Chapter 7 Cleo
cleo
. . .
“Mom, I’m going to the barn!” I called out over my shoulder.
“Okay, baby. Tell your dad lunch is ready. I didn’t have time to make it this morning,” she said as I stepped into the Texas summer heat.
It might’ve only been the beginning of June, but it was already nearly a hundred degrees at noon. How Dad and the cowboys did it, I would never understand. It was so dang hot. I was probably out of my mind for deciding to do my chores right now, but I couldn’t stay in the house anymore.
This morning had been rough from the get-go.
Josie woke the whole damn house up with her screaming.
We all ran in to find her crying on her bed, staring at her arms and legs, which were covered in itchy red spots.
It took Mom about thirty minutes to calm her down so she’d listen when we told her she wasn’t going to die, and that chicken pox was normal.
After her bath, Mom had all but threatened to duct tape kitchen mittens to Josie’s hands so she would stop itching, which only caused her to start crying again.
Meanwhile, I was trying to keep Lennox entertained, but it hadn’t gone well.
All that girl did was cause chaos. I started following her around and cleaning up messes so Mom didn’t have to worry about it.
Not that it ultimately mattered. Just like a tornado, Lennox swept back through and destroyed everything I touched.
“Will do!” I said, pulling the door closed.
I fished my iPod out of my pocket, then stuck in my earbuds and hit play.
Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls began filtering through, drowning out the outside noise.
Sometimes, my mind felt like it would never slow down, but music seemed to help a little.
The words and beats gave me something else to focus on.
It made me feel hopeful and understood in a world where I sometimes felt invisible.
Being so much older than my sisters was hard.
All they wanted to do was run around and play, but I had things to do.
My days were spent finishing homework, cleaning stalls, and helping with dinner.
Once that was done, I helped Mom and Dad with anything they needed.
By the time my head hit the pillow, I should’ve been exhausted, but I wasn’t. Not always.
Sometimes my mind raced, keeping me up until the early hours of the morning. It didn’t happen all the time, but those nights were the worst. It didn’t matter how little sleep I got, I still had to get up and start the day all over again.
My least favorite part was the ranch work.
I didn’t hate it, but it was never going to be my life’s passion like it was for my parents.
They lived and breathed this place, but I wanted something more.
I didn’t know what yet, but I was sure I’d figure it out before college. At least, I hoped I would.
A chorus of neighs and whinnies greeted me the moment I stepped inside. I made my way to the feed room to grab a handful of treats for the horses. There was no way they’d let me get any work done if I ignored them.
Technically, Dad said I wasn’t supposed to spoil them by handing out sweets every day, but I couldn’t help myself.
Especially not as they poked their giant heads through the stall doors and looked at me the way they did.
This lot was waiting for the vet to come by for their yearly inspection and new shoes.
They were old horses who’d been retired after spending most of their lives working the ranch.
Now, they spend most of their time in the pastures being fat and lazy.
I approached the end of the aisle where my horse stood proud in his stall, already causing a fuss before I even came to a stop. Houdini was a small American Quarter Horse my mom had rescued, aptly named because he seemed to escape from nearly every enclosure we tried to house him in.
My parents didn’t talk about his history much. Just that his previous owners were horrible to him, and he needed a good home. There were scars along his flank from their angry strikes.
And he was all mine.
In some ways, I wished I were as free as he was.
Not just physically, but mentally too. I couldn’t imagine the horrors he’d been through, and yet he never let them break his spirit.
He was mischievous and playful, always stealing bags and running away, so our hands had to try to catch him, but they were always too slow.
“Hey, boy,” I cooed, scratching beneath his chin. “You ready to give’em hell today?”
If there was one thing Houdini hated, it was the farrier. It wasn’t because the guy was mean or anything, but my little escape artist hated his hooves being touched. He always kicked and bit and stomped anytime someone came near them.
He chuffed, throwing his head back in glee as he chewed happily on the peppermint in my hand.
The sound of truck tires on the gravel road drew my attention to the front of the barn.
Two large trucks pulled up next to one another, each branded with a business name.
Laughter filtered inside as the drivers hopped out and shook each other’s hands.
While they chatted, I pulled out my phone to call my dad.
Fingers crossed he stayed close to the house since he knew we had company coming.
“Hey, sugar. Vet there already?” Dad asked before I could even get a word out.
“Yup. Looks like the farrier, too,” I said, peering through the large double doors.
There was someone else standing with them now.
I thought it might have been one of our hands at first, but his t-shirt had the farrier’s logo on the back of the shirt.
I guess Mr. Riley had finally decided to hire help for those grueling summer months.
“Shit, alright.” Dad sighed on the other side of the line. “We’re about fifteen minutes out from the barn. One of those old asshats is always late, but I should’ve known the one time I thought we had extra time…”
I stopped hearing my dad’s rambles as the young guy turned around, and I got a good look at his face.
Holy shit.
If you had told me the boy I’d had a crush on since junior high would be standing on my family’s ranch in a pair of snug Wranglers and a sweat-soaked T-shirt, I’d have said you were delusional. Or maybe hallucinating. Was that what was happening right now?
I pinched myself just to make sure, rubbing over the sharp sting when I realized I was, in fact, awake.
Grady Wilde was the golden boy at school.
Everyone, including the teachers, loved him.
He was always the first to volunteer when our student council asked for help, and there was no short list of admirers who followed his lead.
Most of the girls in our grade talked about how hot he was.
I tended to keep my opinions to myself, but inside I wanted to scream about how right they were.
If they could see him now, I was pretty sure that obsession would only grow.
His blond hair was tucked beneath a worn baseball cap, sporting a big “A” on the front for our high school athletics department.
He’d let his facial hair grow over the summer.
Just a dusting of scruff along his jawline that shouldn’t have made him hotter, but it did.
“Cleo? Everything alright?”
“Y—Yeah, Daddy. Everything’s great,” I stammered, glancing away from the three men outside. “Want me to pull the list and show them who we’re starting with?”
I could hear Dad’s smile over the phone. “Don’t know what I’d do without ya, sugar. That’d be great. Tell’em I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I said goodbye, slipping the phone into my back pocket and discreetly wiping my sweaty palms against the denim. This was silly. Why was I nervous? It’s not like talking to him was going to change my life or anything.
Even though I wish it would.
Most of the time, I didn’t feel the pressure to do the things other kids my age did.
Between my never-ending chores at the ranch and all my extracurricular activities at school, I didn’t even have time.
Plus, I was way too worried about getting caught sneaking out and being busted at a party.
Honestly, my parents’ disappointment would be the hardest thing to get past. The embarrassment alone might take me out, so it wasn’t even worth it.
Unfortunately for me, being from a small town meant there wasn’t much to do on the weekends other than get into trouble. We didn’t have malls or big movie theaters. Hell, we didn’t even have a skating rink or a bowling alley.
The only thing we had was land, and plenty of it.
There was usually at least one party a weekend in a pasture or old hay barn.
If someone’s parents were out of town, they might move it inside, but that was rare.
I didn’t blame them because there was no way in hell I’d let a bunch of drunk classmates inside my house.
What if they broke something that couldn’t be fixed?
But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve started getting a little bit jealous that everyone around me is experiencing things I never have. I mean, I’d never even gone to one of those stupid parties or been on a date. Never been kissed, either, but most of my friends had.
I bet Grady had.
Nope. Wasn’t going to think about that. Instead, I headed straight for my dad’s office to grab the list he’d made last night. I could sit around and mope over my lack of a life—love or otherwise—in the privacy of my own bedroom.
Someone called my name as I stepped out with the clipboard tucked beneath my arm.
I turned, expecting to find my dad or Bishop, but came face to face with Grady.
His bright blue eyes swept over my face, lighting up when he smiled.
God, I liked it when he did that. It made me feel all kinds of things I was sure I shouldn’t.