Reid, ever oblivious, continues to chat, clearly thrilled to have something to talk about. “Yeah, I met her at The Old Mill. She’s got this whole vibe, you know? Kind of mysterious but friendly. She’s got a kid, too. Cute little guy. I want to ask her out, is all.”
Clint’s hands tighten around the tool he’s holding.
I’m not sure if he’s trying to break it or if he’s just trying to keep from snapping. He’s holding something in, and the pressure’s building.
Reid looks at Clint. “Do you know her? She went to high school here.”
I watch Clint closely. He’s standing just a little too still, his eyes narrowing sharply. His jaw sets even tighter, and then, as if realizing how quiet it’s gotten, he finally fully looks at Reid.
“Yeah,” Clint finally mutters, “I know her.”
The way he says it sends a ripple of unease through me. It’s not just a casual acknowledgment. No, there’s a history there.
One Clint’s clearly not eager to talk about, but damn, it’s there.
Not good.
Especially if Reid wants to ask her out.
“We should get back to work, right?” I interject, needing to concentrate on what’s important here. I’ve never known them to fight over a woman before, and I don’t want it to start now. “We need to get this fence back up.”
They nod and agree with me, but I can’t shake the feeling that this is trouble, and that it’s going to come back up again. I just hope it doesn’t add to the stress of the ranch.
We have enough going on as it is.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dakota
Days have passedin a blur of boxes, dust, and memories I can’t seem to escape. The house feels even more suffocating now that I’m here again.
I never thought it would be like this.
I can’t even get anything done for work because the Internet isslow. It’s almost utterly unbearable.
The smell of old wood and stale air clings to everything, and it presses down on me like a hundred-pound blanket.
But it’s what I have to do. I have no choice but to clear it all out, or I’ll never sell this place.
I wipe my hands on my jeans, brushing away the dust from an old bookshelf I’m sorting through. There are boxes piled high in every corner, filled with things I should have gotten rid of years ago.
Old furniture, broken trinkets, and photos I haven’t dared look at in a long time. My grandfather’s life is now reduced to piles of junk.
Junk and a box that is giving me a sense of déjà vu, and I don’t know why…
I grab it, lifting the lid of a box, the cardboard creaking under my hands, and inside I find an assortment of old photographs.Some are of me as a little girl, back when my world was still small and simple, before I made the decision to leave Colter Creek. Before the past started to grow heavy.
I pull out one photo in particular. It’s from the summer I turned ten. There’s a wide smile on my face, my hair a mess of curls, and I’m holding up a fish, grinning like I’ve just caught the biggest one in the river.
My grandfather’s standing beside me, his arms crossed, and that same proud smile on his face.
I hold the photo in my hands for a moment, my fingers tracing the edges, feeling the weight of it in a way that’s almost physical.
It’s strange how the past can feel so far away, and yet so close. The ache of it is sharp, a quiet sting in my chest.
Charlie breaks through my thoughts, his small form appearing in the doorway. “Mama, what’s that?”
I glance up, forcing a smile as he walks over to me, his bare feet making soft slaps on the floor. I show him the photo, and his curious blue eyes widen with interest.
