Calla wished she was the kind of person who could face down the town bully. But she hated confrontation. She had ever since she was a little kid and would hide under the bed when her parents had screaming matches. Then Mama left when Dad got sick. Not before that one last fight, though, where she shouted about how she was still young and there was no reason to let Dad’s illness ruin two lives.
“What about Calla?” her dad asked. “What about your daughter?”
Silence. Then, “I couldn’t bear watching her get sick too.”
“There’s only a fifty percent chance she has it. It’s just as likely that she’s perfectly fine.”
“And you expect me to live like that? Hoping on a coin toss? No. It’s better if I leave now.”
“Better for who?” Calla had never heard her dad’s voice so bitter.
Another long silence. “I know I’m a coward. I don’t expect your forgiveness. But I’m just not strong enough for this. Goodbye Edward.”
Then she left. The house got real quiet after that. Years and years of quiet, her dad only talking to her when there was something to be done around the ranch.
All of this meant Calla didn’t say a word to Bethany as she turned to slam back out the door.
“Just admit it,” Bethany straightened up. “Your dad raised you like the son he always wanted. You couldn’t even get that right. You lost him his ranch. Now what are you going to do? No man is ever going to want you.”
Calla froze at the door, an alien fury burning in her chest.
Too far.
Too much.
She’d woken up that morning only to say goodbye to the only home she’d ever known.
All the land that had been in her family for three generations was officially sold to none other than Bethany’s father, Ned. He’d been trying to buy them out for years. Dad always swore he’d never sell his land to a Cunningham. Turned out that between the failing economy, a few years of serious mismanagement, and Dad’s worsening illness, the choice was made for them.
Not that Dad saw it that way. Last time she went to visit him at the home, he’d refused to even see her. If he’d had his way, they would have fought till the day the bank came and foreclosed on the place. And then Ned Cunningham would get the property anyway—at the bank auction.
Screw it. Calla was tired of keeping quiet and not causing waves. She swung back around to the blonde little Barbie wannabe.
“Well if being a woman means being a vindictive bitch like you, guess I’m happy the way I am. Besides, I don’t need a man to validate my existence.”
Bethany’s mouth dropped open before she scrambled for a comeback. “Good, because the only man who’d want to fuck you would be a gay dude.”
“Well at least I know I deserve better than a drunken hookup in the bathroom of a bar.”
Bethany looked like she was about to spit fire. “Liam and me are meant to be. Not that I expect some he-she freak like you to understand. No one will ever want you. You’ll die old and alone.”
Enough. Calla’s entire body was shaking as she shoved the bathroom door open. She refused to let Bethany know how well her words hit target.
Call
a held her head high as she walked through the bar to the counter. Hey look, God answered some prayers. Liam was nowhere in sight as she walked over to her still mostly full beer mug.
“Hey Bubba,” she said when she got to her stool, “I’m gonna cash out my tab.” She pulled out her phone and clicked on the Uber app. Hawthorne had a total of two Uber drivers, but Wayne only drove on weekends. Tonight there’d only be Carl and he liked to be in bed by eleven. It was ten-thirty, so she was pushing it.
She clicked through the app. Okay, Carl was ten minutes out.
“Heading home so soon?” Bubba ran his hand down his long Santa like beard in the habitual way he had that Calla was sure violated some health code.
She smirked. “Been warming this stool since dinnertime.”
Bubba leaned his elbows on the bar. “Prettiest face gracing my counter tonight.”
Calla rolled her eyes. Bubba sure could tell a whopper with a straight face. “My tab?”