Page 74 of Untamed

“Nice to have another daughter to dote on,” Pops tells me, his voice quiet. “And I’d like another. So, maybe hurry your ass up with River.”

“I’m trying. But someone told me to steer clear.”

“Since when do you listen to your old man?” he calls out after me.

“Good point!”

He laughs and goes back inside, probably ready to sit back in his recliner for the rest of the morning watching Westerns. That man has probably seen every episode of Gunsmoke twenty times by now. It’s just on repeat, and I don’t know how Momma stands it.

I make my way over to the rescue barn, and both Wells and Poppy greet me but won’t look at me. They’re very good at pretending to be so busy they can’t even look in my direction. Lord, no one in this family has a poker face besides Momma.

“Y’all can stop ignoring me,” I tell them. “I know she’s staying in the cabin, and I know I’m supposed to be a good boy and leave her be.”

“You? Be a good boy?” Wells asks. “That’s laughable.”

“How do you know?” Poppy ignores Wells as she stops what she’s doing and puts her hands on her hips.

“You think anyone in this family can keep a secret?”

She groans and drops her head back as she throws her hands up in surrender.

“I’m not going to tell you to leave her alone,” Poppy says, surprising me. “Because I think both of you need to get over yourselves and hash it out.”

“Fuck it out, more like,” Wells murmurs.

“Wells Black.” Poppy gives him a look.

“Just sayin’.” He shrugs and gives her one of his cheeky grins.

“She’s coming back tonight after her shift at the bar to pick up Betty and her things. She decided to take her to the cabin.”

I reach into my back pocket, fingering the small note I wrote this morning. I planned on going over to the cabin and tucking it into the screen door or something, but maybe I can just hide it in Betty’s things instead.

“Can I leave the note I wrote for her? Like with Betty’s stuff?”

Poppy smiles and nods, holding out her hand.

I hesitate.

“I’m not going to read it,” she says with a sigh. “I promise. I just don’t have her stuff put together yet. I promise you I will guard it with my life and make sure she gets it.”

“Not for his eyes,” I tell her as I place it in her palm. “And I’ll know if he does because he’ll never let me live it down.”

“I swear.” She smiles at me. “I may be short, but it just helps my agility. I could take him if I needed to.”

“I’m not touching you,” Wells jokes. “Like I said, I’m attached to my balls.”

Not knowing what that means, nor wanting to know, I leave my note with Poppy and the ball in River’s court.

“Hey there, bug!” Bill greets me as I walk into the bar. It’s a Saturday night, so I’m already dreading the crowd that will come with it later.

“Hey, Bill!” The soles of my shoes stick to the floor as I walk over to the bar. Not because it’s dirty, per se. We do mop. I think there’s just been so much whiskey spilled in this place over the last fifty years it’s become part of the woodwork. “Thanks again for giving me some time off this week.”

“I keep tellin’ you to take time off. It was about time you started listenin’.” He looks at me out of the corners of his eyes while he works on drying all the pint glasses. “Everything alright?”

“Sure.” I laugh and shrug. “As good as it can be, I guess. How were things this week without me?”

Walking to the room that’s just behind the bar, I toss my bag down at the desk and clock in. Bill’s old-school, making all of us write down our times on a paper log, which he then adds up…with a calculator. And not the one that comes on his phone. No, no. He whacks out one of the ones my grandma used to use when she tallied up her checkbook. It has a little paper scroll at the top and makes very loud noises when you hit the Enter button.

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