Wannabe in Wyoming (Antelope Rock Book 1)

by J. B. Havens

  Knowing they weren’t really talking about the cat, he decided to play along anyway. “I’ll be sad too. I’ll miss her like crazy. But I hope she’s not too sad. She knows I’m going to be back just as soon as I can manage it.”

  “Really?” Willow looked up at him, her eyes so big and wide—full of hope.

  “Of course, baby. I wanna be in Wyoming. It’s where my girls are.” He winked at her. “And Fred too—can’t forget about him.”

  Shifting over and shooing away Ethel, who gave her an indignant glare, Willow straddled Nathan’s lap, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and sighed. “Good, because we want you here too.”

  Returning her embrace, he buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply. He wished he could put her in his pocket, take her with him, and keep her beside him always. It should’ve been too soon to be feeling so strongly, but there was no stopping the freight train of emotions barreling through him. This woman was it for him. He knew it to the depths of his soul. He just needed to find the balls to tell her and hope like hell that she felt the same way.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Willow managed to control her tears until she’d driven all the way home and parked her truck in the driveway. As soon as the engine shut off, there was no holding them back. Sobs ripped from her throat, as she rested her head against the steering wheel.

  She felt like her heart was splitting in two––half was here with her and the other half just boarded a plane for Kansas. She knew she’d see him again––hell, he’d promised to Skype that night––but now that she’d had him in her home and in her bed, she wanted him there always.

  She cried until her head was pounding and her face throbbed. Her chest ached, both with physical and emotional pain. If Nathan knew she’d broken down like this, he’d be as devastated for that as she was over him leaving. Her one comfort was knowing their separation was temporary. He wasn’t going overseas again, and as soon as his exit paperwork was finished, he’d be done with the Army. She hadn’t been brave enough to ask him to live here with her, a decision she was regretting now.

  The truck was still running, and the radio began to play “Here Without You” by 3 Doors Down. Screeching in frustration, she smashed the buttons until the song stopped.

  “Now, darlin’, is that really how you should be treating this fine truck?”

  “Ack!” Yelping in surprise, Willow clutched her chest. Jeremiah stood outside her open window with his hat tipped back on his head and his thumbs tucked into the pockets of his Wranglers. He looked like a gay ginger extra from a John Wayne film.

  “Fuck right off! Holy shit you scared me!”

  He snorted. “I’m not surprised. You were sitting there with the radio blasting, crying like your dog died. A herd of elephants could be stomping through here with a high school marching band and the naked cast of Magic Mike, and you wouldn’t have noticed a damn thing. And not noticing the strippers would’ve been a sin, by the way, darlin’.” Stepping forward, he rested his forearms on the door, leaning down so he could look her in the eyes. “He went back today.”

  It wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyway. Just thinking about Nathan being gone made her tears well up again.

  “Come on, Willow-girl. What you need is a distraction. And I’ve got just the thing.” Opening the truck door, he didn’t wait for her to climb down. He just grabbed her hand and pulled her from the vehicle and into his arms for a brief hug. “You have horses and those fluffy things arriving soon, and I’m here to help figure out what renovations we need to do to the barns. I even have a notebook.” He pulled a battered, black-and-white composition book from his back pocket. He’d folded it in half to get it into the tight spot, but from the state of the deeply creased cover, that was a regular occurrence.

  “Jesus, what did you do to that poor thing?” She looked at it aghast, offended that he’d treat a book that way, even one that was meant to be written in.

  Glancing down at the book and then back up at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What? I have to fold it, otherwise it won’t fit in my damn pocket. It’s not like I’ve got a free hand to be carrying it around. Book in one pocket, work gloves in the other.” Shrugging, he dismissed the subject and looped his arm through hers. “Come on, rancher woman. We’ve got a barn renovation to plan. Lucky for you, you’ve already got two barns. This would be a bitch if we had to build one too.”

  He drew a laugh from her against her will, and it was then that she realized he’d planned this, knowing she’d be upset after dropping Nathan off at the airport. Walking along with him to the smaller of the two barns, she was grateful to have him in her life and told him so. “I’m so glad I met you. I don’t know where I’d be without you right now. The ranch, everything.” He stopped in his tracks and met her gaze, the apples of his cheeks stained with a deep blush. Rising on her toes, she pecked a kiss on his stubbled cheek. “Thanks.”

  “Now, now, Willow-girl, you know I like boys,” he jested, before getting them moving again.

  Laughing, she bumped his hip with hers. “Make that one boy in particular. You couldn’t keep your eyes off a certain foreman the other day. Even if he did piss you off at the rodeo.”

  She didn’t think it was possible, but his blush deepened further. “You’re seeing things––your lust–addled brain is making you hallucinate.”

  “Sure, I hallucinated you looking at his ass like it was a side of beef and you were craving a steak.” Rolling her eyes, she added, “Just admit it. You’re here to distract me and cheer me up, right? Well, I’ll be distracted by talking about your crush on Dale. I don’t blame you by the way. God was having a good day when he sculpted that man.”

  They’d reached the barn, and he pulled open the pedestrian door, waving for her to enter before him. “Like I told you when we first sorted through everything, all the basics are here. But you’ll need to pour concrete, add stalls, a tack room, better lighting, and radiant heat. You’ll also need a contractor to double-check the roof and supports on the loft. You’ll be storing hay, alfalfa, and grain up there for the horses, and it’s gotta be kept dry—don’t want any mold creepin’ in.”

  “Hmph. You’re changing the subject. Fine, fine, I’ll let it go for now, lover-boy.” Following him as he strolled through the gloomy barn, she took a good look around. When she’d first moved to the ranch, she’d done a walk-though but deemed this building as a future project and not a priority. It’d previously been used for storage, housing tractors, broken farming equipment, and in general, junk. Jeremiah and his ranch hands had cleaned out everything that wouldn’t be of use to her, which had been most of it, and had it hauled away for scrap metal. Now, the building stood empty yet filthy. Cobwebs hung in long swaths from the rafters, and dirt and animal droppings covered the hard-packed floor.

  “If we pour concrete, won’t we need to install drains too?” She kicked the toe of her boot through a clod of dirt, breaking it apart.

  “Sure, but that’s easy enough. You’ll need to hire out the concrete, that’s not something we can do, but my hands and I can add in stalls here, here, and here.” He kept talking and pointing, pausing only to jot down notes in his book. She hadn’t noticed the tape measure on his belt until he pulled it free and told her to hold one end while he began to measure and take even more notes.

  “You’re good at this,” she commented.

  “Sure. It’s a necessary skill. Easier and cheaper to build or repair it yourself on the ranch, instead of hiring people every time you need something done. I’ve been fixing fence and building decks and barns my whole life. This ain’t nothin’.” He waved a hand, encompassing the space around them. “Once the concrete is down, we’ll have this barn ready for horses and feed in two days, tops.”

  “Why aren’t you a carpenter then, if you enjoy it so much?” Willow asked, releasing the end of the tape measure at his nod. She knew he liked to whittle and had a wood-working shop in one of the several barns on his property where he’d m
ake and fix things. Not that he’d ever allowed her, or anyone for that matter, inside it.

  “Well, I never thought about it. I come from a long line of ranchers. It’s in my blood. It’s like . . .” he paused, writing something else down before continuing, “just because you love reading, doesn’t mean you want to be a librarian, right? It’s a hobby––one I enjoy––but ranching is my life. It’s in my soul.”

  She smiled at him, placing her hand over her heart. “You, Jeremiah, secretly have the soul of a poet. Dale is sure going to appreciate that when you’re having pillow talk.”

  His face flamed bright red, and Willow laughed until her stomach hurt. Every time she thought she could get it under control, one look at his admonishing expression had her in hysterics again. Bending double, holding her sides, she roared until tears streamed down her face, and she was sure she was going to pee her pants any second. Gasping for air, she straightened and wiped her tears. “Oh God, Jeremiah, I do adore you. I needed that. You should have seen your face!”

  “You are a wicked, wicked, evil woman, Willow Crawford.” He tried to sound angry, but his smile spoiled it. “Fine, yes, Dale is sexy as fuck, and I wanna ride him like Seabiscuit. Probably after I punch him in his stupid, handsome face. Does that make you feel better?”

  “Ha! Yes!” Offering her hand, she gave her best friend a high-five, and her heart felt lighter than it had since before she’d stood at the airport watching her soul mate walk away.

  The sound of a car engine coming down the drive drew her attention. Walking out of the barn, she was surprised to see a florist delivery van, painted bright blue with flowers all over it, with the name, Pickin’ Peonies, in curling pink script on the side. The Rock’s only flower shop was located in a small nursery on the way out of town heading toward Butterfield. The driver had to be lost or have the wrong address.

  Waving a greeting, she strode closer to the colorful van as a young woman got out, hurried around to the back of it, and opened the hatch.

  “Afternoon!” Willow called. “Can I help you?”

  “Are you Willow ‘Wannabe’ Crawford?” the delivery woman asked, after glancing at a piece of paper she then stuffed into the back pocket of her jeans. “I know this is Skyview Ranch—I just didn’t know anyone was out here these days.”

  Confused, but with a racing heart, Willow replied, “Yes, that’s me.” Did he really do this?

  “Nice to meet you—I’m Jesse Powell. I have a delivery for you—just a moment.” Reaching into the open cargo area of the van, the woman retrieved a small potted plant. Stepping closer, she handed it to Willow. “Now if you’re not familiar with succulents, just remember they don’t need a lot of water. They’re easy care.”

  Staring down at the small plant, her eyes blurred with tears that weren’t from laughter this time. “Is there . . .” She cleared her throat. “Is there a card?”

  “Oh yes! I’m sorry, I almost forgot.” Handing over a letter-sized envelope she continued, “That’s some fella you got there. He called yesterday and made the arrangements for the delivery. He had Jeremiah back there deliver the letter to us too.” She waved over Willow’s shoulder. “Hi, Jeremiah!”

  Willow glanced back to see her friend tip his hat at Jesse from where he stood in the open barn door. “Hey, Jesse.”

  The woman directed her attention back to Willow. “He wanted to be sure you got it with the plant. Poor guy had no idea what a succulent was, but he was positive you’d love it. I had to take a bunch of photos of the ones we had and text them to him. This is the one he liked best.”

  Willow nodded as her gaze dropped to the plant again. Without even knowing it, he’d sent her favorite—a baby rubberplant. “I do. I really really do. Thank you, so much. It’s really beautiful.”

  “Don’t thank me—thank that man of yours.” Shutting the van’s rear hatch, Jesse climbed back in the delivery vehicle. “You two have a good day, now,” she called out the open window as she drove away.

  “You too,” Willow and Jeremiah replied in unison.

  As she cradled the note and the plant carefully in one hand, Willow waved goodbye to the florist with the other. Heading back into the barn, she set the little green plant down on an old wooden bench and opened the letter.

  Wannabe,

  I miss you already. We managed the date, but I didn’t get to do flowers, then I remembered you’re not a flower kind of girl anyway. Thank God for florists, since I had no clue what a succulent was. I hope you like the one I picked out, and I look forward to sending you many more.

  Yours,

  Nathan

  “I couldn’t believe it when he called me and asked me where he could get you a succulent.” Jeremiah laughed from behind her, glancing at the note. “He’s such a sap. That man has got it bad for you, Willow-girl.”

  “Trust me, the feeling is entirely mutual.” Smiling, she carefully touched a leaf on the plant, knowing just where she was going to put it—on her desk in the bedroom, in the same place she’d written to him. Was it corny as all hell? Yes. Did she care? Not even a little.

  After a relaxing dinner together, with a few beers and more laughs than she could count, Jeremiah had gone home to tend his own animals. After putting the chickens to bed and feeding Ethel, Willow went to her bedroom, with the kitten on her heels, and retrieved the box containing her father’s letters from where it sat atop her dresser. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she caught a trace of Nathan’s scent. Of them. She knew she should wash the sheets, but she couldn’t bring herself to lose that connection with him yet. Glancing at the bedside clock, she saw she had an hour until their planned Skype call.

  When she pushed on the carved cherry blossom, the lid popped open with a soft click. Picking up the next letter, she set the box on the bed beside her and began to read.

  August 23rd

  My Beloved Cherry,

  It’s been two months since I’ve had time to sit down and write to you. We’ve been cutting hay for what feels like forever. It’s hot, dirty, back-breaking work from sunup until sundown. At the end of the day, I shower off the dust and grime and collapse into bed, too tired to even dream. Which means I don’t get to see you.

  Yesterday, we finished the last of it, and so today, after we did the basic chores, we took the rest of the afternoon and evening off. I caught up on sleep and finally saw you again. I dreamed of when we made love that first time. Your skin glowing in the moonlight, your eyes open and so full of love it nearly stopped my heart. You didn’t know, but I was so nervous that night. I was so desperate for you, but I didn’t want to hurt you. I was a fool to worry. What we have transcends the physical. Making love with you wasn’t just a joining of the flesh, it united our souls. I can never regret it. Not as long as I live. I know maybe I should, but I can’t bring myself to think poorly of something so magical. Holy, even. I burn for you even now. I think I always will.

  These past few months have felt like a lifetime, and I pray that I have the strength to wait the twelve years before I can hold you in my arms again. My heart is locked in a prison without you. The only relief I get is the sun, the fresh air, and the exhaustion hard work brings me. This ranch is saving my sanity, my life. I know if I wasn’t here, I’d be running back to you as fast as I could, and it would ruin both our lives.

  My soul bleeds for you. I find myself sniping at my uncle and the other hands. They glare and tell me I’m being an asshole, but I can’t stop the venom. It shames me, the way I talk to people sometimes, but I hurt so much, all the time, and it’s hard to keep it inside.

  I wonder, are you happy? Are your parents treating you okay? Is school going well? I ask myself all these things that I would give anything to know and come up empty. I don’t know how many times a person can survive their heart being broken, but mine snaps in two every time I wake from a dream and you’re not beside me, in my bed and in my arms where you belong.

  Tonight, there’s a dance and party in town to celebrate the end of hay season
. My uncle is making me go, saying I need to get off the ranch and be around people instead of just him, the other hands, and the damn cows for a few hours. Maybe he’s right. These years will pass too slowly if all I do is sit in this room, thinking of you, and working myself until I collapse.

  Uncle Simon is calling me––it’s time to go. I love you, with all my heart, always and forever.

  J

  Willow had no tears left. Admittedly, even though this letter was as heartbreaking as the others, she was becoming used to the emotions her father’s words evoked. They were beautiful, and she mourned the man he was that the world never knew.

  Checking the time, she saw she had fifteen minutes to shower and make herself presentable before Nathan Skyped her. She didn’t want him to see the evidence of her tears. Not to mention, she was dirty and probably still had a few cobwebs in her hair from the barn.

  Anticipation bolstering her, she carefully put the letters away before stripping and walking into the bathroom. As she turned on the water in the shower to let it warm up, she wondered what Nathan would think and do if she answered his Skype call buck naked. Grinning now, with happiness bubbling in her stomach, she stepped into the tub under the spray, looking forward to the surprise on her man’s face when he found her sitting in front of him wearing nothing but her skin.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Willow cleared her throat as she prepared to read the next letter aloud to Nathan during another one of their nightly Skype sessions after he’d returned to Kansas. While they spoke every day, either over the phone or internet, Willow needed time to recover after reading each of her father’s letters, so she only tackled one every other day. The emotions they evoked drained her.