8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Remington

I’d had no intention of heading out to the Kelly ranch when I woke up in the morning. It’d been on my list of eventualies , but I hadn’t worked myself up to doing it, and the dull ache in my head wasn’t helping anything.

Yet here I was, the tires of my rented truck crunching over the gravel of the road leading to their property. I’d needed a reason to make an exit during a strange visit from two women bearing muffins and poetry. No idea what that had been about, but they hadn’t seemed too keen on leaving, so I’d made my excuses.

Sugar Brush might’ve changed, but at first glance, things were the same. Crispy, yellow grass covered the prairie fields as far as the eye could see. Hand-constructed fences lined the road on either side. A few pronghorns grazed, unconcerned by my presence.

I’d spent a lot of days out here, riding one of the Kelly horses alongside Caleb, checking the fences and repairing weak spots. Mr. Kelly had paid me a sweet salary, but I would have done it for free. Spending time riding and bullshitting with my friend while giving me a solid excuse not to be home had been all I’d needed.

I couldn’t be mad about the money, though. I’d socked it away, using it to buy my ticket out of here when I graduated high school.

Driving up to the house I grew up in had left me cold. Steering my truck under the solid wooden archway—the words Sugar Brush River Ranch emblazoned on it—gave me a feeling of coming home, as unfamiliar as it was.

Best times of my life had been spent on this ranch. I’d let myself forget all the good that had happened here—pushed it all away with the things I’d tried hard to forget. It had been a matter of survival. If I would have allowed myself to miss anything about this place, I wouldn’t have been able to cut myself off so completely.

I pulled my truck into a makeshift spot next to a couple others near the barns. Ranch hands and other workers were around, doing their jobs, not paying me any mind as I climbed out, my boots hitting the dirt. I closed my eyes and sucked in the air. I’d been all over and had never found anything like the air in Wyoming. Even in the high heat of summer, it was crisp, filling my lungs with goodness.

Pushing off my truck, I made my way to the main barn. I had no idea where Caleb would be this time of day, but this was my best guess. Chances were just as good he was on the other side of the property.

I walked into the stable where the working horses were kept. At first glance, most of the stalls were empty, but a few had horses. In front of one, two men were in conversation. One average height and leanly built, a cowboy hat perched on his head. The other tall, broad as hell, with shaggy brown hair hitting his shoulders and a backward baseball hat.

Didn’t know the first guy, wouldn’t have recognized the second if he’d passed me on the street. But we weren’t in some random location. Here, on the ranch, I knew my former friend, even if he’d grown half a foot and his shoulders had exploded outward, creating their own hemisphere.

The two stopped talking as I approached. The lean man frowned, but it wasn’t unfriendly. Caleb, on the other hand, surveyed me, stark suspicion weighing down his furrowed brow.

“Hey,” I started. “Caleb, it’s—”

“Nope.” He held up a hand. “Turn right back around and go back to where you came from. Not interested, and not welcome.”

I stopped moving, my hands balled at my sides. The lean man’s head swiveled between us. I hadn’t been counting on a welcome home parade, but his anger was a surprise.

“Now, Cay, that’s not neighborly. I—”

Caleb cut him off too. “I don’t have any desire to be neighborly right now, Bill. This guy’s not a neighbor, and he’s not a guest at the ranch. That means he has no reason to be here.”

I pushed through the heavy weight crushing my chest. “The reason is seeing you.” I shoved my fingers through my hair, grazing the scar on the side of my head. “I’m assuming you recognize me.”

He grunted, focusing on some point over my shoulder. “Know who you are, Town. That’s why I’m telling you to leave. You’re not welcome here.”

I never contemplated what it’d be like seeing Caleb again. Those kinds of thoughts hadn’t had any place in the life I’d created away from here. The truth was, I’d never planned on coming back. But if I’d taken any time to consider it, it wouldn’t have gone down like this. Not even close.

“I’d like to talk to you.” Lifting my chin at the horse nudging him from behind, I said, “I can see you’re busy. I would’ve called, but I didn’t have your number.”

He scoffed. “Hasn’t changed. Guess you erased it along with everything else.”

Yeah, this isn’t a good look for me.

The lean man strode forward, his hand out. “Bill Eddings. Pleased to meet you.”

I shook his hand. “Remi Town. Nice to meet you too, Bill.”

His eyes flared as he let go of my hand and smoothed his down the front of his button-down. “Real sorry for your loss, Remi. Graham will be missed around here. When I see Hannah driving her truck, I catch myself looking for him in the passenger seat. Can’t get used to not seeing him.” He shook his head sadly. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two to it. Sounds like you have some catching up to do.”

Silence stretched thick between us once Bill left. Not that it was true silence. Horses huffed. Shouts and idle chatter filtered in from outside. Wind whistled through cracks. Gravel got kicked up by trucks and ATVs. But it was all background noise, leaving Caleb and me face to face for the first time since we were eighteen. Kids, basically.

He broke the silence. “I’m working, Town. Not up for any reunions.”

“I figured.” I nodded, forcing myself to push back the discomfort of not being welcomed back into the fold as easily as I was suddenly wishing I could’ve been. “I had to replace my phone years ago. Couldn’t keep the same number and lost all my contacts. Losing your number wasn’t a choice, but it happened. Like I said, I would’ve called first if I could’ve.”

He grunted but didn’t give me an inch to work with. I pushed forward.

“I’m hoping I can buy you a beer and explain. Catch up on what I’ve missed. I’m not asking for forgiveness, Cay. Just a beer and shooting the breeze.”

He turned his head, but I didn’t miss the way his nostrils flared. “Two beers,” he gruffed.

It took me a second to comprehend what he meant. Once realization hit, the corner of my mouth hitched. I had no right to feel the swing of optimism, but I did all the same. Caleb agreeing to a beer didn’t equal forgiveness, but it was better than I’d set out expecting.

“Think I can afford a couple beers.”

His jaw worked back and forth. “I’m gonna need a burger too. Least you can do is buy my dinner if you’re gonna fuck up my night.”

I bit back a laugh. “Yeah, I could go for a burger too.”

“All right then. I’ll meet you at Joy’s. It’ll have to be early.”

I nodded. Ranch hours probably had him rising with the sun. “Right. Five?”

“I’ll be there.” He turned his back to me, giving his horse his full attention. I’d have liked to stay, see the ranch, ask him a hundred questions, but pushing my luck didn’t seem wise.

As I drove back to the house, I hoped I wouldn’t have any more women with strangely tall hair popping by to read me poetry. I didn’t think I could be polite if I had to sit through another sonnet. I just didn’t have it in me.