Chapter Twenty-Three
“Cary?”
“Yeah?” He looked up from pounding nails in a small shed for Abby’s goats. “What’s up?”
Abby popped her head up from behind the box she was cleaning. “Want to hear a goat joke I just thought up?”
He smiled. “Yeah.”
“So there was a mama goat and she went home, and the dad goat was giving their three baby goats a bath.”
Cary smiled. “Uh-huh.”
“And the mama goat says to the dad goat, ‘Hey, you’ll never guess what happened. I went to the vet and I found out that I’m gonna have three more babies. Surprise!’ And the dad goat is really shocked and says, ‘Wait, how can that be possible? You just had these goat babies.’ And the mama goat says, ‘Don’t worry. I was just kidding.’” Abby burst into laughter. “Get it? Because a mama goat having a baby is called kidding!”
Cary hung his head and laughed along with her, as much from her laughter as the joke. “That was pretty funny.”
“Princess.” Abby danced in front of her goat. “Do you get it? You were just kidding!” Abby continued to crack herself up.
It was Saturday morning and Cary had the morning off. Melissa, Emmie, and Joan were cleaning and painting furniture for the bunkhouse, so Cary was hanging with Abby and helping her fix her pens.
“Hey, kid.”
“Yes, adult?”
“How often have you fixed these pens?”
Abby stood and cocked her head. “Uh… maybe three times this year I think.”
“Have you ever thought about investing in stronger fencing? Something with more metal?”
She chewed on her lower lip. “How much would that cost?”
“I don’t know. Want me to find out?”
“Yeah, that would be cool. Thanks.”
Looks like the goat queen is getting fencing for Christmas. Cary could think of worse presents.
A floppy-eared brown goat with yellow eyes was staring at him, a piece of grass hanging out of his mouth. “Hey, dude.”
“That’s Mr. Tumnus!”
“Ah.” Cary nodded. “The devourer of roses.”
Mr. Tumnus let out a bleat that sounded an awful lot like a laugh.
Cary picked up another screw and stared Mr. Tumnus right in his weird yellow eyes as he took the electric drill and screwed it into the new corner post. “See this? You’re not gonna be able to knock this one down. We’re on to you.”
Mr. Tumnus bleated again.
“That’s concrete at the base of that post. Two feet of it.”
The goat snorted and moved to the tire tower Abby had built in the middle of the pen. With Cary’s help last summer, she’d filled old tractor tires with dirt and stacked them together to make a kind of obstacle course for the goats. It seemed to be working. With all the toys and all the places to climb, the escape artists were getting out less.
“Hey, Cary?”
“What’s up, buttercup?”
“You knew my dad, right?”
“Yes, I did.” He smiled. “Did you have a question? Want to hear a funny story?”
She was staring intently into Princess’s stall. “What do you think my dad would want me to do about Grandma and Grandpa Rhodes?”
Cary let out a long breath and sat back on his heels. He stood and walked into the shed where Abby was cleaning out Princess’s stall. Mama and baby were in the small corral and the baby was nursing.
Abby leaned on the top of the stall and stared at him.
Cary brought an old stool over and sat across from her. “What’s going on?”
“Okay, so you can’t tell Mom.”
He shook his head. “I can’t guarantee that, Abby.”
She huffed out a breath. “I heard Grandma and Mom talking about a letter from a lawyer and I could tell it was important and it had something to do with the ranch, so I went looking in Mom’s desk—”
“Abby!”
“I know! I shouldn’t have. But I did and I found the letter from my grandpa’s lawyer.” She blinked back tears. “Why would he do something like that, Cary? I don’t understand.” She took a deep breath, trying to control her tears. “It’s my ranch too.”
“Come here.” Cary held out his arms, and Abby came to him. He wrapped the little girl up and she hugged him tight. “First of all, I don’t want you to worry about having to leave the ranch. Your mom has it figured out. You’re not going to lose the ranch, okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Do you believe me?”
“Yeah.” She sniffed. “I know Grandpa doesn’t like Mom sometimes and he thinks she’s too proud—”
“Ignore him. Your mother is exactly the right amount of proud.” He kissed her head. “And you are too. You’re both proud of your accomplishments. You know what accomplishments are?”
“Things you… accomplish?”
“Yeah, things you do. Like planting mandarin groves or raising goats. Or getting good grades in school or helping your friends.”
Abby nodded. “I have a lot of accomplishments.”
Cary smiled. “You do. Especially for only being ten. Being proud of your accomplishments is good. You should be proud of them. Being proud of other things is stupid.”
“Other things like what?”
Cary frowned. “I’d say anything you’re born with that’s just chance? Don’t be proud of that. I mean, you should always like who you are, right? But don’t think you’re better than anyone else because of it, because that’s just luck. You get me?”
“Like having straight teeth or curly hair?” Abby sighed. “I wish I had curly hair like Marta.”
“And I bet Marta’s curly hair is really pretty, but is that something you should be proud of? You’re born with whatever hair you have, right? I mean, is it the most important thing about her?”
“No. She is a really good singer. And dancer.” Abby sighed. “She really carried our group at the talent show.”
Cary muffled a smile. “See? Way more important. Those are accomplishments she should be proud of.”
“Are Grandma and Grandpa proud of the wrong things?”
Cary shrugged. “What do you think?”
“I think… they think they’re better than Mom and Grandma Joan.”
“Do you think they’re right?”
She frowned. “No!”
“Why do you think they want the ranch?”
“If I can’t live here with Mom and Grandma, I’d have to live at our house there.” She rested her chin on Cary’s shoulder. “They want me to live at their ranch. And go to school with my little cousins. And ride English instead of Western.”
“And what do you want to do?”
“I like riding English and Western. I think it’s good to learn both.”
“Agreed. That way if you go to England, you’ll be able to talk to the horses.”
Abby giggled, then she put on her serious face. “People and horses in England speak English, Cary. Everyone knows that.”
“Yeah? I’ve heard the accent is way different though.”
Abby grinned and threw her arms around him. “I love you, adult.”
“Love you too, kid.” He rubbed her back. “And you know how you were asking about what your dad would do about your grandma and grandpa Rhodes?”
“Yeah. What do you think?”
Cary thought hard. He didn’t want to overstep, but he’d also been Calvin’s friend, and he knew exactly what the man had thought of his parents. He tried to imagine what Calvin would say. What he’d do. How he’d counsel his ten-year-old daughter coming face-to-face with the fact that part of her family really weren’t very good people.
“You know”—he patted her shoulder—“I think I have an idea.”
After scheming with Abby, Cary gathered his tools and walked over to the bunkhouse, curious if Melissa needed help with anything. He walked up the new gravel path, which was wide enough for a car, that ran along the north side of th
e main house. The truck had come to spread the gravel a few days before. It was still dusty, but it would look great when the rains came.
“Missy?”
“Inside!”
He took his shoes off on the porch and set his toolbox down, walking in to the newly refinished bunkhouse that still smelled like wood oil, varnish, and paint.
“Wow.” He looked around, turning in place. When he got to the corner, he saw Melissa, lounging on the repainted four-poster queen bed that had been placed in the corner. “That looks great there.”
“Doesn’t it? The blue is perfect, right?”
He nodded and looked around the room. “Blues, greens, and grays inside.”
She nodded. “Color of the mountains. With the red accents…”
He perched on a wooden chair in the small dining area. “It’s like visiting the sequoias. Green, red, and blue skies.”
“Do you have some pictures I could buy for the walls?”
Cary frowned. “I have some pictures you can have.”
“You sell your work because it’s good. I’m not going to—”
“Melissa, don’t try to give me money for pictures. That’s ridiculous.” He pointed to the long wall next to the old iron stove. “You know what would go great there?”
“What?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “That portrait of you from branding day.”
She covered her face. “No.”
“It would though.”
She shook her head. “Not a chance. Do you still have that?”
He scoffed. “Of course I still have it.”
“Did you get any offers for it?”
He smiled slowly. “Yes.”
She was dying to ask. He could tell.
“I wasn’t going to sell that one. Ever. It didn’t even have a price listed.”
“Why not?” Her cheeks were red.
He walked over, braced himself on the bed frame, careful that his dirty hands didn’t touch the clean white sheets, and leaned down to kiss her.
“It’s not for sale because you’re mine,” he whispered.
The smile spread slowly and surely across her face. “And you’re mine.”
He kissed her, over and over again, only drawing back when he heard voices coming up the path. “We have company.”
“Did you and Abby get the goat pens fixed?”
He nodded. “We did. Mr. Tumnus has been foiled again.”
“That damn goat.” She shook her head.
“Hey, Melissa.”
“Hey, Cary.”
“Did you know that goats can see up to three hundred and forty degrees in the periphery with their weird demon eyes?”
“Noooo.” She put a hand over her face and laughed. “Don’t tell me there are two of you now.”
“Goats are fascinating creatures.”
She reached for his hand, and he lifted her off the bed just as Emmie, Ox, Abby, Leigh, and Joan came in the bunkhouse.
“…think it’s a great idea,” Joan said.
“It’ll be so beautiful in the spring with the wildflowers,” Leigh said. “I could do the cooking for you.”
Joan was beaming. “Melissa, you’ll never guess what.”
Melissa said, “Ox and Emmie want to get married at the ranch.”
“Yes! How did you know?”
“Crazy, wild guess when you’re walking around with a glowing engaged woman and talking about wildflowers and catering.”
Emmie laughed. “We love it here, and it’s the family place.” She took Ox’s hand. “It feels right.”
Ox said, “I am one hundred percent on board with this as long as there are no cows in the pictures.”
Melissa scowled. “Why the hate?”
“But you want goats, right?” Abby was bouncing up and down. “Goats make the perfect wedding guests! We can tie the ring on Princess’s back and have Lala carry a basket of flowers and—”
“Wouldn’t Mr. Hummus eat the flower bouquets?” Ox said.
“His name is not Mr. Hummus!”
Cary leaned against the wall. “Now I’m hungry.”
“This place is gorgeous now,” Emmie said. “You could easily host weddings here. There’s lots of parking in the pasture. There’re beautiful trees and the creek.” She motioned around the bunkhouse. “You even have a honeymoon cabin.”
Melissa said, “We’d need to build some kind of deck or pavilion if we want to host any events that aren’t family, and I’m tapped out since we finished this. I’m all on board for a simple wedding here at the ranch for you guys, but if you want something bigger, then you’re going to have to wait for a while.”
As everyone chatted happily about Ox and Emmie’s wedding, Cary was overwhelmed by that familiar burning in his chest.
Jealousy.
He was happy with Melissa. So fucking happy. They were getting closer every day, but he had to wonder if it took him four years to convince her to be his girlfriend, how long would it take her to say yes to being his wife?
Because he definitely wanted to marry her. Maybe even add another kid if it was in the cards. Ten years ago, the thought of getting married again would have caused him to flee. Now it was all he could think of. He wanted to get married. He wanted to be Abby’s stepdad. He wanted Melissa to have another baby.
Did men have biological clocks, because seriously, what the fuck?
He couldn’t rush her. If he rushed her, she’d just dig in her heels.
And Melissa was giving him another odd look.
Snap out of it. Cary said, “Ox, if you want to work on a deck with me, we can probably build something ourselves. I’ve built decks before. It can’t be that different.”
Ox nodded. “That’s an idea. Would definitely save some money if we did it ourselves.”
Melissa said, “Free labor for me? Cool. I’ll take it.”
Cary said, “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll figure out some kind of payment structure for you.”
Ox laughed, and Emmie stepped on his toe.
Abby said, “What’s a payment structure?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hours after Ox and Emmie had gone home, Melissa sat with her feet kicked up on the front porch of the bunkhouse, watching the sun set over the valley as hawks cried overhead, searching the meadow for one last meal before the light disappeared.
Cary had left in the early afternoon to meet Jeremy at Halsey Rock. Stu, Leigh, Rumi, and Joan had driven into Metlin to see a movie they were excited about.
And Abby was stuck in a new book, engrossed in dragon-riding adventures with her goats.
She heard Cary’s quad before she saw it. He drove down the trail along Halsey Creek, crossing the stream with a quiet splash before he came up the bank and into her view.
His silver and black hair flew back as the wind whipped it. He was wearing climbing pants and a thin tank top, a bandana around his neck and sunglasses shielding his eyes. His arms were braced wide on the handlebars, and his skin glowed golden in the waning sunlight.
God bless mountain climbing muscles; I get to have sex with that man.
There were lots of other amazing things about Cary Nakamura, but seriously, that couldn’t be understated. She got to see that man naked basically whenever she wanted, and he ordered her around in a bone-melting voice when they were having sex.
It was… very nice. Very, very nice.
He smiled when he approached the bunkhouse. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She swung a beer by the neck. “You want one?”
“I’ll have a taste.” He crooked his finger at her and shut the bike off. “Come here.”
Melissa glanced around, but Abby was in her room reading. She walked to the quad, putting a little extra sway in her hips because she had just remembered that she got to have sex with that man.
Which was very nice.
She walked beside him and threw her leg over his lap, straddling him face-to-face. She slid over and hugged his thighs with her legs. “Hey.”
He grabbed her beer. “Hey.” He took a drink with one hand and slid his other hand down her back and onto her ass. “How’s my girlfriend today?”
“Feeling a little…” She leaned toward his lips. “Lonely.”
“Are you?” He reached over and set the beer down. “We can’t have that.”
He took her lips in a long kiss. His mouth tasted like green tea and honey. His skin smelled like sweat with a hint of sweetness. She reached back and ran her fingers through his hair, careful to work out the tangles from the wind.
“I knew it!” Abby’s voice rang through the air.
Melissa froze.
Cary froze. Then he immediately removed his hands from Melissa’s ass. They both turned to see a triumphant ten-year-old marching toward them, pointing an accusing finger.
“I knew you guys were in love!” Her face was beaming. “I bet you thought I didn’t notice!”
“Uh… hey.” Melissa’s heart was racing. “Hi. Um, what…”
Nothing. She had nothing.
Cary narrowed his eyes. “Hey, kid.”
She crossed her arms and watched them with a smug smile. “Hey, adult.”
“How long have you known?”
Abby rolled her eyes. “Only like… a year now.”
Cary snorted. “Oh, look at that! She knew before you did, Missy.”
“Will you be quiet?” she muttered. Melissa awkwardly climbed off Cary’s lap, which was not as easy as climbing onto it. Not even a little bit. “So… Uh, Abby, what do you mean that you knew we were in love?”
The eye roll was epic. “Oh come on, Mom. It was so obvious.”
He wasn’t laughing out loud, but Cary’s shoulders were shaking.
“What?” She put her hands on her hips. “I don’t know what you mean. What was so obvious?”
Abby waved her hand. “Whatever.” She bounced over to Cary. “So, Cary.”
“Yes?”
“Since you’re my mom’s boyfriend, will you teach me how to mountain climb?”
“Yes.”
“No!” Melissa was furiously shaking her head. “She’s already jumping giant horses. Give me a break.”
Cary glanced at Melissa. “When your mom says it’s okay, I’ll start teaching you the basics.”
Grit: A Love Story on 7th and Main Page 22
