Page 19 of Roads Behind Us
“This is a cattle ranch. If we’re sittin’, we’re not makin’ money.”
I laughed. “We ain’t made a penny yet, but it’s good you still got two workin’ legs.”
“Touché. By the way, why’d Athena name the bull Red Pepper?”
As he wheeled me under the shade of the big balsam tree halfway between my house and the new barn, the wheelbarrow’s tire hit a good-sized rock, and the creaky contraption tried to tip me into the dirt. I held onto the sides with a death grip and sucked in a breath. I released it slowly through my nose so my mouth would stay shut and the sharp stab of pain in my leg wouldn’t make me scream.
“Sorry,” Rye said, grunting and trying to tip me upright. “We really need to clear and level out this path. My fancy new Bobcat will do the trick. I’ll get started on it later today.”
Making a conscious effort to slow my heart, I answered, “’Cause Athena’s still angry with that damn bull for breakin’ my leg, and she hates red peppers. Give her green peppers or yellow, and she’ll eat the crap out of ’em, even raw, but red? No go.”
“Your daughter is weird,” he said.
I settled back into my rickety bucket and adjusted the crutches over my legs. “We refer to it around here lovingly as ‘unique.’”
He chuckled. “Seriously, she’s a really cool kid, Bax.” He parked me next to the open barn door and held out his hand to help me up as Figaro, Rye’s cattle-herding German Shepherd, came out of the barn to tug and bite at my good foot. “You’re doin’ a great job with her.”
“Thanks,” I said, ignoring the hand he offered. I gripped his forearm instead and used my own weight and momentum to launch my ass out of the wheelbarrow. Rye snapped his fingers at Figaro and pointed to the dirt, and Fig sat with his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. He was still a puppy, a big fucking puppy, but definitely a puppy.
But had I really been doing a good job with Athena?
Every other word out of my mouth was a curse. Even before I broke my leg, I rarely remembered to take the laundry out of the dryer. There were always dirty dishes in the sink, and our house was falling apart. My friends and family had been better parents than me since the Red Pepper incident, and I forgot about cross country and drama club. What else had I forgotten?
“So what’s up with Bea?”
“Oh, um, who?”
“You know who.”
“Nothin’s up,” I said. “She’s here to do a job. End of story.”
Rye laughed again. “Mm-hm. Sure that’s the end of it.”
Fig and I watched as Rye led his horse Blue from a stall into the barn aisle, then set about saddling him. Fig had already proven to be hell on four paws around the cattle, but around the horses, he was a perfect gentleman, maybe because Blue was side eyeing the dog, like he was thinking, “Get in my way, you squishy little fruit, and see what happens.”
I’d already caught Fig napping a few times, curled up with a couple of our calves in the sun. He fit in on the ranch like he’d always been here.
“Whatcha mean?” I asked.
“Bea’s a beautiful woman,” Rye said as he hefted his saddle onto Blue’s back.
“Mm.”
When he had it strapped down and tightened, he turned. His dirt-stained, tan hat shaded his eyes, but the pity was evident in them all the same. “You know it’s not wrong if you wanted to… date again.”
I shook my head as I reached for my own hat I’d left hanging from a hook by the door the day I broke my leg. I fixed it on my head and tugged on the brim to shade my eyes too. “Not ready.”
“Okay, if you say so. But still, it wouldn’t be wrong. Candy wouldn’t want you to be alone.”
“I’m not alone. I’ve got Athena.”
A rare flash of irritation crossed Rye’s face. “That ain’t what I meant, and you know it. And are you really gonna put that on a kid? All that weight?”
“What weight?”
“The weight of your happiness,” he said as he turned again and stepped his boot into his stirrup. But before he pushed up, he asked, “Need help before I go? I won’t be gone too long. I just wanna do a quick paddock check. One of the new heifers is due any day. Just wanna make sure everything’s goin’ okay.”
“I’m good.”
