Page 42 of Wannabe in Wyoming
Willow managedto control her tears until she’d driven all the way home and parked her truck in the driveway. As soon as the engine shut off, there was no holding them back. Sobs ripped from her throat, as she rested her head against the steering wheel.
She felt like her heart was splitting in two––half was here with her and the other half just boarded a plane for Kansas. She knew she’d see him again––hell, he’d promised to Skype that night––but now that she’d had him in her home and in her bed, she wanted him there always.
She cried until her head was pounding and her face throbbed. Her chest ached, both with physical and emotional pain. If Nathan knew she’d broken down like this, he’d be as devastated for that as she was over him leaving. Her one comfort was knowing their separation was temporary. He wasn’t going overseas again, and as soon as his exit paperwork was finished, he’d be done with the Army. She hadn’t been brave enough to ask him to live here with her, a decision she was regretting now.
The truck was still running, and the radio began to play “Here Without You” by 3 Doors Down. Screeching in frustration, she smashed the buttons until the song stopped.
“Now, darlin’, is that really how you should be treating this fine truck?”
“Ack!” Yelping in surprise, Willow clutched her chest. Jeremiah stood outside her open window with his hat tipped back on his head and his thumbs tucked into the pockets of his Wranglers. He looked like a gay ginger extra from a John Wayne film.
“Fuck right off! Holy shit you scared me!”
He snorted. “I’m not surprised. You were sitting there with the radio blasting, crying like your dog died. A herd of elephants could be stomping through here with a high school marching band and the naked cast ofMagic Mike, and you wouldn’t have noticed a damn thing. And not noticing the strippers would’ve been a sin, by the way, darlin’.” Stepping forward, he rested his forearms on the door, leaning down so he could look her in the eyes. “He went back today.”
It wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyway. Just thinking about Nathan being gone made her tears well up again.
“Come on, Willow-girl. What you need is a distraction. And I’ve got just the thing.” Opening the truck door, he didn’t wait for her to climb down. He just grabbed her hand and pulled her from the vehicle and into his arms for a brief hug. “You have horses and those fluffy things arriving soon, and I’m here to help figure out what renovations we need to do to the barns. I even have a notebook.” He pulled a battered, black-and-white composition book from his back pocket. He’d folded it in half to get it into the tight spot, but from the state of the deeply creased cover, that was a regular occurrence.
“Jesus, what did you do to that poor thing?” She looked at it aghast, offended that he’d treat a book that way, even one that was meant to be written in.
Glancing down at the book and then back up at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What? I have to fold it, otherwise it won’t fit in my damn pocket. It’s not like I’ve got a free hand to be carrying it around. Book in one pocket, work gloves in the other.” Shrugging, he dismissed the subject and looped his arm through hers. “Come on, rancher woman. We’ve got a barn renovation to plan. Lucky for you, you’ve already got two barns. This would be a bitch if we had to build one too.”
He drew a laugh from her against her will, and it was then that she realized he’d planned this, knowing she’d be upset after dropping Nathan off at the airport. Walking along with him to the smaller of the two barns, she was grateful to have him in her life and told him so. “I’m so glad I met you. I don’t know where I’d be without you right now. The ranch, everything.” He stopped in his tracks and met her gaze, the apples of his cheeks stained with a deep blush. Rising on her toes, she pecked a kiss on his stubbled cheek. “Thanks.”
“Now, now, Willow-girl, you know I like boys,” he jested, before getting them moving again.
Laughing, she bumped his hip with hers. “Make that one boy in particular. You couldn’t keep your eyes off a certain foreman the other day. Even if he did piss you off at the rodeo.”
She didn’t think it was possible, but his blush deepened further. “You’re seeing things––your lust–addled brain is making you hallucinate.”
“Sure, I hallucinated you looking at his ass like it was a side of beef and you were craving a steak.” Rolling her eyes, she added, “Just admit it. You’re here to distract me and cheer me up, right? Well, I’ll be distracted by talking about your crush on Dale. I don’t blame you by the way. God was having a good day when he sculpted that man.”
They’d reached the barn, and he pulled open the pedestrian door, waving for her to enter before him. “Like I told you when we first sorted through everything, all the basics are here. But you’ll need to pour concrete, add stalls, a tack room, better lighting, and radiant heat. You’ll also need a contractor to double-check the roof and supports on the loft. You’ll be storing hay, alfalfa, and grain up there for the horses, and it’s gotta be kept dry—don’t want any mold creepin’ in.”
“Hmph. You’re changing the subject. Fine, fine, I’ll let it go for now, lover-boy.” Following him as he strolled through the gloomy barn, she took a good look around. When she’d first moved to the ranch, she’d done a walk-though but deemed this building as a future project and not a priority. It’d previously been used for storage, housing tractors, broken farming equipment, and in general, junk. Jeremiah and his ranch hands had cleaned out everything that wouldn’t be of use to her, which had been most of it, and had it hauled away for scrap metal. Now, the building stood empty yet filthy. Cobwebs hung in long swaths from the rafters, and dirt and animal droppings covered the hard-packed floor.
“If we pour concrete, won’t we need to install drains too?” She kicked the toe of her boot through a clod of dirt, breaking it apart.
“Sure, but that’s easy enough. You’ll need to hire out the concrete, that’s not something we can do, but my hands and I can add in stalls here, here, and here.” He kept talking and pointing, pausing only to jot down notes in his book. She hadn’t noticed the tape measure on his belt until he pulled it free and told her to hold one end while he began to measure and take even more notes.
“You’re good at this,” she commented.
“Sure. It’s a necessary skill. Easier and cheaper to build or repair it yourself on the ranch, instead of hiring people every time you need something done. I’ve been fixing fence and building decks and barns my whole life. This ain’t nothin’.” He waved a hand, encompassing the space around them. “Once the concrete is down, we’ll have this barn ready for horses and feed in two days, tops.”
“Why aren’t you a carpenter then, if you enjoy it so much?” Willow asked, releasing the end of the tape measure at his nod. She knew he liked to whittle and had a wood-working shop in one of the several barns on his property where he’d make and fix things. Not that he’d ever allowed her, or anyone for that matter, inside it.
“Well, I never thought about it. I come from a long line of ranchers. It’s in my blood. It’s like . . .” he paused, writing something else down before continuing, “just because you love reading, doesn’t mean you want to be a librarian, right? It’s a hobby––one I enjoy––but ranching is my life. It’s in my soul.”
She smiled at him, placing her hand over her heart. “You, Jeremiah, secretly have the soul of a poet. Dale is sure going to appreciate that when you’re having pillow talk.”
His face flamed bright red, and Willow laughed until her stomach hurt. Every time she thought she could get it under control, one look at his admonishing expression had her in hysterics again. Bending double, holding her sides, she roared until tears streamed down her face, and she was sure she was going to pee her pants any second. Gasping for air, she straightened and wiped her tears. “Oh God, Jeremiah, I do adore you. I needed that. You should have seen your face!”
“You are a wicked, wicked, evil woman, Willow Crawford.” He tried to sound angry, but his smile spoiled it. “Fine, yes, Dale is sexy as fuck, and I wanna ride him like Seabiscuit. Probably after I punch him in his stupid, handsome face. Does that make you feel better?”
“Ha! Yes!” Offering her hand, she gave her best friend a high-five, and her heart felt lighter than it had since before she’d stood at the airport watching her soul mate walk away.
The sound of a car engine coming down the drive drew her attention. Walking out of the barn, she was surprised to see a florist delivery van, painted bright blue with flowers all over it, with the name, Pickin’ Peonies, in curling pink script on the side. The Rock’s only flower shop was located in a small nursery on the way out of town heading toward Butterfield. The driver had to be lost or have the wrong address.
