Red grins and watches me as I claim a stool at the small kitchen island I put in last week. With the family and the ranch continuing to get bigger, we needed more space and places to sit. Looking down, I swipe my hand over the smooth lacquered surface.
"You and the countertop gettin’ acquainted again?" he muses. "It's definitely some of your best work."
“I was just thinkin’ that it might just be better than the one I did in Rhett's cabin."
"Anything you make is good, Austin. It's cause you love doin' it and the passion you have for it comes out in the end. Thinkin' it gives you a bit of peace too. Especially when you squirrel yourself away in that shed of yours."
He's not wrong. Growing up in a big, busy family, it was always loud and raucous with us four boys plus Tess running around. One day, Dad told me we were going on a drive to a timber mill up in the hills. Since I loved spending time with my dad, I jumped at the chance. What I didn't know is that it would be the day I’d fall in love with timber, the trees they came from, and what I could do with it. When we got back home, Dad suggested we build Mom a birdhouse to hang from her favorite tree in the front yard.
Since Christmas was coming, I figured Dad was just wantin’ to make her somethin' special. But as we worked together in his workshop, spendin’ the time to measure and cut and sand the wood to perfection, I realized that this wasn't just about the gift. It was Dad sharin’ his skills and knowledge with me.
That day ignited a passion within me for woodworking and recycling things from the earth into something new.
Giving them a new lease of life–or another chance, if you will. Since then, I've found solace in my workshop and have continued to make things—like benchtops for Rhett’s cabin and the main house and a bed frame for Landry and Star’s cabin. It has also come in handy when rebuilding and restoring the ranch since it was neglected and in need of a lot of maintenance when we bought it.
"Definitely not complainin’ about havin' your talent with wood at our beck and call. This house, the cabin, the bunkhouse, none of it would be as nice as they are today without you and you’re your woodworkin’.”
I tilt my head and narrow my eyes suspiciously. "You butterin' me up or somethin’?"
"Me," he gasps. "Would I do that?" His slow-growing smirk spreads across his weathered face.
I chuckle. "You're a sly one, Red. Not at all subtle, but I appreciate the kind words all the same."
He turns off the stove and grabs a mug for himself, joining me at the island. "Thinkin' we might be seein' some new calves soon."
Glancing at the calendar hanging on the wall, my brows slowly arch. "That's a bit early."
"Yeah, but it's from the main herd, not the stud calves we're expectin'. Noticed a few of them swishin’ their tails and archin' their backs when I was spreadin’ out their hay this mornin’. Their bellies are lookin’ a little smaller too which means...”
"They'reliterallyabout to pop," I finish. "You need help movin' them? I can stay behind if you want"
He fixes me with a stare. "I'm sure the rest of us can wrangle a few soon-to-be mamas into the barn. Give them a bit of comfort before they give birth. You tryin’ to get out of helpin’ Charlie?”
I roll my eyes, not needing to ask how he already knows my plans for the day. "No.” He levels me with a disbelieving stare. “No. I’m guessin’Magshas been blowin' up your phone?"
Red tries–and fails–to pull off an innocent, shocked expression, and just laughs under his breath. "Can't get nothin' by you, can I?"
"Nope. It's not even worth tryin', old man. You should know that by now."
"Yeah, yeah," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "You and her have history, I hear."
"More like somethin' that never started and was more than just a little bit one-sided, you mean."
Red hums thoughtfully, rubbing his chin but not saying anything.
"Hmm?" I say, arching a brow.
“You sure about that? The one-sided part? You were best friends, from what I hear. Thick as thieves and pretty private about that. Kept each other to themselves and all that. But you’re not answerin’ my question.”
“It was good. We were close. Then we drifted apart. The end.”
“Andthat’swhat myhmmwas about. If someone’s that important to you, you don’t just ‘drift apart.’ I’m guessin’ you didn’t tell her you wanted more and she didn’t say anythin’ either?”
“Char and I would tell each other everythin’.” He arches a brow and that’s enough to have me pressing on. “So, I figured she’d have told me if she was interested in me in that way. Orshownme in some way.”
“OK. What else you got?”
“Secondly, have youmether? She was always meant for so much more than this small town could ever offer her and she’s proven me right with that. Travelin’ the countryandthe world. By all accounts, she’s made the most of it and achieved alotin the fifteen years she’s been gone.”
