16. Willy
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Willy
I clap my hands before anybody can stab another potato, and both Red and Emmett look up with the same expression I’ve seen every time I announce one of my brilliant ideas.
“Right,” I say. “I’ve made an executive decision.”
Red keeps cutting into his steak without missing a beat. “I’m voting against it.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“I know who’s making it.”
Emmett chuckles into his drink while I lean back in my chair and sigh like I’ve suffered a terrible injustice.
“I’d love a little trust around here.”
Red finally looks up. “You spent half an hour trying to convince me a pair of goats would improve ranch security.”
“They would’ve.”
“They would’ve eaten my truck.”
I wave him off. “You always focus on the negatives.”
“What do you want, Kane?”
“A bonfire.”
Red pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth before giving me a look that says I interrupted dinner for that. “That’s your big announcement?”
“It is.”
Emmett wipes his hands on a napkin. “We’ve got work before sunrise.”
“We’ve got work every day. Tonight belongs to us.
” Neither of them says anything, so I keep going.
“This ranch has turned into one long safety meeting. Everybody eats while talking about broken gates, busted tack and who’s checking fences after dark.
I’d rather spend one evening arguing over burnt marshmallows. ”
Red carries his plate to the sink. “I’d rather finish dinner.”
“You can do both.”
He rinses his plate and shakes his head. “You’re exhausting.”
“I prefer entertaining.” I stand, grab my truck keys from the counter and twirl them around one finger. “I’m going to invite Arizona.”
Red glances over his shoulder while drying his hands. “You’ve already decided she’s coming?”
“I’ve decided she’s getting asked.”
He rolls his eyes, but I catch the corner of his mouth twitching before I head outside.
The ranch has felt different lately. Every conversation circles back to broken equipment, suspicious accidents or whoever’s walking the property after dark, and nobody seems able to relax for more than a couple of minutes before their eyes drift toward another window.
Arizona changes the mood without trying. She laughs, everybody else laughs, and the whole place remembers what it felt like before people started expecting trouble around every corner.
I pull into the boarding house lot and find her sitting on the front steps with her guitar across her lap, filling another page of her notebook.
She keeps writing until my truck door shuts, then looks up with an easy smile. “Hey, cowboy.”
“I’ve come to steal you.”
She closes the notebook. “I feel like there are laws against that.”
“I’ll risk it.”
“What if I refuse?”
“I’ll embarrass myself by begging.”
She laughs and slides the notebook into her guitar case. “Bold plan.”
“It’s gotten me this far.”
She props her elbows on her knees. “What am I saying yes to?”
“A bonfire.”
She studies me with a grin tugging at one corner of her mouth. “That sounds wonderfully random.”
“It isn’t. Everybody at the ranch needs a good night.”
“Tough week?”
I roll my eyes. “You’ve noticed Red.”
“I’ve noticed Red.”
“Now imagine him after three conversations about fence repairs and two arguments over missing equipment.”
She laughs again. “So this is basically an intervention.”
I smirk. “For my own sanity.”
“I thought you enjoyed living dangerously.”
“I do. Ranch meetings are where I draw the line.”
She snaps the guitar case shut. “Who’s coming?”
“Me, Red, Emmett, and Sadie if she sweet talks her dad into stretching bedtime.”
Her smile softens straight away. “I was hoping you’d say Sadie.”
“I’ve got a suspicion she likes you.”
Arizona grins. “I like that kid.”
We roll into Dusty Spur as the last strip of daylight disappears behind the mountains, and I barely shut off the truck before I spot Red feeding another log into a fire that’s already burning like he lit it an hour ago.
I climb out and glance around the yard.
A ring of chairs waits around the fire pit, a cooler sits beside them packed with beer and soda, and café lights hang between the fence posts.
I look at Red. “You decorate?”
He snorts. “Try again.”
“I figured you’d bullied somebody into doing it.”
“I asked.”
Arizona laughs as she joins me, taking in the ranch while horses graze beyond the fence. “I like it.”
She holds his gaze just long enough to make the cowboy clear his throat and reach for another log instead.
Emmett carries the grocery bags toward the picnic table. “If anybody plans on eating tonight, I could use another pair of hands.”
“I brought chips,” I announce.
“You brought six bags of chips.”
Emmett pulls steaks from one of the bags. “I’d be more impressed if you included vegetables.”
“I almost bought salsa.”
“You realize salsa isn’t a vegetable?”
“It’s made from vegetables. That’s practically the same thing.”
Red shakes his head while checking the grill. “You act like you’re in court when you argue.”
“I’d make an excellent lawyer.”
“You’d get arrested before lunch.”
Before Emmett can answer, the back door flies open and Sadie tears across the yard with a blanket tied around her shoulders like a cape.
“Everybody look!” She skids to a stop in front of the fire and plants both hands on her hips. “I’m Campfire Girl.”
Arizona grins. “Well, Campfire Girl, what exactly do you do?”
Sadie thinks so hard I swear I can hear the gears turning. “I save marshmallows… brush ponies… and I run faster than Daddy.”
Emmett raises an eyebrow. “You’ve beaten me once.”
“I beated you lots.”
She spins to demonstrate her superhero powers, wrapping the blanket around her legs until she pitches sideways.
Red catches her by the elbows before she reaches the dirt. “Easy there, wildfire.”
She giggles so hard she snorts. “I almost flopped.”
“You almost did.”
He straightens her little cowboy hat with two fingers before turning back to the grill. Arizona watches him with a smile she doesn’t bother hiding.
Emmett starts passing out roasting sticks while the steaks finish cooking, and Sadie marches straight over to Arizona carrying the marshmallow bag against her chest. “You gotta watch real careful.”
She slides a marshmallow onto Arizona’s stick, then demonstrates with complete concentration. “You turn it… then count… one… two… free…”
“Three,” Emmett calls.
“I know.” She doesn’t even look at him. “…Then three.”
Arizona bites her lip to hide a smile. “I’ll do exactly what Campfire Girl says.”
“You better.”
“What happens if I don’t?”
Sadie gasps. “It gets all yucky.”
“I definitely don’t want yucky.”
Arizona follows the instructions until a little flame curls around the marshmallow.
Sadie points. “Quick! Blow!”
Arizona blows it out and holds it up for inspection. “Did I pass?”
Sadie studies it with the seriousness of a rodeo judge. “It’s a tiny bit crispy.”
“I can live with that.”
Dinner settles everybody into their chairs, and before long Arizona’s telling us about a rodeo in Montana where a goat wandered into the buckle presentation and refused to leave because somebody handed it a funnel cake.
“The announcer kept trying to chase it away,” she says between laughs, “and the goat just stared at him while eating.”
I point my fork at Red. “You would’ve handled that.”
“I would’ve opened the gate.”
“The goat would’ve followed you home.”
“It would’ve learned to respect fences.”
Arizona smiles over at him. “I thought goats chewed fences.”
“They try.” I clap once. “Which brings us back to my security goat proposal.”
Emmett groans. “I knew we’d end up here.”
“You’ve been campaigning for livestock police since spring.”
Then Sadie looks around the circle with complete seriousness. “Did the goat say moo?”
Emmett sprays beer into his hand.
I double over laughing while Arizona hides her face behind both hands.
Red rubs his forehead. “No, sweetheart.”
Sadie shrugs. “Maybe that goat forgot.”
“I suppose anything’s possible,” Red says, reaching over to ruffle her curls, and she nods as though he’s finally seen reason.
The laughter keeps circling the fire while Sadie curls against Arizona with half a toasted marshmallow clutched in her sticky fist, happily chewing away as Arizona laughs over another story.
Emmett stretches out in his chair with an easy smile that I’ve barely seen all week, and even Red quits scanning the fence line long enough to stare into the fire while the horses wander through the pasture behind us.
Watching all of them together makes me think maybe this bonfire did exactly what I’d hoped it would.
A deafening blast rips across the ranch, jerking every head toward the equipment sheds before another explosion follows and a wall of orange fire surges into the night above one of the rodeo trailers.
“Shit,” Red barks as his chair flips backward behind him.
He’s already running before the rest of us reach our feet, and my pulse hammers as I spot the trailer fully ablaze.
“The trailer!”