by K. C. Crowne
“One second, Bianca,” I said, holding the phone off to the side to deal with Jacklyn.
She continued. “I think you should listen to your brother. Listen to Milo.”
“I think you should try to talk some sense into him, Jacklyn. I thought you were smart enough to see what a good deal this is,” I said. “But apparently you're too in love with him to even look at the logical, rational facts.”
“I'm not –”
She started to argue, but quickly dropped the lie. We both knew the truth. Anyone who knew the two of them knew she loved him, and in his own way, he loved her too.
“You two are perfect for each other,” I muttered. “If only he could admit he loved you, you two could live happily ever after on the ranch, closing the rest of us out. Just like Dad always wanted.”
“Eli, please –”
“No, Jacklyn, you listen to me,” I said. “Unless you can convince Milo to sign the papers, we're done here. Got it?”
“I'm not going to do that,” she said.
“Fine. Then we're done,” I said.
I turned around and went back to my call, unlocking my car door and sliding inside. I slammed the door and locked it, blocking Jacklyn out in the process. Maybe I'd been a bit harsh, but it was true. Jacklyn was too far up Milo's ass to see the facts, and Milo was too much like Dad to care.
Both of them were naïve, and dare I say it, selfish. They seemed to think I was the selfish one, when all I wanted was a piece of our family's legacy. Mom wouldn't have wanted things to end like this, but Dad was the one who had control over everything after she'd died. And there wasn't a goddamn thing any of us could do about it now.
“Who was that?” Bianca asked.
“Jacklyn,” I muttered, then elaborated. “The one you met this morning.”
“Yes, she's a little spitfire,” Bianca said. “And she's close to your brother?”
“Yeah, very close,” I said.
“Could she convince him to sell?”
“She might be able to change his mind, but she agrees with him,” I said. “She wants to keep the ranch too.”
“I see,” Bianca said. “But Milo – he values her opinion?”
I laughed. “Hell yeah,” I said. “Probably more than anyone else's; including the opinions of his own brothers.”
She fell quiet for a second and I thought maybe I'd dropped the call. But then she surprised me when she spoke.
“I'm going to extend the offer deadline,” she said. “I have a few ideas that might just get him to sign.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “But I have to go. We'll talk soon.”
She hung up the phone abruptly, and the line went dead in my hand. I stared at it for a long time, trying to figure out what ideas she had that I hadn't had yet. If she thought she could get Jacklyn to change her mind, then convince her to try and change Milo's mind, well she had another thing coming. I was coming to see that Jacklyn and my oldest brother were two peas in a very stubborn pod.
* * *
I wasn't even on the freeway that led me back towards Hollywood when my phone rang again. I checked the caller ID and was surprised to see it was Jacklyn. I almost didn't answer, but then I remembered what Bianca had said about having a plan – one that maybe included Jacklyn in some way.
Could she have worked her magic already? I doubted it, but anything was possible. Bianca could be very persuasive when she had to be.
I answered the phone. “Yes?” I said.
“Eli, it's Jacklyn,” she said. “Do you think you can come over to the ranch?”
“Is everything okay?” I asked, my pulse racing for a moment.
When my dad was sick, every phone call from Milo had caused that same spike in blood pressure in me and I found myself fearing the worst. Everything about that damned ranch brought me nothing but anxiety and misery. “Yeah, everything is fine. I just wanted to show you something,” she said.
“What do you want to show me?” I asked, growing impatient. Nothing she was going to say or do was going to convince me not to sell.
“Just – can you just trust me and give me a little time, please?” she asked.
I wanted to tell her it was too late and that I was already on my way home. I had no desire to turn around and head back to the ranch, or to deal with any of it anymore, quite frankly. I had to figure something else out. Obviously bartending and taking bit parts here and there wasn't going to pay the bills, and since Milo wasn't selling, I needed to find something that would.
But something in her voice made me reconsider. There was something in her tone that made me want to go to her, to see what she wanted me to see. Having no idea what it might be, I decided to hope for the best. Maybe Bianca had gotten to her. Maybe she hadn't. But there was still time and keeping Jacklyn on my side seemed like a good idea. Maybe if I kept working on her, I'd be able to get through to her eventually.
“Fine,” I muttered, “I'll be there in a few minutes.”
“Great,” she said, sounding happier than I'd heard her in the past few days. “See you in a bit.”
We hung up, and I had to admit, I was smiling. Her personality was infectious. She was a sweet girl, and one that was hard to say no to. I could see why Milo – and apparently Sawyer – liked having her around. She could be very persuasive without even meaning to be. That was all part of her charm.
I turned my car around and drove back toward the ranch. The sun was already going down at that point, and the air was crisp and cool. I had the windows down and breathed in the fresh air as I drove down the formerly tree-lined road that led to Bucknell Ranch.
The road served only one purpose – it was the way in and out of the ranch. There were no other homes, no businesses, nothing, and there were no cars on the road besides my own. It was peaceful, and the sky was as clear as it could get there in Southern California, especially being as close to a city as large as San Diego.
I saw the appeal in the property. Not just for Milo, but for developers too. They could build some nice homes out there. Nothing too dense with plenty of land to run around. Clear skies. Trees as far as the eyes could see. It had a certain appeal to it, that was for certain. If I had the money, I would have bought a home out there.
Too bad the ranch didn't feel like home, or I might reconsider my life's choices and move in with Milo and Sawyer. After all, there was still plenty of room in the old house.
Plenty of memories too.
Few of them good.
I parked my car in front of the house. In the distance, I saw a bonfire. Mom and Dad used to have bonfires now and then, and I caught myself smiling as I remembered Mom teaching me how to cook a marshmallow over the flame without letting it fall off the skewer. Maybe there were a few good memories, I thought.
My smile wavered though, as I considered the possibility that this was all some sort of a trick. Maybe that was what they wanted to do – remind me of the good times so I'd stop pressuring them to sell the place. It was basically the reverse of what I'd hoped to accomplish by giving Milo the letters.
But I could be pretty damn stubborn too. Milo didn't have the market cornered on stubborn. Not to mention the fact that the bad memories still far outweighed the good for me. And the ability to pay my bills outweighed any sentimentality I had for the place.
I climbed out of my car and Jacklyn came down the front steps of the house. She was carrying a number of things in her hands – everything we needed to make s’mores. I groaned, believing I was right after all – she was trying to stir up some sort of nostalgia in me.
“You wanted to talk to me?” I said, remaining standing by my car, hoping she'd take the hint that I wasn't staying.
“Yes, I wanted to invite you to hang out with us,” she said, a smile pulling at her lips. “Milo refuses to join us, but Sawyer and I have a bonfire going already, some drinks and some s'mores –”
“I see what you're doing here,” I said.
She c
ocked her head to the side, her face blank. “What do you mean?”
“You're trying to emotionally manipulate me into backing off my position to sell the place.”
“Uh, no. This was Sawyer's idea, not mine,” I said. “And as far as I know, he's on your side in this whole deal.”
“Sure,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “Thanks for the invite, but I think I'm going to have to pass.”
“Eli, please,” she begged. “Do it for Sawyer? You know he's feeling pretty down about things too. This would be good for him.”
I still wasn't sure whether this was some sort of trap or not, but she had me there. My brother hadn't been the same in a long time. His injury, the death of our dad – all of it had thrown him off kilter. He'd been taking the loss of his football career fairly hard, and I'd been too busy with my own failing career to be there for him. Milo had been, or so I thought, but seeing how Milo was stuck in his own perpetual state of misery these days, I was beginning to have my doubts.
“Fine, but I can't stay too late. Heading back to L.A. tonight,” I muttered.
“Whatever you need to do, Eli,” she said, bounding back toward the fire.
There was a pep in her step, and my gaze fell on her ass without meaning for it to. She was in a tight pair of jeans and a top that barely covered her midriff. I got a nice view of an ass that was surprisingly nice as I followed her to the bonfire.
8
Jacklyn
Sawyer seemed surprised when his brother walked up and sat down beside him. He'd told me that Eli wouldn't come, but I called anyway. I cared about Sawyer, and even though Eli and I weren't as close, I cared about him too. They were all Bucknells, which made them family to me.
They'd all experienced something pretty traumatic, and I found myself wanting to bring everyone together. I found myself wanting to heal the divides that existed between all of them. It was a tall order, but I could be a stubborn and determined girl when I needed to be.
I glanced back at the house and saw that the light in Milo's study was still on. It was just another night of him and his drinking. My heart sank as I imagined Milo sitting inside, drowning his sorrows in whiskey. I'd invited him out but knew he wouldn't come. It had been so long since Milo had done anything that could be called fun I was afraid he might not recognize it again if it walked up and slapped him across the face. He was all work, all the time. Work and misery. He had very little room for anything else.
“Can't believe you got him to join us,” Sawyer said, grinning as he pulled his brother into a tight embrace.
“Yeah, well, I was tricked into it,” Eli said, laughing.
“I didn't trick you,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Eli grabbed a beer from the cooler and sat down in one of the chairs around the fire. Popping the cap, he stared into the flames and I couldn't take my eyes off him. Had you told my teenage self that I would be hanging out with Eli Bucknell – teen dream back in the day – I wouldn't have believed you. I probably would have called you nuts.
At thirty, might have been a little older than me, and no longer a teen heartthrob, but he was still just as beautiful to look at. His chiseled features, dark eyes surrounded by thick lashes that would make any woman envious, made it hard to believe he wasn't able to find work as an adult. He reminded me of a young Brad Pitt – almost too painfully beautiful to be real.
Yet, there he was, and I couldn't stop staring. At least, not until he caught me gawking at him. He looked over at me and raised his eyebrows. I quickly looked away and took a sip from my beer, focusing my attention on the fire in front of us.
Sawyer was on my right, Eli on my left. Two of the best-looking men I'd ever laid eyes on. I was fond of both of them, but my heart was still with Milo – even though I knew that he didn't look at me that same way.
I took another drink, a bigger one this time, wanting to drown out all thoughts of Milo, at least for the night. I had to move on from him, get my feelings in check. Sleeping with Sawyer had been nice – very nice, in fact – but he'd made it clear we'd never be anything serious.
I looked over at Eli and at the stone-cold expression on his face. He always looked serious when he was around us these days. There was so much going on in his life that I was unaware about, though I had an idea that he was struggling more than he was letting on. It was clear why he wanted to sell the place. Not because of greed, but because of necessity. Or maybe I was giving the middle Bucknell brother too much credit. Sometimes, my desire to give people the benefit of the doubt backfired, and I hoped – mostly for Milo and Sawyer's sake – that it wasn't the case this time.
Sawyer chuckled to himself, and both Eli and I looked over at him.
“Eli, remember that time Dad got smashed and decided to ride Walt?”
Eli nodded, then laughed along with him. I had no idea what they were talking about, but I was happy to see them enjoying themselves.
“Yeah, he fell off as fast as he climbed on,” Eli said, taking a swig from his beer.
Eli, realizing I was probably lost, looked over at me and explained for my benefit.
“Walt was a stallion, wild as hell,” he said. “They said no one could ride him. I mean, they were right, but Dad sure as hell tried anyway.”
“Oh no,” I said, stifling my own giggles. “Was he hurt?”
“Think he sprained his wrist, if I remember correctly,” Sawyer said. “It was actually good that he was drunk, the doctors said. Had he been sober, he might have tensed up and broken a few bones. But he just flopped down to the ground like a dead fish while the three of us stood there and laughed.”
“Got our asses handed to us later for laughing though,” Eli muttered, no longer laughing.
“Nah, it wasn't that bad,” Sawyer said, waving him off. “Dad was just pissed at himself.”
I kept my gaze fixed on Eli, wondering if there was more to the story that he wasn't saying.
“What did he do?” I asked. “Your dad, I mean?”
Eli shrugged and drank some more, staring out into the distance. It was Sawyer who answered.
“He lectured us about how it wasn't funny to laugh at people when they're in trouble and could be seriously hurt.”
“Sounds reasonable enough,” I said.
“Yeah, except it was his own damn fault for getting drunk as fuck in the first place,” Eli said. “Maybe if he put the bottle down now and then, he wouldn't have done so much stupid shit and put him – and us – in so many bad positions.”
As he said it, Eli put his own beer on the ground next to him.
“But then we wouldn't have so many funny stories about him,” Sawyer said.
“Funny? Or embarrassing?” Eli asked.
“Listen, just because Dad wasn't perfect doesn't mean –”
Eli scoffed. His eyes were filled with so much pain that it hurt me to look at him. As much as I wanted to agree with Sawyer because everything sounded reasonable, the look on Eli's face told me there was quite a bit more to the story than he was sharing. Something cut Eli deeply, hurt him more than it did his brothers.
“Keep praising the man, Sawyer,” he said. “Just because he's dead doesn't make him an angel though.”
“Fuck this,” Sawyer said. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
He stood up and towered over the two of us now. He swayed on his feet just a bit, as if maybe he'd had a little too much to drink himself. “I'm tired of your bullshit, Eli. You want the money for the property, I get that, but you don't have to tear down the memory of our father every chance you get,” he said. “He wasn't nearly as bad as you make him out to be.”
“Or maybe he wasn't as good as you make him out to be,” Eli countered.
He stood up, and the two brothers were suddenly standing there face-to-face, the air between them crackling with tension and the whispered threat of violence. They were just about the same height, and while Sawyer was bulkier, Eli was sturdy as well. If they were to fight, I knew it wouldn't be pretty.<
br />
I pushed my way in between them, squeezing between their muscular frames and feeling a bit intimidated by the sheer size of them. They stopped glaring at each other and backed up to give me some room.
I was facing Sawyer, so I spoke to him first. “Please, stop. You're drunk. Anything you say or do tonight, you'll regret in the morning.”
Sawyer's face softened a bit as he stared down into my eyes. His light brown eyes looked gentler and kinder, and I knew I'd gotten through to him.
At least for a second.
“Yes, go to bed, Sawyer,” Eli said. “Before you say something you'll regret.”
I cringed. Sawyer's face clenched up as he shifted his focus back to his brother. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, I interceded.
“Stop it, you two,” I said, firmly. “Right now.”
I placed my hands on Sawyer's chest to try to ground him in reality. It worked. He looked back down at me. I spoke softly, my message intended only for him.
“Your brother is clearly hurting, and you're only hurting him further,” I said softly. “Do you really want to do that?”
There was a moment of silence as my words resonated with Sawyer. Slowly, he shook his head.
“He's hurting?” Sawyer muttered. “We're all hurting, Jacklyn. He doesn't have a right to be an asshole just because Dad was hard on him when he was a kid.”
“You know what, fuck it, I'm done,” Eli said, tossing his hands into the air.
With a growl and a few muttered curses, he turned to walk away, but for some reason, I grabbed his arm. I'm not sure why I felt the need to play peacekeeper there, but I felt compelled. Maybe because I'd already witnessed Milo falling down into a pit of despair and I didn't want the rest of the family to follow along. I didn’t want to see the night end with regrets.
It was supposed to be a night of bonding and connecting. It was intended to help Sawyer relive some good memories of a time before his dreams had been dashed and the brothers were barely on speaking terms. It was not going to end like this. Not if I had anything to say about it.
