Page 56 of Eight Second Hearts

Unless that’s just the tension between the three men I stand with.

Bilbo doesn’t make a sound as he sniffs at the ground and runs around to do his business. He does wag his tail a little when Tripp walks by and pats his head, but that’s the extent of it.

“It’s our house,” Ram offers as explanation. “We built it once we started bringing in money from the rodeos.”

“You built it, or you had it built?” I ask curiously.

Ram meets my eyes. “We built it.” He raps his knuckles on the railing. “Every piece of this place was built by our hands.”

“That’s. . . really cool,” I muse. I can’t imagine building a house from scratch. Construction isn’t in my repertoire, but it’s something I’ve always been curious about.

Tripp unlocks the door and reaches in to flick on a porch light before flipping on more lights inside the house. I’m finally able to see the details of the house and realize that despite it being smaller than the main house, it’s still bigger than anything I’ve lived in before. I suppose if three grown men are going to live in it, it needs to be big enough to house them.

We walk inside, and though we weren’t expected, the place has clearly been cleaned recently. There’s not even any dust on anything. A large stone fireplace serves as the focal point forthe living room. A large set of bull horns is mounted above the mantle, serving as a statement piece. Right beneath it hangs a painting of a rodeo bull bucking, no rider on its back. The brown leather couches look broken in but not worn out, a plush fur rug in front of them. To the left, I can see into the open kitchen where everything looks newer than anything else. The stove looks like something you’d see in a restaurant kitchen rather than in a house. The fridge is the same. Hardwood floors span the entire house, but instead of the glossy look I’m used to, the wood looks more natural, polished but not shiny. I find I like it better than the normal design I’ve seen.

“This is cozy,” I say as I hold my stuffed bear against my chest and look around. On the walls, photos hang in pretty frames. When I peer closer at them, I find photos of each of the guys in their element, in the arena. Then there are the older photos, the ones where they’re all together, where they’re teenagers and then children. Even the photos of them as kids hold the tension they carry in their shoulders now. Tension they hadn’t carried before we came here.

What kind of weight falls on their shoulders when they come home?

“Sorry it’s small,” Tripp murmurs as I look around. “But there’s an extra room for you, so you’ll have privacy.”

I touch my finger to the photo of the three men in front of me, their smiles tight, their eyes haunted. Somehow, that’s captured perfectly in the photo.

“I grew up in a two-bedroom apartment that was smaller than most,” I reply as I stare at the photo. I smile over at Tripp gently to ease my next words. “This feels like a mansion in comparison. So, it’s fine. Really.”

He studies me, and when he sees I’m telling the truth, he nods and immediately goes over to the freezer. “One of them will show you to your room,” he says. He pulls open the door andlooks inside. He sighs and reaches in. His hand comes back out with a full bottle of what looks like whiskey. He closes the door and turns, tipping the bottle neck toward us. “If you need me, I’ll be on the back porch blacking out.”

He disappears out the back door, Bilbo on his heels. The screen door slams behind him as we all stare after his exit silently.

“Is he gonna be okay?” I ask softly, glancing at Ram and Beau.

Beau shrugs, but Ram answers. “Yeah, he’ll be fine eventually. He just has to go have a drink with his demons.” He reaches down and grabs my bag. “Come on. While Beau adjusts the thermostat so we don’t freeze tonight, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleepin’.”

“What about Tripp?” I ask, worried he’ll pass out by himself. “Aren’t there wild animals here to worry about?”

Ram tips his head toward me. “We won’t leave him out there. Don’t worry,periodista.” He opens the door to a room. “Try and get some rest. This place has a way of stealing your sleep once you see behind the curtain.”

I frown at him as he sets my bag on the bed. I don’t ask, but for fuck’s sake, I tuck it away to ask about later. Because the way they speak of this place. . .

It might as well be Hell. . .

Chapter 35

Indie

In the morning, I enter the living room to find all three men already meandering around. Beau is in the kitchen grinding coffee beans to make a pot of coffee. Ram is busy wiping down the counters, cleaning up as if there was dust I couldn’t see last night. Tripp is standing at the back door looking out of it, silently staring at the mountains in the distance. All three of them look like they hardly slept.

“Morning,” I say as I enter, not wanting to scare them. I wouldn’t want to become one of the ghosts that haunt them here.

I purposely don’t say, “good morning”. The way they’re acting, this doesn’t feel like a “good” anything. It feels heavy, and I’m reminded that we only came here because Tripp’s sister supposedly tried to sell the ranch without him. Whatever ghosts are here, that’s not the reason we’re in this house. It’s because of the family betrayal.

Tripp glances over his shoulder at me as I walk in. He doesn’t respond to my greeting. Dark circles ring his pretty blue eyes today, and it’s a shame. No man who looks like him should be so haggard.

“Mornin’, little outsider,” Beau says as he presses the brew button. He flashes me one of his award-winning smiles and it puts me a little more at ease. At least the clown can still smile. He’d scared me last night when he’d been somber. No one who makes a living out of laughter should feel so sad. “I’ll have coffee ready here in a few minutes.”

“I feel like we’re all gonna need that,” I admit while taking a seat at the kitchen bar. Bilbo comes over and lays his head on my lap, so I give him pets to let him know I do wish him a good morning. Dogs deserve every day to be good.

“You’re not wrong,” Ram admits. “However, we do have one happy stop before we attend to the business that brought us here.” His eyes crinkle. “My mom will have my head if we don’t stop by first.”

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