by Parker, Ali
“Fine,” she sighed. “Let’s go.”
We trotted the horses to the back of the truck. It was parked out on the pasture, near a few bales of hay.
“Abi, why don’t you take Sunshine back to the barn. I need to talk to your brother,” he said.
“Alright Father,” she said. She gave me a smug look, then a cheeky grin—once she was out of Father’s sight.
“Yes sir?” I asked, once Abi was out of earshot.
“I need you to take Dylan under your wing. He’s been better with his responsibilities, but I want him to learn more of the books, not just the physical work of the ranch.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, show him the books for the animal stock trading, the shows, the budget for the feeds—all of it. I want him to know how to do it, start to finish, so maybe in the future he can take some of the load off of you. He’s not a baby anymore and it’s time he learns more about the ranch. He needs to know the books,” he said.
I was already feeling overwhelmed before he told me this. Dylan was not exactly the book type. He was still young and rambunctious, so the thought of trying to get him to sit down for more than an hour when there wasn’t food or beer involved was not something I was looking forward to.
“Alright, Father. I can do that,” I said.
“Good. I’m counting on you, Connor. I’ll show him again in a few months, but I want you to get started on this project with him first. I’m finishing up some cattle transports to Dallas and once that’s done I’ll be able to give Dylan my full attention.”
“Yes sir,” I said.
“That’s all,” he said.
I turned Thunder toward the stables.
“Oh, and Connor—”
“Yes sir?”
“Don’t be hard on your sister with this redecorating business. Just keep her in line with the budget,” he said.
“Yes sir,” I nodded. Then I flipped the reins, letting Thunder move into a trot again. I had a heavy weight on my shoulders, heavier than when I’d started my ride earlier this morning. Not only did I need to help keep Abi within budget with her remodeling project, now I was going to be taking Dylan under my wing, as well. How much could I take on?
4
Lydia Myers
I woke up in a heated state. “Oh my Lord,” I said, opening my eyes. I realized that I’d had a wet dream. It was very vivid and life-like. I was actually sweaty from it, and the moisture between my thighs let me know that I had responded. I was dreaming about the cowboy from the dance hall. Though it had been a long time since I had been with a man.
“Damn it,” I said out loud, annoyed with myself. I kicked my feet over and rolled off the bed. The cold water I splashed on my face in the bathroom helped. Why was I still thinking about him? He was nothing special. I looked at myself in the mirror, “Stop thinking about that brash cowboy, Lydia.”
Two hours later, after breakfast and another pep talk to myself, I was on my way to work at Patton Designs, an interior design company. The company was owned by my boss, Janet Patton. I hoped I’d have a company of my own one day, but that was far into the future.
Pulling into the coffee shop drive-thru, I picked up two cappuccinos before heading in.
“Is that for me?” Whitney asked, as I walked in holding out one of the cups to her.
“Yes.”
“Thank you so much. How was your Sunday day off?” she asked, as I fired up my laptop and started looking through my schedule. Whitney, Janet, and I often brought our laptops out in the lobby reception area and did light duties like checking email or looking through the stock. That was the great thing about laptops, you could take them throughout the office, or even take your work home with you.
“It was good, fairly uneventful,” I said.
“Let me guess, junk food, wine, and a movie.”
I looked up from my laptop at her. She was giving me a look.
“What? Is that bad for a Sunday?”
“Not unless it’s every single Sunday for months. You need to start dating, Lydia. You should be going on Sunday picnics and having movie nights in the arms of a hot man.”
“Spare me the lecture. I haven’t even finished my coffee yet,” I said.
“Well, drink up because the day is already starting,” she whispered. Just then, the front door opened.
“Mr. Walters, good morning,” I said.
In walked a short, skinny man of about forty. He was balding, wore glasses, and his suit wasn’t exactly a good fit. I also noticed that he had some feminine qualities to his demeanor.
“Lydia. Good to see you. I thought I would stop in on my way to work and take care of that last payment,” he said.
“Absolutely, let me pull up your billing file,” I said, moving to my laptop.
Whitney cleared her throat and walked across the room to put away some paint samples, but she was still within earshot. I knew she was doing that on purpose.
“I really love what you did with my office. I can’t thank you enough. It is much lighter and I find I am more productive because of it,” Mr. Walters said.
“Thank you. I’m always glad to hear from a happy customer,” I said. Sliding a sheet of paper in from of him, I pointed to the bottom, “Here is your balance.” He looked it over and took out his checkbook. As he was writing the check he glanced over at Whitney, then back at me.
“I also wanted to ask if you would like to have dinner with me some time,” he said quietly.
I felt like I had been hit by a ton of bricks. Getting asked out by a man I was not interested in was never fun to deal with.
“That is kind of you, but actually, I have a serious boyfriend,” I lied. Whitney loudly cleared her throat.
“Oh, of course you do. Here you are,” he said, handing me the check. Then he put his card on top of it. “Here is my card in case you break up,” he smiled.
“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, taking the card.
“Well, have a good day ladies,” he said, and walked out.
Whitney came over to me with a big smile on her face.
“Shut it,” I said.
“What? Why did you turn him down? He seemed nice and successful. And older, just like you wanted,” she said.
“All that may be true, but he’s also not my type. He has small hands and he’s very feminine. I don’t like that,” I said.
“Yes, I know. You like a hard man, a real cowboy, just like the one from the dance hall.”
My face turned red.
“Yep, you’re blushing,” she said.
“I am not!”
“Good morning. Meeting in ten,” Janet said, walking in from the back. Whitney and I both grew quiet after affirming the meeting with our boss.
The day went by slowly. Not just because we didn’t have a client that week, but because I couldn’t stop thinking about that mysterious cowboy. It was harder to stay distracted from it because there wasn’t a lot of immediate work keeping the pressure on.
Finally, it was lunchtime.
“Where do you want to go? I’m really hungry,” Whitney asked, as we grabbed our purses from the back room.
“I’m thinking we walk to the pizza joint,” I said.
“Perfect. Pizza by the slice—I’ll just need three slices,” she said.
I laughed and we headed out to the sidewalk in front of our building. It was a nice sunny Texas day and I did enjoy the pedestrian friendly area that we worked in. It was one of the perks of living in the city.
“I think I’m going to go get my nails done this week, wanna come with?” Whitney asked, walking at my side.
“Sure, that sounds like fun. Count me in.”
“Yum, I can already smell that pizza. How lucky are we that we are only two blocks away from it?” she asked.
“Yeah, but my thighs don’t think so,” I said.
“Pizza is worth the calories,” she replied with a laugh.
We walked into the small sidewal
k pizza joint where a small line had formed already. The place had a few tables inside and out, but it wasn’t a full on restaurant, it was more of an indoor pizza stand.
“Three slices of basil and tomato, please,” Whitney requested. “And an iced tea.”
“I’ll have two cheese slices and an iced tea,” I said.
Moments later we stood outside around a table that was counter height, with no chairs, eating our greasy meal.
“You know, I still think you should go on a date with Mr. Walters.”
“What? Where is that coming from?” I said, shocked that she was bringing it up again.
“Well, I think it would be good for you. Just go on a date and get out there in the dating world a little bit.”
“No, not with him. He is definitely not my type,” I said, taking a bite.
“I know, but he’s safe at least,” she said, giving me a look.
I put my pizza down and sighed. “You’re not going to bring that up again, are you?”
“I have to. You know that’s why you’re not dating. It’s been a year, Lydia. Not all men are like Tom.”
“You’re making me lose my appetite now,” I said, getting annoyed that she would even say my ex-boyfriend’s name. After everything I had been through with him, I just wanted to forget that he ever existed.
“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to ruin your lunch. I’m just saying that Mr. Walters, or a guy like him, is safe. Just to help you get back out there and get your feet wet. Someone like that isn’t going to be like Tom, and that’s what you need in order to start dating again.”
I sighed. “I really don’t want to hear it, Whitney.”
“Sorry, but you have to. But now that I’ve said what I needed to say, I’ll stop. Just think about it at least,” she said.
“I’ll think about dating again, but not with Mr. Walters,” I said.
“Good enough for me.”
“Can I eat now?”
“Yes, you may. And slow down, I still have two more slices to get through,” she laughed.
Shaking my head, I wanted to point out that she was behind because she wouldn’t shut up. But, I knew she’d done it from a good place and that she was right. I knew that the reason I hadn’t dated was because of my experience with Tom, but I didn’t want to think about it. I got away from that relationship just in time, but it still haunted me. Deep down I was afraid that I would get close to a man again, only for him to show me his true colors months later. With Tom, those colors were black and blue.
When we got back to the office, I tore up the business card Mr. Walters had left and threw it in the trash. I wasn’t going to go on a date with a man I found repulsive just to get over my past. I was stronger than that.
5
Connor Dawson
“My head is pounding like I have a sledgehammer in there,” Dylan said, coming out to the pens.
“Well yeah, that’s what happens when you stay out late and drink yourself stupid,” I said, looking at him as I nudged a goat from one pen into another.
“I wasn’t that drunk,” he said, putting his hand on his head.
“I found you on the porch in the middle of the night, Dylan. I had to walk you up to your bed.”
“What? Really?” He laughed.
“It ain’t funny, man. You’re really lucky that Father didn’t find you there this morning. Lucky for you I was up.”
“Well, thank you. What were you doing up in the middle of the night, anyway?” he asked.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said, walking from the goat pens to the sheep.
“Again? I hear you pacing around your room all the time lately. Why is that? Usually you sleep like a log.”
“Yeah, I probably just need to start jogging again and get myself all tired before bed.”
“Sure that’s all it is?” He arched a brow.
“Yes, now help me with this. Keep this gate open while I push the flock through,” I said.
“Alright, alright,” Dylan said, doing what I asked. I stepped into the pen with the flock of sheep and started clapping my hands. “Whoop! Get along now! Whoop!”
They ran toward the gate from one pen into another. Once the last sheep was through, Dylan closed and locked the gate.
“You know, I was your age once and I was always raising hell, too. I get it. But keep it to the weekends, will ya? Not on a Tuesday night like last night. Father really wants you to start understanding the books and it’s a waste for me to teach you while you’re hung over. You won’t retain anything.”
“Yeah, I know. Father won’t put up with me getting shit-faced on a weeknight,” Dylan said with a sigh.
“Or brawling at the dance hall,” I added.
“Hey, Willie asked for it that night. He just kept at it, going on and on,” Dylan said.
“But you didn’t have to punch him,” I said.
“He punched me first!”
“Yeah, I know. I was there, remember?”
“And you joined in, so don’t be lecturing me about fighting.”
“It needs to stop. We already have a reputation in town.”
“You think Father knows about that little brawl the other night?”
“No, I don’t think so. The Sheriff hasn’t showed up either, so let’s hope it stays that way. I think Willie was too drunk to remember anything anyway.”
“That’s a relief.”
“No. It’s lucky, and we can’t try our luck no more. Now, I’m sorry that you are the youngest and all because your older brothers really messed it up for you. Wyatt, Tanner, and I were always getting into fights, so now people expect it from us and won’t put up with it. You’ve inherited that reputation by default. That’s why I’m telling you no more fights. Just cool it from now on. The days when people looked the other way thinking ‘boys will be boys’ are over. We’ve used up all our ‘get away with shit’ cards. Now, if you get into trouble, it’s gonna be for real,” I said, pointing a finger at him.
“Alright Father,” he said, with a sarcastic tone.
“Shit, just be glad it’s me, Dylan. Father would be much harder on you if he knew what you’d been up to,” I said.
“What’s he been up to?” Abi asked, coming over.
“The usual—being an idiot,” I said.
“Of course,” she said. “What’s new? You almost done out here?” she asked me.
“Nope, not even close.”
“We haven’t even sat down and talked about redoing the house yet. How can I get started if I don’t know the budget?”
I sighed. “Alright, I’ll get to it this week.”
“We’ll need to go into the city. There ain’t no interior designers in Safety, Texas.”
“The city! What? We ain’t gotta do that. You know how much time that’s gonna take, Abi? I got a lot to do around here.”
“It’s barely over half an hour, so it’s not that far. And it’s our only choice anyway,” she said.
“That’s three hours out of a workday. Do you see any spare time in my day, given my responsibilities around here? I can’t afford that.”
Abi huffed and gave a groan, stomping off.
“You don’t have to be so hard on her,” Dylan said.
“I’m not trying to. I’m just being honest.”
“Well, I have a hunch this may have more to do with her wanting to spend more time with you. So it’s not just that she’s thinking about giving the house a makeover. It’s having a project that you two can do together. Remember, our little sister doesn’t have another sister. The rest of us are always fooling around, rough housing, or hanging out doing guy stuff together. She doesn’t have that. She just wants to be included,” Dylan said.
I looked at him completely confused and wondering where these wise words were coming from. This was not the insight of a twenty-three year old. But he made perfect sense, and it dawned on me that Dylan was right.
“Dang it,” I sighed. “You’re right. I’ll tell her to set up an ap
pointment in the city and we’ll go, just the two of us.”
“Nice,” he smiled. “You gonna pick out some flowery curtains? Lace maybe?” he asked, unable to resist the temptation to needle me.
“Shut up or I’m going to add even more work to your list,” I replied, giving it back.
“No thanks,” he said.
“Well, finish up with these sheep. I gotta go find Abi.” Quickly, I walked away from the pens and headed into the stables. I needed to make this right with Abi.
Barging into the stables, I called out. “Abi?” There was no answer, which was strange since she was usually in there.
Heading back to the house, I was worried, thinking she must really be upset. I walked into the living room to find her sitting on the couch looking around the room.
“What are you doing in here?”
“Just looking around, trying to decide what to change and how to get it done since you’re not going to help me,” she said, crossing her arms.
“I’m sorry about what I said before. I wasn’t being fair. Go ahead and set up an appointment for us in the city with some fancy designer and I’ll drive us there.”
“Really?!” She jumped up.
“Really.”
“Yes!” She exclaimed and gave me a hug. It reminded me of when she was a little girl, always rewarding her brothers with hugs when we let her have extra ice cream.
I smiled. “Get to it.”
“I’m going to go look on my laptop and call around right now!”
“Okay. I’ll go work on a budget for us. I’ll be in the library.”
“Yes!” She whooped as she ran up the stairs to her room.
Just then our father came out of the hallway. He nodded to me and I realized he had been eavesdropping. He approved without a single word, then walked into his office and shut the door. It felt good to have his approval. A son always wanted to make his father proud.
6
Lydia Myers
“Gosh, it’s sure been a slow week, hasn’t it,” Whitney said, sitting in the chair next to me.
