26. Montana
MONTANA: Meet me in the field
ARCHER: Beer?
MONTANA: All of it
ARCHER: Oh boy…
JENSEN: I’ll be there
MASON: Us too
JENSEN: Are you always gonna answer for him?
MASON: Probably. I think he has this group chat on silent
MONTANA: I’d be offended if I wasn’t so pissed
ARCHER: Plenty of time to be offended later, let’s just get to the field
Pocketing my phone, I grab the beer in my fridge and trudge out to the barn I’d repainted last summer, the red-and-white paint still crisp in the lamp light. Sliding into the driver’s seat of the ATV, I have to take a steadying breath as my thoughts immediately go to the night I had Ellison spread out on the seat as she screamed my name.
I’d gotten this damn thing for Grandad, but I’d never be able to look at it the same. I’d intended for him to cruise around in it, but he said he much preferred commandeering the tractor instead.
Because of course he did.
I could use any vehicle on hand here to pull the ATV out if he got it stuck—hell, I could probably heave it out of most situations without any help at all. But that wasn’t my life and while I wasn’t complaining, I wasn’t not complaining either.
It starts up with a soft purr and I drive it out the back and onto the dirt path, cutting through the yard and disappearing farther away from my responsibilities.
And the way this night had gotten out of hand.
Hurt and anger course through my veins, the entire night on a loop inside my head. I’m exhausted from the highs and lows, but I’ll be damned if this is the universe’s way of telling me Ellison isn’t the girl for me.
Because she’s not just the girl for me.
She’s the only girl for me.
Grumbling, I park next to the firepit and climb out, gathering some newspaper and lighter fluid from the seat beside me. My boots are silent on the crushed grass, the area well acquainted with my late-night visits.
Gathering some wood, I set everything up and light a match. The blaze is immediate, the accelerant doing its job enough that I’m already nursing my first beer when the sound of Archer’s truck coming down the path disturbs the sanctuary of this space.
Doors open—not one but two—and I can only assume my cousin brought his girlfriend. I like Bea, and it’s not that I don’t want her here, but I’m not really looking for any words of wisdom from the female persuasion.
“You got a permit for this fire?” a husky male voice asks from behind me, and I chuckle as Jensen drops a folding chair next to me and sits with an audible sigh.
“No, Sheriff, I don’t.”
Cracking open a beer, he stares at the fire before shrugging. “I’m off duty.”
“No need to worry. I filled up the water barrel before I came over,” Archer says with a huff as he sets his chair down on the other side of Jensen. “You’re welcome,” he says pointedly as he leans up to look at me. I raise my beer and watch as his eyebrows follow the motion.
“Thanks,” I say half-heartedly.
“Jesus, what happened to you?” he asks and I shake my head once.
“Fuck if I know.” Turning to Jensen, I ask, “Why were you with Archer?”
I can’t be sure in the light, but I’m almost positive he blushes. “Had to pick something up.”
“He likes Bea’s soap,” Archer adds helpfully with a smirk.
“Is that a euphemism?” I ask, immediately causing both of them to scowl.
“No,” Jensen says before squaring his shoulders. “I’ve been workin’ so much with us being short-staffed, and I’m exhausted—barely got time to shower let alone sleep. Been using that soap she makes and it’s nice, doesn’t dry out my skin.”
He takes a drink of his beer and I reach over and touch his arm. “Oh, that is nice,” I say to get a rise out of him. It works, but I can’t dodge the jab he throws at my bicep in retaliation. We laugh and he tells us about the shenanigans happening over in Clementine Creek including the good, bad, and absolutely ridiculous.
It feels good to laugh—even if just for a short while.
“You guys get started without us?” Mason says with a smile as he steps out of the shadows, grabbing chairs for himself and Bodhi from the back of Archer’s truck.
The worn path between the properties is the perfect go-between and we use it often.
The first time they came upon the fire, it had been to make sure the field wasn’t burning. After that, it was because this is where we all gather now—aside from game night.
At one point a variety of the Thayers would make a habit of stopping by, but it didn’t happen as often with them all settling down, leaving the bachelor life in the rearview mirror.
“Montana is havin’ a meltdown,” Archer says before taking a sip of his beer.
I scowl at him then look back at the newcomers. “Just wanted to come out and enjoy the night.”
Bodhi’s lips twitch the slightest bit as he accepts a beer from Mason and settles into his chair. There’s an ease to their relationship—a level of comfort and comradery that the rest of us will never breach. They may not be bonded by blood, but there’s not a single person who can argue that they’re not brothers.
“Uh-huh. So trouble in paradise then?” Mason asks with a cocky smile as he kicks his legs out in front of him, crossing one work boot over the other.
“No,” I say at the same time Jensen and Archer say yes. The jerks. Looking back at the fire, I go for flippant. “Unless you got some words of wisdom for me, y’all can shut it.”
“Isn’t he supposed to be the nice one?” Jensen asks the group, causing a couple of snickers as the flames from the fire climb into the night sky.
“I am the nice one. Things just got complicated tonight.”
“We’re gonna need more than that,” Jensen pries. Whether it’s just his natural inclination to dig for information or that he’s a gossipy fucker I’ll never truly know, but tonight I can’t fight it.
“I took her on a date, a real one, date went to shit—we pivoted—date got better. Went back to her place and her father showed up with an it’s complicated story about him bein’ back in Blackstone Falls.”
“When you say you went back to her place, you mean…” Mason says with a grin and the one track mind of a guy in his early twenties while completely ignoring my glare. Bodhi sighs heavily next to him, and I appreciate the unspoken support.
Turning my attention to Archer, I watch as his eyes widen with recognition and sympathy. He’s the only one who knows what happened, the one who helped me build an empire that would stand against the wrath of Ellison’s father.
One I’d love to rub in his face.
“So obviously you and her father have a history,” Jensen says easily, “and what? He’s back and you think he’s going to keep you from her?”
Did I think that?
No, because I told him I wouldn’t let it happen.
“It just feels like since we started tryin’ to do this the right way, everything’s just gone to hell in a handbasket in the last twenty-four hours.”
“So go back to what you were doing before,” Mason says matter-of-factly before taking a sip of his beer.
If only.
“I don’t know if it’s that easy,” I admit.
“Did you ask?” Mason says with his eyebrows halfway up his forehead. “Seems like you’re getting worked up a lot over nothing before you know it’s something.”
All eyes turn to look at him, but he only shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Kid may be a goofball most of the time, but he’s seen more in his years on this earth than most will their whole lives.
“Just let me know if I need to bury any bodies,” Bodhi says over the crackle of the fire, the faintest hint of a smile on his face.
“You’ve been hanging out too much with the Thayers.” Jensen groans and we all chuckle although I have no idea if Bodhi’s offer is legitimate or not.
“Man, I miss them,” I say, happy to have the focus shifted from me. “They doin’ okay? I can hardly keep track of what they got going on over there.”
Archer snorts. “I don’t know about the Thayers, but I heard our beloved sheriff had to do a wellness check on Miss Thelma and she answered the door wearing only?—”
“Do not finish that sentence.” Jensen shudders and I bark out a laugh as Bodhi’s mouth falls open, and Mason giggles like it’s the best thing he’s ever heard. “It still gives me nightmares.”
“And they say nothin’ happens in a small town,” I tease, and he glares at me because we both know Miss Thelma is hell on wheels on a good day. The spitfire of a woman dedicated her time—and wardrobe—to her cat, Louise, after her husband passed away. Now there isn’t a shirt, skirt, or legging that doesn’t have her beloved cat’s face on it.
It was honestly impressive, and if that wasn’t enough, she also made a county-famous Moscow Mule that could knock a grown man on his ass. I’d often wondered if there would ever be a spark between her and Grandad, but so far I hadn’t flexed my geriatric matchmaking muscles.
Also, I wasn’t entirely ready to accidentally walk in on Grandad gettin’ busy. I wish I could say it had never happened, but that’d be a lie. No grandchild should ever be subjected to that kind of encounter. But he and Nan had been happy and I was happy for him for still bein’ able to get it up.
But Lord have mercy I didn’t need to bear witness to it.
Or hear it.
“Why are you makin’ that face?” Jensen asks, but I shake my head.
“You don’t want to know.”
I’m not lying—but at the same time, I want what they had. To be old and wrinkly and still chasing her around the house, grabbing her ass and kissin’ her breathless.
We have forever to get living and she needs to catch up.
“You’ll have to let me know what that’s like,” Mason says quietly, his gaze fixed on the fire.
“What?”
“Getting to love someone your whole life.”
You’ll find it. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow them down because I don’t know. I have no idea what he’s been through and if his past will ever truly allow for a future.
But I can pray—and I do—for him and Bodhi to find peace and love and sanctuary in Blackstone Falls. It’s beenalmost two yearssince they landed here, but I still wouldn’t be surprised to find they’d fled in the middle of the night.
Mason gives me a boyish, aw-shucks grin and he looks every bit his twenty-three years. “Don’t worry. It’ll happen for me—for us,” he says motioning to Bodhi. “We’re just picking up somewhere in the middle, and I think it’s nice knowing that people can love each other through all the stages of life.”
Well shit.
Holding my beer out to him, his bottle clinks against mine, and he nods before turning back to the fire. His words resonate deep within me—the rightness so obvious now that they’ve been spoken by someone else.
Finishing my beer, I let the bottle drop into the grass below and look up at the stars.
I’ve loved Ellison my whole life, but I can’t help thinking it’s about time I let myself fall for her too.