Chapter 1: Austin

15 years later

“Austin Brown, it’s good to see you, wish it was under better circumstances.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Mr. Smith,” I reply.

“You know, the high school football team was never the same, after you left.”

I don’t really want to make small talk. I just want to get this meeting over with so that I can head back home. Mr. Smith is the family lawyer, well, he’s the only lawyer in this town. He had cornered me at my grandpa’s funeral to say that he needed to see me, and could I come to his office. So, twenty-four hours later, I find myself sitting opposite him.

“I heard they did pretty well, without me,” I say back, wondering how I can move this conversation along.

“I know that you are wondering why I called you here today,” Mr. Smith finally starts, and I nod my head in agreement. “Well, it has to do with your grandparents’ ranch.”

“The ranch?”

“Yes. Your grandparents have left the ranch to you,” Mr. Smith states, and I wonder if I heard him right.

“Me? But surely it goes to Dad?”

“Not this time. Your grandparents were very adamant that it got left to you. Your dad is aware, I believe, of their wishes, but they left some stipulations.”

Growing up I had loved spending time on the ranch. I spent all my summers there. Hell, I even had my first kiss there, but I haven’t been back to the ranch since I left when I was fifteen. Mom and Dad never seemed to be able to make it back, always encouraging Gran and Pops to come visit us, instead. So I couldn’t, for the life of me, think of why they left the place to me.

“Which are?”

“Considering how long it’s been since you’ve been at the ranch, they thought that you might want to try and sell it straight away. Well, you can’t. In order to be able to sell it, you must first have lived and worked there for a year.”

“A year?” How the hell am I supposed to live there for a year? I had my job. My life.

“Yes,” Mr. Smith repeats. “You’re allowed to refuse it, but the ranch would be given to a third party. I’m not allowed to tell you who. As per your grandparents’ wishes.”

“So, we would get nothing?”

“No, there is some money that your grandparents saved, that is being given to your parents, but the ownership of the ranch would be transferred.”

“But after a year, the ranch would be mine?”

“Yes, but you should know that, if at any point during the year, you quit, the ranch will be given to the third party.”

“But my entire life isn’t here, anymore,” I say, thinking out loud more than talking to Mr. Smith.

“I think your grandparents knew that, but they remembered the love you had for the place, and hoped that maybe they could ignite it again.”

“When would the year need to start?”

“Immediately.” And I can see that he feels a little awkward saying that to me.

“But Christmas is, what, three weeks away?”

“It’s not ideal,” Mr. Smith starts. “I think your grandpa was hoping to get through this winter.”

There is a part of me that just wants to tell Mr. Smith to give it to this mysterious third party. It must be someone who loves the ranch as much as my grandparents did, for them to want to leave it to them. But that is not something that I can do, not without discussing it with my parents. After all, it’s the home my dad grew up in, and it had been in his family for generations.

“I’m going to have to talk to my parents. Am I able to call you later?”

“Yes, but, unfortunately, I will need your answer today. With it being so close to Christmas, we need to get all the paperwork handled.”

“Of course, Mr. Smith.”

Getting up from my chair, Mr. Smith copies me, so that we’re both standing, and I stretch out my hand to him. He takes it in a firm handshake.

“I hope that you decide to stay. It would be a shame to see the ranch leave the family,” Mr. Smith adds, as I let go of his hand.

“Yes, it would, but some things can’t be helped. My dad was never cut out to be a ranch owner,” I say over to him. “I’ll call you as soon as I’ve made my decision.”

Leaving his office, all I can think about is what the hell am I going to do? The easiest option is to give up the ranch, but there is this knot of something, deep within me, that hates the thought. Would my grandparents be disappointed in me? They obviously thought that I could run it. But it had been a long time since I had worked the ranch, and I wasn’t sure if it was something that I could do anymore.

The ranch was just about a ten-minute drive outside of town, and all I could think about on the drive was the last time I had been there. At the time, I hadn’t realized that it would be the last time I would see the place for fifteen years. I thought I would still be coming back every summer, but football took over my life. Instead of coming here, I went to football camps. Worked on being the best football player. My parents had hoped I would get into the NFL, and it had been a dream of mine for a while, too. But college changed all of that.

I stopped enjoying the sport that had consumed so much of my life. I found myself missing practices, to the point that my coach pulled me aside to tell me that he was putting me on reserve. Instead, I had quit right there and then. My parents had been disappointed, hoping that I would change my mind, but they never forced me to go back. Instead, I was drawn into the world of computers and graphics. I switched majors, and soon discovered a passion that had never gone away. In fact, it became my livelihood, designing and programming video games.

Turning off the main road, I take my time driving up the dirt road to the ranch, just waiting for the house to come into view, before pulling my truck to a stop and staring at it. It hadn’t changed, and I chuckle to myself as I remember thinking that it looks like it just came off of a movie set. The house is a two-story building with white wood siding, surrounded by grass, but my favorite feature of the house is the wrap-around porch. It covers two sides of the house, the roof held up with pillars, and the yard is surrounded by a white fence. There are steps that lead down onto the grass, and at one end of the porch is a gorgeous wood bench swing that could fit more than two people at a time.

I had spent many evenings there with Gran, that last summer. Sipping iced tea and talking about what it was going to be like living so far away, football, school, and girls. I never imagined it would be the last time I sat there with her.

Moving the truck forward, I pull up to the side of the house and look around. Could I make this home again? Could I face being away from the noise, the hustle and bustle of the city? My job allowed me the freedom to work from home ninety percent of the time. With the occasional trip into the office. Mainly for meetings, but even they were starting to be more and more online. Which meant that, as long as the internet connection was good, I could continue to work from here.

Mom, Dad, and I had been staying at the house since we heard about Pops. We were told that there was a ranch hand that would keep looking after the animals, who had a small property on the land. So, it would give us our space to grieve. There was a part of me that wondered if it was Colt, but I was sure that he had his own place by now. It hadn’t stopped me from scanning the crowd at the funeral, but I hadn’t seen him.

“Mom, Dad,” I call out as I enter the house.

“Hey, Austin. We’re in the kitchen,” I hear Mom shout back.

The kitchen was at the back of the house, and it was really the heart of the home. It was Gran’s favorite room, she spent hours in here making pies, cookies, and preserves. There was always something delicious in the oven, spreading warmth throughout the house.

“So, Mr. Smith told you?” Dad asks, as I walk into the kitchen. He’s sitting at a huge oak table that can seat eight people, easily, with a book in his hand.

“Yeah. Gran and Pops left the ranch to me,” I confirm, as I walk over to join him at the table.

“They told us years ago that that was their plan,” Mom adds. “So, what now? Put it up for sale?” As she pulls out the chair next to Dad.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?” Dad asks, shooting a look over to Mom.

“Gran and Pops had said that I have to live and work on the ranch for a year before it’s mine.”

“That can’t be right,” Mom exclaims.

“Mr. Smith was very clear. Plus, if I refuse, the ranch will be left to a third party. And, before you ask, Mr. Smith couldn’t tell me.”

Dad suddenly chuckles next to me, causing both Mom and I to look over to him. For the first time since Pop’s death, he’s smiling, which wasn’t the reaction I really expected.

“Dad?”

“Gran and Pops were crafty little sods. They told me they were going to leave the ranch to you, the day you were born. They knew I was never going to be a rancher, so I didn’t mind. They loved watching you grow up here. How you loved the animals. When your mom and I told them we were leaving, I was told that they would figure out a way to get you back here permanently, and it looks like they did.”

“You think I should stay?” I ask him.

“I think that is a decision only you can make,” Dad replies. “We were left some money, more than I expected. Whoever else they left the ranch to, must have been someone very important to Gran and Pops. So, the ranch would be in good hands, if that’s what you decide.”

Looking around the kitchen, I take in the surroundings before getting out of the chair and making my way over to the kitchen sink. It’s placed right in front of a window that takes up most of the wall. It has views out over the fields where I can see some horses grazing. The field stretches for miles before they merge into the distant hills.

“I’m going to stay, for Gran and Pops,” I tell the window, before turning back around to face Mom and Dad.

“It won’t be easy,” Dad says.

“I know, but I want to try. Plus, if I fail, it goes to the third party, anyway. But at least I can say I tried. Mr. Smith explained that I would need to take over immediately. So, I can’t come back with you.”

“What about your job and apartment?” Mom asks.

“My job, I should be able to do from here. I have no idea about my apartment. I will try and sub-let it in the new year. I honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“We have to leave tomorrow,” Dad starts. “I’m needed back at work, but maybe we can come back in a few weeks for Christmas.”

“I know, Dad.” I hated the thought of them leaving, but Dad loved his job. My mind was made up. I had fifteen years of ranch life to make up for.

Pulling out my cell phone, I type in the number for Mr. Smith’s office, and I wait to be connected.

“Austin,” Mr. Smith says.

“Mr. Smith, I have decided to stay,” I say down the line.

“Oh, Austin, that’s good to hear. I will get the necessary documentation done as per your grandparents’ wishes. I know that your parents are due to travel home tomorrow, so I will contact the ranch hand to meet you the day after. Be ready at six am.”

“Six?” Wondering if I heard him right.

“Yeah, and Austin, you better get yourself some durable clothes. You're gonna need them.”