Page 83 of Ransom
Ransom walked to the edge of the shelf and looked out over the land. I came up beside him. The wind moved over the top of the ridge. The dark stretched out for fifty miles in front of us with not a single light in it.
"Rafe give you any trouble about leaving?" I asked.
"No, but I cheated a bit," he admitted, looking over at me. "I told him someone needed to make sure this didn't come back on the ranch. I told him I'd make sure it didn't. Don't you go making a liar out of me tomorrow, Ranger."
I shook my head. "This is my cross to bear, and I mean to bear it. Wouldn't throw you or them under the bus like that."
A long pause. The wind kept moving.
"Ransom."
"Yeah."
"What are we doing up here?"
Ransom removed his hat and sat down. I joined him on the ledge, our legs dangling over a hundred foot drop.
"I used to come out here to talk to God," he said quietly. "Back when I believed in that shit." He let his hat rest on his knee and leaned back, both hands flat against the rock. "My dad was a real piece of work. My mom… she tried. Had us in church about as often as she could. But after she left…"
He trailed off, and I let the silence sit between us because I didn't know what to say.
Ransom kicked the heel of his boot against the rock face. "Anyway, she had this prayer. Made us pray for guidance and blessings and all that shit, like normal people do. But she also had us prayin' for whoever God made for us. My mom believed in soulmates. It's why she stuck with my dad for so long. She believed that when you're born, God puts the other half of you in someone else and they're just out there, waiting for you to find 'em."
"Do you believe that?" I asked carefully.
He pressed his lips into a thin line, then picked up his hat and put it back on his head. "I believe in sunrise and sunset, and the smell of the rain on the rock face in the afternoon during monsoon season. I believe a scorpion'll sting you 'cause it can and 'cause it don't know better. I believe things act according to their nature, that to everything there is a season, and a time for each and everything in nature. Whether some magical, all-knowing being made all that and set down a bunch of rules… That's another matter." He looked over at me. "I believe in it because I've seen it. Mother Nature's a bitch and this land we're living on'll chew you up and spit you out if you don't belong. AndRanger… I'm starting to think you might belong out here in the dust with us."
My pulse picked up. "Ransom—"
"I'm not asking, Ranger." He took a step toward me. "I rode you up here so I could tell you that without anybody listening. This place looks good on you." He paused. "And I want you to stay for me."
I went still. The wind kept moving and I couldn't.
"Say that again."
"You heard me."
"Say it again anyway."
He didn't look away. "I want you to stay. For me."
I didn't have an answer for him. Not one I could say out loud, not with El Paso waiting for me at ten and my badge maybe sitting in Cap's drawer by noon. I had nothing to promise him with.
So I leaned over and closed the distance between us.
He kissed me hard enough to taste blood at the back of it. His hand threaded through my hair and pulled. My mouth opened for him, and he took it like he'd already decided. The wind moved between us and around us. I had his shirt fisted at the ribs, hands moving on their own.
Galahad's nose hit me square in the shoulder hard enough to scoot me an inch forward on the rock, and an inch closer to falling a hundred feet to my death.
Ransom caught me and held me. The big bay had his head down between us, ears forward, nostrils working at the side of my face.
Ransom froze.
"Ransom, I think your horse just tried to kill me," I said carefully.
Galahad shoved his nose at me again. I put my hand on his muzzle, and he pushed into it, this time without trying to assassinate me.
"I think he likes you," Ransom said.
