spent the whole night cursing him, cursing herself, cursing this stupid town. She’d called her mom and cried for over an hour, telling her about Boone—things she’d never told anyone. And her mom had been so sweet, not offering some snarky advice but really listening to her. Then her mom urged her to visit her in France, not in her usual manipulative way, but because she missed her daughter and then Sierra couldn’t see anything beyond just getting the hell out of Wyoming.

Her mom had no idea she’d given her dad an ultimatum. Now she’d dug herself into a hole. She couldn’t march into her dad’s office and say, “Just kidding! I don’t want to go back to Arizona… By the way, what’s for supper?”

This time she’d gone beyond crying to get her way. This time her rash response was having life changing repercussions because hers wasn’t the only life that would be affected.

She flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

Every sickening thing Rory had thrown at her was true. But Rory was mistaken if she believed Sierra hadn’t already recognized those nasty truths about her childish behavior. But she was stuck. She couldn’t talk to her dad. And she was so embarrassed by what she’d said and done that she just wanted to hide in her room and hope all this shit blew over.

It’d serve her right if her dad called her bluff and shipped her off to France.

Her mom would be happy. She’d sent Sierra three emails in the last day, begging her to come and stay in Paris. One thing she hadn’t lied about during the big blow up was that she missed her mom. Yes, sometimes her mom acted ridiculously self-centered—now Sierra understood where that trait came from in her own knee-jerk responses—but other times, her mom was thoughtful, honest and helpful and she understood her in ways that her dad never would.

Divorce sucked. It’d turned her dad completely against her mom. He always pointed out her mother’s worst qualities and didn’t see her good side. He claimed she didn’t have a good side but it was there. Maybe Sierra wished it were there more often, but it was there.

Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten anything except French fries and a bag of chips she’d found during her packing frenzy. But she was too much of a chickenshit to go into the kitchen in case she ran into Rielle. What could she possibly say to her after what she’d done? Thinking about it made her sick to her stomach all over again.

Her cell phone buzzed on her desk and she rolled to her feet. Why was Marin was calling her? “Hello?”

“What the fuck, Sierra? I get a text from you that says you’re moving? What’s that bullshit about?”

“What? I didn’t send you a text!”

“Uh, yeah you did. Two hours ago. It says, and I quote, please try and talk me out of moving away forever.”

Rory. That sneaky bitch. She’d asked to see Sierra’s iPhone under the pretext of buying one and used it to send Marin a text.

“So tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s a big mess, Marin. It’s my fault and I don’t know where to start. I don’t know if I can fix it.” She started to cry again. “I just…”

“Stop crying. Get in your car and meet me at the football field.”

Sierra sniffled. “What? I thought you were at your grandma’s?”

“Do you really think I could stay there after my best friend texted me that she’s moving away? I oughta bitch slap you for even thinking I wouldn’t care.”

That brought tears to her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I still may bitch slap you. And you cannot move away. We have plans for junior year, remember?”

“What? Uh. No. I think you made plans.”

“Which always includes you, duh. Anyway, get to the football field.” The line cut out but Marin’s next words were loud and clear. “Friends help each other out. They listen to each other. They’re there for each other. Whatever happened…we’ll find a way to fix it.”

Sierra didn’t get her hopes up about that, but she snuck out of the house and drove into town anyway.

Chapter Forty

Gavin needed someone to talk to.

He wasn’t quite sure why Vi was the first person who’d come to mind. Maybe because her kids were grown and she’d lived through the turbulent teen years. Maybe because she’d listen and offer her unvarnished advice.

Or maybe because she’s your mother.

She met him on the porch. She wore a straw hat, her World’s Greatest Grandma sweatshirt from Sierra and jeans—which shocked him. He’d never seen Vi in jeans.

She inspected him head to toe. “At least you’re wearing decent shoes. I thought we could walk a bit.”

“Where we going?”

“To my favorite thinking spot.” She laughed when Gavin wrinkled his nose. “Cow shit will wash right off those loafers.”

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