The taste of forbidden

8. Closeness. [Part 1]

8. Closeness.

Becket

Being in this house twice in one month must be a record in my life history. Just like last time, it’s Loretta who opens the door. Surprise fills her eyes again when she realizes it’s me.

"Oh, Becket… what are you doing here?" A sweet little smile appears on her lips.

Fuck, seriously?

Her apparent sweetness pisses me off.

I rub my temple to ease the headache that starts just by seeing her.

It’s already late, and Rose has prepared one of Cass’s favorite dishes again, so I know she’s not here, which allows me to speak clearly.

"I’ll only say this once." I look Loretta in the eye as I warn her. "I don’t want Lia’s name coming out of your damn mouth again. I don’t want you even breathing in her direction, got it?"

She falls silent and freezes in front of me, caught off guard, but I have no desire to stay in her presence. With the message delivered, I nod and turn to leave.

"Wait! What is this about?"

"I know what you did, Loretta," I say over my shoulder without stopping.

"Becket, I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"You turned the whole town against her. You told everyone Lia came to take everything and that I’m eager to get rid of her. Now everyone hates her. They won’t even sell her a f*****g coffee, Loretta."

"Did I lie?" she asks haughtily. "I heard from the workers that she owns half of everything, that you’ve been nervous since she arrived—everyone has."

"Whether it’s true or not, it’s none of your damn business." I confront her, stepping back when I realize how close we are. "That girl is not your concern. Nothing about this ranch is. And if I find out you’re spreading rumors about her again—God help you, Loretta—I’ll kick you off this property myself."

"You’d never do that," she scoffs, "you’d never do that to your dear Cassidy."

Your dear Cassidy—the way she says it makes a very deep wound inside me burn like hell.

"I said I’d kick you out, not your daughter. Hank adores Cass, he knows she loves this place. She’d never leave unless I asked her to. If I make him choose between his daughter and you, who do you think he’ll pick?"

Because Hank may be a lousy friend, but he’s not a bad father, and he would never do anything that would hurt Cass.

And Loretta knows it.

"You’d destroy my family like that, Becket?"

I look at her with cutting mockery so she can see what I’m capable of and how fed up I am with her bullshit. When she seems to realize I mean every word, I turn and leave.

What Cass told me that morning on the way to Lia’s place made me start to suspect her mother, but I needed to be sure before doing anything. So I went to town and questioned a few people as soon as I could. Sure enough, it was Loretta who spread those rumors. And even though I tried to deny what she said, the doubt has already taken root. It’s going to be hard for people to look at Lia differently now that they’ve already formed a very bad first impression of her.

Not that it matters, I remind myself—Lia will be gone soon.

And while Loretta is right that we’ve all been nervous since she arrived, my fear that Lia might take advantage of her share in this land has already faded. I can’t imagine that girl doing anything out of greed or malice. Even so, I can’t take any chances—not when it comes to this land, which is my whole life. Because maybe Lia isn’t someone to fear, but nothing is written in the sand and everything can change. And only when everything is in my name will I finally be at peace.

With no appetite and not wanting to go back into the house yet, I head to the stables. I look for Canela’s stall and grab her brush to start grooming her. She’s Cass’s favorite mare—her mare—and although she was skittish at first, she’s now quite calm and loving.

I brush Canela for a good while until I sense someone joining me. It’s Hank, carrying hay on his shoulders. I pretend not to see him, continue with Canela, and wait for him to leave.

"Were you with Loretta?" he asks.

I pause what I’m doing for a moment, then reply, "I needed to make a few things clear to your wife."

"She told me you threatened her."

So she called him to complain.

"I did."

He sighs, lights a cigarette, and sits on a bench near the entrance.

He doesn’t seem to care much that I gave her an ultimatum.

"Why are you still with her?" I ask, still focused on Canela.

The truth is I still don’t get it—how can he stay with her after all the harm she’s caused?

He takes his time to answer.

"I loved her at first," he admits, "and then…"

"And then?"

"I guess I didn’t want Cass to grow up in a broken home, but yeah… I’m not sure it was the right choice."

I remain silent. A part of me understands what he’s saying. After all, I’ve been in his shoes.

Suddenly, a bitter laugh escapes him.

"You still hate me, don’t you, Beck?"

I don’t answer that, even though the truth is I don’t. At first, maybe I did, but so many years have passed that the rage has cooled. If I’m honest, now I’m just grateful to him. After all, Hank has never tried to keep Cassidy away from me.

"You could’ve taken Cass off the ranch, but you never did."

"I’d never do that to you, Becket." More silence, until he says very softly, "Much less to her. My daughter loves this place too much."

Cassidy was born loving this place. It seems like the ranch runs in her blood. Unlike the city life Loretta always fought for—lying and scheming to get her way—Cass has loved this life since she took her first steps.

We fall into a comfortable silence while he finishes his cigarette.

Things between us will probably never be the same again—there’s too much betrayal in the way—but there was a time in my life when I thought I’d never even be able to have a civil conversation with him again.

"I’m off," he shouts to me, and seconds later I hear the engine of his truck starting up.

Once I’m done with Canela, I stroke her muzzle and lead her back to her stall. To kill time, especially because I’m not hungry, I check that each horse has enough hay and that the water buckets are full.

Just like Cassidy, I can’t imagine my life away from this land. And it hurts to think that was one of the reasons I lost Lucas. My brother carried too much resentment from our childhood, from our parents, from all the abuse we endured at home. He never knew—or never wanted—to separate this land from the wounds left by a dysfunctional family. Unlike him, I never blamed anyone but our parents. I never blamed this land. The love and the work that tied me to it were the only things that kept me sane while we survived a violent father.

And yet…

I sigh, because imagining how life might’ve been if I hadn’t respected Lucas’s wishes and had reached out to make peace… it doesn’t matter now. The truth is it’s all in the past. I can’t go back. Lucas is dead.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead as a memory of my brother hits me hard. Lucas was never the best rider. From a very young age, he had a love-hate relationship with horses. I vividly remember how, while trying to brush one of the most rebellious horses on the ranch, the animal kicked him and knocked out a loose baby tooth. Lucas was only seven years old and would follow me around nonstop, never getting tired of watching me do all the chores I was already doing at eighteen. Back then, he still loved this ranch and was happy helping me with daily tasks. So that memory is filled only with his laughter—not the tears you’d expect from any other kid in his place.

Of course, those were different times, back when Lucas didn’t resent me yet for not wanting to leave this place.

[1/3]