Page 5 of Burned

“The Blacks’ ranch.”

“The Rescue Ranch out on 43?”

I meet his eyes in the rearview for a second and give him a polite smile. “That’s the one.”

“Alright, then!”

The ribbons tied all over the key chain Jessie made me catch my eye. That’ll have to work. I’m hot, and my hair is about to drive me insane. So I carefully untie one and then use it as best I can to tie my hair up and out of my way. It’s not going to look the best, but I don’t have the patience right now to care.

Especially when we pull into a long dirt driveway that leads us under a steel archway with “The Black Family Ranch” cut out of it. The mountains sit behind the expanse of farmland, and the sun is high in the clear blue sky. I gaze out at the massive trees that line the driveway and the animals grazing behind the wooden fences.

“Alright, miss,” the driver says as we make a circle in front of a white two-story house. The front porch wraps around the entire thing, and there is a porch swing on either side, with a bright yellow wreath anointing the door in the middle.

I immediately want to drink sweet tea on this porch.

“This is it?” I ask, a little bit in awe of how cozy it looks. I don’t know what I expected, but it definitely wasn’t this.

And it definitely wasn’t the attractive man leaning on the porch railing, watching me with a smile as I step out of the car.

“Hey, city slicker!” he calls as he walks down toward me. “Name is Wells.”

His smile is warm, and I immediately like him. He looks to be my age or maybe a little older. His hair is a dark dirty blond, and his eyes are like chocolate. The corners of them are crinkled from the intensely happy smile painted across his mouth.

“Poppy,” I tell him, returning his grin with my own.

“So?”he asks, his hands on his hips as he looks over the land and then back to me. He keeps his eyes off my body, which I appreciate.

“So?” I ask, not sure what he’s getting at.

“What do you think? Is it what you imagined?”

I look around, taking in the fresh mountain air and the noises of the animals. There’s a faint smell of cow shit on the breeze, which just reminds me of my childhood home. Just…way nicer. I come from a small town that’s filled with meth heads and alcoholics. This place reeks of old money.

“Honestly,” I say, looking back in his direction, “I’m not sure what I expected. But this is beautiful.”

“Yes, it is. I’ve been lucky to call this home my entire life. I’m the youngest of the siblings. Rhett will be popping up anytime now, I’m sure. He’s the oldest — takes care of the working ranch side while I normally just work on the rescue animals. Hayes is around here, too, but we probably won’t see him. My guess is he’s off playing his guitar somewhere to piss Rhett off.”

The humor in his eyes makes me want to laugh along with him. I can definitely tell he’s the baby of the family. He has that look about him, and he just acts like he has less to worry about than a normal rancher might.

“We have another brother — Dean — but he’s not around right now. And we had a baby sister, but…” He clears his throat and forces a smile. “Yeah, she’s not around right now either. Anyway.” He smiles as big as he can and waves his hands around him in alook at this placegesture. “Let’s give you a tour!”

He grabs both suitcases by their handles and drags them up the dirt path to the front steps. I’m thankful he’s taken both of them, even though I feel bad I didn’t even try to take one back. But I’m tired, and that man is a cowboy. He has plenty of strength to get those things hauled up to the house.

“We’ll put your shit, excuse me,stuffin the main house for now, get you introduced to Momma and Pops. Then after the tour, I’ll take you to where you’ll be staying on the property. I’m sure Pops told you, but you’ll have your own place. We have some cabins scattered across the property, and we got one all cleaned up for ya.” He looks over his shoulder and winks at me before yanking the screen door open.

“Momma? Pops?” he shouts at the top of his damn lungs once he’s in.

And damn, it’s even more gorgeous on the inside. His mom has it decorated like a home. There are warm colors and comfortable couches and chairs that I could sink into for hours while reading a book. She has pictures of her family on every wall, and the old wooden floors creak beneath our feet as we walk down the hallway and into the kitchen.

“Hi, Poppy!” An older man stands from where he was sitting at the table and walks toward us. His hair is all grey, almost white, and he’s got an old pair of glasses hanging on to the tip of his nose for dear life. Wells looks exactly like him. They even have the same eye crinkles when they smile.

“Poppy, this is Pops,” Wells says, bobbing his head between the two of us. “That’s a mouthful.”

“Homer Clyde Black the Fifth, at your service. But you can call me Clyde, dear.” He takes my hand in his own, his work-beaten fingers wrapping tightly around mine in a comforting gesture.

“Clyde,” I repeat back to him. “Very nice to meet you.”

“Where’s your brother?” he asks, dropping my hand to turn to Wells as he sets my suitcases by the back door.

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