Page 17 of Stay for Me

Year Three. Hallow Ranch.

“Mags!”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Hell was likely going to freeze over before I could finish tending to my damn horse.

I looked over my shoulder to find Beau headed for me, the gravel crunching underneath his boots. There was a look of worry painted across his face, and something in my gut twisted. There were a lot of things in this world I didn’t like, and that look in Beau’s eyes was one of them. As he drew closer to me, my eyes shifted, looking over to his girlfriend, Abbie, standing by the bunkhouse. She was talking to Jigs, using her hands to explain something as the old man laughed.

Clearly, whatever Beau was concerned about wasn’t bad enough for them to worry.

“Denver needs you up at the house,” Beau said once he was a few feet from me, throwing his thumb over his shoulder.

I looked up at his face, waiting for an explanation. By now, he should’ve known I needed one.

He took off his hat and sighed. “It’s bad, Mags. Caleb’s mom is stirring up her usual bullshit.”

Of course, she fucking was.

Grunting, I looked back to Midnight’s horseshoe and hammered in the final nail before lowering it back to the ground. “There you go, girl,” I muttered, dusting my hands off and rising to my full height. I gave my horse a few pats and turned to face Beau. “Is she up there with Kings?”

Kings, as I’d come to learn, had been Denver’s call-sign in the Marines. This discovery was made when Denver invited everyone up to the house for dinner one night a year or so ago. Jigs, Beau, and I shared a good meal with our boss, and when the sun had set, Denver brought out an old bottle of his father’s whiskey. Jigs and Beau went back down to the bunkhouse, and my boss shared his story with me. I’d been working for him for a little over a year back then but we barely knew each other. I stuck to my roll and he stuck to his. It was simple—peaceful.

However, as Kings’ son, Caleb, started growing, I noticed the rancher craved connection, someone to talk to.

So that night, I let him talk to me, and I listened to every word.

By the time he was done, I knew about his childhood, the tragic loss of his mother, the fallout with his brother, and shit he had to deal with regarding Caleb’s mother, Cathy. She was a fucking piece of work, and no one on this ranch could stand her.

I was happy to find out I wasn’t alone in that. From the moment I saw her, I knew what kind of woman she was: a leech.

“No, she isn’t here. I would’ve sent her on her way already,” Beau said.

Thank fuck for that. I couldn’t stand the sight of Cathy. She was nothing but trouble, the kind of trouble that rotted you from the inside out.

“Alright. I’ll get Midnight put up and head up there,” I said as I wiped my hands with my bandana before tucking it into my back pocket.

The young cowboy stared at me, frozen solid. “I think that’s the most words you’ve said to me in three years, Mags.”

I said nothing, ignoring his sarcasm as I turned to grab Midnight’s reins and head into the barn.

“It was a good talk, Mags! We should do it more often,” Beau called out to my back as the sun beat down on it, irritating the sunburn on the back of my neck. Annoyance filled me then, and I had half a mind to break his jaw for being such a smartass. Sadly, I mentally reminded myself his mouth was half of his fucking charm. He, along with everyone else on the ranch, was always trying to bust my balls for not talking, but there was no reason to talk if I had nothing to say.

Majority of the time, I just didn’t have anything to say.

Once Midnight was put up, I gave her some fresh hay and an apple for being a good girl today. She neighed, the sound echoing through the barn, exciting the other horses as I gave her one more pat on the neck.

“Get some rest,” I murmured, looking into her black eyes. In the stall next to her, Ranger stuck his head out, searching for an apple. I shook my head at him before giving him one.

Minutes later, after all the horses were given a treat, I headed back out in to the sun to find Jigs, Abbie, and Beau nowhere in sight. Twisting my neck, I noticed Beau’s old truck wasn’t behind the bunkhouse anymore.

I’d been so focused on the horses, lost in my own head, that I didn’t even hear the truck start up. I’d knew they’d be leaving soon. It was Friday night and Jigs always took the couple to dinner somewhere in town so the three of them could catch up. Still, it bothered me that I didn’t hear Beau’s truck.

Maybe it had finally happened—I’d truly lost my mind.

Shaking my head, I shut the barn doors and locked up for the night. I turned to head up the hill to the main house and stopped in my tracks, my heart coming to a stop nearly as fast as my boots.

There, parked next to Denver’s old Chevy, under the old oak tree, was a navy blue Honda civic. There was only one person in my world who drove a piece of shit like that. And just like that, my day went to shit.

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