Duke opens the gate and holds it for me. “She’s uncomfortable, and sleep is hard to come by. But we’re getting really excited. Starting to feel real, you know?”
I give his shoulder a squeeze. “You’re gonna be a great daddy.”
“Appreciate you saying that.You’regonna be toast if you don’t help out around here while I’m gone.”
“Just because I’m being nice doesn’t give you permission to be a dick.”
His smile is back. “Love ya, brother. You make any headway with Colt?”
“Nope. Not for lack of trying, though. We’re both reaching out all the time—me and Billie. He always was a stubborn motherfucker, but this…” I let out a low whistle. “It’s a whole new level.”
“He’ll come around.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
Duke grabs my arm. “Hewillcome around, Ry. He isn’t gonna stay mad at y’all forever. He can’t. You mean too much to him. I can’t imagine cutting someone out of my life because they fell in love with my sister. That’s some bullshit right there.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“Is it, though?” Sighing, he looks away. “If he don’t come around soon, I’ll be having some words with him.”
“Please don’t. I know you’re just trying to help?—”
“The longer he’s pissed, the more he’s gonna regret it down the road. Think about everything he’s missin’ out on—his best friend and his sister just found their soulmates in each other. Is there anything better than that? Makes me wonder if he’s jealousof y’all.” Duke closes the gate behind us. “Now quit messin’ and let’s get this done.”
Prepping for winter is…not my favorite. It’s nice having pretty much everyone we know on hand to help, but that means the days are total chaos. The new ranch hands need a lot of guidance. Despite the fact that we’re well into autumn, the sun is hot, and I’m soaked through with sweat by the time the lunch bell rings.
Everyone is exhausted, and tempers fray. John B and Cash get into it when John B takes a hoof to the face while wrangling a calf into submission.
I get kicked square in the stomach by an especially ornery Friesian horse. The surprise of it is the worst part, but it still knocks the wind out of me.
I get shit on. Lose my grip on a rope, and it ends up giving me a good burn on my wrist. Sweat rolls down my face and drips into my eyes.
I can tell by the way the skin on my nape and forearms smarts that I’m sunburnt even though I’m wearing 70 SPF.
Never mind the fact that Wyatt keeps an eye on me all day, like heknowsI’m gonna bolt the second I’m able to sneak away.
Makes keeping an eye on my phone pretty damn difficult. Billie is supposed to present her idea for the animal therapy program to her parents today, and I’m dying to know how it went.
I love my job. Always have. But some days, the physical misery of this work makes you question all your life decisions. Your sanity too.
By the time I climb into my car at quarter to four that afternoon, my back is shot, and I’m caked in mud, sweat, and God knows what else. I stink to high heaven, so I roll down the windows on the drive over to Billie’s place.
No word from her yet. I can’t tell if that’s a good sign or a bad one.
She’s not home when I get there, so I grab a shower. Shiver at the sheer pleasure of putting on clean, comfy clothes. Mrs. Wallace stopped making supper every night once her brood moved out, so the family doesn’t eat together seven days a week the way we do.
Honestly, it’s kind of a relief. I very much look forward to staying in tonight with Billie. I’ll make something easy and quick for dinner—breakfast tacos with that leftover chorizo we made for brunch yesterday?—and we can eat on the couch while zooming through some episodes of our current obsession,The Great British Bake Off.
Paul Hollywood’s gruffness reminds me so much of Cash that it kinda freaks me out.
My hamstringsscreamas I bend down to pull a pan out of a drawer in the kitchen. I turn on some Nirvana and make dinner.
Only when I glance at my phone do I realize how late it is. After six, which for us might as well be ten p.m.
Billie is home without fail by four thirty every day.
My stomach drops.Something’s wrong.
