10. Josie
josie
. . .
One Year Later
“Hey, Daddy,” I said, cradling my phone between my ear and shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
I cringed when I’d seen my dad’s name flash across my phone, knowing today was the worst day to be running late. In my defense, I hadn’t known my old coffee machine would choose this morning to finally die, thereby forcing me to stop at the nearest café for my caffeine fix.
I really wanted an energy drink, but Ellis thought they were unhealthy and didn’t like me drinking them.
My dad’s gruff voice greeted me on the other line. “Can’t an old man check up on his daughter?”
“Not today, no. Now tell me what you need.” I mouthed my thanks to the barista at the counter as they handed me my order.
The Brews Brothers coffee shop was always busy, but there was a different energy this morning. It could’ve just been my own nerves and frazzled nature getting the best of me. Most of the seats were filled, and it’d taken me five minutes longer than I’d expected to get my order.
Five minutes I didn’t have .
“Well, you’re late,” my father said. I heard the shuffling of something in the background, a sign that he was searching for something to keep his hands busy and mind occupied on anything other than what he had going on today. “It’s not like you to be late.”
“My coffee machine died, so I had to stop and get my caffeine. Rest assured, I’m in my truck and on my way.”
“We have coffee here,” he grumbled.
I couldn’t stop the inherent gagging noise I made when thinking about the sludge my father called coffee. “That shit is swill, Daddy. You’re the only person who likes it.”
“That’s a lie. The boys like it fine.”
I didn’t have the energy or the heart to tell him that the ranch hands had hidden a single-serve maker in the breakroom so they didn’t have to drink the pot Dad brewed each morning.
It’d become a rite of passage anytime we had a new hire to watch them fill their cup and spew it across the concrete floor after the first sip.
But there was no arguing with Dad about his coffee. He and I’d had that conversation many, many times. “Alright, well, I’ll be there shortly. Is there anything you need from town?”
“Naw. The new hands arrived last night, and Bishop’s been keeping them busy with orientation while I’ve been shaking hands and kissing ass all morning.”
Bishop Bryant was Dad’s right-hand man. He’d showed up one day as nothing more than a scraggly seventeen-year-old kid severely needing a guiding hand. My dad had been too happy to take him in and show him the ropes.
Ever since, he’d become an honorary part of our family.
“If anyone can keep them in line, it’s Bishop,” I said, turning onto the familiar country road ahead. It’d still take me fifteen minutes to hit the looming white gate I loved and another ten until I reached the big house on the hill .
“Yeah,” Dad agreed. “But now I need you to get your ass here so that you can keep me in line. Your mother keeps me sane, but she won’t be home until next week.”
“Ah, now that I can do,” I laughed. “I’ll be there shortly, Dad. I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that, sugar.” He paused, then cursed under his breath. “Alright, I’ve got to go. People are starting to show up.”
With that, he hung up. Music began playing through the speakers of my truck as I reached for my coffee in the console. But the moment the drink was in my hand, I hit a giant pothole—one I’d been on the city’s ass to fix for nearly a month.
Scalding hot liquid sloshed onto my hand, and I dropped the drink on the floorboard without thinking.
“Fuck,” I yelled, pulling over the best I could on the small, two-lane road. I was halfway in the ditch, but it’d have to do. I reached for my glove compartment, popping it open to grab the roll of thick napkins I kept on hand for things like this.
I was late, my coffee was gone, and I wanted to cry.
Other than the turn of bad luck I was experiencing this morning, the past year of my life had gone exceedingly well. Dad had settled me into a role at the ranch as his and Bishop’s assistant, which sounded worse than it really was. The ranch’s schedule was hectic, and neither of them was good at communicating, so I’d stepped in to be the go-between.
It meant that Dad could focus on hosting his training seminars without worrying if it would interfere with Bishop transporting cattle to the auction—which had happened on more than one occasion in the past few years.
And then there was Ellis.
Ellis Martin and I had gone to the same school since kindergarten. His dad was my dad’s accountant, and we’d always gotten along growing up. He was primed to take over his father’s business and had been given some high profile clients—including my father and Black Springs Ranch. Dad didn’t much care for change, so he’d delegated a lot of meetings to me.
Ellis and I had spent months together, sorting through old files and financial records over late night dinners and weekend coffee runs. So, when he’d asked me out on an actual date three months ago, I’d said yes. The only excuse I could make was one I was trying desperately to forget.
The only fault I could find in Ellis was his absolute disdain for energy drinks and bacon.
Cleaning up the mess, I pulled back onto the road and continued toward the ranch. I said a prayer for my sanity, knowing I’d need it for a day filled with kissing asses and shaking hands.
Today marked the beginning of Dad’s summer training clinic. The program ran for two months but was segmented into eight two-week sessions. People from all over the country came to stay and learn from the best. This year, there’d been so much interest that Dad hired a few more helping hands and one more trainer, so it wasn’t all on his shoulders.
Try as he might to deny it, Dad couldn’t keep this up forever. His health had taken a turn in the past year, his days filled with trips to the doctor instead of long rides in the saddle. Between my mom, my sisters, and me, we’d all had to sit him down and talk about the future of his career and these clinics.
He’d asked for one more summer, and that’s what we’d agreed on.
As I cleared the cattle guard to my parent’s house, I pulled my truck into the spot next to my older sister, Cleo’s, car. I shook my head as I saw Lennox’s big ass truck was crookedly parked off to the side. She and I had always been the closest, only a year apart. I knew I could turn to her for anything and it wouldn’t be met with an ounce of judgment.
After all, I’d had to pull her from plenty of mishaps when we were younger. I wasn’t sure what it was about barrel racers, but trouble always seemed to follow them. Lennox was no exception. It was almost fun watching people push her buttons, not realizing she was the scrapper of the family, but I also didn’t need to be bailing her out of jail.
Cleo stood on the porch with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked too much like Dad, especially with that scowl across her face.
“You’re late,” she said, echoing Dad’s words from earlier as I hopped out of my truck.
“Good morning, sunshine. I’m so glad to see you, too.”
Her face broke into a smile as I ran toward her. She wrapped me in a tight hug the way she always had when I was a kid, surrounding me with a sharp cinnamon scent that reminded me of the coffee I’d spilled.
“Please tell me you have caffeine hidden somewhere,” I groaned.
She pulled back. “I thought you stopped and got coffee?”
“And I spilled it,” I said, grimacing as I remembered the liquid gold splashed across my floorboard. “That damn pothole still isn’t fixed, and I wasn’t paying attention.”
Cleo pursed her lips, tilting her head for me to follow her into the garage. In the corner, there was an old, white refrigerator that was damn near as old as I was. It only housed drinks, mainly Dad and Bishop’s beer and a shitload of sweet tea, but as my sister pulled on the door, I could’ve wept and cried.
Because there, amongst the sea of yellow beer cans, was the silver and blue energy drink I loved so much.
“Oh god, I could kiss you!” I said, surging forward and gripping it tightly between my palms.
She laughed, closing the door. “I know I shouldn’t be enabling your bad habits?—”
I reached out and placed my pointer finger against her lips. “Shh, we don’t have to tell a soul. Our secret.” I popped open the can, groaning as the first hint of sour bubbles landed on my tongue. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”
“Are you talking to me or the can?” my sister asked.
“Look, I’m glad you’re back…”
“But I pale compared to your precious energy drink,” she said, holding her hands up. “I get it.”
I looked over the rim, giving her a smile. “It really is good to see you, Cleo. I’m glad you’re back.”
She stuck her hands in her pocket, chewing on her bottom lip. “Yeah, me too.”
Cleo had been in Montana for the past few years with her husband. He’d gone up to work on a dude ranch with his brother. What was supposed to last for one summer had turned into three years, but they were finally back.
“Cleo? Lenny? Josie?” Dad’s voice echoed in the small space as he wandered in from the small door off the side of the garage. “Damn girls, I swear?—”
“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, old man,” I said, wagging my finger in his direction. “It’s been one hell of a morning, and Cleo is the only reason I haven’t run for the hills yet.”
He walked over and pulled me into a tight hug. “Empty promises,” he whispered in my ear. “You wouldn’t leave me to fend off the wolves by myself.”
I pulled back, sweeping my gaze over the man before me. His face was haggard, showing more lines and dark circles that I didn’t want to acknowledge.
I already felt guilty about being late this morning. I should’ve stayed at the ranch last night, so I was here first thing in the morning. It was bad enough that Mom wasn’t here to witness his last first day at the clinic he’d dedicated his life to. She’d gone up to Tennessee to help our aunt recover from a bad car accident, and likely wouldn’t be back until the beginning of July .
Today was all about him, and I decided right here and now not to let anything else cast a dark cloud over the day.
“Come on, you two. There’s someone I want you to meet,” my dad said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and tugging me out of the garage with Cleo on my heels.
It was only nine in the morning, but the Texas sun beat down on us without mercy. Thankfully, we’d had a wet spring, so the grass still had some color before the summer eventually sucked the life from everything.
There was truly nothing like home. The land had been in my family for generations, and we’d made it ours in every way we could. Mom and Dad had offered us each a slice of land to build on when the time came to settle down, and two months ago, I’d taken them up on the offer.
It was a twenty-acre plot hidden away from the main house by a large grove of oak trees. A small pond was hidden beneath their canopies, just shy of the clearing where construction had begun two weeks ago. I was there the day the concrete slab had been poured, wiping tears away because it’d felt unreal.
For so long, I never thought I’d be secure enough to plant roots. I was always on the go, wandering through a series of broken hearts and dead-end jobs that did nothing but add to the minefield of my life.
“You know, Lenny is the last single daughter, Dad. You should be shoving her in the direction of hot cowboys,” I teased.
My dad scrunched up his face. “As if I’d let any of you loose on these boys. You’d all eat them alive, and I’d have no help left. Besides,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “No one’s good enough for any of you.”
“And you don’t have a ring on your finger yet, Josie,” Cleo called.
I turned over my shoulder, sticking my tongue out in her direction and earning a middle finger from my dear sister before Dad caught her.
“You remember how I got word that one of my buddies from my rodeo days passed during the spring?” Dad asked, and I nodded.
It’d been a somber day in the Hayes household. Dad had just gotten back from the doctor, a visit that told him the lifestyle changes he’d implemented last year weren’t working as well as they’d hoped, when the phone rang informing him of the news.
Dad hadn’t said a word. Just walked out the door, saddled up his horse, and spent the day riding around the ranch. When he’d gotten home, his eyes were red-rimmed, but Mom and I’d pretended not to notice.
We did a lot of pretending these days.
“Well, Frank never married or had kids, but he’d taken in a boy that was as good as his own. The kid made quite a name for himself in the training scene before quitting. He’d never said why or what happened, but…”
Frank .
I stopped hearing anything after that goddamn name because I couldn’t think about it without thinking of him .
Of Tennessee skies and the sweet heat of summer. Of heated kisses and hours tangled in sheets that smelled of pine and leather.
Of the man I left behind with nothing more than a note with two words.
“Ah, there he is!” My dad waved at a man standing in front of us talking to Bishop. His back was toward us, but I’d have known him anywhere. And when he turned, all the air was stolen from my lungs. “Girls, meet Lincoln Carter. Lincoln, meet two of my girls—Josie and Cleo.”