Page 102 of Where We Call Home

As I grabbed two glasses, my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I set the glasses on the counter and answered, tucking it between my ear and shoulder.

“Hello?”

“Hey, man,” Boone’s voice came through, rushed and urgent. “Hate to do this to you, but I need you back at the ranch. It’s bad—a calf’s tangled in the barbed wire. She’s panicked, and the vet won’t make it in time. She’s already torn part of the fence down, and the other cattle are starting to wander. I’m afraid they’ll break loose.”

“Shit,” I muttered, pouring milk into each glass while keeping an eye on Theo. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thanks. Sorry to pull you back like this.”

“No worries. I’m on my way.”

I hung up, stirring the drinks quickly and setting them in front of her. She watched me with a mix of curiosity and concern, an expression that was shadowed by something deeper.

“That was Boone,” I explained. “There’s an emergency at the ranch. I’ve gotta go. I’m not sure how long I’ll be.”

“Oh shit,” she murmured, worry flickering in her eyes. “I hope everything’s okay.”

“Theo,” I said gently, placing a hand on her arm. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, I thought she might tell me. Instead, she nodded. “I’m fine. Go. Boone needs you.”

I hesitated, my gut telling me not to leave her like this. Theo gave me a small, encouraging smile, her hand resting on my forearm.

I leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

As I turned to leave, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Boone wasn’t wrong—this was bad. The poor calf was tangled so tightly in the barbed wire that for a moment, I stood there unsure how I could even begin to help. The storm didn’t make it any easier. Rain poured in unrelenting sheets, drenching everything and turning the dirt beneath my boots into a slick, treacherous mess. Thunder rumbled low and ominous, a promise that the worst was yet to come.

Right now, the priority wasn’t the calf—it was the fence. I couldn’t risk the rest of the herd spooking and bolting. Slamming the shovel into the wet ground, I dug a new hole for the replacement post, mud splattering my jeans and boots with every movement. Boone had managed to get the calf to drier ground, working to untangle the barbs while coordinating with the vet over the phone. With the storm rolling in, the vet’s arrival would be been delayed.

“Rhodes!” A voice cut through the storm, faint and unfamiliar at first.

I froze, my hands gripping the shovel tightly as I squinted into the downpour. The rain blurred everything, but I could make out a figure running toward me, their movements frantic.

“Rhodes!” they called again, louder this time, and my heart stuttered. It wasn’t Boone. This voice was feminine, urgent.

Dropping the shovel, I shielded my eyes with one hand, trying to make sense of the scene through the chaos of rain and wind. The figure grew clearer, a bright pink raincoat, hood pulled tight against the storm.

“Aspen?” I called, disbelief lacing my voice. What the hell was she doing out here in this weather?

By the time she reached me, she was out of breath, her face partially hidden beneath the hood. “What are you doing here?” I demanded, grabbing her arm and dragging her under the shelter of a massive weeping willow. The thick branches offered little relief from the downpour, but it was better than nothing.

“Have you checked your phone?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“No. Why?”

She yanked her hood down, revealing a pale, frightened face. Water streamed down her cheeks, though whether it was from the rain or something else, I couldn’t tell.

“It’s Theo,” she said.

Time stopped. The rain, the wind, the thunder, all of it faded into a hollow, numbing silence. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else.

“She’s been trying to call you,” Aspen continued, her voice trembling.

Fumbling, I pulled my phone from my back pocket, swiping at the screen to clear the water. Twenty missed calls stared back at me, Theo’s name flashing in all of them.

“Wha-whats going on?” I muttered, my voice cracking as I looked back at Aspen.

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