Page 4 of His Fresh Start Cowboy
After giving his notice, Hugo spent every single second he had left at Clean Slate enjoying himself, interacting with guests, and spending time with his friends Miles and Shawn, who worked at the neighboring ghost town. He tried to have one personal goodbye conversation with each of his fellow horsemen; some were heartfelt while others were downright awkward. Hugo even went into San Francisco that Saturday night to hang out with his former roommate Slater and his friends. For old times’ sake.
Saying goodbye to Slater was bittersweet. They hadn’t been too friendly while they shared a cabin, but had gotten closer—ironically—after Slater broke his ankle and moved away. Hugo liked the older man and had no idea if their paths would cross again. His mental Magic Eight Ball said chances were good, especially if a wedding was in Slater and Derrick’s future. Hugo hoped he’d get an invitation.
He was somewhat surprised when, on the evening of his last day as a ranch hand, Judson and Patrice hosted a small going-away party for him in the guesthouse kitchen. He would truly miss this place where he’d worked for roughly two-and-a-half years but felt confident in his decision to go back to Texas. To try and fix things he’d left unattended for too damned long.
To try and finally make the nightmares stop by facing his bogeyman.
His now-former roommate Winston had volunteered to drive Hugo and his two small suitcases to the airport in San Jose the next morning, and they spent most of the hour-long drive in silence, only the radio playing for background noise. They weren’t close friends, but both Miles and Shawn had to work in the ghost town saloon that morning. They’d already said goodbye, anyway. Hugo’s stomach was a ball of acid, and he kept giving himself pep talks in his head. He’d never actually been on an airplane before, having made his journey from northern Texas to California via various buses and over several years. He didn’t know what to expect, other than being inside a pressurized metal tube at thirty-five thousand feet in the air, hurtling forward at five-hundred-fifty miles an hour.
Maybe he’d be early enough at the airport to grab a drink before he boarded.
The drink didn’t happen. He barely had enough time to check his bags, go through security, and get to his gate before boarding numbers were called. But he’d had a few minutes to text Shawn that he’d arrived at the airport safely. He’d miss the guy, who’d taught Hugo how to play chess. Hell, he’d miss everyone he’d worked with at Clean Slate, even if he wasn’t sure they’d all miss him. For all the odd jobs he’d had since leaving his hometown of Daisy, Texas, Hugo had truly felt at home there. Accepted and safe.
But he’d also grown up quite a lot around his Clean Slate family, and those men and women had given him the courage he needed to do this. To take this new step forward and go home, instead of constantly running.
He did indulge in one alcoholic drink on the flight, mostly because the takeoff left him an armrest-gripping fool who couldn’t relax until the airplane leveled out. He had purposely booked an aisle seat so he didn’t have to be near a window, and his row-mate gave him funny looks. Whatever. No way was Hugo going to admit to anyone his first flight on a plane was at twenty-seven. And it wasn’t as if he’d ever see the stranger again.
Since he was prone to motion sickness while reading in a moving vehicle of any sort, Hugo listened to podcasts on his phone and tried to keep himself calm. His last email with Wayne Woods had promised someone would be at the airport in Amarillo to pick him up but not specifically who. Part of Hugo hoped it would be Brand, but he doubted it. As foreman of the ranch, Brand had way too many duties to be bothered with such a mundane task as picking up a new employee.
Especially not a new employee he’d kissed once upon a time.
Brand wasn’t much on social media, beyond the few pages for the ranch and their rollout of organic, grass-fed beef, so Hugo had no idea if the guy was married, single, or whatever. And he’d never drummed up the courage to ask Colt these last two weeks. Colt had been kind and encouraging and had wished him well at the party last night. As far as anyone knew, this was just Hugo trying something new.
Only a handful of people knew about Buck.
The landing was almost as anxiety-inducing as the takeoff, but the plane finally taxied over to its terminal, and Hugo was free. If he did receive an invitation to an eventual wedding between Slater and Derrick, he’d just take a lot of vacation time and drive to California and back. Flying was just...nah.
It seemed to take forever for their bags to finally start cycling around the belt, and Hugo nearly missed grabbing his second case. Once he had his luggage, he followed foot traffic toward an exit and found himself in bright, if slightly cool, sunshine. He gazed around, curious who was supposed to be picking him up, expecting a cardboard sign with his name on it or something. Instead, a tall, broad body inserted itself in his path, and Hugo took a frightened step backward.
Remington “Rem” Woods grinned at him from beneath his Stetson, a strong mix of both his parents with a broad grin and blue eyes. “You son of a bitch,” Rem said cheerfully. “How the hell did I not notice you at Colt’s wedding? You were there, right?”
“I was there.” Hugo relaxed a fraction, because Rem seemed more amused than angry. “Back then I didn’t want my past to clash with my new start, so I did my best to avoid your whole family that weekend. I needed to be anonymous.”
“I get that. Might be still mad at you a little for working with my brother all this time and us not knowing, but I get it. You needed to stay safe.”
“Yeah.” Maybe Hugo had never told Rem about his huge crush on Rem’s big brother Brand, but Rem knew what had happened with Buck. Rem had been his metaphorical shoulder to cry on while Hugo made the difficult decision to leave his mother behind and find a safer place to live. To exist as a whole human being, rather than his stepbrother’s punching bag.
“And now you’re back. Talk about a crazy cosmic irony.” Rem took the handle of one of Hugo’s suitcases and led him toward the pickup area. “That you and Colt would end up working on the same ranch.”
“Yeah, it’s a kick in the head. But I’ve heard more than one person talk about the magic of the land back at Clean Slate. She puts people where they’re supposed to be at the right time. Judson can find someone to replace me, but it sounded like your dad was having problems with help.”
“It’s been hard, for sure, so even Dad’s been back in the saddle a lot, helping out with the herds.” Rem hefted his suitcase into the back of a pickup; Hugo did the same. “It’s not easy work, and ever since they opened up that new gristmill, it’s even harder to find folk for what we can afford to pay. But we’ve had some good turns.”
Rem didn’t elaborate on that until they were both in the cab of the truck, because other drivers needed their spot. “We’re doing pretty well with the wind farm Brand set up on the south pasture. And Weston is hosting this year’s county carnival, so that’ll bring folks into town. Mom’s already practicing her recipe for the chili cook-off.”
Hugo fondly remembered Rose Woods’s chili recipe. The perfect blend of savory, tender meat and spices, served over a bowl of white rice. He’d eaten a lot of dinners at the Woods kitchen while avoiding his home. And Buck. “And I’m sure Rose will win the blue ribbon,” Hugo said. “Never had a bad thing from her kitchen.”
“Mom is a fantastic cook.” Rem navigated his way out into traffic, and Hugo marveled at how easy it was to talk to his former best friend again. “I expect you’ll be eating with us quite a lot, unless you taught yourself how to cook. Elmer’s trailer is really basic.”
Hugo snorted. “I can cook enough not to starve, but yeah, I got the photos of the trailer. I appreciate the lead on a place to live close to work, but once in a while I’ll want more than a simple PBJ for dinner.” The trailer was actually a fifth wheel that had one bedroom, a tiny bathroom, and a kitchen that consisted of a two-burner stove, mini-microwave, and a dorm-sized refrigerator. Perfect for a single person but not exactly equipped for gourmet cooking.
Not unless he spent a lot of time on YouTube looking for tutorials on cooking with next to nothing.
“Cool, well, I’m sure Mom won’t mind.” Rem showed off the gold band on his left hand. “You ain’t gonna ask?”
Hugo chuckled, then coughed and kind of wished he’d asked to stop for a soda or something. They had about an hour’s drive to Weston and few places to get food along the way. “Tell me all about her, player.”
He vaguely remembered Shelby Waterson as an upperclassman. Hugo and Rem were two years apart, so Rem had known a lot of people Hugo didn’t normally hang out with, despite them all attending a fairly small county high school. She’d been the classic buxom blonde with a smile for everyone, and they’d apparently gotten married not quite nine months before their daughter, Susie, was born. Rem handed over his phone, and Hugo thumbed through a bunch of pictures of the small family. Susie was adorable with a strong resemblance to her mom.
