Expelled

by Claire Adams

  “Your sales are steady,” Andrea reminded me. “With the rise of the digital market, many up and coming writers felt the squeeze, but the cowboy genre is a trend that’s only been getting more popular. The editing and marketing team at the publisher have a great feeling about the idea you’ve come up with. So do I, for that matter.”

  “That means a lot, Andrea,” I said.

  “I wouldn’t say it unless it was true.”

  “I’m so excited to get started!” I rose from the couch, and a pile of books tumbled onto the ground next to my feet. I stepped over them to get to my desk and the computer sleeping on top of it. “When do they want the first draft?”

  “By February, at the latest.”

  That was more than doable and left plenty of time for research. I had no idea why a novel about cowboys out on the range had appealed to me so much. I’d never even been on a damned horse, let alone out West.

  “That’s perfect. I can spend a few months on research, maybe on a ranch someplace rugged and picturesque. Really live the life, you know?” As I was saying it, I realized how ridiculous it sounded, but I’d find a way to make it work. I always did. I hadn’t known anything about being a captain on a dive boat in the Bahamas either before I spent four months down there diving and working on the water.

  “Keep me updated, kid,” Andrea said, which was her way of signing off.

  I hung up with her and fired up my computer, sliding a few magazines off the chair so I could sit down at the desk. I pushed my glasses up my nose and started hunting around on the internet, looking for some opportunities out West. I could find an extended Airbnb or look into one of those dude ranches where they let you come live the life of a cowboy for a week or two. That might be a great start while I looked for something more long-term.

  I opened several tabs in my browser, each with a separate opportunity that was available, but not quite right. I was ready to quit for the afternoon when I landed on a page advertising a room for rent on a ranch outside of Jackson, Wyoming. I read through the details and looked over the picture accompanying the ad—a wooden barn in the middle of a grassy plain, with cows in a field and, in the background, a breathtaking mountain range overlooking it all. Everything about this location was perfect and, most importantly, the rate was reasonable.

  The ad listed a man named Eric Matthews as the contact. I shot an email off to him, introducing myself and asking how soon I could move in.

  Chapter Three

  Cash

  Early July, Afternoon

  After finishing up the morning’s chores and rustling up something for lunch, Eric and I each picked our favorite of the horses left on the property—I had Dusty and Eric chose one of the bigger pintos that I’d named Lettie. We got the horses tacked up properly and hit the trails just past the far rear border of my property, going along at an easy canter. It was warmer today, about 80 degrees already, so I didn’t want to work the horses too hard. I was just itching to get out on the land with a horse beneath me and the fresh air hitting me in the face. Nothing beat this feeling or this view. I hadn’t traveled much in my life, but what little I’d seen didn’t compare to what I had right here in my own backyard. Eric talked a lot about going over to the East Coast one day, but I didn’t see a reason to ever leave Jackson County, let alone Wyoming.

  “A new bar just opened up in Jackson,” Eric said, bringing his horse around so we were only riding a few feet apart. “I was out there last night. You should come check it out some night. Might be a good place to meet some ladies.” He lifted his eyebrows a few times when I turned to shoot him a dry look.

  “I got no interest drinking in town when I have plenty of my own alcohol up here. Not to mention those places are loud.”

  “You sound like an old man, Cash. Women don’t find that attractive.”

  I pulled the reins a little, moving Dusty around a small hole in the ground. The wind was kicking this morning, rushing through the grass. Nothing beat the feeling of being out on this land. I didn’t understand anyone who couldn’t find whatever they were looking for out here, with the mountains in the distance and the wind sweeping in, seemingly from all sides.

  “I don’t give a good goddamn what women find attractive.” That wasn’t exactly true, but I really wasn’t looking to start a relationship right now. I had a lot of work to do on the ranch to recoup the money I’d lost. Things were hanging by a string around here. “And you know exactly how I am.”

  “I do,” he agreed, much too easily. “Which is how I know that you need to loosen up before you snap.”

  I didn’t peel my eyes from the scenery around me to glance over at Eric. I already knew the look on his face, anyway. Why interrupt a beautiful ride?

  “You’ve been telling me to loosen up since we were in kindergarten together, Eric. More than 20 years. If it hasn’t happened yet, it ain’t gonna happen. You need to make peace with how I am, same as I’ve made peace with how you are.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

  I lightly tapped Dusty’s sides with the heels of my boots, encouraging her to go a little quicker. Eric did the same to Lettie, and she kept pace easily. The sun was blazing over our heads but, thanks to the wind, it was a pleasant day for a ride. And I had the good sense to wear a cowboy hat to shade my eyes. Eric had sunglasses and no hat, looking like the city mouse that he was despite having grown up in Jackson, same as I had.

  “You can’t let things lie,” I replied simply, not meaning to go further. There were quite a few things that bothered me about Eric, but I didn’t see the point in trying to change them. He’d been basically the same since we met in our kindergarten class, and so had I. Nobody really changed, when it came down to it, like our minds could only reach so far without snapping right back to the way they were.

  “That’s the truth,” he said, sounding proud of it as he puffed his chest out.

  “People can’t change who they are. Not really. Even if I wanted to loosen up, which I don’t, it wouldn’t happen. So, pushing the issue doesn’t end up doing a damned thing. You try to change me every which way while I grumble and tell you to leave things be. But neither one of us can change the other. I think we’re only friends ‘cause we’re so damned different to begin with.” That was a hearty mouthful. I settled back in the saddle, letting Dusty slow to an easy canter. We’d need to turn back soon. I had more chores waiting for me on the ranch, and Eric had to get back to whatever the hell he did all day in town.

  “That’s some deep shit right there, Cash,” Eric said, laughing at me the way he did most of the time. Not that it bothered me. Eric was the type who laughed at just about everything. We really were opposites in just about every way except where it counted. He loved his family and would give the shirt off his back for a friend in need. I was the same way. Those were the important things.

  “It just so happens to be the truth, too,” I said, shooting him a grin. “Just enjoy the ride and quit worrying after what I’m gonna do in my life.”

  Eric grunted his disagreement with this suggestion but actually kept quiet for a handful of minutes, long enough for us to take in the fresh air and view of the mountains crowded on the edge of the horizon like sleeping giants. I never got tired of being out here. I didn’t understand the mass exodus that had taken place after we graduated from high school, so many of our friends leaving Jackson for more exciting places in the city. I had no interest in attending college or leaving the state. My life was here. Always had been, always would be. I didn’t see it as a limitation the way Eric did. I could leave whenever I wanted. I just didn’t want to, and nobody was gonna succeed at making me feel bad about staying in the place I loved most in this world.

  “You know,” Eric started up again, and I clenched my jaw to keep from telling him to button his lip for a change so I could have the sound of the wind in my ears instead of whatever he was about to say. “You being so uptight and standoffish is probably costing you dates with some quality wome
n. There was a girl asking after you in town last week.”

  I had to chuckle at that, long and low. “That’s a damned lie.”

  “When was the last time you even went out on a date with someone?” he asked, a challenging shine to his dark eyes, his hair blindingly blond in the sun. He needed to put on a damned hat.

  “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

  “You can’t remember, can you?”

  I didn’t turn to look at him but could see his smile spreading wide from the corner of my eye.

  “Ellie,” I said. “That barrel racer I took out quite a few times.”

  Eric laughed. “Shit, that was over a year ago!”

  I shrugged, not seeing what difference that made. But I realized that it had been over a year. I kept so busy, I hadn’t even noticed the time passing. I’d be an old man before I knew it at this rate.

  “And taking a woman out three or four times whenever the rodeo rolls through town doesn’t really count as a relationship.”

  “You didn’t ask about a relationship,” I pointed out, shooting a sharp look his way. “You asked about the last woman I took out on the town.”

  He gave me a look like this was the most tiresome conversation he’d ever had. I loved yanking his chain, and he loved riling me up by butting into my life where I hadn’t invited him. But it was comfortable too, knowing exactly where you stood with someone. He was the closest I had to a brother and one of the few friends I’d kept after finishing school. I didn’t need many people. I was far more comfortable spending a silent day with my animals and then falling into a book right before bed. But Eric had been around so long, I might as well keep him.

  “Do you really call what you and Ellie did dating?” he asked, one light eyebrow cocked high.

  I spit into the grass before answering, in no hurry to continue this conversation, though I knew there was no diverting Eric’s attention after he got started on a subject.

  “I reckon it was close enough.”

  He chuckled again.

  “I’m not about to go chasing after every damned skirt that passes me by the way you do,” I said, keeping my tone conversational while my eyes wandered over the landscape. I liked to stay aware of my surroundings, especially when I was on a horse. Not that this was a dangerous area, but there were still things to avoid. I had to be the eyes for both of us whenever I rode with Eric. He spent too much time running his jaw, but that gave me all the time I needed to play the lookout.

  Eric was smiling even wider at that light accusation. This was an old argument between us, going way back to high school when he was busy dating as many girls as he could while I was focused on making and then staying on the varsity football team.

  “I have a healthy dating life,” he admitted, his grin getting so wide it was likely to tear his face in two. That boy would grin through a stampede. “But you’re so stuck in your boring ass rut that God could literally deliver the perfect woman right to your doorstep, and you’d probably run her off because you’re in such a foul damned mood all the time.”

  “God don’t make a habit of delivering women to doorsteps,” I remarked.

  “Well, it—”

  I held up one hand, shutting him the hell up, while using the other to pull on the reins, bringing old Dusty to a stop. We hadn’t been going very quickly, so Lettie came to a stop next to Dusty on her own. They’d been neighbors for years, their stalls right next to each other in the stable. When one did something, the other followed.

  Eric gave me a questioning glance, his dark eyes wide. He could tell by the look on my face that this was serious. I pointed to an area only a few feet from where our horses were standing. There was a rattlesnake coiled on a flat rock in the middle of our path, sunning itself. It had alerted at the sight of the horses, lifting its flat head but not moving any further. If it struck, it could spook the horses, who might throw me or Eric from the saddle, putting us in danger of getting bit. Both of these mares were pretty easygoing, but a snake would be enough to stir them up into a frenzy that would be dangerous to us and them.

  I rubbed Dusty’s neck to keep her calm and still, but didn’t make another move or open my mouth to speak. I joked about Eric being a city mouse, but he knew exactly what to do in a situation like this. We’d come up together riding horses, roping, and running through the wild lands outside of Jackson. This wasn’t our first rattler, but they never got any less dangerous. A bite from one could put you in the hospital or even the ground.

  After a few tense seconds of silence, the snake started rattling its tail, creating that perilous sound that every person in this area knew and feared. I couldn’t risk turning the horse around with the snake in striking distance, but I also didn’t want to just sit here while it came for Dusty or Lettie. Now that its tail was going, we needed to act.

  I shot a quick look at Eric without moving my head more than I had to. We locked eyes, making a plan without speaking a word, the same way we had for years. I tightened the reins in one hand and kept rubbing Dusty slowly with the other as I began backing her up a step at a time, that rattling tickling my ears. The snake watched us with its beady eyes, that tail going a mile a minute. Beside me, Eric was moving Lettie back at the same time, one hand patting her gently on the neck, though she and Dusty didn’t seem too bothered by the situation.

  The rattling stopped as soon as we got out of striking distance, but I kept moving back a few more steps past that, just wanting to be safe. Rattlers were fast, and they could strike without warning, even after you thought you were clear.

  “Good girl,” I crooned, giving Dusty’s neck another firm rub. She shook her head, whickering softly, and Lettie answered with her own low whinny, which drew the snake’s attention, though it seemed content to leave us the hell alone now that we weren’t an immediate threat to its sunning spot.

  “Shit, that was close,” Eric said, his eyes still on the snake. “I didn’t even see that little bastard. I’m glad one of us was paying attention to what the hell was going on.”

  I got Dusty moving again before I answered him, both of us giving the snake a wide berth. Even the excitement of almost getting one of the horses snake bit didn’t make me want to head back to the ranch. When I got the itch to turn away from society and venture out into the land, I had to ride until I scratched it, and it wasn’t quite scratched yet.

  “He was right in the middle of the path,” I said. “You would’ve seen him sooner or later.” My lips split into a small grin. “Probably too late, but that’s just how you are.”

  He laughed nervously. He’d almost been bitten by a rattlesnake as a kid and hadn’t gotten over the fear of them. Not that I wasn’t respectful of them myself, steering well clear whenever I ran across one on a ride or walk.

  “Well, I guess being careful pays off sometimes,” he replied. “If you hadn’t been looking out for where we were going, that situation could’ve ended very differently.”

  He didn’t quite understand what I did when I came out here. Some people had religion. I had this open space and the view of the mountains. I needed this as surely as my lungs needed air to keep working, as surely as my heart needed blood to keep pumping life through my body. This was my sustenance, the only thing I truly worshiped in this life. When I came out here, I felt connected to every living thing on this Earth. But I couldn’t say all that to Eric. It was personal, between me and this land.

  “It ain’t about being careful,” I said, though there was some of that too. “I pay such close attention because I love this land and I never want to get in the habit of taking it for granted.” It was as much as I planned to say on the matter. I tapped Dusty’s sides with my heels, barked, “Giddy up, old girl!” and took off, leaving Lettie and Eric in the dust behind us, just wanting to plunge into the gorgeous landscape and never come out again.

  Chapter Four

  Hailey

  Early July, Late Afternoon

  I pulled my suitcases off the carousel
in baggage claim and then went straight to the counter of the rental car company where I’d reserved their least expensive vehicle for the next several months that I planned to stay in Wyoming. It was my first visit, and I felt like a big fat Manhattan fish out of water. But I was determined to get my feet back under me in a hurry. If I could survive in the Alaskan tundra over the bitterly cold winter for a book about a pair of lovebirds meeting during a cruise excursion and deciding to stay up north, I could do anything.

  Before I knew it, my bags were arranged in the trunk, the address of the ranch was loaded into the GPS, and I was driving away from Jackson Hole Airport. I was pumped for the start of another adventure. This was my favorite part of the process. I loved the writing too, and even the editing could be fun, but nothing beat research, especially since I got to do so much of it on location. I really had no idea how I’d lucked into mixing my three loves—reading, writing, and traveling—into a job that made more than enough money for me to survive on.

  I kept an eye on the GPS as I drove. This place was really in the middle of nowhere. It felt like Little House on the Prairie, except I could see a mountain range in the distance. That might be an interesting day trip once I got settled in at the ranch. The idea of spending so much time out here in the wilderness was both thrilling and frightening. Thrilling because I loved exploring a place I’d never been before. I thrived on that kind of excitement. But it was frightening too because I was a city girl through and through, born and raised on the tiny island of Manhattan. The novels I’d written that took place in more rural settings had been years ago when I was fresh from college. Most of my new stuff was urban and dark, full of the types of drama that could only survive in a place full of people, flashing lights, and action. This was going to be different. Even the story I’d told about the couple living in Alaska had taken place in Fairbanks, which was pretty damned modern, and had a population 10 times the size of this little Podunk town in Wyoming. From what I read about Jackson, it was anything but modern, and this ranch was quite a ways outside of the city. I was about to have a crash course in what living the simple life really meant if the emails Eric Matthews sent were to be believed.