Page 8 of Since Day One

“Why now? After spending how long telling me that this world would never allow me to amount to anything?”

She stepped back, crossing her arms in front of her. “You need to get that delusional thought out of your head. We never said that.”

I nodded, jamming the wall back up around the emotions I’d been prepared to feel. “Is all this because of Marissa?”

“Why do you assume that?”

Sighing, I knew that it was and didn’t need to hear anything else. “I need to put my suitcase into the bunkhouse and head down to the barn.”

Her cheeky grin fell from her face. “Follow that path between the lodge and the bunkhouse. It’ll be the one with all the lights on.” And my mom left me standing alone in the middle of the dirt path.

Chapter 4

Iwas determined to not let all of this drama get in the way of enjoying time at someone else’s ranch. A ranch that apparently produced top-tier cutting horses. Maybe I could convince Gunnar to even teach me a little bit before I left after this month was up. There was no way I was willing to let this opportunity pass by without growing in my horsemanship in some way. Definitely not because of someone else’s decisions.

Whatever reason Marissa had used to convince them to give this a shot, I would turn it into something beneficial for me. Closure, maybe, but new adventures? Absolutely. I kicked at a larger stone with the toe of my boot as I walked toward the gray barn. I’d taken a minute to change from sneakers into my broken-in, square-toe cowboy boots and added an extra warm layer underneath my black sweatshirt.

Taking a mental note to ask Gunnar to drive me back into town to purchase a Carhartt coat from the feed store, I rounded the bend and stopped in front of the white door that led inside the barn. I could hear the sound of muffled voices behind the door as I reached forward, pushing against it.

There was a slight film of hay dust lingering in the air, with a truck parked in the center with bales stacked three high across the trailer in tow. The guys were standing on one side, the girls on the other, and a thinner version of Gunnar stood at the very front of the truck. Instead of hazel, his eyes were blue, and his hair a little lighter than Gunnar’s.

Aside from being clean-shaven, many of the man’s facial features matched Gunnar’s—his jawline was just as intense, and his brows were just as strong. It had to be Ruger. I snuck around the backside of the trailer as he shouted that whoever got the most bales stacked on their side would win. Dinner would be right after this as well. As I made it to the end of the line of girls, several of my cousins shot me surprised glances. Before anyone could say anything, however, Gunnar’s brother raised his voice. “Go!”

The guys had three bales flung off the trailer by the time Marissa collected everyone’s attention. Thick, dark black hair draped past her shoulders and down her back in long waves. I pulled the ponytail out of my hair as she told everyone that she would help us win this. Whipping it into a high messy bun, I walked forward quietly and gripped the first bale.

Hoisting it off of the side, it slammed into my body, but I marched over to the wall, left a little space, set it down, and went back to the trailer. Marissa glared at me, finally finishing her instructions, and directed two of my cousins on what to do.

I continued to silently work, wanting to ride tomorrow, and ignored as the two girls attempted to simply roll the hay off the side. They tried to roll a square bale, which clearly did not work, and one of my cousins tripped, falling on top of the hay. The other one finally huffed and attempted to hoist it upright but was unable to make the bale budge.

Casually, I tossed another one to the stack and jumped back up on the trailer. Marissa adjusted her Carhartt coat, and kept an eye on me, batting her thick, mascara-clumped lashes in annoyance as she had both of my cousins join in together to finally lift their first bale.

But I just worked. Bale after bale, ignoring the pulsing sting on my injured finger, pulling down, stacking, and back to the trailer. Rhythmical hard work, but something I was familiar with, and my muscle memory took over. The trailer was slowly emptying of bales as I worked my way forward. The rest of my family slowly—finally—getting some sort of rhythm.

Until there were only two bales left.

Not wanting to lose, I jumped onto the trailer and came face to face with my father’s intense, cold gaze. We paused, engaged in a silent psychological battle that I refused to back down from. Then, for the first time in my life, I saw a slight sparkle of humor flash through his eyes, and my competitive side kicked in. Barely beating him to the bales, I grabbed one and shoved it over the side of the trailer toward the girls before swinging back around for the last one.

My fingers wrapped around the baling twine before his, and I grinned in triumph. He gave me a small nod of defeat before I carried it off of the trailer and stuck it on the top of our last stack.

The girls cheered as Ruger clapped his hands, and I hoisted myself onto the new stack of hay, sitting down with a slight smile. My eyes drifted toward the door I’d come through to find Gunnar leaning against the frame, quietly observing. Shadows danced across his broad shoulders, shrouding his face in darkness until he lifted his chin and met my gaze.

A simple wink was offered and then the hat covered his hazel eyes once more.

“Alright!” Ruger announced, his voice a little higher pitched than Gunnar’s. “Looks like, surprisingly, the ladies get the first ride tomorrow. Congratulations! Now, y’all can head on down to the lodge. Dinner is waiting. You can eat inside or head on out to the firepit if you’d like.”

It was difficult to tell who was older as he jumped down from the truck and everyone began to wander out of the barn. Marissa shot me a dirty look, others merely offered a tight-lipped smile, while some completely ignored me as they exited. Not wanting to entangle myself in their stiff world, I remained seated on the hay.

It was during moments like this that I wished I had a sibling who might at least share some sympathy with me. Even the fact that all my grandma did was give me a single pat on the shoulder cut to the core. My mother ignored me completely, giggling with Marissa’s little sister, and then the barn was empty.

“Where the hell did you come from?” Ruger asked, standing beside me and tipping his chin. “Especially with that injured finger.” He stopped against some hay and stuck a stem between his teeth.

“Sorry?”

“Are you a new hand that my brother hired? ‘Cause that’s cheating,” he answered, a smile lifting his cheeks. His dimples weren’t quite as deep set as Gunnar’s.

“This is Willow,” Gunnar spoke up, coming to stand on the other side of me. “The girl mama sent me to pick up from the airport today.”

“Well, damn, are you sure you’re related to everyone else? That was insane.” Ruger grinned.

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