Page 19 of A Mile of Ocean

When he finished with the horses, he took a moment to lean against the barn door, the weight of the past days pressing down on him. The ranch seemed to breathe around him, a living testament to the life his grandfather had built. And now, it was up to Trent to carry it forward.

The sound of footsteps drew his attention, and he turned to see Tate approaching. She handed him an iced coffee, theirfavorite drink this time of day, her eyes searching his face for any signs of the struggle he was so determined to hide.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip and savoring the taste.

“Anytime,” she replied, leaning against the door next to him. They stood in comfortable silence, the bond of shared grief and responsibility unspoken but deeply felt.

Eventually, Tate straightened, giving him a reassuring smile. “What do I do about Blake, Trent? I’ve known him my entire life. I love him, but not the way he loves me.”

“How often have you had ‘the talk’ and told him how you felt?”

“Half a dozen at least. I don’t want to hurt him, Trent. I suppose I wouldn’t mind if he stood guard at my door because I know Blake wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me. Not ever. Just like I know you wouldn’t. You’re doing a great job, by the way. All the guys are saying so.”

He chuckled at that and lifted a shoulder, but the words were a balm to his soul. “Praise? What is it you want?”

“I don’t want you to think I’m shirking my duties here. But the horses I mentioned in Colorado need rescuing. The ones we discussed last week. They won’t wait forever. I need a trailer, our longest one, and one of your guys to go with me to get them.”

“Can it wait until after the funeral?”

She slapped him on the arm in a playful gesture only siblings could appreciate. “After. Yes. I’ll wait until next week if that’s what you want. I just don’t want the ranch to become a burden to you. By the way, Savannah is smitten. Don’t neglect her because of this place.”

“Maybe I’m just as smitten.”

“You? What have you done with the real Trent Callum? Do tell. Just promise me you won’t let this ranch rule your life. Promise?”

“Promise. Now get back to work, or I’ll probably find a reason to fire you.”

“You wish,” she said as she headed to the haybarn to replenish the feed.

With renewed determination, Trent pushed off the door and returned to his chores, ready to face whatever the day would bring.

By mid-morning, the ranch was a hive of activity, with ranch hands bustling about, their work ethic a testament to Barrett’s management style. Trent exchanged brief nods and words of encouragement, each interaction a reminder that he wasn’t alone in trying to keep things running like before.

At lunchtime, he stopped at the kitchen in the main house to beg a plate of stuffed pepper casserole off Dolly. “Who made this one?”

“Bree Dennison. Have you seen your grandmother this morning?”

“No. Why?”

“I think she might’ve gone to Turtle Ridge.”

“If she’s out and about, that means she hasn’t taken to her bed again. That’s a good thing.”

“I suppose. But you know she’s feeling guilty because she didn’t know Barrett had been shot.”

“Her giving him CPR is what gave him more time to get to the ER and have surgery. No one knew the damage the bullet had done. She couldn’t have known that.”

“Talk to her. Make her understand it’s not her fault.”

“You’re probably better at making her understand something than I am. But I’ll ride up to Turtle Ridge and see if she’s there. Can I finish lunch first?”

“Finish eating. There’s peach cobbler for dessert that Jordan Harris brought by.”

He scooped up the rest of the casserole and set his eyes on the cobbler. “That looks delicious. Do we have ice cream to go with it?”

“Do you think Savannah cooks?” Dolly replied as she removed a carton of vanilla from the freezer.

Trent rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. It hasn’t come up yet in conversation.”

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