Eight
Eigh t
Henry
Tension rolls off of Tait in waves as we pull up past the barn and stop in front of the house.
I wonder what exactly she expects to find here? Whatever she thinks she recalls or seems to know of them doesn’t align with the family I know, at least. If she’s here to do her job, they won’t stand in her way.
I feel validated in that thought when I see Grace already waiting on the porch with their son, Grady. Grady reminds me of one of the pack llamas on the ranch with how his head is weaving to and fro, looking for his first glimpse of her.
To her credit, Tait manages to get out of the truck smoothly despite her obvious discomfort. Shoulders back and head held high, I can’t help admiring her.
Personally, I avoid painfully awkward and uncomfortable exchanges whenever I can. I’m definitely not one of those people who has to slow down past a car wreck because of some morbid curiosity. Shit, I’m tempted to fast forward through the awkward and embarrassing scenes in my favorite movies, even after seeing them numerous times. I don’t enjoy secondhand embarrassment or discomfort, or other people’s business in general. So after she gets out, I immediately proceed with driving her luggage the three miles out to the cabin Grace told me she’d open up for her. It feels a little like abandonment, but not enough for me to stick around. I don’t miss the filthy look thrown at me in my rearview mirror, though.
Replaying my phone call with Grace, I linger on the lack of shock I sensed from her. I suppose at this point, everyone really has wanted a piece of the place since it became famous, so perhaps she’s been expecting Charlie’s estranged family to come around. Still, it’s September, the time when the unused buildings are shut up for winter before the work of winterizing the occupied ones begins. This particular cabin has never been used aside from a very short period of time… before.
It’s the newest construction, twin to mine from the exterior, with more modern finishes on the interior. The bunkhouse is plenty empty right now though, too, and much farther away than the one that I share the pond with. It feels a little like betrayal to so easily move this stranger into this specific cabin.…
I mentally give myself a shake and a reminder that none of it is actually mine, anyway.
I’ve grown used to the dull pain that comes whenever I see the new cabin down the road from mine, but passing this time to unload Tait’s things brings it a little closer to the surface. I sort through my keys to find the one I know I still have.
Inside, Grace has already had everything taken care of and prepped. It’s fully cleaned, minimally furnished. There are freshly folded towels laid on the dining table. It still smells new even though it was built over three years ago now. I quickly set down the first two bags and go unload the other two. I don’t know for certain if there’s an extra key that Grace already had made or anything, but I’d rather not risk needing to be asked for it later, so I toss the spare key on the counter. It’s something I’m completely unprepared to do, but I quickly jet out before the emotion—whatever it is I should feel—has a chance to take hold.
Directly across the pond is what I know of as my cabin. Charlie’s younger brother, James, used to reside in it until he built his home on the farthest eastern ridge of the property. He manages the outfitting entity of the Range now, which means that we rarely see him. He’s one of three guides, the others being Charlie and myself. I usually only co-guide, since people-ing is not my strong suit. They spend a great portion of the year scouting and doing predator management, and will spend much of October and November doing guided elk hunts. It’s fairly obvious that they’re two grown-up kids living out their dream of riding around quads, shooting, and sleeping under the stars—though no one will accuse them of not taking their jobs seriously.
My beauty, Belle, greets me with a bark and her usual mouth-grab on my forearm when I get home. She’s been cooped up much longer than normal today. I typically bring her everywhere, so I let her outside and throw her ball for a bit. She eventually takes off after some grouse and I head inside, somehow more worn out than if I’d been on a days-long hike, when my phone dings.
Grady: This is the most excitement we’ve had around here in YEARS. And Charlie isn’t even home yet!! !
Leave it to Grady to find entertainment in anyone else’s pain. Where I avoid the awkward, Grady would be the kid to prep the popcorn. He’s only twenty-one, though, and still thinks humor has the power to cancel out any other emotion. I should remind him that we have an Emmy-nominated show that is filmed here for six months out of the year off and on, and all the excitement that has unleashed.
Me: Go easy on the girl.
Grady: Mom wants you both to come up for dinner tonight. I didn’t get Tait’s number before she zoomed out of here like a bat outta hell, so will you go knock on her door, be the neighborly boy next door I know you are, and pass along the invite?
It’s then that I hear the telltale crunch of gravel and look up to see a Logan Range fleet truck fly past my window. The brat is blowing up enough dust to suffocate anything nearby.
“Shit!”
Belle .
I jog out just in time to see her fly out of the meadow and after the cloud of dust. She’s bred to herd and gets even more ornery about folks that drive too fast. She’s also a mean bitch to anyone but the immediate family. I sprint a few steps before reason sets in, and turn around to quickly grab my keys and go after them in the truck. The last thing this woman needs is a dog bite to start off her trip here—also the last thing I want to be responsible for.
Sure enough, I hear Belle barking from a distance when I get in the truck. I jam over as quickly as I can, but can’t see what’s going on through the billowing dirt in the air. The barking stops, my dread rising. I bolt out of the truck and send up a silent prayer that she doesn’t already have her by the ankle .
The dust puffs up around me and I squint and flap at it stupidly with my arms, frantically searching until it settles and reveals—
Belle sprawled out on her back, getting her belly rubbed.
Tait’s smiling, too—the first smile I think I’ve actually seen from her. She’s got perfectly straight, bright white teeth. The smile completely transforms her face, somehow.
It immediately makes me think of the time that LeighAnn prepared a five-course, gourmet meal to celebrate Grace’s fiftieth birthday. LeighAnn claimed she “wanted to bring some culture” to our “hick asses.” Instead of a traditional cake, we were each served a personal crème br?lée—something I’d never tried before then. Grace commented on how they were so pretty, she didn’t want to break them, to which LeighAnn exclaimed that cracking it with the back of our spoon was the most satisfying part…
Tait’s smile reminds me of that.
It’s a bit like cracking the top of a crème br?lée—the top is great, but that’s good shit underneath. Cracking it really was strangely satisfying, too.
Almost more stunning than that is my typically badass dog—the one I’ve seen go toe to toe with a wolf before—upside down with her tongue lolling happily out of her mouth.
“Is she yours?” Tait asks, smile clinging.
“I’m honestly not sure anymore,” I mumble suspiciously. “She doesn’t normally take to strangers.”
“Oh, well. I love dogs. Maybe she knew how sad I’d be if she didn’t take to me. What’s her name?” She makes a silly face and puts it up to Belle’s snout and I flinch, about to call out, but Belle gives her a happy lick.
I make a noncommittal noise and call her to me before she can cause more chaos. She sprints over and sits by my feet, staring up at me with her happy-dog grin.
“Belle.”
Tait pouts a little, and I’m disturbed at how that disappoints me.
“Wait. Belle? Ha —Beauty”—she points to Belle, then points up at me—“Beast.”
I ignore it.
“Grady sent me a message to ask if I’d invite you to dinner at their place tonight. I guess you took off before they had a chance to get your number,” I say.
“Oh—uhhh. Okay. I really just want to get settled tonight, I think. Pass along my thanks, though?”
“Or, why don’t I just give you their numbers so that you can?”
She sighs, but pulls her phone out of her back pocket and looks at me expectantly. I give her the details and tell Belle to load up, when Grady’s comment about being neighborly comes to mind.
“Listen, Tait. I don’t know your history. I do know the—well, these Logans, though. I know if you give them a chance, they’ll be more than accommodating with your work. And it’s probably not my place to say, but they’re not normally this welcoming to outsiders, aside from the obvious people who come for filming or to stay as guests, of course,” I clarify, oddly defensive. “But for them to immediately invite you to dinner…” I don’t need to explain that they could’ve set her up in one of the guest cabins or even the bunkhouse, as well. “They’ve gotten much more protective of their privacy in recent years. I’m just saying you might consider it.”
“I’m sure they’re just suspicious and want to vet me before I wander around the place. But you’re right, I need to make it clear to them what I’m here for, and that’s my work… Which, I will do, but tonight I just want to get settled,” she replies firmly.
I nod and turn to leave, when another thought occurs to me.
“Oh, uhh, I may as well get your number, too, and you mine. We’ve had a few security issues here since the show began and if you see anything suspicious, or need any help, I’m nearby. Out of all five thousand acres, there’s surprisingly only a few pockets that don’t get some kind of cell service.”
We exchange details, and I head back to my side of the pond.