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Rhett

Westley was in a good mood when he got back from working that day. He was all smiles, laughing and carrying on with Aunt Dolly like it was something they always did. He had a healthy appetite too, clearing through an entire chicken-fried steak in about three minutes. Dolly brought him another one without being asked and I couldn’t believe he ate that one too. But then again, if I’d been patching a roof all damn day, I guess I would’ve been starving too.

After he finally pushed his plate away, satisfied, he leaned back in the booth and patted his belly like he was real proud of himself. Then he gave me this look, one I hadn’t seen on him in days. It was all light and easy, with none of that worry pinching at the corners of his eyes.

“You gonna tell me why you’re grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet potato,” I said, “or am I gonna have to guess?”

“Got some news,” he said, and he reached across the table for my hand, right there in front of Dolly and the two truckers still lingering over their coffee. I about jumped out of my skin, glancing around out of habit to see if anyone was looking. “Sheriff Webb came by the church today. He talked to Mike about the fair comin’ up. He said he needs extra hands down at the station and I told him you were lookin’ for work.”

My stomach twisted into a knot, dread filling me like ice water. “Me? Workin’ for the sheriff?”

“Said to come by tomorrow mornin’. It’s steady pay, Buttercup. For a few weeks at least, maybe longer.” He was still smiling, waiting for me to smile back, but I couldn’t manage to force one.

“I don’t know, West.”

His brow furrowed a little. “What’s there to know? It’s work. Good work, and in town too, so you wouldn’t need the truck to get there. We could save even more on gas and upkeep on that old thing.”

I picked at the edge of my napkin, not looking at him. “I just... I don’t know if I want to work for the sheriff. Or anybody around here, really.”

“Rhett, you spent all day yesterday walkin’ door-to-door beggin’ for a job. Said you’d take anything. Now I hand you a job on a plate, and you’re frownin’ at it like it’s a cow pie.”

“It ain’t that simple,” I said, my voice coming out sharper than I meant it to.

“Then explain it to me, ‘cause from where I’m sittin’ it looks pretty simple. You need work. Sheriff’s got work. That’s it.”

I sat my fork down, appetite gone even though I’d barely touched my food. Dolly, bless her, must’ve sensed the temperature dropping at our table because she found some sudden urgent business over by the pie case, giving us a wide berth.

“Rhett.” Westley’s voice had gone quieter now. “What is it? Talk to me.”

I stared down at the scarred wood of the table, my mind racing about what I should tell him or how I could explain myself. But he was looking at me the way he always did, like he actually wanted to know. And I couldn’t keep dodging it forever.

“I don’t wanna get tied down here,” I said finally, barely above a whisper. “A job like that, workin’ for the sheriff, gettin’ to know folks, and gettin’ comfortable... That’s exactly the kinda thing that makes leavin’ harder.”

Westley went very still across from me. “Leavin’?”

“Yeah.” I made myself look up at him, even though the look on his face broke my heart. “West, I don’t wanna live here. Not in Sagebrush. I never did. I been plannin’ on gettin’ out of this town since before any of this happened, since before Chuck and them boys, since before your daddy. I had a bag half packed under my bunk for over a year now.”

The color seemed to drain a little out of his face. “You never told me that.”

“Didn’t think I needed to. Wasn’t like there was anybody keepin’ me here.” The second the words left my mouth I heard how they sounded, and I winced, reaching for his hand before he could pull it back. “That ain’t what I meant. I meant, before. Before you and me. Before all this changed between us. Bein’ around you, lovin’ you, was torture. And it’s no secret that nobody around here likes me much.”

“And now?” His voice had gone tight. “Is there anythin’ worth stayin’ here for now?”

I didn’t answer right away, and that silence probably told him more than anything I could’ve said. He pulled his hand back slowly, not yanking it away exactly, just easing it out from under mine like he needed the space to think.

“This whole town’s got nothin’ for me but bad memories,” I said, the words tumbling out faster now that I’d cracked the door open. “Every street, every store, every damn face. I got beat half to death a few days ago ‘cause of who I am, West. You think I want to spend the rest of my life lookin’ over my shoulder in the same place that happened? Not only that, but I’m tired of seein’ that corner where my parents got into their accident. Every time I do… all I can see is their caskets bein’ lowered into the ground again. I can’t stand it…”

“So what, you’re just gonna up and leave? Just like that?” His jaw was tight, something hurt flickering behind his eyes that he was trying hard to cover up. “What about me?”

“I want you to come with me,” I said quietly. “That was always the plan, in the back of my head, anyway. Get enough saved up, get in the truck, and go somewhere nobody knows us. Somewhere we could just be whoever we wanted to be without half the county watchin’. Up until now, I figured you’d always choose the ranch. But now… now there’s nothin’ holdin’ you back.”

Westley stared at me like I’d just asked him to jump off a cliff blindfolded. “Rhett… I just got the job at the church. And apparently half this town’s more like us than either of us ever knew. I got roots here.”

“I know.”

“And you’re askin’ me to just leave all that behind.”

“I ain’t askin’ you to do anything tonight,” I said, though my chest was aching something fierce. “I’m just tellin’ you the truth, ‘cause you keep tellin’ me I gotta stop hidin’ things from you. So there it is. That’s the second thing I’ve been hidin’.”