Page 1 of One Hot Summer

Chapter One

Carson

The screen door creaks as I step out onto the porch. I pause for a moment, savoring the quiet stillness before the day truly begins. My boots crunch on the gravel path as I make my way toward the barn.Another day.I rake a hand through my hair. Responsibility settles on my shoulders, but I welcome it. It is far better than the alternative - the crushing loneliness that usually consumes me.

The last few years have been tough, but my son makes it worthwhile. I’ll never give up knowing that he is watching me to show him how a man should act. I am the one constant in his life and right now I am solely responsible for the person he becomes. Being a parent is a gift and I’ll never take it for granted. And I only can only dream that one day I’ll get the opportunity to have a second child, maybe even a third.

As I near the barn, a small smile tugs at my lips. No matter how hard things get, the animals always bring me a sense of peace. I swing open the heavy wooden door, breathing in the comforting scents of hay and leather. Warm bodies shift in their stalls, eager for breakfast and attention.

“Good morning, beautiful,” I say, approaching Midnight's stall. The black mare tosses her head, dark eyes gleaming. Myhands move of their own accord, grabbing a brush and curry comb. As I tend to Midnight's coat, my movements are sure and practiced. Each stroke of the brush is an act of care, of connection. These animals rely on me, and trust me. I won't let them down.

My father and I used to work these stables together. The memories here are overwhelming and I am lucky enough to be able to make those same memories with my son. My past hasn’t been easy, and I’ve fucked up, but who doesn’t when they are young?

Moving down the line of stalls, I continue my morning ritual. Brush, check hooves, refresh water. The repetitive motions are soothing, allowing my mind to settle. Here, surrounded by the horses, I can simply be. No expectations. No pressure to be strong for everyone else. Just me finding my center in the heart of the land I love.

“Dad! Dad!” Collin's eager voice echoes off the wooden beams, his small boots thundering against the packed earth floor.

There’s my boy. I turn, a smile already tugging at my lips. “Whoa there, buckaroo.” I catch him as he barrels into me. “What's got you so fired up this morning?”

Collin's bright blue eyes, mirror images of my own, sparkle. “Can I help with chores today? Please?”

My heart swells as I ruffle his dark hair, so much like his mother's. “Sure thing, partner. Think you can handle it?”

He puffs out his chest. “I’m big enough now!”

“Alright then.” I fight back a grin. “Let's start with feeding time.”

We move together through the barn, our steps falling into an easy rhythm. I guide Collin's small hands as he measures out feed. “That's it, son. Nice and steady.”

Collin's face scrunches, his tongue peeking out between his teeth. My chest tightens at the sight, a bittersweet ache threatening to overwhelm me. It’s times like these I truly cherish. Showing my son how to do the things he will one day be doing on this ranch.

“You're doing great, kiddo. Want to help me with the water buckets next?”

As we finish up the last of the morning chores, I watch Collin dash out of the barn, his laughter echoing in the crisp morning air. “I’m gonna go play with Rusty!” he calls over his shoulder, referencing our old Australian Shepherd who has become his constant companion.

A bittersweet smile tugs at my lips as I lean against the weathered barn door, my eyes following his retreating form. The sight of him, all boundless energy and innocence, stirs something deep. My mind drifts, unbidden, to another time when laughter filled these fields.

Sarah's face floats before me, her eyes twinkling with the same mischief I now see in our son. The ache in my chest intensifies. I close my eyes. Things might have got bad at the end, but I did love her. I wish she would have trusted me.

“You'd be so proud of him,” I whisper to the empty air, my voice rough. “He's got your spirit, that's for sure.”

The sound of Collin's delighted squeals pull me back to the present. I watch as he and Rusty chase each other through the grass, their silhouettes backlit by the rising sun.

All of this done and it isn’t even seven in the morning yet. It is such a normal routine for me to be up and out of the house by five thirty. The work won’t do itself and I find it easier to get some of the smaller stuff done before Collin gets up and I get him ready for school.

I turn toward the ranch house, each step feeling heavier than the last. The wooden boards on the porch creak beneath my boots. This place is my sanctuary, my burden, my everything.

“Alright, breakfast won't make itself.”

I move to the fridge, pulling out eggs and bacon. As I crack eggs into a bowl, my mind drifts to the day ahead – fence mending in the north pasture, and a call to the feed store. So many things to get done. I want to have everything done before Kelsie arrives.

It’s been almost twenty years since I’ve seen her. Honestly, I am not sure if having her stay here is a good idea, but I couldn’t say no and leave her staying at a hotel. Not with everything that has happened to her. No one knows about our past except her best friend- not even her brother - and maybe it’s best if we keep it that way.

The toast pops up with a cheerful ding, startling me from my thoughts. I arrange the plates, making sure Collin's bacon is extra crispy, just the way he likes it. The simple act of caring for my son anchors me, giving purpose to each day. To be the best father and role model for him I can be.

As I pour juice into Collin's favorite cup – the one with the cartoon horses galloping around the rim – I smile. Despite everything, we are making it work. The ranch, this home, our little family of two – it isn't perfect, but it is ours.

“Dad! Dad!” Collin's excited voice rings out from the yard. “Can we eat outside today? Please?”

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