The Benders Read Online Free PDF Page B

stare at Arn’s workbench and try to remember—he had deep-blue eyes that winked out of his tan face like a sliver of sky peeking through clouds. And he loved my Mama. Loved her fiercely. I hope they’re together somewhere, Arn and Mama.
    “He wasn’t your pa, though, right?”
    How have we never talked about this? “Nuh-uh,” I say, shaking my head. “He was Ethan’s daddy, but I’m a Breeder’s baby. No daddy for me.”
    Clay goes back to peering into stacks of yellowing how-to manuals. “Everybody’s got a daddy, even if yours left a deposit and went on his merry way.”
    I stop, my hands on the dusty wood of Arn’s desk. It’s strange, but I never really stopped to think about having a father before. Most of the time I pictured doctors concocting me out of some goop and hatching me in a petri dish, but I know that’s not the case.
    “You think one of the men at the hospital provided the…stuff that made me happen?” I ask, squeezing my hands together.
    Clay nods. “Somebody had to. Mostly likely candidate would be a doctor or one of the staff. I doubt they take deposits from outsiders.”
    I run my hands over my arms. This line of talk is twisting my insides. All this time I pictured myself made up of only my mama. And yet, Clay’s right. There has to be a man who makes up the other half of me. The idea spawns countless other thoughts—what he looked like, what he was interested in—until my head’s spinning.
    Clay comes over and takes me in his arms. I press my face to the worn softness of his button-down shirt. “Don’t waste your time wondering about a father you may or may not have,” he whispers into the crook of my neck. “It don’t change who you are.”
    I nod, and his lips find the soft places along my collar, turning my worry into want. I tilt my head up toward his and he cups my chin with his hand. He leans in to kiss me and kiss me he does. His mouth moves expertly over mine until my body burns for him. He pulls me closer. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips to his throat, to the V of skin peering through the fabric of his shirt. I let my fingers undo the buttons there and touch the smooth, lean muscles of his chest. He breathes against my collarbone as his hands lace into my hair and pull my lips back to his. Then he lifts me into his arms and carries me into the fresh hay.
    In the dark and stillness of the barn, we’re together. Together is all I’ve ever wanted.
    ***
    At dusk we head back to the house to find Ethan. He’s curled in the corner of my mama and Arn’s old room asleep. Tear streaks trace through the dirt on his peaceful, sleeping face. I squat before him and touch a finger to those trails of tears. The problem is, I still see the baby I carried on my hip. The roundness of his cheeks, the pout in his lips. I probably won’t be able to think of him as a man when he’s twenty, let alone nine.
    Clay squats beside me and looks Ethan over. “He keeps asking me to teach him to shoot, to fist fight,” Clay whispers. “I think he’s seen too many people die. It’s messed with his head.” Clay sighs and drums his finger on his knees. “Wish I coulda kept him from seein’ all he has.”
    I nod. “I wish he could just be a kid, you know.” I lift my eyes to the window and the graying sky. “I had such a happy childhood. My parents sheltered me from most of the bad stuff. I’ve failed at that.”
    Clay shakes his head. “You do what you can. We all do. “Sides, he needs to be tough. It’ll keep him alive.” Then he puts his palm on Ethan’s shoulder and gives it a gentle shake. “Bud, wake up. Time to go.”
    Ethan stirs, his lips twitching. Eyes flutter open. “What’s going on?”
    Clay stands, brushing dirt off his knees. Then he presses his cowboy hat on his head and lifts his chin, all business. “Tonight we drive to town and I take back what was mine.”

CHAPTER THREE
Riley
    The road is dark and empty as we drive in tense silence