CHAPTER 17: AUGUST

_ ONE WEEK WITHOUT HIM _

The sun is high in the sky, and the dry Wyoming air is unseasonably warm for mid-September, but it's not raining, and that is all I need to keep me focused. Just me, my ax, and the large stack of logs that need cut and split to heat the ranch once the temperature drops. Winter will be here before we know it and the wood pile has been on my list of things to get to all summer.

Today is a good day as any.

I've been at it for nearly two hours, my shirt soaked with sweat, my arms aching with every swing, but either it's do this, or allow my mind wander to where it wishes to go—back to Scotland, back to Patrick.

My brothers, Eli, Duke, and Presley seem to be convinced enough that I'm fine and nothing has changed with me since coming back from my trip. I'm no actor, but apparently I've become good at pretending everything is fine. They don't need to know what is really going on inside my head; it's a mess up there right now.

I'm not the eldest brother, however I'm the one who is supposed to have it all together, the one who should never let things get to him. Since being back and burying myself in non- stop ranch duties and now spending hours splitting firewood, I'm tired . But I have a family to support, food to put on the table, and a roof to keep over our heads, provide heat for the ranch, pay the bills, fix the things that need fixin', and the list goes on.

As my dad said, ‘The job is never done. You keep going until it is.' His job finished in February from the equipment accident, and honestly, I haven't had time to properly mourn his death. Yet another damn thing on my mind.

With another solid thwack, the partial log splits cleanly down the middle, and I toss the pieces onto the growing pile. I wipe the sweat from my brow, breathing hard, trying to tell myself that I'm just working off some of my thoughts, but deep down, I know better. My heart isn't in my work like usual, and it hasn't been in much of anything since I left Patrick behind.

I set the ax down beside me, sit on a stump, and take a moment to catch my breath, staring at the split wood as if it could somehow give me the answers I'm looking for. But all I got was the quiet rustling of the leaves in the trees and the distant whinnying of the horses in the nearby field.

[August grits teeth] "Hell, Patrick." I mutter under my breath. "Why'd you have to go and make me feel this way?"

There's no answer—just the same empty, aching feeling I've had since I stepped on that plane.

I shake my head, wiping my hands on my jeans before heading toward the house. I need a quick breather, maybe a glass of water and a sandwich before getting back to it. I can already tell I'll be sore tomorrow, but that doesn't matter. Physical pain is better than the alternative.

I step inside the main house, hang my hat on the hook, and shuck off my boots, the cool air is a welcome relief from the heat outside. I can hear Momma in the kitchen, humming to herself as she starts supper on the stove. I grab a glass from the cabinet and fill it with cold water from the sink, savoring the way it soothes my dry throat.

[Kelly] "August?" Momma's voice came from behind me, gentle but with that edge that told me she has something on her mind.

[August] "Yeah, Momma?" I turn around and lean against the counter as I take another sip.

She wipes her hands on a towel, her eyes studying me the way only a mother can.

[Kelly] "You've been out there for hours, swingin' that ax like it's the only thing keepin' you together. What's goin' on?"

I try playing it off with a shrug as I set my glass down.

[August] "Just workin' off some steam, is all. Ranch duties don't stop just because I took a trip."

Her head tilts, not buying it for a second.

[Kelly] "Now I know you only use that ax when you're thinking too hard, or when somethin's botherin' you. And you've been out there all morning without runnin' the splitter. You're not able to hide things from your momma, boy." She pauses, giving me that look that meant she already knew more than she's letting on. "Is this about Patrick?"

The way she said his name made my heart lurch in my chest. I don't know how to respond, so I just stand there, staring down at my sock with a hole forming in the big toe, my hands gripping the edge of the counter for stability.

[Kelly] "August." she says more gently this time, moving closer until she's right in front of me. "Talk to me, hun. You know you can tell me anythin'."

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly tight. Momma knows all; her boys can never hide a thing from her.

[August] "Yeah, it's about Patrick." I admit in an almost whisper. "But it's not like there's anything I can do about it, Momma. He's got a life in London. He's got his pub, his friends, his family… I can't ask him to leave all that for me."

She sighs, reaching out and setting a hand on my arm.

[Kelly] "Honey, you really care about this man." She clarifies the thoughts I've wared with every second since being back. "Have you asked Patrick how he feels?"

[August] "I know how he feels." I answer quickly while running a hand through my sweat strewn hair. The memory of our last conversation at the airport is still fresh in my mind. The way his voice cracked when he told me he'd never forget me, the way he'd kissed me like he was afraid it might be the last time… it's enough to tear me apart. I clench my jaw to tamp down the pang in my chest. "We told each other of our love before I got on that plane. [slight anger] But love doesn't change the fact that our lives are here and there. We're an ocean apart, it's not like he's a few states away, that one of us can hop in our truck and visit."

Momma squeezes my arm, her eyes full of understanding and something else – hope, maybe.

[Kelly] "Love works in mysterious ways, August. You never know what life has in store for you. But one thing I do know is that when you find somethin' special, you don't just let it slip away."

[August] "But what am I supposed to do?" I ask, my voice breaking a little despite my best efforts to keep it together. "I can't leave the ranch, and he can't leave his pub. It's like… we're stuck."

She smiles softly, brushing a strand of hair out of my face like she used to do when I was little then she cups my cheek and stares up at me with bright hazel eyes.

[Kelly] "Keep smilin', sweetheart. Have faith that things will get sorted out between you and Patrick. Life has a way of surprisin' us when we least expect it."

I want to believe her, I really do. But right now, all I can feel is the weight of the distance between me and the man I've fallen for, and the helplessness of knowing there isn't a damn thing I can do to change it.

[August] "Yeah." I murmur, trying to muster a smile for her sake. "I'll try, Momma."

As I down the rest of my glass and turn to leave the kitchen, that ache in my chest is still there, just as strong as ever.

The next morning, I'm up before dawn, as usual. The ranch is always quiet at this time, the sky just starting to lighten with the promise of a new day. The cattle would need to be checked, the horses fed and exercised, and there was a list of other tasks as long as my arm waiting for me.

I saddle up my best horse, Rebel, and set out across the ranch, my mind occupied with thoughts of the things needing done before the ground freezes, and of Patrick. It's hard focusing on anything else when he's always in the back of my mind, no matter how hard I tried to push him away.

I send a quick message asking how his day is with no response. He's busy, so I'll check back after lunch to tell him to have a restful night. Seven hours in time difference is really killing me.

Oh well. What are you gonna do? Keep on, keepin' on, I suppose.

Wade, my foreman, is already out at the north pasture, where the cattle are grazing. He gave me a nod as I approached, his eyes scanning the herd with the practiced ease of someone who'd been doing this his whole life. Because he has. He's been part of my life as long as I can remember; he's my best friend, a brother. While my parents never officially adopted him – his wishes, not theirs – Wade has been in our home since the age of eight.

His upbringing wasn't the greatest; his dad ran out on him, his momma, and his four sisters at the age of seven. Unable to take the burden of raising five kids on her own, his momma took her life with booze and pills. No other family willing to take them in, they were split up and went into foster care. Wade is the second oldest, like me, and would run away from his home all the time, and you know where he'd go – straight to Schuster Ranch. Here he felt the most loved, and it's a place he called home. The miles on that man's feet is astounding. My momma and daddy were granted custody of him after two years of running. So, while he may not see himself as a brother – Wade is a Schuster – he's family.

Sure, we have a past together, I mean, horny teen boys with all those raging hormones, it had to go somewhere. We were each other's firsts, always sneaking off to find a quiet place where no one would find us, horsing around and competing constantly. Our trysts lessened as we became older and found interests in other high school teens, most wanting to explore their sexuality or say they tried it once. I can't tell you for certain what really happened between us, but there is a distance. For the past couple of years we've only sought out the other when the ache gets to be too much, and now that I'm officially his boss, things are strictly professional. It's not weird between us, but something is definitely off.

[Wade] "Morning, boss." he greets me as he takes his hat off and runs a hand through his messy dark brown locks. The man is need major need of a haircut and a good shave. "Everythin's lookin' good here. No sign of any sick ones or injuries."

[August] "Good." I reply, patting Rebel's neck absently. I think I'll take her out later to run, just the two of us and the open range. We are both overdue. "Let's move them to the east pasture by weeks' end. The grass over there needs it." His answer is short a sweet as per usual.

[Wade] "Ten-four. I'll make sure we're all on the same page."

We sit in silence as we gaze out over the acres of grassland. There's a crushing weight on me not knowing if I'm doing any of this right or if I'm even good enough to fill my dad's shoes. It's getting harder and harder each day that passes, and I'm just trying to keep my chin above water.

[Wade] "Hey, August." Wade speaks up after a while, pulling up beside me as we continue our daily duties. "You alright? You've been quiet since you got back from your trip." I force a smile that doesn't reach my eyes.

[August] "Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a lot on my mind, I guess."

Wade's brow furrows slightly as he studies me. He knew me well enough to tell when something was off. But he isn't pushin the subject. He tends to keep to himself most days but always has a friendly attitude toward the other workers. Take him down to the only bar in town, get a few beers in him, and you'll see his chatty side come alive.

[Wade] "How ‘bout we grab a beer tonight and catch up. You can tell me about London and all its fancy tea." His tone is casual, not hinting to anything in particular – strictly professional. He smirks and I chuckle.

[August laughter] "I might take you up on that, Wade." I nod slowly, appreciating the offer even though I'm not ready to talk about it. He can understand better than anyone else on this ranch what I might be going through. We're not ones to express feelings all that often after going through tragedies, but I appreciate him being there for me. The sentiment goes both ways.

We spent the rest of the morning checking on the other pastures, fixing a fence on the far side, and now we're dealing with the new wild untamed stallion that just came in. Curtis Reed, our nearest neighbor, thought it be a good investment to buy this horse to breed his mares with, only he found this investment to be too much for him to handle and his patience shot, so he brought him here. We've named him Zeus, as he shot off the trailer like a bolt of lightning, spooking two nearby horses and causing chaos. The name fits with his spirit, that's for damn sure.

At this point I don't need one more thing on my plate to have to worry about, but I have never been one to just abandon an animal. We have to at least try and rehabilitate him. My brother Duke is all too eager to take on breaking the horse, as long as he keeps away from the others until we get a better read on him, we should be fine. Duke is who we call the horse whisperer; he can train just about anything and has the patience of a saint.

Our neighbor Curtis Reed is the oldest Reed sibling with his twin brothers Callum and Cade, and two younger sisters Callie and Casey. His family and the Schuster's have a longstanding rivalry between us that started over fifty years ago. Our grand pappy's have history, once friends and growing up together, turned to stealing someone's woman, cattle, or land, then came harboring grudges that are passed down through generations.

I've had to play devil's advocate more than a time or two when dad or pappy got on a tangent about the Reeds; what they have or don't have compared to us, what they've supposedly taken from us, and the list goes on. That kinda thing is petty shit; It's all in the past and what's done is done. Leave well enough alone and move the fuck on. I don't have time for grudges and hatred. Can't we all just get along?

[Sigh] Ugh. Today has felt like one big damn distraction that doesn't wanna let up. When will this rancher catch a break?