Page 41 of Ashes of the Past
The afternoon sun is already relentless as I pull my truck into the lot at Marley’s Feed Store. The air is dry and heavy with the kind of heat that makes you feel like you’re breathing through a wool blanket. I step out, adjust my hat against the glare, and head inside. The bell above the door jingles, and it’s like I’ve traveled back in time.
Nothing has changed about the place, other than that the usual customers have gotten a little older.
Mack, the owner, is behind the counter, leaning on his elbows and chatting with a couple of ranch hands. His round face breaks into a grin when he sees me.
“Jack Renfrew,” he says, straightening up. “I heard you were back in town. John’s a smart man bringing you on. What brings you in so early?”
I nod, walking up to the counter. “Just being prepared. I need a couple of pallets of cubes and some extra mineral blocks. Andlet’s talk about bulk hay. If this dry spell keeps up, I’m gonna need a plan.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re overthinking it, son. We’ll get rain. Always do. Don’t go acting like the world’s ending.”
I lean on the counter, meeting his gaze. “And if we don’t? I’m not taking any chances.”
His smile fades a bit, and he nods. “Fair point. But you’re still jumping the gun. We’re not even in the thick of summer yet.”
“Maybe not, but the pastures are already looking rough. I’d rather have what I need now than be scrambling later.”
He sighs, pulling a clipboard off the counter. “All right, all right. I’ll get you what you need. But don’t come crying to me when you’ve got more feed than you know what to do with, and the rain’s pouring down.”
I smirk. “If that happens, I’ll buy you a steak dinner and admit you were right.”
“You’d better,” he says, jotting down my order. “I’ll have the boys load up your truck. Anything else?”
“That’ll do for now,” I say, tipping my hat. “Appreciate it, Mack.”
As I head back out to the truck, I glance up at the cloudless sky. Mack might think I’m overreacting, but I’ve been around long enough to know better. When the land starts to feel this dry, it’s only a matter of time before things get worse.
After leaving the feed store, I make a few more stops around town. I swing by the hardware store to pick up some fence repair supplies and chat with old Mr. Callahan about the state of the creek running through his property. It’s running low, just like everywhere else. By the time I’ve loaded up the truck with everything I need, the sun’s climbing higher, and the heat is oppressive.
I decide to stop by the café for a coffee before heading back to the ranch. Nick had told me earlier in the day that Rachel’s Place is always busy but well worth the wait for a coffee and one of her cinnamon rolls, and sure enough, the parking lot is packed. I manage to squeeze my truck into a spot near the door and step inside, the blast of air conditioning a welcome relief.
The place smells like fresh coffee and pastries, and the low hum of conversation fills the air. I step up to the counter, scanning the menu even though I already know what I’m getting. As I’m waiting in line, I hear a familiar voice behind me.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Jack, gracing us common folk with his presence.”
I turn and see Brynn. She’s standing a few feet away, her arms crossed and a smirk tugging at her lips.
She’s got on a simple sundress, her hair pulled back, and she looks… Well, she looks good. Not that I’d tell her that. It’s what she had on earlier, I’m sure. I failed to notice because she was arguing with me, like normal.
“Brynn,” I say, keeping my tone neutral. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I’m a regular,” she says, stepping closer. “Unlike you. What brings you into town? Rancher’s work too boring today?”
I chuckle. “Just running errands. Thought I’d grab a coffee before heading back. What about you? Taking a break from arranging daisies?”
Her eyes narrow, but there’s a hint of amusement there. “First of all, it’s lilies today. Second, don’t knock it. My arrangements bring joy to people’s lives.”
“Fair enough,” I say, holding up my hands. “Didn’t mean to offend the queen of flowers.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t respond. The barista calls my name, and I step up to grab my coffee. As I’m reaching for my wallet, Brynn steps up beside me.
“I’ll get it,” she says, pulling out her own wallet.
I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t need to do that.”
“Consider it a gesture of goodwill,” she says, her tone sweet but with a sharp edge. “You know, since you’re always so charming.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got it,” I say, handing over a bill before she can argue. “I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
