8. Avery
Chapter 8
Avery
I furiously raked the brush over my mare’s flank in her stall. She flinched and side-stepped at my roughness.
“Sorry, sweet girl,” I murmured, patting her neck.
She blew out a breath and flicked her ear in my direction. I took that as a begrudging apology.
Even though it had been a few hours since the fight this morning with Dad, I still felt wired, on edge, and irritated. I couldn’t believe that he’d actually fired Bowen. No matter what I said, he wouldn’t budge on the subject.
To rub salt in the wound, Bowen had packed up and disappeared. He wasn’t answering my calls. I had no clue where he went after leaving High Plains. I just wanted to hear his voice, to tell him I’m sorry he got the brunt of my father’s anger, and I would make this right…somehow.
“Is anyone home?” Birdie called.
She ventured into the barn, carrying a tray of food. I raised my arm to get her attention.
“Over here.”
“I brought you lemonade and some cookies fresh from the oven. I thought something sweet might help to smooth over those ruffled feathers.”
I sighed and continued brushing my mare.
“That’s kind of you, Birdie.”
A pause lingered in the air for a moment or two. She set the tray aside and selected a cookie, breaking off a piece to pop it in her mouth.
“Let me guess,” she said. “You don’t think lemonade and cookies will be enough to get your father to calm down now that his hackles are up, but you’re too polite to say that to my face.”
I shook my head.
“It’s not fair to drag you into the middle of this.”
Birdie clucked her tongue and held up her hand, showing off the ring on her finger.
“Last I checked, I became part of this family in December.”
“You know what I mean.”
Birdie ducked into the stall and came to stand beside me, combing her fingers through my mare’s mane. She didn’t usually do much with the horses. Dad and I lived in the saddle, but Birdie didn’t have any interest in that. Instead, she slipped them mints from her pocket when Dad wasn’t looking.
Don’t spoil those animals, he would tell her. They’re not pets. They’re for working cattle.
I still caught her saving scraps of apples and carrots from the kitchen for them.
Birdie’s nimble fingers made quick work of my mare’s mane, weaving little braids.
“Give Grady some time to cool down,” she said. “You have to admit, this is a lot to take in. Bowen is significantly older than you, and your father…he’s worried you’re going to get hurt.”
“This is Bowen we’re talking about,” I pointed out. “He has always done everything in his power to keep me safe and look out for me.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” Birdie countered.
I glanced at her, confused. How could that be a problem? She smoothed her hands over my mare’s neck and slipped a mint from her pocket. My mare lipped it out of her palm and sniffed around for more.
“Bowen broke the chain of command,” Birdie added. “I realize I’m still new to this family, but from what I’ve observed, Grady trusts him without batting an eye. When Grady gives an order, there’s no doubt in his mind that Bowen will carry it out, come hell or high water.”
“You’re saying Bowen is being punished,” I replied. “For breaking my father’s rule about cowboys keeping their hands off me.”
“I’m saying your father’s orders have kept you safe and that gave him peace of mind. By sleeping with Bowen, you showed Grady that his word can be broken. And your precious, tender heart that he holds so dear could get hurt as a result. Grady is a strong, stubborn man, but you will always be the chink in his armor. Firing Bowen was the only way your father knew how to restore balance to the ranch and ensure that there are consequences when his orders aren’t followed.”
I closed my eyes as Birdie’s words sank in. It made so much sense. Although it didn’t soften my anger towards him. Just because he needed to maintain appearances of control on his ranch didn’t mean I couldn’t date Bowen. I wanted him in my life. I wanted him to be my husband one day.
“Dad doesn’t have to protect me from Bowen,” I said.
Birdie’s eyes softened.
“Avery, you’re in love. That’s a father’s greatest wish and worst nightmare rolled into one when it comes to his daughter. Go try talking to him again. He’s in his office.”
I took a deep breath and passed the brush to her. Since my parents divorced when I was little, my mother wasn’t around to help me navigate issues like this with my father. It felt good to talk to another woman—a motherly figure I could look up to.
Heading into the house, I made my way down the hall to Dad’s office. When I knocked at the door, it slid open a few inches.
Dad sat at his massive polished oak desk, looking over a fat stack of files. At this time of year, cattle sales were high, which meant managing the financial paperwork was a headache.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, tracing the wood grain of the door frame with my fingernail.
He paused and glanced up at the sound of my voice. Closing the file he was looking at, he leaned back in his chair. The silence was deafening.
“I realize you’re upset,” I continued. “And you have every right to be.”
Dad made no reply, pinning me with his steady gaze. It wouldn’t last long—he couldn’t resist the urge to speak his mind. I had to make my case, fast and foolproof.
“I love him, Dad,” I whispered. “I want Bowen back. It doesn’t feel like home without him here.”
A shadow flickered across Dad’s eyes. He glanced away, rummaging in his desk for God knows what.
“Bowen is nearly twice your age,” he said. “It’s not acceptable.”
I gritted my teeth as heat prickled up my spine.
“But you know he’s good to me—”
“It doesn’t matter. I know he wasn’t supposed to touch you, and he did it anyway.”
I pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes, fighting back a surge of frustration. We’d barely been talking for two minutes and I could already feel my temper beginning to rise.
“You’re not fucking listening .”
“What do you want me to say, Avery?” Dad shot back. “Bowen knew you were off limits. I should have noticed the way you two looked at each other. I should have caught it earlier and stopped it. But I didn’t, so I’m putting my foot down now. I don’t care if you hate me. Bowen is too old for you, and he will never have my blessing when it comes to you.”
My throat felt tight. So that was it. The ultimatum had been set.
“Then I’m going with him,” I said in a strangled voice.
Grady blinked in surprise, speechless.
I felt like my heart had been ripped in two. I never dreamed of leaving High Plains. For as long as I could remember, I had imagined living and dying on this land. I had imagined my children racing across the field and filling up every room in this big house with their laughter. I had imagined being buried on a peaceful patch of land next to my husband while the mountains in the distance watched over my grave.
I had imagined teaching my children to love this place as much as my father had taught me to love it.
But those dreams and fantasies meant nothing to me without Bowen.
“If that’s how you really feel about it,” Dad said at last. His voice was gravelly and low, like it pained him to speak. “I won’t stop you.”
My ears roared. I struggled to take in a breath.
No matter how many disagreements and arguments I had with my father, we always managed to find a resolution between us. I never thought it would come to this though. I never thought I would have to choose—the ranch or the man I loved.
Moving on autopilot, I made my way to my room. I grabbed a backpack from my closet and started stuffing it with clothes.
This had to be a bad dream, right? Dad didn’t really mean it. For my entire life, he had been preparing me to take over High Plains one day. Would he sell it when I moved out? He had no other children to leave it to. Obviously Birdie would be named in his will, but only if she outlived him.
As I scanned the room for anything else I might need, I spotted a framed picture on the wall. I was eight years old, proudly displaying the ribbon I’d won at a riding competition. Dad stood beside me, looking every bit the gruff, serious man I knew him to be.
On my other side stood Bowen, two fingers hooked into my horse’s bridle—a precaution to prevent my horse from bolting while I was distracted as I smiled for the camera.
I couldn’t imagine my life without him watching over me.
Digging my phone out of my pocket, I tried to call Bowen again. No response.
“Fuck, why won’t you pick up?” I grumbled.
I sent him a text instead.
Need to talk. Where are you?
Hoisting the backpack over my shoulder, I skirted past Dad’s office and slipped out the door. I didn’t have a plan, didn’t know where I was going. All I knew was that I had to get out of here to clear my head.
My phone buzzed. I scrambled to dig it out of my pocket, heart racing, hoping to finally get a response from Bowen.
Instead, it was a text from Birdie.
You need to see this. Rory sent it.
Attached was a video. I considered ignoring it, but something made me watch it anyway.
It was shaky and the audio was distorted, but I could clearly see Isaac tied to a rope, attached to the back of Bowen’s truck with Bowen in the front seat. He gunned the engine, making Isaac skid on the pavement.
“What do you say, asshole? Are we going for a spin around town?”
Holy shit. What the hell was Bowen doing?
Isaac’s voice was shrill with fear. I had to admit it was satisfying to hear the smug tone he typically used with me was completely nonexistent now.
“Okay! Okay!”
Bowen got out of his truck, standing over Isaac with his arms crossed. Jesus Christ, he looked hot—his shirt stretched tight across his broad, muscled back, delivering that menacing glower.
“Let me go, all right? Are you happy now? I’ll leave. Tonight.”
There was a pause. Bowen remained unmoving. Isaac finally spoke.
“And I won’t contact Avery again.”
The video ended. I watched it five more times, memorizing every movement, every gesture, every word. My heart swelled in my chest. Leaving the ranch behind, I went in search of Bowen.