“I love you too,” I replied, and it felt so natural to say it. It almost makes up for having to drink alone by the pond, my head whirling with thoughts.
Tonight could’ve gone very differently. Would Mark and Luke have been okay without me here? Three on four isn’t great odds, but two on four’s worse.
Would I even want them to be okay without me? I’ve started to enjoy the fact that when Mark comes out of the office, he gives me a look of gratitude when he sees that I’ve already gotten a heap of work done. I know Luke feels the same way—it’s the only way he’s been able to keep his breeding lines going this year. Sure, I don’t have any glamour in what I do around the ranch, but for the first time in my life, I don’t really mind it that much.
I toss a rock across the pond, watching the moonlit circles waver where the rock pings along the surface. Finally, I take a deep breath and look up at the moon. “Pops, can I talk to you for a second?”
There’s no answer, of course, but in my head, I can hear him clear as day: Sure thing, hellion.
It makes me smile. No one has called me hellion in years, but he always did when I was a kid. “Pops, I’m at a crossroads, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve always dreamed of the rodeo, doing the circuit, and I have loved every minute of the freedom, the excitement. But without you, it feels like I should be here. I think it’s time to come home.”
I don’t want you feeling a duty to the land just because I’ve checked out. Is that your only reason, because I’ve moved on?
I pause, before admitting something I’m not sure I was ready to admit even last week. “It’s more than that, though. I think I’m ready to be the man you wanted me to be, helping Mark take care of the ranch and looking out for Mama. And that’s scary. Being in one place terrifies the fuck out of me, and I don’t know if I can do it. But I want to.”
Go on, boy. You always were the one to counter Mark. He says one word when he needs five, you say ten when one’s needed.
I take a swig of beer, needing the liquid courage even as the old adage from Pops makes me smile. “There’s a girl, Pops. And she’s great, crazy enough to challenge me, but she’s got her head on straight. She’s got a plan, though, and I’m pretty sure it doesn’t include me, definitely doesn’t include staying anywhere near the ranch. She’s way too good for me, but I want her anyway. I love her, Pops.”
Sounds like you’ve got something more important than a ranch, James. Land comes and goes, cattle comes and goes . . . but a good woman is forever.
I duck my head for a moment, all the thoughts that have been swirling coming together in one certainty: I love Sophie. Whatever it takes, I need to be with her. If I have to follow her, I’ll do it.
But still, if there’s a way to be with Sophie and take care of my family, I have to try. I don’t know how that’s possible yet, but there has to be a way.
Resolution settles into my heart, my mind made up. I’m jumping ship, diving into the deep end of responsible adulthood. Pops didn’t raise a scaredy-cat, so if figuring this out with Sophie and my family is what I need to do, then that’s that. I’ve been running wild with destination: undetermined for so long. I’ve moved week to week with the rodeo, always knowing that it was my thing, never having to compare with or compete against my brothers, my father, or my family name. But it’s time to man up, take charge of my future, and create the life I want. With Sophie and on the ranch with my family if possible.
I thump my chest over my heart, looking up. “Thanks, Pops. Love you.”
Love you, too, James. Always have, always will.
With a weight lifted off my shoulders, I toss back the rest of my beer and head back toward the house. I don’t get far before I realize that Mama is sitting on the back porch swing, sipping a glass of tea and looking at the stars.
Mounting the steps, I lean against the railing, smiling. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, young lady?”
Mama laughs at me, and pats the seat beside her. “That it is. But there seemed to be a lot going on this evening, and I knew you boys were gonna need a little something.”
She offers me a glass, and I see another abandoned empty one on the table. I raise an eyebrow, silently questioning, and she answers quietly, “Mark’s. He’s fine. Just feels bad that he stirred up a hornet’s nest for someone. He’s got a heart of gold underneath that cold exterior, you know.”
I do know that, but it’s hard to remember sometimes when the tin-man act rarely cracks. I sit down, and she pours me a glass out of the pitcher. I take a big gulp of the sweet tea, but as it hits my stomach, I start sputtering. “Damn, Mama . . . that’s not tea!”
She swats at me, still smiling, though. “Language, James. And it is too tea. Just with a little kick from the bourbon.”
She says so much in a few words, it takes me a moment to figure out which part to reply to. I decide to start with the unspoken part of her statement. “So, Mark tell you about Paul Tannen?”
Mama sips her tea again, waving a hand at me. “Pshaw, boy, I knew you bunch were going over there en masse tonight, figured it was to warn them off trying to buy again. You three aren’t exactly subtle, you know. Now, I didn’t know about Paul’s gambling until Mark just told me. I hope he gets it together; he’s got folks depending on him . . .” She trails off, shaking her head. “What is it with you men and wanting to play the odds?”
I shrug, knowing that in my own way, I gamble just as much as Paul Tannen. What else do you call it when you climb on the back of a bull? “The boys didn’t know about Paul either. Now it’s all out in the open, though. Seems Brody is taking it seriously. Sophie said he came and got Shayanne, was asking about their finances before he even got her in the truck.”
Mama clucks her tongue, rocking the swing lightly. “Shame it’s on the kids to take care of it, but at least they know now and can be on the lookout for any problems. Speaking of Sophie, I haven’t seen her in a bit. You been going into town more?”
I nod, relieved to be able to talk it over with Mama. “Yeah, we had a bit of a . . . thing a week or so ago, but Mark kicked my ass and sorted my head out. We had a great date yesterday, made up for my running scared.”
Mama laughs, and I guess it’s the bourbon tea that’s got her a little more loose-lipped. “James, I know about makeup sex. Your Pops and I would sometimes argue over stupid stuff, just so we’d have something to make up over.”
I shiver, laughing a little uncomfortably. “Things I don’t need to know, Mama. As far as I’m concerned, you and Pops had sex exactly two times to have Mark and Luke. I’m a product of miraculous conception.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want to believe,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “Your father was a good man, in every sense of the word.” I cringe, and she laughs. “Fine, fine . . . what happened with Sophie?”
I smile, scratching at my lip nervously because this is major, and I want Mama to like Sophie. I know she’s been fine with her at dinner, but this is different, decidedly more serious than a dinner guest. Finally, I reach over and take Mama’s hand. “I love her, Mama. I know it now—she’s the one. And I’m ready to stay here on the ranch, help handle things here and not ride bulls anymore, but I need to be with her. Wherever she’s going, I’m going. I’ll find a ranch-hand job near her school if I can. If not, I’ll do whatever it takes to support us so I can be with her.”
Mama smiles, her tone teasing as she squeezes my fingers back. “I knew it. I told you months ago. Men can be such morons, even the ones I raised. Best-laid plans . . . ‘Just for the summer, Mama.’ As if.”
She’s mocking what I told her shortly after I met Sophie, and I remember her muttering “best-laid plans” under her breath. It makes me smile, and wonder just a little. “You didn’t know back then. Hell, I’d just met her then!”
“Uh-huh,” Mama says dismissively. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, son. That woman had you on a string from the word go. Glad you finally realized it. She’s a good one. I definitely approve.”
&nb
sp; She leans over, bumping my shoulder with hers, and the breath I’d been holding releases in relief. “Thanks, Mama.”
“And you know you’re always welcome here. This is your home, no matter if you’re riding rodeo or chasing after Sophie. This is home.”
I nod, putting an arm around her shoulders and hugging her tightly. “I know, Mama. And I’m ready to be here, help on the ranch. And hopefully someday really soon I’ll be able to, but I need her. She’s got all these plans, and I’m just hoping she can pencil me in somewhere.”
Mama looks at me like I’m crazy. “James, that girl is just as spun as you are. Don’t you think she’s got the same thoughts you have? That she’s going to have to figure out how to balance being a vet student with you riding rodeo? Have you even filled her in on your ideas for settling down? Have you asked her to stay?”
I shake my head, confused again. “I can’t ask her that. She wants to be a vet, and I want her to have what she wants.”
Mama sighs, like I’ve taken leave of my senses. “Well, there’s more than one vet school in the country, son.”
I look at her, nodding but unsure. “I know, but she’s already been accepted in the program she wants.”
Mama nods, still dragging me along to her goal. “My point is, you don’t get to decide what the future looks like. It’s something you two decide together. Your father never would have come out here to set up a ranch if I’d said I needed to stay where we were. You’re leaving out a rather important detail here, though, aren’t you, Romeo?”
I grin at the nickname, nodding.
She raises an eyebrow, continuing, “What about rodeo? You say you’re ready to not ride anymore, stay here or wherever she is, but you’re giving up something you love. And you’re already committed to finals in November. You earned that spot. Are you sure you want to give that up?”
I sigh, leaning forward and downing the rest of my spiked tea. “I am committed. But I can train anywhere, maybe fly out to the fall circuits instead of driving. Then head to Vegas a bit early and make it my farewell ride. And then . . . come home . . . or to Sophie, wherever she is.”
Mama pats my back, just like she used to when I had lots of questions and not enough answers as a younger man. “Sounds like you’ve got some serious conversations to have with her. I know it feels like a lot, but I’m sure you two can work it out. Love always finds a way. In fact, did I ever tell you about the time your Pops came to see me . . .”
As she launches into a story about their early dating days, I’m at peace for the first time in a long time. Maybe Pops was right all those years ago.
This is the life . . . working your land, providing for your family, loving your woman the way he loved Mama, and swinging on the back porch at night, surrounded by stretches of dark sky and stars.
This is it. I’m back where I started physically, but in such a different place mentally.
I just hope Sophie wants to live this type of life too . . . with me.
CHAPTER 25
SOPHIE
Sweat stings my eye. I’m in the middle of administering a vaccine to a particularly ornery nanny goat when my phone buzzes in my back pocket. I’m out in the back of Doc’s office, in the small area he has for farm animals whose owners bring them in instead of us doing house calls. After a little love to the feisty creature, I release the gate to the pen, letting her back out to hop around free so she can work off her anger with me.
Smiling at her antics, I apologize. “Sorry, the shot’s for your own good!”
The goat bleats at me, and I step back and pull my phone out to see a message from Shayanne.
Can you talk?
Of course! I text back. The goat I’m treating doesn’t mind!
A moment later, my phone rings. I watch the goat while I jump straight in, foregoing a greeting. “Are you okay?”
Shayanne giggles, like I haven’t been worrying about her for the past twenty-four hours. “So, you’re seeing other goats behind my back, huh?”
“You’re not the only people with goats around here,” I remind her, relieved a little. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I’m okay, silly. Sorry if Brody scared you. It was a rough night here, I’ll admit. Did James tell you what happened?”
“Yeah, he told me about it late last night when we talked after you left,” I reply, wiping my forehead again. “I’m sorry it was hard. But you’re okay, and your family is okay?”
Shayanne sighs, and I know she’s not being completely honest, but she’s doing her best to tell me what she feels comfortable with. “Yeah, Brody’s got it under control. We stayed up all night going over the books and the bank statements. Apparently, Daddy’s been using a separate account to float his gambling wins and losses, so it doesn’t affect the ranch books exactly. But it definitely affects us overall.”
Shayanne sounds resigned. “Brody and him got into it. I don’t know if you noticed, but Brody is a little bossy.”
I snort. That’s one way to put it. “Yeah, I noticed.”
Shayanne laughs a little, brightening some. “Well, he gets it from Daddy, so at least he comes by it honestly. Anyway, he told Daddy to pay his debts and then strongly suggested that if he’s gonna gamble, he consider just who he’s playing with and that any further windfalls be put toward paying off our ranch. I think that’s a good idea, so hopefully Daddy’ll listen.”
Brody Tannen, you just jumped up about a thousand points in my book. “Brody is really looking out for your family, isn’t he? I guess I’ve only seen him mad, so maybe my perception is skewed.”
Shayanne sounds a little shy suddenly and a bit apologetic. “I think we were all a little skewed. Daddy was telling us stuff about the Bennetts . . . I didn’t pay it much mind, but he was good at getting my brothers riled up. If the Bennetts were as bad as Daddy says, I don’t think Mark would’ve told him about ruffling feathers. Those debts . . . they’re not with nice people. But we’ll handle it.”
“I know you will. And you’re right, I don’t think Mark had bad intentions. That man definitely has a hard exterior, and although I’m not sure there’s a gooey caramel center like some romance-book hero, he’s at least got a sense of morals and a good heart. By the way, you totally just said Daddy says, and I’m smacking you when I see you.”
Shayanne laughs, and I’m glad to have lightened her day, even if only for a moment. Doc pops his head outside, calling my name before he sees I’m on the phone. He mouths, “Sorry,” and ducks back inside.
“Hey, if you don’t mind, duty calls . . . that’s D-U-T-Y this time, although I guess I don’t know if it’s D-O-O-D-Y yet. Gotta see what Doc needs.”
“I understand. Definitely no poop in my day, thank goodness. But I need to make dinner. I think I’ll go with Daddy’s favorite meat loaf and Brody’s favorite cheesy potatoes. Kinda smooth it over with happy, full tummies for both of them.”
I laugh. It seems country women have been doing kitchen diplomacy for centuries. “Hey, I’m glad you’re okay, honey. If you need anything, call me . . . anytime. Okay?”
We say our goodbyes, and I’m so relieved. It seems like Brody is a good guy after all, just one who is vehement about protecting his family. I can understand that.
Jake would do anything for me, and vice versa. Actually, more than once he has. Reminding myself that I need to give him a call sometime soon, I head inside, searching for Doc. All I have to do is follow the squealing sounds. Bacon is back with her owner, and she’s none too happy that Doc is disturbing her sleep.
“Hey, Doc. Can I help?”
He sits back, looking very frustrated with the cute little piggy he’s dealing with. “Yes please. I remembered that you and Ms. Bacon got along fabulously, so I thought maybe you could grab her without getting her so riled up. She’s not feeling very well apparently.”
“Of course.” I walk over to where she’s lying on the tile, pet her head, and coo, “Who’s my good little porker? That’s right, you are. Come here, P
rincess Bacon.”
As the pig calms, I gather her up with her blanket easily, and head toward an exam room. After a quick exam and question-and-answer session, we quickly deduce that Bacon isn’t feeling well because her owner is sprinkling shredded cheese on her food every day. The irony doesn’t escape me, considering what Shayanne’s going to feed her family later.
“She doesn’t need that much cheese. A nibble here and there, a few times a month is fine,” Doc tells Bacon’s visibly relieved owner. “But pigs need to eat pig food and veggies. Let me print you out a list.”
The owner squabbles a bit, trying to tell Doc that the pig food is just so boring. “How can you expect my baby to be happy with pig pellets and celery?”
Doc grins. “It’s pig food for a pig. It’s designed to give her the nutrients she needs. And she doesn’t know any better! If you want to treat her, do it with veggies. A healthy diet will keep her healthy, or you can just come see me every time she gets the shits from whatever crap you’ve been feeding her.” By the end of his rant, he’s obviously fed up with Bacon’s owner.
I bite my lip to contain my giggle, focusing my attention on Bacon as I pet her, feeling her belly for any distention. So, that’s why Doc wasn’t so mad at me about how I handled James after Briarbelle’s foal was born. He’s not terrible, but he’s definitely not the best at bedside customer service either when someone’s endangering their animal.
As Doc walks out to get the list of approved pig foods, I love on Bacon some more, chatting with her owner, who looks pouty. “If he wasn’t the only doctor in the county who handles pigs, I’d—”
“He’s a bit gruff, but he’s right,” I say soothingly. “It’s not a treat if it makes her sick. She seems to be feeling better now, though. Probably should stick with just the pig feed for a few days, no treats, so it’s gentler on her stomach. Then slowly, after a few days, you can add her Cheerios back in moderation, a few days after that, a single treat. Don’t worry, Bacon’ll still be happy, maybe more playful, and her poop’s going to smell a lot better.”
Buck Wild (Bennett Boys Ranch Book 1) Page 21
