Page 74 of Alive and Wells

I groan. “Umm, they were high school sweethearts. Got married at nineteen and had me pretty much immediately after. Mom lived for this ranch and Wells Canyon—I have no clue how she did it all. She took care of things here, volunteered at our school, organized town events, took us to rodeos every weekend.” I stop to kiss the bridge of Cecily’s nose, thinking about the tiny scattering of freckles that have popped up over the summer. It may be pitch black in this room, but I can picture the location of every single one perfectly. “Anyway, um… She got breast cancer. It was me, Jackson, and Grandpa running the ranch while Dad drove her to the city for chemo all the time. Then Grandpa died, and my mom less than six months later. Afterward, my dad decided there wasn’t anything worth sticking around for. Apparently, he never wanted to run the ranch in the first place. Which is funny, because he had no problem forcing the burden on me instead.”

Her lips are soft and warm on my cheek. “Doyouwant to run it?”

“Yeah,” I say without thinking. “It’s too important a place for me to give it up. I wouldn’t ever pressure our kid like that though… I mean—I don’t mean we’re going to have a kid.”

“Shh, you’re spiralling. I’m happy to hear our rodeo baby, Lucy, won’t be forced into running the family farm, though.” I hear her hand jokingly pat her stomach and, for a second, I allow myself to think about a sweet baby girl with Cecily’s blonde hair. Honestly, it’s not something I would even be the slightest bit unhappy about. “You know his leaving wasn’t because of you, right?”

“Not because of. But definitely in spite of.”

“I wonder if he regrets it. It’s not the same thing—at all—but I was quick to ditch my parents when my head was a complete mess. And I regret it.” Soft fingers create a path back and forth across my chest and I want to tell her that he doesn’t regret anything. Except I can’t say it with any amount of certainty because, the truth is, I don’t know. I don’t remember details about the last time we spoke but we definitely didn’t talk about grandpa or mom or the ranch or how either of us felt oranythingthat fucking mattered.

“Maybe he does.” I lose myself in wondering.

The only sound in the room is the quiet whir of the ceiling fan. Cecily’s head rests on my shoulder and, although it’s hard to tell from this angle, I think her eyes are closed. Her balled fist rests in the centre of my chest, perfectly still.

“Are you sleeping?” I run a hand over her hair, releasing the intoxicating coconut aroma I love so much.

“Just thinking.”

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“How happy I am that every girl who came before me didn’t realize how good they had it.”

“I’m the lucky one. I don’t deserve you for a damn second, darlin’. But, if you let me, I’ll work every day to become a man who’s worthy of loving you. I’ll give you more of myself than I did with any girls from my past, and I’ll treat you better than any of the guys from yours.”

My finger traces her cheekbone, then down her jawline. Her hand holds my face and her forehead presses into my jaw. One minute turns to two turns to three. Holding each other in a darkened room, in a world made up only of us.

28

Cecily

Dusksettlesovertheranch, soaking the kitchen in golden orange light, as I help Kate wash the last of the dinner dishes. With the boys gone late, I came over to the big house to eat with her and Odessa. I sling the drying towel over the oven handle and grab a cold beer from the fridge on my way to the back porch. Kate follows with a glass of ice water. It’s the perfect late-summer night. Loud crickets chirp, a warm breeze carries mist from the nearby sprinkler, and the hayfields are a rich emerald hue.

“You know, when I was pregnant with Odessa, I couldn’t wait for it to be over because I couldn’t wait to hold her. This time ’round, I just want it to end so I can sleep comfortably, drink a beer, and not risk peeing my pants every time I move too fast.” She sinks down onto the porch swing with a loud exhale.

“Only a few weeks left now, at least.”

She fans herself with her hand. “And with this heat, it cannot come soon enough. Plus, another month and we’ll be deep into the busy fall. We got a third hay cut to do, a couple thousand long yearling cattle to ship out, and the entire herd comes home for the winter around mid-October. Once all the fall work starts up, Jackson will be almost entirely useless to me here.”

“I know it’s not the same, but I’ll help with anything you need.”

“Honestly, you’re probably a better help than Jackson any day.” She laughs. “I love my husband, but it’s like his brain turns to oatmeal as soon as a baby starts crying. Can break the wildest of horses but panics and freezes with a seven-pound newborn in his arms.”

“I’m sure he’ll be better this time around. Since he’s been through it all once.” I take a long sip and watch Odessa run through the sprinkler set up in the garden. Her pink knee-length dress is soaked and her light-brown hair is plastered to her face and neck.

“Damn well better be if he expects me to ever do this shit again.”

The sun is sinking below the treetops, and headlights shining over the space where the lilacs used to be alert us to the approaching vehicle before we hear the tires crunching along the road. Kate leans forward for a clearer view of the ranch entrance.

“Huh, never seen that car around.” Creases form between her eyebrows as her eyes narrow to a squint, trying to determine who would be showing up here so late in the evening.

I stand up to see past her and my knees immediately buckle at the familiar headlights and grill. My body falls to a heap on the wooden decking and shooting pain skyrockets up the length of my arm when I try to catch myself. The edges of my vision become black. The haze barely allows me to make out the knots in the wood decking an inch from my face. I think I might be sick. Or scream. My mind has to be playing tricks on me. There’s no way. He couldn’t have found me.

Not here.

Not him.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Kate’s focus shifts to me.

---