Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Jasper
By the time I make it back to the barn, my boots feel like they weigh fifty pounds.
It’s been one of those days. A heifer decided fences were merely a suggestion this morning, which led to a multi-cow jailbreak that took hours and a whole hell of a lot of patience to handle.
The irrigation pump quit sometime around noon.
That was a nightmare all on its own. Then one of the trail horses threw a shoe halfway through a ride, while another bucked a guest off her back.
To top it all off, my stomach is screaming at me because in the middle of trying to handle all of that, I managed to skip my lunch.
It’s been a goddamn shitshow, and I’m relieved it’s over. At least until sunrise tomorrow morning, when, I’m sure, another hellacious mess will be waiting for me. The ranch has never felt more alive…or more exhausting.
As I’m putting my tools away, I notice the light upstairs is still on.
A smile tugs at my mouth before I even reach the staircase because I know who’s up there.
Chesney. For the past month, it’s become almost routine.
I’ll finish with the cattle, he’ll finish with the books, and no matter how long the day has been, we always end up finding each other before we head home.
The office doesn’t even look the same anymore. The boxes are gone, shelves line one wall, filled with color-coded binders, and a whiteboard hangs behind the desk with occupancy rates, payroll reminders, and reservation notes scribbled across it in Chesney’s messy handwriting.
Cluttered chaos has now become organized chaos.
And I must admit… I kind of love it.
Chesney doesn’t notice me right away. Music plays softly from the speaker on his desk while he stares at his laptop, one elbow propped on the arm of the chair, absently rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“You’re still here,” I murmur, walking farther into the small space.
He lifts his head, a tired smile curving his mouth. “There you are.”
Three simple words fill me with so much warmth. I don’t think he’ll ever understand how much I like hearing them.
I lean against the edge of the desk, adjusting a crooked picture frame. “Everything okay?”
Closing the laptop with a soft click, he says, “Better than okay.”
That gets my attention. “Oh?”
Chesney’s grin grows, the creases around his eyes deepening. “The guest ranch,” is all he says.
“What about it?”
He reaches for a folder in one of the desk drawers, then slides it toward me. “Take a look for yourself.”
I scan the reservation sheet, not really knowing what I’m looking for at first. But then it clicks. “No.”
Chesney laughs. “Yes.”
My eyes lift, a grin spreading across my face. “We’re booked through the end of November?”
He nods. “Keep reading.”
My heart leaps. “December’s almost full.” That earns me another nod. “Holy shit, we even have a handful of reservations booked through February!”
Chesney chuckles, the sound rumbling from his chest. “I thought you’d like that.”
I blink, mouth agape. “But how?”
The launch of the guest ranch went better than I could’ve imagined, and I’m so glad we were able to pull it off before Chesney’s dad passed. Knowing how much it meant to him when he showed up made everything worth it.
Chesney ended up taking almost two weeks off after the funeral to allow himself time to grieve. If I had it my way, he would’ve taken even more time off, but that man is as stubborn as they come. Besides, he seems much happy being back in it.
Since we had no one to handle that side of the business during his absence, and I was entirely too busy to even attempt it, Wade, thankfully, offered to stay in town a little while longer and help keep everything afloat over there.
That was its own unique kind of shitshow, considering Wade’s a general contractor and not a dude ranch concierge manager, but somehow, he made it work.
Chesney’s smile widens into something unmistakably proud. “Those influencers we hired to stay opening weekend.”
“Remind me again. They’re the ones that stayed in Cabin Two?”
He nods. “They both posted about us a couple weeks ago.”
I vaguely remember them. A husband-and-wife duo that travels together, each of them having their own thriving social media platforms where they share reviews of all the places they visit around the world.
I was hesitant about the idea when Chesney first presented it to me.
Mostly because their fees aren’t cheap and we hadn’t had a chance to make any money yet.
It felt like too much of a risk without the promise of reward.
So many things could’ve went wrong. They could’ve been hated the whole and experience and chose to nit-pick their entire stay.
That would’ve been it for us. First impressions are so important, especially in business, and between the two of them, they have well over a million followers.
I’ve done my best to put their stay out of my mind since they left because I was making myself sick worrying about every little what-if.
“By the look on your face, I’m guessing they were positive posts?”
“If you consider another influencer and a travel blogger booking with us, listing the married couple as their reference, then both posting raving reviews about us on their respective platforms…” Chesney shrugs, biting back a smile. “Then, yeah, I’d say they were positive posts.”
“Holy shit.” My eyes widen, and unlike him, I’m not able to hold back my grin. “That’s what led to”—I gesture toward the folder—“all this?”
“Yup. They all posted about us, and the internet did whatever it does.”
Laughing in disbelief, I say, “You’re telling me people saw a video or two online…”
“And decided they wanted to become cowboys for a weekend,” he finishes for me.
“That’s…ridiculous,” I say, removing my hat and running my fingers through my hair. “And fucking awesome.”
Chesney chuckles as he sits back in his chair. “It really is. We’ve gotten at least one or two new reservations a day for the past week and a half.”
I shake my head, half laughing, half overwhelmed. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“You’re right, Chesney is a great start.”
Rolling my eyes, I laugh softly. But then I look at him—really look—and the humor morphs into something much deeper. “You built this.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“We built this,” he says, his eyes softening as they hold mine.
I shake my head, swallowing thickly. “No. I never would’ve gotten it off the ground.
” The words come easily because they’re true.
“Hell, it never would’ve even been a suggestion in my mind had it not been for you.
My dad dreamed about this place before he died.
We both did. But you… You made it real, Chesney. You did this.”
A splash of pink colors his cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck. “Well, you kept the lights on long enough for me to.”
My throat tightens, and this time, it’s my face that warms. Neither of us says anything for a moment, but the air grows thicker.
It’s funny to think that when this all started, the silence between us was unsettling.
Now, it feels like home. Things haven’t been perfect.
There have been mornings Chesney has woken up, drenched in sweat, after having dreams about his dad and couldn’t go back to sleep.
Days when I find him staring toward the Jennings ranch, and I could tell he was far away inside his own head.
Some nights Chesney will call me, and we’ll stay on the phone until one of us falls asleep, like hearing my voice or knowing I’m on the other end of the line quiets the noise in his head.
Other nights, I’ll drive over with dinner, then sit on the porch with him, saying absolutely nothing for hours.
Grief has sunk its ugly claws into him. Again.
But this time, he’s not carrying it alone. This time, he’s not shutting me out.
“You look tired.” Chesney’s voice pulls me back.
I huff a breath. “I am.”
“You skipped lunch again.” Not a question.
“Maybe.”
“Jasper…”
“Okay, first of all, how do you even know that? And secondly, I got busy today.” I shrug. “It slipped my mind.”
Chesney stands and walks around the desk until he’s directly in front of me. Sighing dramatically, he says, “I asked that one ranch hand.” He snaps his fingers, like he’s trying to recall the guy’s name. “The one with the twang and the chip on his shoulder that’s about fourteen years old.”
“Monty,” I offer with a chuckle, putting him out of his misery. “And he’s twenty-one, not fourteen.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He waves me off. “I ran into him in the barn earlier and asked him.”
“What a little snitch,” I mutter under my breath, biting back an amused grin.
“So…” Chesney raises a brow as he hooks an arm around my waist. It’s insane the way my body immediately responds to the touch.
“So?”
“You hungry?”
“Why? What’d you have in mind?”
“There’s chili in the crockpot at my house, if you want some.”
A smile tugs at my mouth. “Chili sounds good.”
His other hand finds mine. Our fingers link together so naturally, and it makes me think about the first few times we touched each other. How timid we were, like we were waiting for someone to tell us to stop.
“Good.” Chesney steps even closer, a mouthwatering smirk flashing back at me.
My heart slams into my ribcage, and my body warms immediately.
I’m hyperaware of his proximity. And the intoxicating way he smells.
And the way my body seems to naturally gravitate toward him like we’re magnets.
My gaze dips down to his mouth before coming back up, and suddenly, I’m starving for an entirely different reason.
“Before we leave,” I rasp. “I really oughta congratulate my business partner.”
A groan sounds in his throat. “Is that right?”