This Fearless Girl (St. Clary's University #2) - E. M. Moore Page 0,45
contain the gasp that threatens. “But what about you?”
“I was in the way.”
“Wyatt…fuck. That’s just…fucking awful. I don’t even know what to say.”
“It’s completely fucked. I loved that ranch more than anything. I haven’t been able to bring myself to visit since it happened.”
“Do you still own it?”
He nods. “Yeah. The bitch didn’t get the death money. I did.”
I close my eyes. So many things just fell into place when it came to Wyatt Longhorn.
His hatred of women. I can’t blame him for that shit. His mother pulled the ultimate betrayal on him.
The way he loves Stone and Lucas fiercely. His true family. He knows they would never do anything like that to him.
“I’m—”
“Don’t say sorry. I’ve had enough apologies to last me a lifetime, and not a single one of them has ever brought my father back or made my mother a better person.”
I nod. “Thank you for trusting me.”
He swallows. “You asked me once why I cared. I’ve been lying to myself a whole lot, Dakota. It seems like all I ever do is lie to myself, but I don’t want to do that anymore.” He turns toward me. “I care about you. I don’t have a story like Lucas and Stone where I saw you as a little girl in pigtails and fell in love with how broken you were, but I do see a woman who makes me have faith that not every female is a scheming cunt who’s only out for herself.”
“That’s a ringing endorsement: not a scheming cunt.”
He breaks into a smile. “Plus, you have a sense of humor, and I can’t stand pretentious princesses.”
“We can agree on that,” I tell him, trying to analyze his features and wishing that there was at least a little more light in here.
After a while, Wyatt says, “I’m going to try to get close to you, Dakota.”
The air gets sucked from the room. His words feel like a confession. A promise. A hint of what’s to come.
“Does that scare you?”
“Everything scares me.”
“Good,” he muses. “That’s how you know you’re living.”
16
The sun shines down like a blazing fire. I forgot how hot it could be trekking up the mountainside with a twenty-pound pack on my back. Sweat trickles all the way down my spine. Water stops are a must.
Stone surveys us. He’s been doing that all morning after the small breakfast we ate—the only one we’ll be having in that fashion for the rest of the weekend. We’ll be spending the night up here with every waking hour dedicated to the treasure. My ancestors map will be tattooed on the inside of our brains by the time we hike back out on Sunday afternoon.
Sometimes it feels like I’ve been over every inch of this damn mountain with nothing to show for it. Then, I look at it from a trailhead and realize just how big it is. Every little crag and crevice turns into a possible hiding space, and there’s no freaking way I’ve even touched the tip of the iceberg.
We decided to take one of my father’s favorite routes up the mountain face. It’s the route I’m sure he took that fateful day when he didn’t come back. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t searching for any sign of him, even knowing that if I found him up here at all, he’d be dead. No one can survive that long in the Superstitions by themselves.
Though recovering his body would tear me up inside, it would provide closure to that chapter of my life. Not that I want it to end like that. Never in a million years did I think treasure hunting would kill my father, but I’m beginning to learn that sometimes, fate has a different story to tell.
Take Wyatt’s words to me the other day. A mother isn’t supposed to want the father of her son dead, and she certainly isn’t supposed to take her son out in the process either.
We cap the tops on our water and start off again. The trail from here on up gets a little rocky with significantly less vegetation, but the new boots I’m wearing make everything easier than I’m used to. I bet I won’t have blisters for days when we return. That’ll be something to look forward to.
The trail switchbacks, the muted reds and browns dulling from the constant bake under the sun. Closer to where we’ll make camp, we have to climb over a few massive boulders. Wyatt reaches for me as we climb