“But you can go over there and cook your pies,” she said. “Daddy won’t care.”
That’s what we ended up doing.
Gathering pies and cake shit, we all trudged over to the new place that was about a quarter-mile walk from the old one.
“What are y’all going to do with the old place once you’re in the new place?” Candy wondered.
Originally, we’d planned to refurbish the barn. But after some inspections and a few more consults with Candy’s father, the decision was made to start fresh.
Meaning it saved us money and cost us money at the same time in the grand scheme of things.
“Bulldoze it,” Ace suggested.
I looked backward over my shoulder at the old trailer that had housed us these past few years, then turned to study the new place.
“Bulldozing it does sound nice,” I admitted. “That place is a dump.”
And it was.
The place was falling apart around our ears.
The air conditioner worked when it wanted to. The lights flickered if too many of us were using electricity all at once.
The floorboards creaked—and not in an old house kind of way, but in an ‘I’m about to break’ kind of way.
The septic system backed up through the pipes at least once every three or four months.
And in the end, the place was old, and it needed to go.
There wasn’t going to be any saving it.
“You could let the hands live in there while you fix up the bunkhouse,” Candy suggested.
Now that was a thought.
“That’s not too bad of an idea,” Callum admitted. “But, saying that, we don’t really have the money to do…”
“Actually,” Banks, my other brother, said. “We do have the money if you allow me to actually pay for something out of my own goddamn pocket.”
Banks was a professional bull rider.
He wasn’t rolling in the dough, but he did have enough that he could afford to upgrade the bunkhouse.
I wasn’t opposed to it, but he also had to let us pay him back if and when we had the money.
“I’m…” Ace started to say.
“We agree,” Codie said, slapping her hands over Ace’s mouth.
“We do, too!” That had come from Desi’s mouth. “But me and Candy have already been talking. We have a little equity in the coffee shop now. We could definitely afford to put a little bit of money in there. Especially now that I’m going to be baking there just as much as I’m baking at the coffee shop.”
Desi and Candy owned a coffee shop together.
Originally, Candy had done the coffee shop part while she sold the pastries, cakes, and cookies that Desi made. But eventually that’d become a little too much for Candy seeing as the entire coffee shop had practically exploded. Only a few months after having the shop up and running, they’d downsized.
Now all they did was sell pastries during certain hours and they didn’t even offer coffee at all. At least, not liquid coffee. They still sold packaged coffee that the customers could use in their own homes.
Which had done surprisingly well considering how pissed off the customers had been when they learned of the downsizing.
After everyone got their feathers settled, they’d still come in to get their fix.
They’d also learned to deal with the odd hours and sometimes arriving and there being no pastries.
Yet, people still came.
And I had a feeling that had a lot to do with the fact that it was associated with the Valentines.
See, the Valentine name was a big deal in our small town.
After recuperating from our wounds that we’d sustained from our father shooting us, we’d been placed with a family in Houston.
From there, everyone else had wondered about us. Thought about us constantly.
And now that we were back, they were still just as nosy as before, only a lot more careful to hide it.
“This is so cool!” Desi said as she placed her offerings onto the counter in the new kitchen.
I looked around and had to agree with her.
The new place was about four times the size of the old one, which was good seeing as Ace was already adding to his family, as was Callum.
And since we’d all decided to keep the family at home, in one home for four brothers and their families—or in my case one-day family—we’d needed something bigger.
“It’s magnificent,” Codie gasped, taking in the paint on the walls. “The gray was a good idea. It looks so bright and airy in here.”
I agreed.
The walls were a soft gray, almost white. And the ceilings were now layered with a pattern of pine. The exposed beams at the top of the peaks were a nice touch, too.
The room looked massive, and I had a feeling that we were going to be spending a lot of time in here.
“I’m not sure that I like the stupid vent in the middle of the wall, though,” Candy muttered, glaring at said vent.
She did have a point.
There was a solid wall and one single random vent in the middle of it. They could’ve put that anywhere.
“I’m going to have them move it,” she mumbled to herself.
Candy was a bulldog when it came to this house she was building. And it wasn’t just because she was about to be living in it, either. It was because she truly cared about her father’s jobs—and she made it to her specifications no matter what.
Even if it pissed off the foreman more often than not.
“It’s not bad…” Ace tried to explain.
But Candy was already shaking her head.
“I really don’t like it,” she said. “They could’ve put it on the roof, in the entryway right underneath it,” she said. “Or they could’ve not put it there at all and added another one to the ceiling. I’m not sure when they even did this, either. It looks awful.”
Rolling my eyes, I allowed Candy to do her micromanaging thing and walked over to turn on the ovens for Desi.
Desi was too busy sticking her head in the subzero fridge to notice me doing it.
“What do they need to be put on, Des?” I called out.
“Four hundred degrees,” she called, sounding muffled by the doors. “Do you realize that this really can get ‘subarctic?’”
Well, one would hope so.
It was as we were waiting for the food to cook that what I’d done today came up.
“So, did you do anything productive today?” Ace asked me.
I looked at my eldest brother.
“I went and had lunch with Georgia and Nico after running fence yesterday,” I told him. “Then I found Waylynn working at that diner over by the Motts place.” He knew exactly what diner and made a disgusted face. “Which then turned into her getting a job with Gibson. Gibson asked me to come over this morning to help him with the speakers at the Apache. After that, I went and collected my diploma from the post office box. I spilled Dr. Pepper all over it and tossed it into the trash…”
Desi, Codie, Ace, Callum, and Candy all gasped.
“What?” I asked.
“You tossed your diploma in the trash?” Codie asked, her voice screechy.
“Um, yeah,” I said. “It had Dr. Pepper all over it.”
Candy was up and moving toward the door before I could tell her anything more.
“I’ll go get it,” Candy muttered.
I frowned.
“What’s the big deal?” I asked. “It’s just a piece of paper.”
It was Banks who crossed his beefy arms over his chest and stared at me with an unblinking stare that might’ve intimidated me once upon a time. Now that I was mostly his size, though? I wasn’t nearly as intimidated by it.
“You graduated against a lot of odds, kid,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“I’m not a kid,” I told him.
I didn’t bother to dispute the ‘agains
t a lot of odds’ part.
It was against the odds that I’d graduated.
“Do you realize that you’re the only one out of all the brothers to get a degree?” Callum asked. “That’s a big fuckin’ deal.”
I felt something close to pride fill my chest at hearing that from a brother that had once given up on me.
I’d done some bad things in my life. Made some very poor decisions.
And it’d almost haunted me to this day.
Yet, somehow, I’d been able to claw myself out of the shithole I’d let my life become.
I’d gone to school. Gotten my GED. Then college. And not with just an associate’s degree, but a bachelor’s.
I graduated with my architectural engineering degree as well as one in agricultural science.
That was no small feat while also working full time on the ranch, as well as traveling around to various rodeos making the big bucks as a bullfighter.
“Got it!” Candy said as she waved around the manila envelope that I’d tossed in the trash can as I’d gotten home this afternoon.
Ace got up and took it from her, ripping into it like it was the cure to cancer or something.
Then he grinned like a fucking loon and waved the wet diploma at us with excitement written all over his face.
“I should’ve made your favorite meal or something,” Desi said as she bumped my shoulder with hers.
I tried not to get overly emotional, but it was hard.
At one point, my brothers had written me off. They’d kicked me out and had told me to not come back.
And I hadn’t.
I hadn’t come back until I had all my shit straight, and my ducks in a row.
I had a job. I had my GED since I dropped out of high school in my last semester. I had been enrolled in college and actually had passing grades through two entire semesters of it.
In fact, I hadn’t actually been the one to come back at all.
After my sister had almost been killed, it’d screwed my head on straight.
I’d decided that enough was enough, and I wouldn’t be going down the same dark path that I’d been allowing myself previously.
It was only when I’d turned twenty-one that my family had found me at my dorm.
My sister, Georgia, had been right up front waiting for me to come back to our family with open arms.
And from that point forward, once they’d welcomed me back, I’d been the hardest worker they’d ever seen.
Going to college full-time.
Doing what needed to be done at home with the ranch.
Making money on the side so that I didn’t take any money out of their pockets if I could help it.
It’d all led me to where I was today.
“I guess now is the time to tell you that I found a job,” I told them.
There were gasps all around.
“What do you mean you found a job?” Ace boomed. “You can’t go work full-fucking-time and work here and work as a bullfighter!”
I looked at my big brother and grinned.
“Actually, I can,” I said. “Bullfighting is a part-time gig anyway. I take the ones I want. And I already didn’t do shit with y’all anyway. I will still give y’all Monday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I just can’t give you Tuesday through Thursday.”
“What… how… why?” Ace asked.
I scratched the back of my head.
“It’s not like y’all really need me,” I pointed out.
Ace’s face went into a hard line of anger.
Callum growled.
Banks stayed his usual silent self.
“Tell me why,” Banks ordered after a long moment of silence.
I sighed.
“Y’all still don’t trust me with most things,” I told them bluntly. “I ride fence and I muck out stalls. But seriously, y’all follow behind me as if I didn’t do it, or don’t know how to do it.”
They stayed silent because they knew that I was right.
“And I’ll still do my fair share of the chores,” I said as I continued. “It’s not like I plan on moving out or anything,” as long as they didn’t force me to. It’s not like I really put much of an effort into the workings of the ranch. And at one point, I’d cost them more than I’d helped them. “Anyway, I’ll be working twelve-hour shifts Tuesday through Thursday at the college teaching college classes.” I paused. “And when I’m not teaching, I’m going to be doing research with the forestry service.”
There was a long, silent pause.
Then, “You’re leaving us to teach.”
That came from Callum.
“Yes.” I paused. “If you want to consider it actually ‘leaving’ you.”
Callum blinked.
“The fact that you didn’t bring this to our attention means that you don’t really want or need our opinions,” Ace snapped.
I sighed.
I had a feeling they were going to feel this way.
“Why bother staying here?” Callum asked.
Now that made my spine shoot straight.
“You don’t want me to help when I’m off?” I asked carefully.
Too carefully.
If they’d noticed at all that I was losing my cool, they didn’t show it.
It wasn’t often that I let my temper show anymore.
Honestly, it got to the point that I either A, left before it got to that point, or B, hid it in some way.
There was no hiding the anger today, though.
Desi, who was now standing next to Callum, pinched him.
Callum didn’t flinch, though.
“You just said that you don’t help out much,” Banks pointed out. “So if that’s the way you really feel, there’s no reason to stay here. The only reason we’re all staying in the big house is because we need to be here to do the shit that needs done.”
At that, I realized that they were pissed. They were pissed and they were lashing out.
That was what I hoped, anyway.
The other possibility was that they really felt like that.
And I didn’t like that possibility.
Those words coming from Banks’ mouth was rich.
He was the one that was gone more time than he was here.
Sure, he was a little bit bigger of a name than I was, but at least when I picked up my bullfighting shifts, it was on the days that the ranch was covered and there was more than enough help to go around.
“You could’ve given us a notice,” Ace continued the berating. “I mean, we were going to need your help to move cows next week. That’s not something that’s just going to be done with three people since we gave the hands the weekend off with the holiday coming up. That’s going to be Thursday to Sunday at least.”
I gritted my teeth.
“I don’t even start until next month,” I pointed out. “And I told you as soon as I’d gotten confirmation from the forestry service,” I paused. “And I was happy to accept because for once I could actually make some good money and apply it to the ranch.”
“We don’t need your money, Darby,” Callum growled. “We need you.”
That’s when I exploded.
“You need me? What did you think was going to happen when I graduated?” I laughed. “You only use me for the shit jobs that y’all don’t want to do,” I remind. “You have me muck the stalls.” I gave each of my brothers a look. “When was the last time y’all did that? Willingly?”
They didn’t have an answer.
“The last time I had any bit of help with that at all was when Candy helped without even being asked to,” I snapped.
None of them said a word.
“And,” I continued, “the last thing that y’all had me do outside of mucking the stalls or running and repairing fence? Euthanizing a cow.” I paused. “You had me do that, bury it, and cover it back up all by myself. When was the last goddamn time y’all did that by yourselves?”
Never.
Because it was a two-person job most of the time.
“Y’all didn’t give a shit if I had to go to school.” I flicked up my hand. “You complained if I took a gig out of town meaning y’all would have to muck out a stall for once,” I continued. “Not to mention that Banks was at the same goddamn thing, so it wasn’t like it was just me gone. And I never fucking hear y’all giving him shit for that.”
Candy shifted on her feet, looking as if she was partway in agreement with that.
“I do everything I can around here,” I said. “I get up at four in the morning. I go to school. I come home. I do more bullshit that y’all don’t want to do. Then, when you’re done ordering me around, I come home and study.” I paused. “Ask me the last time I went out on a fucking date.”
Nobody had anything to say to that.
“It’s been six years,” I said. “And it’s been eight since I’ve done anything stupid. I think it’s time to start seeing me as an adult. One that has not fucked up in a while.” I looked each of my three furious brothers in the face. “Sorry if I wanted to find a place where I was actually going to make a difference.” I clenched my fists. “And I never said I wouldn’t do the bullshit that y’all didn’t want to do. I still will, you know. Even if I’m not living here anymore.”
With that, I turned on my heels and left.
Fuck graduating.
Fuck them.
Fuck this house.
Fuck everything.
Chapter 6
Call me boring, but I want a simple wedding. No fancy hall, no expensive dress, no food, no guests. No husband.
-Text from Waylynn to Darby
Waylynn
I never expected to find Darby at a bar at two in the morning, but I also never expected to find myself at a bar at two in the morning.
The man behind the bar looked up, seeming relieved to see me.
“You Waylynn?” he asked curiously.
I nodded my head.
“This here fella needs a ride home,” the bartender said. “I’m not sure if you’re the one who needs to be called, but you’re the first contact and last call I found in his phone, so you got the call.”
He’d called me earlier to make sure that I’d gotten home all right after helping at the Apache.
It’d been sweet of him at the time.
Get Bucked Page 4
