Page 33 of Alive and Wells

“Thought you weren’t going to get yourself tangled up with the city girls again after what happened with Savannah?” Jackson side-eyes me.

Denny chuckles. “That was before he and I cut down all the lilacs ’cause she didn’t like ’em. Boy’s already tangled.”

“Shut the fu—frick up, Denny. I’m not tangled, and I’m not getting tangled. I know better than to think she’ll stay here.”

“You never know. I stayed.” Kate shrugs and rests her folded arms across her stomach. “Listen, I liked Savannah, but she was never cut out to stay here. You were too blinded by love to see it, Aus.”

“Mmhm.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, and look out at the sunset shadows falling across the mountains. I’m so ready to be done with this conversation.

“It’s true, man.” Denny points his fork at me. “She always liked hanging out for the summer, riding horses, flirting with the cowboys, and heading south for winter. Like a damn snowbird. I really don’t know why you were shocked when she left for good.”

“Sometimes I wish you’d head fucking south for the winter, Den. Give me a break.” I slam back the remaining liquid in my beer can, and put my napkin on my plate.

“Language.” Kate glares.

“Sorry.”

Denny’s still wrapped up in his last thought. “Filly’s not like that, though—from what I can tell. She’s not flirting with any of the guys. She busts her ass here. And she’s never mentioned any siblings in Florida.”

“Great dinner, Kate. Thanks.” My chair scrapes across the wood floor as I stand up and walk out.

I hear her half-heartedly call my name as I push through the front door. I’m about to become a full recluse and skip dinners at the big house. It seems those three always find a way to steer the conversation to me… and, lately, to me and Cecily.

With my crew halved for the next few days, I’m forced to pull more than my usual chore load. I’m quick to volunteer to wrangle with the ranch hands—moving 1,000-head from one grazing section to another sounds like the perfect way to steer clear of Cecily. I may have talked a big game about waiting to kiss her, but it’s a promise I find harder to keep with every smile, every whiff of her sweet perfume, and every glimpse at the sliver of skin on her lower back when she bends down in the garden. If I’m going to stick to my promise of not kissing her until she’s ready, it would do me good to get the hell away from here for a while.

Maybe I should’ve gone to the Stampede.

I’m tacked up and waiting before the sun wakes. Red stumbles into the stables a little after four a.m. with red eyes and a sullen face. “Mornin’, bossman.”

“No Stampede?”

“Yeah, no. Didn’t go well for me last year. Too many fake cowboys looking for a fight, too many mounties looking to arrest the real cowboys for giving ’em what they had coming.”

“Can’t say I’m mad we won’t have to bail you outta jail again.”

“Thought you’d appreciate that, Aus. You know you love having me here.”

I grunt. “You don’t know me at all, do you?”

“Oh, fuck off. You love me like a brother, even if you’re too much of a jackass to say it. Least Denny tells me enough for the both of ya.” He heaves the saddle pad and saddle onto his red mare, Heathen. It’s a fitting name—she gives him a run for his money every chance she gets. To make sure they get adequate rest, our cowboys cycle through ten horses each. For whatever reason, Red seems to have the most intense mounts in the remuda.

The rest of the men slowly trickle in until there’s nine of us in total. Some are pissed off about being too low in the pecking order to get to go to the Calgary Stampede, the rest are pissed off because they have to do twice the work while we’re shorthanded. All grumble equally while they tack up.

“Quit the bitchin’. We have cattle to move and God’s not granting us more daylight ’cause we’re shorthanded,” I shout as I mount my cowy mare, Jubilee. With a few more gripes, the men follow suit and, for the most part, shut up for our ride over the hill.

Nine men on horseback and four cattle dogs. We spend hours driving the herd of steers from one section of grazing land to another, down a long dirt road and across the crystal clear waters of the Timothy River. I can’t help but wonder if Cecily is downstream, tanning in her bikini on the riverbank.God, would I love to be there.The afternoon sun bakes my forearms, and I tug my cotton rag further up my neck to prevent a burn.

By the time we’re circling back, strawberry-wine-painted sky grants us just enough light to find our way to the stables. With a grunt, I lift the saddle from Jubilee, and she lets out a shudder of relief that runs through every muscle. I let out the same shudder as the heavy leather saddle plunks onto the rack. Horse sweat and dust fill the stable, and I inhale the comforting scent deeply.

“I know, girl. We need to get out more often, don’t we? Feels good, doesn’t it?” I gently stroke her muzzle, working a brush over her sweat-soaked side.

Once she’s ready to bed down, the moon’s high in the sky and thousands of mosquitoes create a gentle hum in the air. There’s a good chance I’ll fall asleep standing if I quit moving long enough. Then I see Cecily sitting on my front porch steps, and I could be persuaded to stay awake all damn night.

She looks up at my boots crunching on the gravel and wipes aggressively at her eyes. They’re red from crying, and she’s trembling as if it’s not still a balmy twenty-five degrees Celsius. Seeing her in this state, the fact I’m dead tired and sore no longer matters.

“What’s going on?” I look her up and down. Is she hurt? Was there an accident? My train of thought runs at a thousand kilometres an hour in the seconds it takes for her to respond.

“I’m sorry, I just—I didn’t know where else to go. I fucked up. I think I might be in trouble and I—” Her voice breaks and it takes everything in me not to scoop her into my arms. Whatever the trouble is, I want to make it go away. I need her to stop crying. “I can go. Never mind, don’t worry about it. I needed somebody, and Beryl’s gone visiting her family. Kate’s pregnant, and doesn’t need to deal with my bullshit. I just… panicked and came here, but then you weren’t here and—I’m sorry.”

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