Chapter 29 Willa
Willa
Dean was awake before the sun broke the horizon.
He disappeared toward the barn to see if there was anything he could do to prep for the day, and when Soul and Venom rolled up after breakfast, he took them on a tour around the ranch.
He was never great about sitting still, and even if he won’t admit it, the smile on his face when he left this morning was proof that a part of him missed this place.
A few hours ago, he came back to the cabin and showered before heading into town to talk with his lawyer. He probably would have dragged me along with him if he knew I was planning to go visit my father the moment he left, but I didn’t say anything. This is something I need to do by myself.
I take the road to Elliott Ranch instead of cutting along the path that connects it to Ironside Ridge. While I’ve used that quick access hundreds of times over the years, something about it doesn’t feel right anymore. The short time I was in Vegas created this distance between myself and this town.
Between who I was before and who I want to be now.
My entire life, I considered this place home.
I planned to stay here long after my father was gone.
This land was mine to tend, and someday, I saw my children running around like I used to.
But that was a future I was never going to have with Kincaid.
And now, I’m wondering if that was meant to be my future at all.
Maybe I was always meant for something else, and I was too scared to realize it.
Now, when I stare out at the horizon, a different future sits ahead of me.
One where I don’t stay here at all. One where Dean and I build our own life, on our own terms, far away from here.
I’ll miss this horizon and the animals. But I won’t miss the version of myself who thought I didn’t deserve more.
I refuse to be her again.
Dad spots me walking up when I’m almost at the barn. He tosses a bag of feed to the side and brushes his hands on his jeans.
It’s busy around the ranch in springtime. Seasonal ranch hands bustle around, fixing fence lines and irrigation issues that cropped up during the winter months. Dad hurt his back last summer and never fully recovered, so this past year, he’s needed even more help.
“Surprised you’re showing your face.” Dad rests his arms on the gate between us.
“I came to talk about Nightmare.”
He tips his head back in a laugh. “You’re here about your fucking horse?”
“Harloe offered for me to move her to her family’s ranch. They have a stall ready for her, and they’ll be here later this week to pick her up. I want to make sure you aren’t going to cause any problems.” It takes everything in me to keep my tone even.
I’ve never had a spine around my father. He made sure of that by whittling down my confidence over the years. As I stare into his light-blue eyes, I remind myself that I no longer want to be that person.
“I’m not the one causing problems around here, Willa. You’re the one intent on destroying your family. Showing your face in town with Dean Graham. I thought I warned you about him.”
“He makes me happy.”
“Happy?” Dad’s voice is filled with amusement. “You think happiness keeps this place running? That it feeds the cattle or repairs the roof over your precious, spoiled head? You and I had a deal.”
“It’s pointless now.” I shrug. “Kincaid and Tate cut you out. They’re selling the land. It’s done.”
“Why do you think that is?” His tone is ice cold. “If you’d have done your job keeping him happy, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“My job?” I laugh, stretching my arms at my sides. “This is my life, Dad. I’m tired of you treating me like I’m just one of your employees. I’m done with this ranch and all the expectations that come with it. Kincaid and I are over. As far as I’m concerned, Eden can do your bidding now. I’m done.”
“You’re done when I say you’re done.” His teeth clench. “Your sister’s been soothing the situation you fucked up, but this is your mess. You’re going to fix things with Kincaid and make sure he gets me my mineral rights.”
“I’m not doing anything for you.”
“Oh really?” He narrows his eyes, straightening up. “It would be unfortunate if something happened to your new boyfriend just because you were an uncooperative, selfish little bitch.”
This time, he doesn’t bother veiling his threat like he did years ago. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Dad has only become more ruthless over the years, and it’s worst with me and Eden. There was a time that he scared me. Now, I’m done bowing down.
“Are you threatening Dean’s life?”
“He’s a biker. A felon. I’m sure his kind turn up dead all the time. Cops wouldn’t even worry about it.”
My hands clench into fists. “You know what, I dare you to try something. Dean isn’t the kid you remember. You want to go toe-to-toe with him, then I’ll let you two work it out.”
I turn to walk away, but he raises his voice.
“What about your mother? Maybe the cops would be interested in what really happened the night she died.”
My gaze meets his over my shoulder, and I spin to face him.
“You’d really do that, wouldn’t you? After all these years, you’d dig that up just to keep me under your control.
Do you know what? I don’t care. Tell them whatever you want.
And while you’re talking to the cops, maybe you should get a few of your own sins off your chest. We both know I’m not the only one with secrets.
I bet the cops would be interested to find out what really happened to the sheriff who started looking into the dead cattle.
And I bet Eden would love to know what really happened to that boyfriend she planned to run away with.
I lived here more than half my life, Dad.
I know where all the bodies are buried. I hope you enjoy rotting beside them. ”
At that, I walk away, leaving the weight of the last decade behind me in the dirt.
For the first time in years, my heart is lighter. Regret isn’t weighing it down. I’m moving forward.
It’s a long walk back to Ironside Ridge, and even farther to the cabin I’m staying at with Dean. By the time it’s within view, the sun is setting. There’s no sign of Dean’s bike, which hopefully means the lawyer has ideas about how to save this land.
Reds and oranges paint the sky, washing away the clear blue day. A gentle spring breeze whips my hair around my shoulders as I walk up to the cabin.
When Dean was a teenager, he’d throw parties in this cabin when no one was staying here.
I still remember the beer bottles lining the front railing.
The spot where they stoked a fire still has no vegetation, and the piece of railing that broke when Dean got into a fight with a kid messing with his brother is still broken.
I tried my first beer on this porch, and even spending all those years with Kincaid, I avoided this part of the property because it reminded me of Dean.
The old wooden steps creak as I climb them. But I pause at the top when I notice the door is cracked.
“Dean?” I push the door open an inch.
Silence comes from inside. Every creak of the floorboards has me on edge. Maybe I didn’t latch the door like I thought I did, and an animal found its way in. The wood is warped and not well cared for. Kincaid really let this building go. He’s let so much of the ranch go.
I freeze just inside the door, considering leaving. But it’s a long walk back to the barn or the house.
Something shuffles outside, and I slip inside, closing the door behind me. The muted sound of footsteps circles the cabin, telling me someone is definitely out there, sneaking around.
I shuffle back a step, trying to put some distance between me and the door in case they barge through. But with how rickety and worn the floorboards are, every step feels like alarm bells ringing. Thankfully, the breeze sways the squeaky porch swing, masking some of the noise I’m making.
The footsteps continue to circle the cabin, drawing closer. So I reach into my back pocket and pull out my phone, dialing Dean.
It goes straight to voicemail.
“Answer your phone,” I whisper to myself as I press the button again, but it goes to voicemail again.
Tucking my phone away, I listen as the footsteps start to draw closer. Until the porch creaks under the weight of boots. I shouldn’t have closed the door because all it does is tell them where I am when they left it open.
The cabin is small, with one bedroom at the back and a bathroom off to the side of the kitchen. If I can get to the bathroom, maybe I can climb out the window as they come through the front.
A shadow creeps under the door as the person nears it. They pause, shifting on their feet outside. I take one step backward, then another, hoping the creaks are disguised by the breeze.
My heart hammers in my chest, and I hold my breath.
Could my father have sent someone so quickly?
Is Kincaid angry about last night?
Maybe someone followed us here from Vegas.
What does it say about the situation I’ve put myself in when there are that many options for who might be after me? It should probably make me reconsider my choices, but strangely, I find peace in knowing that, if this is the end, I chose Dean.
The door handle starts to turn, and I shuffle backward, running into a wall as the front door swings open. A shadowed figure bursts through, and all I see is the glint of a gun before the shot rings out.
Pain blooms in my stomach as I stumble and fall to my knees. Blood pours down the front of my shirt as they take another step toward me. But instead of firing again, they pause in the shadows.
The faint hum of a motorcycle sounds at a distance.
Dean is coming.
He’s almost here.
The person bolts from the house, and I crumble against the wall, holding my stomach as my vision gets blurry.
The rumble of a motorcycle draws closer. But it feels so far away.
I feel so far away.
Blood seeps through my fingers and my vision spots.
Outside, the engine cuts. Dean’s boot steps on the wobbly porch planks make the whole house groan.
“Hey, princess. Sorry I missed your call. I was almost here.” He pushes open the door with a smile on his face.
I suppose that’s a nice way to go. Basking in his smile.
But when he sees me on the floor, it slips, and there’s only panic. Dean drops to his knees, and I think he’s holding my hand or the wound, but I’m numb. I can’t feel him.
No more pain should be a good thing, but I know it isn’t.
His lips move, but I can no longer make out what he’s saying. His eyes are angry and full of fear. A waterfall of emotions cascades over his face.
“Dean.” I don’t know if his name comes out or if it’s in my head.
I don’t know if I’m still here or floating over us, looking down at myself.
I don’t know if this blinding light is heaven or someone here to help.
At least I’ll die in Dean’s arms.