Chapter 3
Violet
The hot sun beats down on me as I wipe my forehead with my forearm. I drop my hat back onto my head. I’ve been up since before the sun and I’ve yet to stop moving. The fields are plowed, the horses are fed, the stalls are mucked, and the chickens are fed. Not to mention, I’ve collected eggs, which I’m always so grateful for. My girls sure do produce well.
“Violet, my truck shit the bed, so I can’t pick up the grain from the Atwoods’,” Joey says, twisting his older hands together.
As I nod, I let out a sigh. “Can’t help when things go wrong, Joey. I’ll head over and pick it up.”
“No need. I spoke with Brock and someone from the brewery will drop it for us,” he says, adjusting his cowboy hat on his head.
“All right, that works. I need to clean out the chicken coop. Can you and the guys lead the horses out to the field for some exercise?”
“You don’t need to ask, Violet. I’ve told you this. We work for you. You tell us what to do and we do it,” he replies, raising an eyebrow.
I can’t imagine a better ranch hand than Joey. He was my dad’s right-hand man and now he’s mine. I’m still getting used to the idea of bossing him around. After all, he’s older than my father and it feels kinda wrong to be barking orders at him.
“I’m working on it, Joey.”
He gives me a tight grin and I know he has something on his mind. Like I said, he’s been working on this ranch long before I could even walk. I know him as well as I know my horses and he’s got something to say.
“What is it?” I ask, leaning against the wooden fence that separates us from the fields where the horses roam and graze.
He clears his throat and gazes at the ground briefly before meeting my eyes. “I don’t want to get into your personal business, but I’m just wondering if you’ve figured out what you’re going to do about finding a husband.”
I shake my head, rolling my eyes up toward the sky. I know my father is looking down thinking the exact same thing Joey just asked.
“I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do,” I admit, feeling defeated.
He nods a few times before letting out a soft sigh. “I’m an old man, Violet. Most of us here are. We’ve been with your father for a long time. I don’t want to add pressure or fuel to the fire, but I’m just worried about telling the guys that we no longer have a ranch to work at.”
It feels like knives digging into my heart listening to him. He’s right, it’s not just me who loses the ranch. Joey and all the guys that have worked so hard to make this place what it is, will be jobless.
The pressure of figuring out what to do piles heavier on my shoulders as I stare into his clear blue eyes, surrounded by wrinkles.
“If you and the guys weren’t already married I’d ask one of you.” I laugh, but I’m also sort of serious.
Joey’s eyes light up and a smile splits his face in two. “We’d all say yes to help you out. I wish we knew somebody.”
“I’m going to figure it out, Joey. No one is losing this ranch. That I can promise you,” I say, wishing I felt the conviction of my words.
He smiles and nods as he says, “I have complete faith in you, Violet. Your Daddy didn’t raise no fool.”
With that he walks into the barn and I feel like my knees are going to buckle.
My dad definitely didn’t raise no fool, but he sure as shit put me in the worst situation ever. It’s a race against the clock and it feels like I have cement on my feet.
I walk toward the barn where we keep all the hay and feed, needing a minute to myself. The stress and pressure I’m feeling right now have me feeling like I might lose it. I won’t, but I feel like I could.
As I step into the barn, the familiar scents hit me in a way they never have before. It’s like for a moment my dad is standing next to me telling me to get the hay for the horses. It never mattered if I was struggling or having a bad moment, he always said, “Cowgirls don’t cry.”
The words echo in my ears as I stare at the empty barn. I’ve lost my mother, my father, and now I risk losing my ranch. Everything I love seems to disappear and I don’t know how the hell to stop it from happening again.
Suddenly, I feel something wet hit my face and I look up. “What the hell?” Again it happens and I quickly wipe it off my face. “Is there a damn leak?” I turn around but see nothing but sunshine, although my face is still getting wet.
That’s when I realized, it’s not a leak, it’s me.
“Well Dad, I guess sometimes cowgirls do cry,” I shout.
The tears are unstoppable now. I can’t fight the overwhelming sadness and devastation I’m feeling. I haven’t cried in so long that I truly believed I was not capable of it, but that’s proving to be untrue.
I sit down on a bale of hay and drop my face into my hands. The fear of losing this ranch and of Joey and the others losing their jobs is just too much to handle. I’ve met my breaking point and it’s a horrible feeling.
“Hey, you okay?”
I snap my head up and see Callum Atwood standing at the barn door, holding a bag of grain on his massive shoulder.
Humiliation takes over as I quickly stand, turning my back to him as I wipe my eyes on my shirt. “I’m fine, what are you doing here?”
I know why he’s here, but I’m trying to stall until I feel like my face doesn’t look like I’ve been crying like a girl.
“I’m dropping off the spent grain for you. Joey called, saying his truck broke down,” he explains.
“Oh right,” I say, spinning around to face him, but keeping my eyes cast down. “I appreciate that. You can just drop it there.”
He drops the bag and instead of walking back to his truck, like I was hoping, he walks toward me. “I’m so sorry about your father. He was a real good man,” he says, forcing a grin.
“Sure was, the best. The best guy you could ever imagine, yet he finds humor in torturing me from the grave. He wants to make a point, or ruin my life, or hell, maybe he just wanted to see if he could get me to cry. I don’t know, but yeah, he was a good man,” I nearly shout.
“Damn, what the hell did he do to you?” he asks, folding his muscular arms across his chest. Arms, I might add, have ink all over them. Arms that look like he’s been working his life on a ranch, not living in luxury. Arms that right now, in the most vulnerable state I’ve ever found myself in, I wouldn’t mind wrapped around me.
“Hey, did you hear me?”
I snap out of the weird emotional break down I’m clearly having and shake my head. “He decided to have his lawyer contact me telling me if I’m not married by the time I’m thirty, I’ll lose the ranch.” I shrug, trying to keep the tears from falling again. It was humiliating enough once, I’ll never let that happen again. “But what can I do?”
“When do you turn thirty?”
I can see the pity in his eyes and I hate it. It makes me feel weak and I’m anything but weak. I’m stressed, exhausted, and clearly on my way to a breakdown, but I’m not weak.
“Two and a half months. Well, closer to two months now,” I admit.
He shakes his head, still keeping his gaze on mine. “That’s pressure no one should ever feel. I’m surprised your dad would do that to you. He was always so proud of you and everything you did, I mean do, on this ranch. He always spoke about how you loved it as much as him.”
“Yeah, well, I guess dying people say dumb shit.” I try to force a smile, but it feels as fake as it is.
“So, you need to find a husband? How’s that going to work?” he asks.
I feel like a fool for not only being caught crying, but telling Callum Atwood my personal situation. I don’t even know him well. I hardly know him at all. I’ve seen him before, but this may be the first time we’ve ever actually spoken.
Yeah, I’m 0 - 2 today with being humiliated. Atta girl, Violet.
“Look, I shouldn’t have said anything. It was a bad moment and one I’d like us both to quickly forget. So, how about we just get the rest of the grain and we both get back to work?”
I go to step around him, but he stops me with his arm. The same damn arm I was nearly drooling over moments ago.
“I’ll bring in the grain, but after I do, I think you and I should have a serious conversation.”
A serious conversation? About what?
I glance up at him and realize just how tall he is. It’s kinda nice to have someone taller than me in my boots.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts and nod. “You have five minutes until I need to get back to work. So talk quickly.”
He’s lucky I’m giving him five minutes. Every minute on this ranch counts.