Hay Season

Chapter 31

Mattie

Was all this worth the suffering? Oh yes, because now I can hold his hand instead of just sitting at his feet. I hope and pray this will be a blessing to someone. We are taught what is right or wrong. We are taught to depend on ourselves so we do. We judge our teenagers by their dress or hair because of our spiritual standards. A lot of us are as bad on the inside as some look on the outside. ~ Susan Sanford ~

It's during the darkest times that people often find clarity. Sometimes, it takes something terrible to make something good. A bowl of soup is only good with the right ingredients. It's what we do with those ingredients that make it suitable for the dinner table or table scraps for the hogs. Give me a break on the analogy. I'm from the South. A true love story isn't filled with perfection. It's what's done with the imperfections that make it perfect. A town is what we make of it. It's the pot that never stops boiling, and when it does, you'll know it.

~Our Hometown of Dewbridge, Journal Entry by Tad Roberts

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I'm supposed to tell you that Michael took me to some secluded cabin in the woods, had his way with me, and I'm saved by the handsome quarterback of our football team. But that would be a lie, for the most part, anyway. He did take me to a cabin in the woods, but it's not one hundred percent secluded. It's owned by the Miller family. And Michael didn't have a chance to get his way with me. Instead, I used the time he exited his truck to pick my way out of the handcuffs. It's a trick my dad taught me years ago when a friend from the local police station visited us. They made me swear I'd never tell anyone about my newfound ability. Dad wanted to make sure I could take care of myself. One day soon, I'm going to thank him for that.

The stunned look on Michael's face when I sprayed him with the small can of mace, another gift from Dad's friend, gives me enough gratification that I almost forget he can get right back up. I have a terrible habit of forgetting the mace can when I leave the house, but today, I'd worn a pair of jeans that I'd thrown over my desk where, luckily, the can was staring at me. Rylan found it once while we were making out and reminded me to always carry it on me whether I felt I was in danger or not. Overprotective boyfriend and all, but today, I'm grateful it was sitting on the edge, begging me to pick it up.

Michael starts to stand, and I panic. I'm only human, after all. Thankfully, I spot a large limb lying close by. I pick it up and hit him on the head as hard as possible. I'm unsure how accurate my aim is, but he goes down, and that's all I care about. Before riding me out here, he'd decided a joy ride was in order. During such a time, I've had to listen to him give me a play-by-play of how we'd finish our date. Therefore, having him unconscious feels like the better option right now. Taking the cuffs I picked off myself, I cuff him on one arm and use what strength I possess to haul him close enough to the post of the cabin and cuff him to it. Breathing hard, I stand back and admire my handiwork. The bastard is heavy. I thank my years of hauling large bags of feed and supplies to the shelter for my ability to move him. Running back to the truck, I rummage around until I find my phone and call 911, but as the phone connects, I hear sirens.

"911, what's your emergency?"

Flashing blue and red lights can be seen from where I'm standing.

"Never mind."

I hang up on the lady asking me to stay on the line. A patrol car parks behind Michael's truck, and arms are wrapped around me before I can react. The scent of Rylan is familiar and comforting. I let the fear I was holding back go. I know I'm shaking, but I don't care.

"Did he hurt you?"

Michael's starting to come back to consciousness, and there is murder in Rylan's eyes when he spots him. I wrap my arms around him tighter.

"He didn't have a chance to."

Several police officers make their way around us to apprehend Michael. When they go to take the cuff off, he attempts to hurl himself in my direction. His eyes are on me.

"Bitch!"

They take him down while several more curse words erupt from his mouth. I don't flinch at them. Instead, I feel pride in how I handled the situation. I can see that same admiration in Rylan's eyes as they cart his teammate to the waiting patrol car.

"Honey, remind me to never piss you off. Although I'm not against the handcuffs."

Despite the situation, I smile. "I may have a pair."

He feigns shock. "Why, you pervert."

I laugh. "Blame it on Tad."

"Thank him more like it."

"Did I just hear my name?"

Tad rounds the corner, followed by my father, Darby, Thomas, Mr. Roberts, and several of our friends and family. You can never do anything small in the South. Rylan's smile turns upside down. Leaning over, he whispers in my ear.

"I'm sorry, Mack. I wasn't there to protect you."

I pull back so he can see my eyes and am honest when I answer him. "It was never about protection, Ry. It's always been about love. I'm okay alone, but I'd rather be with you."

Pulling me in for a kiss, I feel his lips curl against mine. "I love you. I'll always love you, Mack."

I smile, knowing we're precisely where we need to be.

"Good. Then let's go mark the world, Ry."