Chapter 6
Dom
I don’t need much sleep.
Years and years of climbing the financial and business ladder meant little sleep and lots of hustle, so I’m not new to getting a few hours of sleep. But out here, it’s often peaceful, idyllic.
Not last night. Nor the night before. In came the blonde I couldn’t look away from fast enough because she was young.
Beautiful, but young.
The same girl stranded on the side of the road, who didn’t hesitate to leap out when a stranger stopped, with zero care for safety too. I could have been an asshole and hurt her. I might be the first, but never the second.
My surprise when I found out she’s practically my boss was a much more pleasant one, because that’s a line I won’t cross.
I thought the first night was a fluke. The windows are thin in these old wooden houses, and the one next door was wide open, letting the breeze in, her music out to disturb the entire ecosystem.
Twice in a row now doesn’t bode well for the future.
But it’s no time to dwell on the past, even if it was just this morning, because out here, there’s no time to waste.
The sweat is already drying into a salty crust on my forehead, and the sun is still hanging too high for my liking, baking the dusty, dry corral.
If this is only April, I can’t imagine what summer will be like.
I started working here last summer, after my divorce was finalized, and I found myself at a crossroads.
Riverbank has a special place in my heart: almost a decade of carefree summers fun here invade my memories every time I think about the last time I was happy, or at least content.
Nothing came to mind but this place, so I left it all behind and moved here when I saw the website had an open position for a ranch hand.
Little pay, considering they already have one, but it came with training and learning, and the promise of one day taking over the position from the ranch’s oldest employee, Arnold.
So, I’ve been here, working my ass off and being that again, content. But the feeling that hit me the minute I heard Riley’s voice had me feeling something I haven’t felt in years.
A spark.
One I need to deny but, like the asshole I am, I can’t seem to figure out how to keep her away without treating her like an ass.
Maybe if I’m not friendly, she’ll stay away.
Not only am I a whole lot older than her and a divorcée, but I also don’t want complications.
I want to continue doing what I was hired to do.
My left knee is throbbing—a nice reminder of that fence post I hit back in March.
The heat makes the air shimmer, and the cattle are acting lazy, which means they'll start running the second I turn my back from wrestling with a stubborn piece of barbed wire, trying to mend a break in the east fence line. My gloves are already torn.
I hear the low rumble of a truck before I see the dust cloud. Dammit. I hate when she shows up, mostly because it’s never for anything positive.
I don’t look up. I keep tightening the wire, letting her wait until I’ve got this twist secured. Finally, I grunt and turn, wiping my forehead with the back of my wrist.
"Ms. Banks," I bark, not bothering with a smile. My tone is strictly business—or maybe just annoyance.
“Lilly, Dom. Please, just call me Lilly.”
“What brings you out here this way? You’re pretty far away from that fancy office of yours.” She says she likes to have her hands on everything happening at all times, a CEO who doesn’t allow for an ounce of breathing room, so it doesn’t surprise me she’s here.
I often wonder if she knows she’s on the brink of burnout.
Can she recognize the signs? I know I didn’t, not until my entire life had imploded in front of my eyes.
Wife gone, an empty house, parents I barely knew, brothers with passions and a life I wasn’t privy to.
All because of that same rush I see in Lilly—except mine was fueled by ambition and hers by devotion and a promise: keep her family ranch alive.
"Nothin' major. Just need a tiny thing," she says, leaning against her old truck.
I already know where this is going. "I'm busy, Lilly. This fence won't fix itself."
"I know, I know. I just need a quick sec. Maybe three minutes?"
Just a quick sec. That’s code for a two-hour ordeal. My jaw clenches. “Fine. What’s up?”
Her face shifts uncomfortably. I know the ranch is struggling, and, judging by how tense she’s been, maybe I misread this whole situation.
Shit.
I take my hat off, covering my torso with it, and take a seat in front of her, by the fence. “What’s wrong?” I ask, unable to contain it, because something is wrong. “If I did something wrong, I’m happy to fix it.”
She shakes her head. “You know I have no problem letting you know if that was the case, but it’s not. It’s, um, Arnold.”
“What’s wrong?”
She sighs. “It’s not news he’s not doing great. I’m sure you’ve noticed, as has the rest of the ranch.”
“I thought it was just old age.” Lies. I can tell there’s more to it, but it hasn’t been my place to say anything. It isn’t now either. What is it that my youngest brother, Lucas, says all the time? When in doubt, play dumb.
She shakes her head, confirming my suspicion that there’s more to it.
“Old man is harder to crack than a macadamia, so I’m not exactly sure what’s going on with him, but he’s not doing well.
Gertrude—” She searches my eyes for confirmation that I know who that is, but how could I not, when Arnie talks about his wife all day long?
“She called yesterday, concerned about him. She’s going to call his doctor and let me know, but we both fear there might be something major going on with him. ”
I nod. Makes sense. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“That’s not even one of the things I need.
That was just the backstory.” Now that she’s standing in front of me, her guard down and not spitting orders every two seconds, I don’t know how I didn’t notice the resemblance between the two of them sooner.
Similar hair, same sad blue eyes, same rosy cheeks.
They are different, by a lot, but I can see the similarities as clear as day now.
“I might need you to take on more responsibilities. I know you said you were up for the challenge when you first came on board, but I thought we had longer before he deteriorated this much.”
Wait. “I thought you just said you didn’t know what was going on with him.”
Her eyes open wider than saucers. I don’t even know why she tries to lie. It’s not like she knows how to do it properly.
“Lilly, if there’s something I need to know…”
“Me and my big mouth.” She lets out a breath, one she’s been keeping deep within her chest. “It’s more than age. He has ALS.”
ALS? She must see the question behind my eyes, because she continues, “It’s a disease that affects the nervous system. He got diagnosed last year.”
I stand in a jiffy. Nobody thought to tell me? That old man is out there picking shit up and doing all sorts of stuff he probably shouldn’t be doing if he has a condition affecting his nervous system.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. That was one of his stipulations when we hired someone new. He knew we couldn’t really afford adding someone full-time, so the only reason he told me was because he knew he didn’t have long before he couldn’t do everything on his own.”
She looks out into the pasture, in the direction of Arnie’s house, beyond the mountains and the main road. This is hard for her to share, either because she wasn’t asked to, or the most likely reason: Arnie is important to her. I know that, and everyone around here knows it too.
He’s important to the whole damn town. He’s like town royalty.
His great-grandparents were pioneers in this area, children of ranchers who had ranchers, who went to have more ranchers.
Arnie is the last of his lineage, since he and Gertrude have no children of their own.
It’s my understanding he’s been working here forever, practically a piece of the land himself.
“How severe is it?” I ask. I don’t know much about ALS, but if it’s anything like the other neurological conditions I know of, it’s not easy on the body or the mind.
“Well, it’s bad. It’s a terrible disease, it truly is, but the worst part is not knowing how quickly it can degenerate the body and mind.
He’s struggling right now. He’s been waking up with a lot of pain lately, and he won’t tell anyone about it.
Gertrude has found him folded over in the shower.
She’s talking to the doctor, but I fear things might change sooner rather than later at the ranch. ”
“What can I do?” I ask. There’s only one thing I know I can do: find out how I can do the job I was hired to do while helping make Arnie’s last few months, years, or whatever he has left easier.
I knew when I applied for this job that there would be a transition period between switching over from Arnie leading the job, to me taking the lead, to eventually him retiring, to the Banks hiring another ranch hand to help me.
They were looking specifically for someone who was willing to take over.
At the time, I had no clue if I was a good fit.
I had some knowledge of ranch operations, but not enough to do this on my own.
Then, I met Arnold.
Or I met him again, I should say. I spent most of my childhood summers on this same ranch, running wild and free with a bunch of kids my age at the summer camp.
Arnie was here; he said I was always in the middle of trouble, but they could never kick me out because they could see in my eyes I had something special.
When I interviewed, he didn’t blink twice before he was calling me Dom Trouble Diaz.
He gave me the job right away, whether I deserved it or not.
But now, at thirty-six years old, I’m not that troubled kid anymore. I found my calling—or so I thought.
That calling, the ‘business man Dom’, was fine for a while, but it slowly ate me inside.
I’m here, trying to find who I really am and what I can do with my life beyond just working in an office in front of a computer eighty hours a week.
I wanted to be happy again, so I came to the place where I remembered being blissfully happy once.
They gave me a chance and put their trust in me, and now, it’s my turn to prove it was well-placed.
“Well, I might need you to take the lead more and to come to me if you need help. We both know it’s never easy here, but summer camp will start before we know it, and that’s when things really get busy.
I might not have a bunch of extra hands to send your way, and I definitely can’t have major accidents happening while we’re getting the ranch ready for campers. ”
I nod. “Understood.”
“That’s not all.”
Jesus, what else can there be? This poor family.
“I’m sure you’ve met Riley already.”
Shit. “Mm-hm.”
“She’s not really like me. She’s a little wild, that one, and she’s also flighty.”
“What do you mean?”
“She never stays in one place, never follows rules, never follows through. She wants a job, which I gave her. She owns this land too, I guess, but I don’t trust that she’ll be able to do it all. She’s young, and she’s said many times she doesn’t want to live here forever.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. She, um, might need extra hands, and I know, I know, I’m already asking a lot from you, but if you can let me know if she comes to you drowning, so I can mitigate a little bit.”
“You want me to babysit your sister?”
She looks panicked. “No, not at all. I just want you to be extra eyes and ears, especially since her cabin is next to yours.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. And I’m sorry about that.”
“About what?”
“Her being next to you. I didn’t know she was coming home, or I would’ve said something. I’m sorry in advance, and I would get some earplugs if I were you. She doesn’t understand what it means to be quiet, even if her life depended on it. So good luck.”
Well aware, Lilly. Well aware.