Chapter 5
Ollie
Days Like These by Luke Combs
Wilder Ranch smells like hay and warm sun cutting through a cold day and feels like every damn dream I ever had about what a safe life could feel like on a ranch.
Horses huff contentedly in their stalls.
The wind moves softly and easily through the crisp winter air.
Somewhere behind me, Owen laughs loud enough that it echoes through the barn, and my chest tightens at the sound.
Wilder Ranch didn’t always feel like this.
It did back when my grandparents were alive.
Back then, this place was steady and happy.
After they passed, it stopped being safe for my sister and me.
Our parents made sure of that. I couldn’t wait to get out, to move into town, to put distance between myself and everything this place had become.
The Wilder Ranch was where all my core childhood memories were magic until I was about thirteen.
Then it all changed and my parents ran it into the ground.
Jack Jessop’s family ran the neighboring ranch, and they were family rivals to my parents.
His father was also a criminal who is now in prison for a very long time.
Jack, his siblings Weston, Jenna, and Tucker have all worked hard to turn their family’s ranch and name around.
Jack fell in love with my sister Cami and they’re married now.
Jack bought our family’s ranch and folded it into his family’s land.
Brought it back to life in a way I didn’t know was possible.
Somehow, the magic is creeping back in, quiet and stubborn.
And he renamed both ranches Wilder Ranch.
Because my grandparents meant something to him and his brothers and sister, too.
They were good people who loved this land, this town, and all of the people in it.
Seeing it now heals something in me every time I come out here.
It’s been a week since the locker room incident.
A solid week of practice that actually feels good.
A week where Owen’s confidence climbs higher every day.
He walks taller now, cracking jokes. He looks more like a kid who’s having fun playing a sport instead of bracing for the next insult, and that’s the way it should be.
Sports saved me from my home life, and I want that for any kid there who needs it too.
Toddy coached as if it were his personal mission to break those kids down, and that’s not what sports are supposed to be about. It’s about showing up and teaching them to work hard without losing their sense of joy. About letting kids be kids. Something Poppy and I are both passionate about.
Watching them have fun feels good. Watching Owen feel safe feels even better.
And damn if isn’t the biggest win. Getting to help make a place safe again. A place where kids are protected. A place I needed when I was young, too.
Owen stands beside Jack now, brushing a chestnut mare.
Jack gives him pointers, and Owen listens and watches, as if every word is gospel.
His cheeks are flushed and happy, and I swear that’s all I ever want to see.
He reminds me of me with my grandpa Wilder when I was a kid in a barn working with horses.
And those are the days and memories that I miss.
I know my grandpa Wilder would be so proud of the way Cami and Jack have turned this place around.
On the other side of the barn, Poppy leans into Jack’s truck engine, humming off key. It’s soft and absentminded, something she does when she’s concentrating hard. I don’t think she even realizes she does it.
I do.
Her blonde hair is pulled into a messy ponytail at the nape of her neck, strands slipping loose and brushing her cheeks.
It’s the color of wheat in late summer, darker near the roots where grease has smudged it, lighter at the ends.
There’s a faint streak of oil along her temple she hasn’t noticed yet.
Her eyes are clear, bright blue, sharp and curious, always looking for how things work and how to fix them.
Right now, they’re narrowed in focus, lashes dark against her skin.
She’s got freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks, the kind you only see when someone’s been outside their whole life.
There’s a small scar on her knuckle from when we were teenagers and she slipped changing a tire, and another faint one near her collarbone she got long before I met her. I know every one of them.
She’s wearing her usual work clothes. Faded overalls smudged with grease. A soft gray long sleeved t-shirt underneath. No makeup. No effort to impress anyone. Just Poppy as she is when she feels safe enough to forget the rest of the world exists.
She looks relaxed here. Peaceful, as if she’s finally breathing without carrying the weight of everything on her shoulders.
The shop does that to her. Being around engines and tools and problems she can solve gives her a break from everything else that presses down on her. She needed this. I knew she did. So, when Jack and Cami invited us out and asked her to look at his truck, she didn’t hesitate for a second.
Watching her like this, I feel it again. That quiet, steady certainty that hits me every time I see her in her element.
She’s more beautiful like this than anyone dressed up and polished and perfect. Not because she’s trying. Because she isn’t.
No one else even comes close.
She smiles to herself when she gets a bolt loose, and then reaches for the replacement part.
“You’re staring,” Cami says beside me, arms crossed, sounding smug. “Big time.”
“She’s happy out here,” I murmur.
“She is,” Cami replies. “I think we all are.”
My gaze drifts to Owen’s small hand running the brushes over the horses, Jack laughing at something he said, then back to Poppy—focused, soft.
Cami nudges me and gives me a more serious expression. “Would you ever want to live out here on the ranch again?”
I keep my eyes on Poppy, and the answer comes easy and undeniable.
Home is wherever she stands. But I’m not ready to say that out loud or admit that to Poppy.
She’s made it clear that I’m friend-zoned.
Plus, the ranch isn’t my family’s anymore.
It’s complicated, but it’s Jack and Cami’s now.
That ship sailed for me. But I do dream about having a place of my own someday.
I don’t know where home is anymore except with them.
“You did that thing where you answered in your head, again,” she says, rolling her eyes, teasing me.
“I can’t afford land or to build out here on a firefighter’s salary.”
Cami watches me and says nothing. “That’s not what I asked.”
I huff out a weak laugh.
She tips her head toward the barn. “You two ever gonna get together? Or you just gonna raise Owen together and pretend it’s casual?”
Heat crawls up my neck. “We’re best friends. She doesn’t wanna mess that up.”
Cami’s voice softens. “You’re not messing anything up. You’re already family.”
You’re already family.
Just hearing that is like the air is whooshed out of my lungs.
Because I want that. I look at Jack and my sister, and I want what they have.
A home, a family to do life with. I want to be needed.
And most importantly, I want to be wanted.
I want a family. Cami and I didn’t exactly have that growing up.
Our dad was a con artist. Our mom, Theresa, is a nurse in Bridger Falls, but she’s never going to win the Mother of the Year award.
She’s gotten slightly better lately with Cami, but I still keep her at arm’s length.
I haven’t forgotten how she treated us when we were kids.
Both of us worked the original Wilder Ranch as unpaid hands after our grandparents passed.
This goes way beyond everyday childhood chores.
We ran that ranch full-time for our parents as kids.
They ran that ranch into the ground until my dad finally left, and my mom was letting it go back to the bank for unpaid taxes and payments.
Jack stepped in and saved it for Cami. He merged it with his family’s ranch, The Jessop Ranch, and they rebranded it all Wilder Ranch because the Jessop kids didn’t like their family name, either.
Sometimes I wonder if I even deserve to be a part of a family. My dad sure as hell didn’t deserve us. What if I turned into the kind of dad he was?
“She doesn’t seem to want me,” I whisper. “What if she wakes up one day and realizes she can do better?”
Cami’s eyes flash. “She already realizes you’re the best thing that ever happened to her. And believe me, it scares her, too.”
There’s a lump in my throat I can’t swallow. “She said that?”
“I don’t know, bro. I can’t tell you what she says. Girl code. You gotta figure it out.” She pushes away from the fence. “Go help your girl. She’s pretending she’s fine, when she’s anything but fine.”
Jack calls from the barn. “Ollie! You coming to help us out with the horses, or are you just here to stare at Poppy all day?”
I flip him off low by my thigh, so Owen won’t see. Cami snickers as I head toward Poppy.
Poppy looks up and smiles. “I think I’ve finally figured out what’s making this stall.”
“Of course you did. You’re a mechanical genius,” I tease.
She smirks and nudges my shoulder lightly.
It’s an easy gesture, but everything between us is.
We’ve spent years like this—side by side, sharing meals, sharing Owen, sharing life—without calling any of it what it really is.
Partners. Without the bravery to cross the line.
It’s like hanging out by the pool, calling it swimming, but never actually getting wet.
Owen runs by, breathless, waving a soft brush. “Cami says I’m a ranch pro now.”
“You are,” I say instantly. “You’re killing it.”
“Have you figured out where you’re moving to?” I ask Poppy as we head outside the barn.