Love Her Better (Kaid Ranch Shifters Book 4) Page 4

  And that was that. He was back to calming the horse, back to waiting, back to not giving up on him.

  Respect.

  Okay, Sam Kaid. You have my attention.

  She sat down as near to him as she could get, just a few feet away and separated only by the metal fence. When he gave her a sleepy smile over his shoulder, she held up the bag of breakfast. “Wanna eat with me?”

  “Yes. I want to eat. With you.”

  She snorted. “You’re a smooth talker, aren’t you, Sam?”

  “No, I’m not. I think I used to be, though,” he murmured as he reached out and took the buttered biscuit she handed him.

  “You don’t remember how you were when you were younger?” she asked, confused.

  “I don’t remember much from before three years ago. Something happened. To my head.”

  Asshole was pacing back and forth, as far away from Sam as he could get, but at least he wasn’t trying to kick him. Victories might be tiny sometimes, but they were still victories just the same.

  “Like a car accident or something?”

  Sam didn’t answer. He ate his whole biscuit and then another, scooted back against the fence, and curled up his knees, rested his forearms over them as he watched Asshole slowly settle down. She thought he was done talking and, yeah, it stung, but Sam Kaid was like Asshole. He was slow to open. Slow to trust.

  She finished the last bite of her biscuit and wadded up the trash, moved to stand.

  “I don’t want you to go yet. Just stay for a little while,” he said without turning around.

  Cassidy hesitated. She had a lot of chores to do in the barn and a lesson in a couple of hours.

  “I’ll muck out all your stalls, Cassidy. Just…stay.”

  “Okay,” she murmured, sitting back down. She leaned her back against the fence, facing the opposite way of him. She could see the front pasture, now bathed in green tones as the sun rose.

  “What was your dad like?” he asked.

  She smiled at the thought of him. “He was headstrong and stubborn and never took no for an answer. He got this place when I was five. Worked at a mechanics shop and saved every spare penny until he could afford the ranch. It was his dream. We lived in a little singlewide mobile home until we moved into this place, and it was…”

  “Was what?”

  “I was only five, but I remember the day we got here. We were busy moving, had a U-Haul unloading our furniture into the house, had some of my older cousins over helping with the heavy stuff. Mom was off somewhere, probably unloading the kitchen stuff, but Dad stopped what he was doing and gathered me and my brother up and told us he had a surprise for us.”

  “What was the surprise?”

  She pointed to the old frayed rope hanging from the oak tree out front that was swaying in the breeze. “It was an old tire he got from his mechanics shop and a big rope. He hung it right then for us to play on. Right in the middle of chaos and moving, he took time to spend with me and my brother. Now, he probably did it to give us something to play with and keep us out from under their feet, but he was also just like that.”

  “Like what?”

  She sighed. “He always took the time for us.”

  “Hm,” he grunted. “What about your mom?”

  “Oh, she still lives in town. She left this place after my dad passed. Horses were never her thing. She’s more of a city girl, and I think this place held too many memories of him. It was hard for her to move on while she was here. He knew it would be like that, I think. She was set up with money after he passed, and for me and my brother? We got this place.”

  “From your voice, I can tell you would rather have this farm than money.”

  “Oh, hell yeah. This place is happiness for me. Money is always tight because there is a big mortgage on, but I always figure out a way to get through one more month, one more month, one more month.”

  “You’re like your dad.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Headstrong and stubborn and always takes the time.”

  Maybe those first two words would have been insults coming from the lips of anyone else, but Sam had reverence in his voice, and her chest filled with pride. “I’m honored to be compared to my dad. He was a very good man.”

  “I don’t remember my parents. Or where I went to school, or what foods I liked, or what movies I’ve seen.”

  She twisted so she could see him, but he was still staring at the horse. “Your memory is bad? Is it amnesia?”

  “No, it’s something different. I was me for a long time. My brothers said I was a good man. The dependable one. The one who always got everyone out of trouble. The one everyone went to when they needed something fixed. The favorite son, the football player, the patient one, the one who had the brightest future. And then something happened, and my brothers thought I died. They moved on, and they were right. I did die, I guess. They should’ve moved on. I woke up, and I wasn’t me anymore. That’s where most of my memories begin. Now I only have flashes of who I used to be, and they feel unfamiliar. Like I’m watching things happen from up above. Like I’m a narrator of some book that’s not about my own life, but someone else’s.” He shrugged. “That was a lot of talking.”

  She huffed a soft laugh. “You don’t like talking much?”

  Sam shook his head. “Talking is terrible.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth?” She smiled at him. “I’m sure the old Sam was great, but I think you’re great just the way you are now.”

  His eyes flashed a lighter color before he jerked his attention back toward the horse. The creature had been calm, finally, but he spooked suddenly and went to screaming and bucking and kicking the fence.

  “That’s all for today,” Sam said, and with that, he climbed the fence with a grace and athleticism she’d never seen from any man before. He strode into the barn.

  But…his eyes. They had done something so strange.

  Cassidy stood and clenched the breakfast trash tight in her hand as she jogged after him.

  “Sam?” she called when she didn’t find him immediately in the walkway between the stalls. Gads, he was fast! “Sam?” she called again.

  No answer, but the scuffling sound in the back stall was clear as day, and she didn’t have a horse back there right now. She jogged to it. “Sam, your eyes do something strange—Aaaah!” she screamed as she rounded the stall door.

  Sam had squatted down, and was facing the back corner of the stall, but where his shirt had ripped down the back, his skin was covered in dark fur. One hand was gripping the windowsill, and his hands were monstrous with long black claws. His shoulders were heaving as he dug his nails into the wood and splintered the sill. When he turned his face to the side, his pointed ears were laid back. His bone structure in his face was terrifying with a long muzzle and sharp teeth. He growled out, “Do you still think I’m great just as I am?” in a demon’s gravelly voice.

  Cassidy stood frozen, more scared than she’d ever been in her life, her feet glued to the floor, completely helpless to move, to run.

  “S-Sam?” she whimpered.

  “Not Sam. Sometimes I’m Bones. Go inside, Cassidy. I won’t hurt you, but I need you to go inside.”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  He turned slowly, and his eyes were roiling a light gold color in that monster’s face. “Everything is wrong with me.”

  But she saw pain there in his animal eyes. So much pain. So much defeat. Like some of the horses she’d worked with over the years. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever you are…it’s okay.”

  “Yeah?” he asked, standing to his full height. He was taller now, wider, more muscular, and every bit of him that was exposed from his ripped clothes was covered in dark fur. He lifted his chin and curled back his lips, showed his sharp teeth, and narrowed his churning eyes at her. A long, horrifying growl rattled from him and filled the entire barn. “You think this is okay? Then why do you stink like fear? Why is your voice shaking? Why
are your hands shaking? Why are your eyes filling with tears?”

  “You’re a wolf,” she forced past her tightening vocal cords. “Aren’t you?”

  He gave a bone-chilling smile. “Not yet. Run along, little chicken. Survive me.” He pitched forward on all fours and with a smattering of pops, morphed into a giant black wolf.

  She huffed a breath and turned, bolted for the entrance to the barn as fast as her legs would carry her. He was right behind her, chasing her—she knew he was! She screamed in the yard and nearly tripped over a tangled water hose she’d left out, righted herself, and pushed her legs faster. He was going to get her! He was going to get her!

  She bolted up the stairs to her house and shoved the door open, then turned as fast as she could to slam it closed. She locked the deadbolt and stood there, all her weight against the door, waiting for him to come barreling right through. He could. She knew he could. He was radiating with more power than she could even comprehend.

  Nothing happened, though. There was only silence, which was just as terrifying. It took her two good minutes to build up the nerve, but she leaned over and peeked out the window next to the door.

  Sam was by the barn, standing tall and strong. He wasn’t a wolf anymore, but a man again. He had his shredded clothes wadded up in front of his thighs, and every muscle was flexed, every ab was defined, and his shoulders were taut. His hair was mussed and shone in the sun like raven’s feathers. His eyes still blazing bright gold; he looked like some demigod come to earth. And he was staring right at her.

  And there it was in his eyes. It existed still.

  The sadness.

  The defeat.

  He lowered his gaze and made his way to his truck, got in, and the roar of the engine drowned out the silence. And as he drove away, she felt it, too.

  The sadness.

  The defeat.

  Chapter Seven

  He’d done it on purpose.

  She’d said he was okay the way he was, but Cassidy was wrong. She didn’t really know him, didn’t know what an animal he was. Didn’t know about werewolves, didn’t know real monsters existed. Didn’t know all the horrible things he’d done at the order of his alpha, Leif. She didn’t know, and when the wolf had pushed for his skin, he’d allowed it. A part of him had wanted her to be scared. To see the real him and be scared. To not make him talk anymore. It was a split-second self-sabotage that would chase her away and let him live alone in peace…if peace existed for a creature like him. He supposed, for a moment, he wanted to chase her away to leave him alone in torment. There. “In torment” made more sense than “in peace.”

  Or…he wanted to see if she would stay when she saw the real, awful, dangerous, flawed, monstrous side of him.

  But she had run.

  His phone rang from the console, and one glance down had his heart beating even faster. It was Bryson.

  Why did he feel so breathless right now? Why did it feel like a giant hole was growing inside of him, bigger and bigger until it swallowed him up?

  The phone rang again, and on a whim, he slammed on the brakes, threw the truck into park right there in the middle of Cassidy’s gravel driveway, and picked up the call.

  “What?” he answered.

  “Something’s wrong,” Bryson said softly.

  “With who?” Sam gritted out.

  “With you. I can feel it through the fucked-up bond you have with the pack. We’re out here driving the cattle to the back pastures, and I’m watching you affect Hunter and Wes. They been smacking the back of their necks and lookin’ behind them like they’re being hunted, but they ain’t figured it out yet. It’s you. What happened?”

  “You should get back to work.”

  “Nah, they’ve got it.”

  “Why do you care, Bryson? I’m not your brother. I’m… I’m…” He slammed his head back on the headrest and stared out the front window at an old willow tree whose bent branches were drifting in the breeze.

  “You’re what?” Bryson asked in that gruff, grizzly voice of his.

  “I’m nothing.”

  There was a sigh on the other end, and Sam could hear the creak of the saddle as Bryson shifted his weight on his horse. Sam could imagine the scene: Wes and Hunter and their mates were on horses and ATVs, pushing the cattle forward, chasing strays, yelling, cussing, laughing maybe when Hunter did something dumb. And Bryson was hanging back, sitting on a still horse, with the phone up to his ear.

  “Why do you care?” Sam asked.

  “You aren’t my brother by blood. I never had a blood brother. Took me three years to even get Wes to say a kind word to me. Took three years to learn anything about Hunter that was real. If it takes three years for you to figure out what I am? I’m okay with that. You Kaids are slow wins.”

  “What are you?” Why did his own voice sound so weak? He hated feeling helpless.

  “I’m your brother, too. Maybe not by blood, but sometimes blood ain’t all that counts. You’re not nothing, Sam. You’re important.”

  “I gotta girl. I coulda had a girl, maybe.”

  “A human?” Bryson asked without skipping a beat.

  “Yeah, but I already fucked it all up. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Man, none of us do. I fuck up with Maris every day that ends in Y. It’s what we do. Thing about women, though? Their hearts are built different than ours. They are stronger at the things we are weak at.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you fuck up, they have the capacity to forgive if you handle it right.”

  “How…?” Sam swallowed hard. “How do I handle it right?”

  “You don’t blast off on your own and leave them hurting over your mistakes. You stick around. Let them know you’re there. If they want to yell at you, and you deserve it? You stick around for that, too, and you shut the fuck up, Sam. Try it. See how she softens after her anger wears off. If she’s still lookin’ at you? She’s still in it. You say sorry when she digs into something you need to work on. And in return? If she’s a good woman? She’ll check herself, too, and give you apologies when she needs to work on stuff.”

  “I showed her my wolf.”

  “Oh, Jesus Christ, Sam.” Bryson belted out a laugh that echoed through the phone. “Why in Sam Hill would you do that?”

  “Because I wanted to test her.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, and how did that work out for you?”

  “She ran in the house, and I heard her crying.” He wanted to retch.

  “Did you run?”

  “Yeah, to give her space.”

  “No. Sometimes space is good. Not on this one. You showed her the wolf. Now go show her that you go straight back to being a man. Bring her something sweet.”

  “Sweet. I can kill her coyotes and stack them on her porch.”

  “Something sweet that doesn’t involve blood.”

  Sam sighed in frustration and looked out over the field of weeds along the driveway. Yellow flowers dotted the wild grass. “Okay.”

  “And if you’re gonna be a dumbass and shove all the bad parts of your life in her face? Show her the good, too.”

  “What’s a good part of my life, Bryson? I live in a cattleman’s cabin on a mattress on the front porch because my animal can’t stand to be trapped inside. I change into a wolf every night. I can’t fuckin’ sleep. I don’t understand anyone or anything, I’m living in the shadow of this stranger ‘Sam Kaid’ that I don’t even fuckin’ connect with, and my whole head is wrapped around a woman I barely know who is now terrified of me.”

  “Sam…do you even realize how far you’ve come since you came home?”

  “Home?”

  “Yeah. To the ranch? You’re home. You’re safe. Sam, you’re okay. Don’t matter if you sleep on a porch or out in the woods. Do what makes you comfortable, man. Don’t matter if you don’t understand anything yet. At least you’re not a robot anymore. You having a girl in your head—do you realize what that means?”

&n
bsp; “No.”

  “You’re capable of love. Let that sink in.”

  The breath caught in his throat, and for a few seconds, he couldn’t speak. “Not me. Not love. Not me.”

  “Yes…you,” Bryson said low. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

  “Don’t tell Wes and Hunter,” Sam rushed out. “They’ll start expecting even more from me.”

  “I won’t. You’re gonna tell them.”

  “The fuck I will.”

  “You want to keep this human woman?”

  “Her name’s Cassidy. Cas.”

  “You want to keep Cas?” Bryson corrected.

  Sam chewed on his lip and nodded, then remembered Bryson couldn’t see him and murmured the truth, “Yes.”

  “Then don’t just show her only the bad parts. Don’t just show her just the wolf. Bring her into your world and let her choose to bond to it or not.”

  “My world?”

  “Let her meet your people. See if she can sink or swim with us. You’re okay, Sam. Everything’s okay.”

  Click.

  When the line went dead, Sam frowned at the phone. Bryson had ended the call.

  He didn’t know what that meant—everything’s okay. Nothing had ever been okay since he’d been brought back to life. All he knew was chaos. Chaos, he could understand. But being okay?

  Deep inside, it was something he wanted, just not something he knew how to attain.

  With a growl, he shoved open the truck door and hopped out. He walked around the front of the truck and knelt down by the little yellow flowers.

  Something sweet.

  That didn’t involve blood.

  Chapter Eight

  Well, Sam was gone forever.

  Sam, the mother-freaking wolf.

  Sam, the mother-freaking werewolf.

  Werewolf.

  That’s what he was. A werewolf. Like the movies. Honestly, she did like werewolf movies. With hot, sexy men who turn into werewolves. Only she’d never seen them half changed and terrifying and talking to her in an animal voice and, oh-my shit! He was a werewolf!