12. Cole
COLE
The dust settles the farther the truck drives off down the dirt road. I remove my hat, wiping the sweat from my brow. The loud slam of the metal door closing pulls me back to the now, and I turn, replacing my hat and watching Austin lock up.
“I don’t like this, Aus,” Cruz grunts, pushing off the side of his Bronco where he’s been standing this whole time doing two parts of fuck all.
“Quit your bitchin’,” Austin mutters, grabbing the duffle bag from the dirt. He rifles through it, pulling out a stack of cash and shoving it against Cruz’s chest.
Accepting the money, Cruz looks down at it, chewing on his bottom lip. And I can tell he wants to say something—insert his authority—but one quick glance at Austin and he seems to change his mind. Hell, I almost laugh. Pussy.
Austin shoves a wad of cash at me on his way past. Unlike Cruz, I accept it without any lip, tucking it safely into my saddle bag before hoisting myself up onto Soldier.
“You headed back to the hands?” Austin asks once he’s mounted.
I nod. “Should be done soon.”
“Thanks for your help.”
I throw him a salute before grabbing the reins, and clicking my tongue, turning Soldier back in the direction of the east pasture.
Austin started this… side venture about a year ago, after the ranch hit a rough patch when cattle prices dropped due to the flow-on effects of the war.
I don’t know how it came about. Frankly, I don’t want to know.
Half the time I don’t even know what we’re doing.
I mean, I have a pretty good fuckin’ idea, but I prefer to remain ignorant.
Plead the fifth, if I ever had to. What I do know is the guys that Austin started doing business with are not the kind of guys you wanna mess with.
But I have to believe that Austin knows what he’s doing.
Rattlesnake Ranch has been in his family for generations.
The last thing he would ever do is knowingly put this place in jeopardy.
My phone shudders against my thigh and I tug it out of my pocket, pulling on the reins for Soldier to slow when I see Clara’s name illuminated on the screen. I answer the call without hesitation, not missing the way something unfamiliar tugs deep in my chest.
“You okay?”
“Oh,” she stammers, clearly confused by my quick, gruff greeting. “Uh, yeah. Hi. Sorry. I—” She seems to take a breath. “I thought I’d get your voicemail,” she says all rushed with a huff of laughter. I can’t help but grin at how flustered she sounds.
“I just, um… Billie and I were baking some cookies and the oven… it just kinda stopped. Um… and it won’t come back on. I promise I didn’t do anything. And I-I tried to—”
“It’s okay,” I interrupt her rambling, sensing her nerves with every word, even through the phone. “I’ve been meanin’ to replace it. But I rarely ever cook, so I keep forgettin’.”
“Oh…” She exhales, her relief obvious and that thought alone stirs something in my chest.
“I’ll get it fixed as soon as possible.”
“Oh, it’s… it’s no rush,” Clara says quickly. “We can do without. I-I just wanted you to know.”
I look out over the jagged horizon of the mountains in the distance, squinting through the glare of the unforgiving sun. Dragging a hand over my jaw, I surprise myself as much as I surprise Clara with my unexpected words as I say, “You doin’ okay?”
She’s silent for a beat, but I hear the telltale intake of her breath, so I know she’s still there. “Um… yeah. I’m okay.”
“I ain’t heard from you since Saturday night, so I just… I-I wasn’t sure.” I close my eyes. Smooth, loser. Never in my almost twenty-seven years has anyone made me stammer.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” Clara says, thankfully seeming none the wiser to my suddenly inability to function. “I… I didn’t wanna bother you,” she adds with a nervous laugh.
“Ain’t no bother, darlin’.” I stifle a grimace. Darlin’? Goddammit, Cole.
“Are… you okay?”
I can’t help but deadpan at the sound of my question thrown back at me, more so by the sound of the hint of a smile hidden in my question as she throws it back at me.
I close my eyes again. “Yep,” is all I can say, noticing the way my voice sounds a little tight, almost broken, like my balls ain’t yet dropped.
I clear my throat. “You found a sitter for Billie and Tommy on Friday night?”
“Uh, yeah.” The hesitation in her tone is obvious. “Um, a girl from the high school.”
“How old is she?”
“She’s a senior so… eighteen, I guess.”
“Name?”
“Uh… Taylor.”
“Last name?”
Clara huffs another laugh. “Uh, I think it was… Carmody. Yeah. Taylor Carmody… Officer.”
I rear back from her unexpected sass, unable to stop my own smirk but before I can retort, I’m startled by the distant sound of a gunshot ricocheting through the quiet afternoon air.
Soldier spooks and snorts loudly, both of us lifting high and looking in the direction the shot came from. The east pasture. Fuckin’ Christ.
“Cole?” Clara’s voice calls through the phone, pulling me back to her. “Was… Was that a gun?”
“Uh, yeah,” I try to play it off, not wanting to scare her.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. This is a ranch, darlin’… not uncommon. But I gotta go, ’kay?”
“O-kay…”
I don’t say goodbye—honestly, I don’t know how—I just end the call and tuck my phone back into my pocket, loosening Soldier’s reins and clicking my tongue, giving his sides a firm squeeze with my boots.
I gotta haul ass back to the east pasture to see what the fuck these idiots are doing and who the fuck’s shootin’ shit.
It’s dark when I turn into the drive, the truck bouncing as I navigate the uneven dirt.
The house is lit up against the night and for the first time since I’ve owned it, the place looks like a…
home. A soft yellow glow shines out through the windows.
The porch light is on, illuminating the front yard.
And as I shut off the truck, I can’t hide my own smile when the front door swings open, a little girl with a shock of blonde curls stepping onto the porch, peering out at me curiously.
“Mommy, it’s Mister Cole!” Billie exclaims, all excited as I hop out the cab.
“Howdy, Miss Billie.” I tip my hat, unlatching the tailgate and hefting myself up onto the bed.
“Oh, h-hey,” Clara’s voice rings through the air, causing my head to snap up.
She looks freshly showered, dressed in nothing but a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top.
I can tell by the way she’s standing, legs crossed at the ankles, arms wrapped around herself despite the warmth from the day lingering in the night air, she wasn’t expecting me.
I don’t necessarily want to because she’s a sight for sore eyes, but I turn away, focusing instead on the big box in front of me.
“What are you doing… here?” Clara asks from the top of the steps.
“New oven.” I slap my hand against the box before bending at the knees and lifting it.
Clara gasps. “Oh my god, Cole! You really didn’t—”
“You got cookies to bake,” I interrupt Clara’s objection, glancing pointedly at Billie, her big eyes beaming bright. “Ain’t that right, Miss?”
“Yeah!” Billie squeals, clapping her hands together excitedly, my heart doing something it ain’t ever done before, deep in the darkness of my chest.
I climb the porch steps, careful not to drop the box.
It ain’t too heavy. Nothing I can’t handle.
Just awkward. Plus, I’m dog tired after driving all the way to the Best Buy at Lubbock after work to pick the damn thing up.
Glancing sideways, I notice the way Clara watches me, clearly rendered a little shocked if her gaping mouth is any indication.
Thankfully, Billie opens the door for me, and I let myself inside, Tom jumping up from where he’d been reading on the couch.
“Oh… h-hey Cole,” he says, nervously smoothing down the front of his T-shirt. “You need a hand?”
“Sure do, buddy,” I say, nodding. “You can help me get the old one out.”
Like an eager apprentice, Tom’s hot on my heels as I continue into the kitchen.
And, as I navigate the house—my house—I can’t help but notice just how much the place not only smells different, but feels different.
Warm. Cozy. Lived in. It ain’t ever felt like this before.
And if I’m being honest, I hope like hell that never changes.