Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Taylor
T he ride to the ranch was silent. All the pain, sadness, and heartache I'd felt the day I walked away was weighing heavy in the pit of my stomach. I shouldn't have agreed to go back, but I couldn't help but wonder what he'd found that I might want. For the past few months, I'd avoided driving down this road because I couldn't stomach the realization that I'd let it go.
Bailey swerved her truck down my old long driveway. "It was really nice of them to keep this stuff for you."
My eyes flicked to her, and I forced a smile and nodded slightly. It was nice, and I was thankful the owners weren't home, so if I did cry, they wouldn't see. She eased to a stop, and for the first time since I'd left, my gaze shifted over the property, and my heart swelled as I moved from the remodeled horse stable to the new horse corrals and a then completely remodeled house.
I shoved open the truck door and stepped onto the dirty driveway. Sucking in a deep breath, I took it all in.
"This..." I swallowed as tears burned the back of my eyelids. "Is amazing."
"Yeah," Bailey sighed. "They fixed the place up. It looks just like it did when we were kids."
It was like they snuck into my dreams, printed them, turned them into blueprints, and then created my dream home.
"Come on," Bailey smiled. "I'm dying to see what they did with the inside."
I followed her up the steps. "We should just get the box and go."
"What?" She scowled. "No, we should look around. It's not like we'll have the chance again."
"Bailey," I snapped as she reached for the door handle. "It's not my house anymore. They were nice enough to let us come get this box. We should get it and go."
"You go then." She smirked over her shoulder as she shoved the door open. "But I'm going to look around." I rolled my eyes. Bailey was always a troublemaker, but that was why I loved her. If it wasn't for her, I'd have missed out on amazing experiences growing up and some of my not-so-amazing experiences, too. "Aren't you curious?"
I followed her into the large living room, and my jaw dropped. It was restored to its original beauty. It looked exactly like the house I'd grown up in, minus all the old broken and damaged furniture. The fireplace that hadn't worked since I was a kid had a small fire burning inside it, and the floors with rotting wood had been replaced with new wood stained with the same dark hardwood we'd had growing up.
"Okay," I whispered like someone might hear me. "But one quick walk-through, and then we leave." I couldn't help my own curiosity. I wanted to see the rest of the house.
I glanced down at the box by the door. It was a medium-sized brown shipping box with no writing on it, and the lid was closed. Bailey disappeared into the kitchen, and even though I was beyond curious about what was in the box, it would have to wait. If I didn't stay with Bailey, she'd get us in trouble.
I followed her into the small kitchen, which was also restored to its original beauty. In fact, as we went from one end of the house to the other, it was all restored exactly like I remembered. Everything was new and clean, and it smelled amazing. The bedroom doors were closed, and even though I wanted to see my old bedroom, it didn't feel right to invade their privacy.
My heart swelled with a bittersweet happiness. I was happy the ranch went to someone who could see its true beauty and not see it as a large piece of land to develop.
"We should go." I sighed, and Bailey nodded. "Let me grab the box, and I'll meet you in the truck."
I knelt, wrapping my arms around the box, unsure of how heavy it was, and jerked it up. I over-judged the weight and stumbled back. "What the..." The box was empty. Unease coated my insides and sank to the pit of my stomach.
Why would they ask me to come pick up an empty box?
I carried the empty box outside, stopping on the porch. "It's empty."
Bailey stopped at her truck door and twisted back to me. "What?" Her eyes narrowed on me before dropping to the box. "Did you open it?"
"No." I shook my head. "I can feel there's nothing in it." I shook the box back and forth to demonstrate it was empty, but then, on the last shake, I thought I heard something hit the side of the box, like a paper. I laughed. "I probably forgot my birth certificate here or something." I skipped down the steps, slightly amused that he'd used such a big box for one sheet of paper.
"You should open it."
"I will once we get back to the bar."
"No," she said. The seriousness in her tone gained my attention. "You should open it now."
"Okay," I said, drawing out the word. I sank onto the step and set the box beside me before pulling the box open.
Reaching into the box, I pulled out a single sheet of paper that read: 'There's someone in stable twenty-one that's missed you.'
"Rodeo," I whispered. "They still have Rodeo." I dropped the paper in the box, pushed to my feet, and headed for the stables. My heart raced as I fought back the tears. I thought I would never see him again. It would suck saying my goodbye's again, but it was worth it to see him once more.
I picked up my pace, not wanting to waste any time. Something caught my attention, and my gaze shifted to the old barn in the distance, and I froze. It was completely redone. The old red barn was now white with no holes or broken windows. It was exactly what I pictured when my mom talked about turning it into a wedding venue. My chest tightened at the memory, and I shook my head to clear it.
I pushed myself forward, stepping into the stables, counting as I passed each stable and smiling when I said, "Twenty, twenty-one." I rounded the corner of stable twenty-one and sucked in a harsh breath.
It wasn't Rodeo.
It was Cole.