Roxi laughed. “You are such a mom.” But then she speared me with a look so full of disapproval, I felt it in my Keds. “And we arenotdone with this conversation.”
CHAPTER THREE
RYE
“Ryder, what’s goin’on with you?” my uncle Red asked. “You’ve been here two days. I know my little brother has his hands full this spring at the ranch, so I can’t imagine he’s happy you’re here.”
He stared me down as I sat on the stool behind his checkout counter in his outdoor adventure store, The Red Wild Outdoors, in the middle of downtown Wisper.
As soon as I’d been old enough to drive, working weekends at my uncle’s store was my escape from the ranch, and now, being surrounded by hunting rifles and bear-proof food storage felt like home.
I loved my job. Even as a kid, Graves & Sons Ranch provided new and exciting things for me to learn on a daily basis, but the older I got and the more capable, the more my dad made me feel like his employee and not his son.
My parents never really understood why I liked being around Red, but my uncle, even though he could be gruff, always looked out for me. He listened when I talked, and I was betting having me around sometimes eased the hole in his heart he’d caused when he pushed his son out of his life. He regretted it deeply. I’d always known that, and I was glad he’d finally begun tryingto make amends to my cousin, though it didn’t seem like those amends were getting him anywhere.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “I love havin’ you at my house, and I’ll never turn down your help here at the store, but aren’t you needed elsewhere?”
Red’s guest room was an absolute treat because it wasn’t a guest room at all but an extra place to store unwanted stock and was the size of a broom closet. The man never got rid of anything. I barely fit in there, and the “bed” was an old couch that smelled like mildew, which Idefinitelydidn’t fit on. My feet hung over the arm every night.
“Presley has it handled, and as long as the work’s gettin’ done, my dad don’t care where I’m at.”
“I doubt that.”
Flipping through an oldField & Streammagazine next to the cash register, I muttered, “Uncle Red, you can doubt it till the cows come home, but don’t hold your breath, and maybe grab a snack so you don’t starve while you wait.”
“Well, I am hungry.” Red turned to his shop manager. “Oscar, hold down the fort while we hit the diner?”
“’Course,” Oscar said as he rearranged a reusable water bottle display.
I still felt a little proud of the changes I’d helped Red make to his store last year. My friend Devo kind of forced him into his new personality, but “nice guy and friendly small-town business owner” suited him, as opposed to the curmudgeon he used to be. Devo’s mama had a little something to do with it too. Red and Liluye were still in the honeymoon phase of their love story, and she’d promised to overhaul Red’s guest room for when I came to stay, but they hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
“Can I bring you anything back?” Red asked Oscar.
“Sure. A BLT, please, but ask José for turkey bacon.”
I shuddered.Turkey is not bacon! Why the hell am I busting my ass farming cows if everyone wants to replace real meat with tasteless substitutes? Turkey bacon, Impossible beef, which is impossiblynotbeef, and fucking Tofurky? What’s next, vegetarian brisket? Shit, somebody probably already thought of that. But I bet if the beef was responsibly farmed, more people would eat it again.
“You got it, kid,” Red said with a smile.
“Thanks.”
“C’mon, Rye. Let’s get our feed bags on.”
Uncle Red opened both front doors wide and left them open since the day was sunny and warm. Letting the magazine flop down onto the counter, I followed on his heels, sulking.
He was right. I couldn’t hide out in Wisper much longer. But when I was here, I felt hopeful. I watched as so many people lived their dreams in this town. They took chances. They fell in love. They lived good lives. Wisper’s residents might not have been the richest or the most successful, but they seemed happy.
The community center was booming. The new bakery at the far end of Main Street was killing it with the best French pastries I’d ever tasted. Even my friend Bax was starting up a new venture on his sheep farm that he’d recently decided to turn into a rustic-rental-cabin getaway. So many people seemed to thrive in the small, mountain-town setting.
And that right there was the real reason I came to Wisper so often.
Aubrey George.
Except her bookshop didn’t seem to be thriving like all the rest.
I knew because every time I walked or drove by, I looked in the windows. And every single time, I saw Aubrey looking defeated and alone. Not a customer in sight.
The few times I’d gone in to see her after I asked her out and she shot me down, I’d asked her to order some books about modern agriculture that the local librarian had offered to procure for me so I could check them out, but if I bought them from Aubrey, I supported her business,andI got to see her twice—once when I put in the order and then when I picked up the books. She knew what I was doing, knew I was making excuses to visit her store, but she kept things professional. I had begun to think that maybe my goal of getting her to say yes to a date with me was hopeless.