This Hick?

Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

CASSIDY

T wo weeks had passed, and life at the ranch had settled into a new normal. It was just the way I liked it. I liked our boring lives with no excitement. The snow-packed dirt roads had finally cleared up, and for the first time in a long while, things were running smoothly. At least, from my perspective. I wasn’t the one trying to squeeze blood from a turnip, though.

Even now, Karen was in the office with Don. She probably had a calculator in one hand and a pencil in the other, working the books to see where we could cut expenses. Everyone on staff knew there were some money issues. We were all trying to be a little more conscientious about trying to pinch pennies.

Don had been holed up in the office with Karen for days. When he came out, he was always muttering about revenue opportunities and the expense of this or that. So far, he had not mentioned anything about laying anyone off, but we were all bracing ourselves for it.

“Come on, guys,” I said, clapping my hands together a couple of times to get the kids’ attention.

“Are we going to ride horses today?” one of the kids asked.

“Nope, today we’re stacking firewood.”

“I can use a chainsaw,” Jason said.

I looked at the teenage boy that probably weighed a buck twenty soaking wet. I laughed and shook my head. “I think it’s best we save that for next year. We don’t have the insurance to cover a chainsaw injury. I’ll be using an ax to split the wood and you guys are going to stack it neatly.”

There were a round of groans. “We do that all the time.”

“Look, winter is almost over,” I said. “If we get one cord done, I think we’ll be good. When spring hits, we’re going to be so busy with fixing fences and taking care of horses. We’ll be going for rides and taking trips to the lake. But it’s not spring yet. That means we’ve got winter work.”

More sighs.

“How about this? Bodie is making those sweet tarts you all like. The sooner we get our work done, the sooner we get to eat and have hot cocoa. I know you all love Bodie’s hot cocoa.”

That seemed to change some attitudes.

I picked up my ax and gestured for the kids to stay back. I grabbed a log and swung. The ax hit the wood with a solid thunk , splitting it clean in half. I kicked the split wood out of the way. The kids scrambled to toss the pieces into the wheelbarrow, then carted it off to the woodshed. I split one log after another. It didn’t take long before we had a decent haul done.

“Okay, guys, the rest of this is going straight to the lodge,” I said. “Two wheelbarrows. We’ll see who can fill them the fastest.”

The competitive spirit got them fired up. They scrambled around, gathering wood as fast as their little arms could manage. I leaned on my ax and watched them scurry about. They reminded me so much of what it was like being a kid out here—freedom mixed with hard work, every day different but the same in its way. It was how I grew up. It taught me a lot of valuable lessons.

“Let’s go!” One of the older boys lifted his wheelbarrow and started running. The other wheelbarrow was right behind him.

The other kids chased them like a herd of wild horses. Ginny was already waiting for us at the front steps, hands on her hips, shaking her head at the lot of us.

“You guys are crazy,” she said, but there was a smile on her lips. “Get those logs in by the fireplace.

“Yes, ma’am!” one of them shouted. They left the wheelbarrows at the steps and started running the wood inside.

“I feel like this might be illegal.” Ginny laughed.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, taking off my work gloves.

“I think this is child labor.”

“It’s called chores.”

She rolled her eyes. “I have to help. My conscience won’t let me sit back and watch this.”

She picked up a load of wood.

“Gin, I can?—”

But before I could finish, her foot caught on the top step, and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Ginny tripped forward, her arms flailing as she tried to catch herself, but it was too late. She went down hard, landing awkwardly on her leg with a sickening crack.

“Shit—Ginny!” I rushed over to her, crouching down as she let out a groan of pain.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” she muttered through gritted teeth, trying to push herself up. “Just tripped.”

“Stop,” I said. “That was more than a trip.”

“Help me up.”

“Let me look at your leg. That did not sound good.”

She rolled over, propping herself up on her elbows. I could tell by the look on her face she was in pain.

I carefully ran my hands down her leg. I didn’t have to feel anything to see the truth. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice tight.

“You broke your damn ankle. Don’t move.” I hiked up her jeans and could see her ankle was already starting to swell.

She cursed under her breath. “Not the ankle.”

“Yep. The ankle.”

The kids came running out, wide-eyed. “What happened? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm for their sake. “But we need to get her to the hospital. One of you go grab Karen, and the rest of you stay here.”

I didn’t wait for them to reply before I scooped Ginny up in my arms, careful not to jostle her ankle. She wrapped her arms around my neck. “I don’t think it’s broken,” she said. “I probably just twisted it.”

“Ginny, I heard it crack.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital. We’ve got crutches here. I’ll just wrap it and keep my weight off it for a week or so.”

I carried her to the truck. “You’re going to the hospital, end of story.”

“Stubborn mule,” she muttered under her breath, but there was no real bite in her words.

I knew she was hurting. She was putting on a good show, but a broken anything was no joke.

“Pull open the door,” I said.

She reached for the handle and pulled it open. By the time Karen came out, Ginny was already settled in the passenger seat, her face pale but composed.

“What happened?” Karen asked. “The kids said Ginny fell.”

“She broke her ankle. I’m taking her to town. We’ll be back.”

“Do you need me to come with you?”

“Nah, I got it. You stay here, hold down the fort. Can you make sure the kids get their treats and cocoa?”

“Of course,” she said.

“And don’t let any of them wander off,” I said.

“I’ll make sure.” She waved at Ginny. “Stay strong.”

I climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “This is going to be bumpy,” I said. “Hold your leg. I’ll take it slow, but you know this road.”

Ginny nodded, gripping the dashboard with one hand and holding her leg with the other. Her face was set in a grimace, but she managed to give me a weak smile. “Just get us there in one piece, okay?”

The road to town was notorious for its potholes and uneven terrain. Spring thaws and freezes turned it into an obstacle course. I navigated the truck carefully, avoiding the biggest dips and bumps, but each jolt sent a ripple of discomfort across Ginny’s face.

“I always thought if I were to break something out here, it’d be because I was thrown off a horse or something dramatic like that.”

I chuckled despite the situation. “There’s still time to do that, but you’re not going to be riding anytime soon.”

The drive into town wasn’t long, but it felt like forever with Ginny trying to play it off like she hadn’t just snapped her ankle in two. By the time we pulled up to the hospital, I was already mentally preparing for her to give the nurses hell for trying to help her.

I ran in to get a wheelchair for her. We got her inside and settled in the ER. Thankfully, it wasn’t a long wait. She was taken back almost immediately. While she was getting x-rays, I wandered down the hall, trying to kill time. That was when I saw Carson, lurking near the nurse’s station, his head down like he didn’t want to be noticed.

My gut twisted and a flash of anger washed through me. What the hell was he doing here?

I marched up to him, catching him off guard. “Carson?”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide. “Uh, hey, Cassidy.”

“What’re you doing here?”

He glanced around nervously, then leaned in, lowering his voice. “Be cool, alright? I’m not here for me.”

Before I could ask what he meant, a woman approached, wearing scrubs and looking exhausted but familiar. She smiled when she saw me. “Hello.”

“Mae,” I said, nodding in recognition. Carson’s mom. Now things were starting to make sense.

“Are you here for stitches?” she asked.

“Not me. One of the other hands broke her ankle. Or I think it’s broken. She took a bad spill.”

Carson was stiff, doing his best to appear small. I glanced between the two of them, feeling like I was intruding on something private. Mae looked rundown, like she’d been pulling long shifts without much rest. Carson was doing his best to avoid eye contact with me.

He shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, we should probably go, Mom.”

“Give me just a minute,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

Mae walked away, giving me a minute with Carson.

“Don’t say anything,” he hissed, his eyes pleading.

“About what?” I asked.

“About the other night, man. She doesn’t know, okay? And I’d like to keep it that way.”

I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. “Why the hell wouldn’t you tell your mom you nearly died trying to get away from your father?”

“She’d worry,” he said, his voice tight. “If you haven’t noticed, she’s got enough on her plate as it is.” He glanced over at Mae, who was talking to one of the nurses, looking more worn out by the second. “She’s been working her tail off ever since she left my dad. I don’t want to give her more to stress about.”

My gut twisted. I’d seen kids like Carson before—kids who tried to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders because they thought it would make things easier for their parents. It didn’t sit right with me, though.

“Your mom’s tough,” I said, lowering my voice. “But she deserves to know what’s going on. I know for sure she would not be happy to know what happened to you. What’s still happening, right?”

Carson’s jaw clenched. “I don’t want her dragged into another custody fight. My dad’s been a real piece of work lately. I don’t want him to take it out on her.”

“If you told the judge what you told us, there wouldn’t be a custody fight. Your mom would easily be given full custody.”

The kid shook his head. “You don’t know that for sure. My dad is friends with the judges. They don’t care about me and my mom.”

“Carson, this is serious,” I said.

“I only have to deal with him every other weekend. Four more years, and I’m done.”

“Four years is a long time, Carson. It doesn’t get better.”

He shrugged, but there was pain behind his eyes. “I’ve done fourteen. What’s four more?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. The kid was trying to protect his mom, but at what cost? “Look, I’ll keep this between us for now. But if things get worse, I’m telling her. You got that?”

Carson nodded, looking relieved. “Yeah. Thanks, Cassidy. And thank you for the other day. For looking out for me.”

I didn’t feel great about keeping Carson’s secrets, but for now, it seemed like the best option. The kid had been through enough. He didn’t need me stirring the pot just to make myself feel better.

“Take care of yourself,” I said. “And if you need anything, you know where to find me. Just call first, huh? No more midnight runs.”

I walked back to Ginny’s room. She was sitting in bed with a frown on her face. “It’s busted,” she said.

“I figured. It popped like a dang firework.”

“This sucks.” She rubbed her nose like a drunk person does when they’re not sure it’s still attached to their face.

I smiled. “I see the pain meds kicked in.”

“I told you it didn’t hurt that bad.”

I laughed. “Yeah, you’re going to be singing a different tune tomorrow.”

“Six weeks, the doc said,” she said with a sigh. “Just in time for calving season. Damn my luck. What are you guys going to do without me?”

“Without you?” I shot her a grin. “Are your arms broken too? You can’t shovel shit from a wheelchair?”

She laughed and shook her head. “I’ll shovel it into your damn bunk.”

The doctor came in a short time later to put the cast on. An hour later and we were on our way home.

“You’ll be back on your feet in no time,” I promised her. “Until then, we’ll get Kenny to carry you on his back like a backpack.”

She laughed. “Now that would be something.”

As I drove, my mind wandered back to Carson. That kid had more fight in him than I’d given him credit for. But there was only so much he could handle on his own. One way or another, something was going to give.

And I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be pretty.