11. Kade
Chapter 11
Kade
The old musty barn loft is quiet as I stare out at the dusty plains lit by the warm glow of the setting sun. My mind races with a million thoughts as usual, thoughts that plague me every time I’m not distracted and sometimes even when I am. I exhale a long sigh as I grip the splintered wooden railing.
Why is it that a day can’t just be normal around here anymore? Before Dad died, we’d wake up, I’d fetch some eggs from the coop for Momma or Gran to fix up, then we’d sit at the table for an early “shovel down” as we liked to call it. We’d devour our eggs, bacon, and toast, then we’d head out for work.
That included mucking, feeding, and moving cattle. Then of course tending to the crops and fixing anything else that needed fixing. If we didn’t have school, we’d usually have a lunch of sandwiches, then in the evening, we’d all sit back down together for dinner and figure out what needed to be done the next day. After that, Gavin would usually go off and hang out with his friends, and I ended up with Dad on the porch where he’d sneak me some whiskey after Momma and Gran went to bed.
It always seemed fucked up to me that I had just turned twenty-one when he died. I could finally drink legally with him, and that night, we went to Night Hawk to celebrate with Gavin, Jake, and his Pops. Dad even rode the mechanical bull. Old man didn’t stay on that long, but we all had a good laugh about it. It was shortly after that, the night before he died, that he divulged to me that he planned to change his will. That he was going to leave the family ranch to me. At first, I felt guilty, like I should’ve asked him to leave it to both me and Gavin, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted it all to myself.
Some may think that’s selfish, but it wasn’t. We all knew if Gavin had the option, he would leave Randall. While I know he loves this place, our land, our home—he isn’t meant for a small town, and I mean that in the best way possible. Despite my differences with him, Gavin is larger than life. He may be the silent type unless someone gets him talking or when he’s up onstage, but he’s always deserved better than a town of five thousand people. He’s smart and charismatic, and he excels in everything he does. If Dad hadn’t guilted him to stay home and go to a community college, he would probably be working at some fancy job right now or traveling the world like he always wanted.
But when you live in a place like this and you grow up in a family of ranchers that know nothing else but a hard life, dreams are stupid. Not only were mine crushed that day when I missed the reining competition deadline, but I also had a front seat to Dad breaking Gavin. I watched how he slowly squeezed every dream he had out of his head till he was all work and no play.
That’s why when Dad said he’d leave me the ranch, in a way, I felt and still feel like it would’ve been his greatest gift to Gavin, for him to be free from this place. There was also a small, tiny part of me that wondered if I could at least turn the Montgomery Family Ranch into a shadow of what I had dreamed. While I wouldn’t have been a reining champion, I could have implemented some of my ideas, none of which would’ve included turning it into a tourist attraction.
But like I said, dreams are stupid here. And I didn’t know how badly Dad left the ranch in debt, either. So while a dude ranch isn’t what I wanted, I’ve honestly tried to be okay with it. At the end of the day, this is still my home. It’s still the place I love, the place I never planned to leave outside of death. Though with everything that’s happened over the last six months, I’m not so sure anymore. I can’t help but feel like a fish out of water now.
Gavin has Blake. Momma and Gran are always together and doing their thing. But what do I have? Whiskey and women. At this point, I’m simply a trespasser on my family’s own land. Hell, they don’t even tell me who they’re hiring anymore, for god’s sake.
I blow out a breath, my eyes finding Willy grazing with a couple of our other horses. The setting sun has turned the Texas skies a burnt orange mixed with pinks, blues, and yellows. The beauty of it doesn’t stop me from wanting to reach for my flask, to drink its contents and drown out the world. But I resist, still trying to prove to myself that I don’t need it to get by. I did it before; I can do it again. However, I’ll admit it’s hard not to after today’s argument with Momma and Gav and the nice follow-up with Blake and Presley.
The city girl’s blue eyes invade my mind like they have quite a few times since I’ve met her—more than I care to admit. I tried to blame it on not sleeping with anyone since my doctor’s appointment last week. But that was idiotic because I can go without sex for more than a few days.
I think of our interaction mere hours ago and want to kick myself for it. I not only made her feel as if she wasn’t welcome on our ranch, but I also gave her another nickname I knew she’d hate, even if it does suit her. I’d like to say I know why I continue to annoy her, but I’m not exactly sure.
It could be because I have the tendency to be an asshole to push people away, but I don’t think that’s it. The better answer is that I enjoy how her subdued sapphire eyes light up when I get to her. How that fire, that spark, ignites, if only for a moment
I think there’s a part of her that enjoys it, that craves me as the spark to her flame. I’m not blind. I’ve noticed the way her eyes find me at Night Hawk, how the skin of her cheeks flush every time I’m near and she holds my eye contact a little longer than she does for other people .
A lukewarm breeze ruffles my long hair, and I inhale the smell of earth, rust, and hay as I grip the railing so hard my knuckles turn white. It’s funny—I’ve attempted to stay out of Presley’s way since the Cricket incident, keeping to myself at work and only talking to her when needed. But then today, I walk in to find her with Blake, hired as our new ranch hand. A new ranch hand who will be living on our property.
While my reaction to the situation could have been better, it was the culmination of everything that’s been going on with my family and in my mind. That still doesn’t excuse it, which is why I’ve been debating for the last couple of hours if I should seek out Presley and apologize, but in the end, I think it would be a moot point. The words were said, and she accepted my challenge. I can apologize in the morning.
The person I should be running to and begging for forgiveness is Blake. What I said to her has been festering in my stomach like garbage in the hot sun. I called her Blakey girl, the name her late brother, Reed, used to call her.
The nickname slipped past my lips in the hospital after she saved my life. I was out of it when it did, and later, she told me she believed it was Reed letting her know he’d been there with us that night, leading her to save me. I had no fucking right using that nickname again—especially in that way. I knew it would hurt her, but I chose to do it.
I pat my pocket for my flask but stop myself again before I can pull it out, feeling the urge to hit something. I know alcohol won’t take away my pain, just like I know fucking around with women won’t help, either. I’ve tried it, and it’s not working like it used to.
“Kade.” Gavin’s stern voice comes from behind me.
I suck in a deep breath and roll my shoulders back. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn’t hear the barn door open or him coming up the steps to the loft. I should’ve known it was only a matter of time before he came to find me, to scold me about how I treated Blake. Not that I can blame him .
“Hey, big brother,” I say, but I don’t turn to face him. I keep my eyes on the colorful sky, on my favorite horse grazing, willing my mind to stay calm. I’m focusing on allowing myself to have a civil conversation, praying for it not to escalate like the last several we’ve had.
The wooden boards of the loft creak with Gavin’s approach before he stands beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, he leans his tanned arms on the railing and follows my gaze to the pastures. For a long while, we stay silent, the sound of the breeze rustling trees and the occasional groan of the floor beneath our feet the only noise between us.
Eventually, Gavin lets out a long breath. “Blake told me what you said.”
There’s no anger in his tone, which is unsettling because I was sure there would be.
“For a few hours, she wouldn’t say what was eating at her, why her whole mood had changed since I saw her last. But I finally got her to tell me.”
I still don’t speak, thinking it’s just like Blake not to run off and blab to Gavin about what I said. She’s got more pride than that.
“If Blake hadn’t made me sit and cool off, I would’ve made a run at you. I wanted to—” He stops. I turn my gaze to his, noticing his jaw is clenched as he finally looks at me.
“You wanted to what?” I ask.
He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing on his stubbled neck. “I wanted to hurt you, Kade. I…” His voice cracks. “I’ve never wanted to actually hurt you, but—I wanted to throttle you for using Blake’s brother that way and embarrassing her in front of Presley.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t recognize you anymore. You’re—” His voice cracks again. “You’re not the brother I grew up with.”
The sharp pain in my sternum comes back, like my heart was put in a vice and someone turned the handle. My hands grip the railing so hard I wonder if the old wood is going to snap in half. We’ve had similar conversations before, but this feels different. Everything about our relationship feels different.
“I’m sorry,” I say, not sure what other words I can come up with. We’ve had this discussion before. He speaks the truth: I’m not the brother he used to know. But he’s not the same, either. How could we be when so much has happened?
Gavin stands to his full height and faces me. I expect to at least see a flash of anger in his eyes, but I don’t. Just defeat and disappointment. My stomach churns, and my mouth waters from the nausea I feel.
“I’m sorry, too, Kade.”
I stare at him quizzically. There’s been a lot said between us the last year, so I don’t know what he’s apologizing for. I lick my lips. “What for?”
Gavin takes a small step forward, his arm moving as if he wants to put his hand on my shoulder, but then he stops, putting it in his pocket instead. “I’m sorry because I thought you had gotten better. I thought you were over the drinking and the women. I thought you were managing your…” He stumbles over his words.
“My depression?”
Gavin’s eyes widen, as if the word I uttered was the worst thing to have ever come out of my mouth. I may be a small-town country boy, and I may not have gone to college, but I know what I’ve been struggling with. It became even more clear to me that day in Dr. Ellis’s office.
And it’s not like Gavin hasn’t struggled with it, either, or Momma or Gran. Fuck, Dad sure as hell did—I know that now. Living in a town like this, it’s natural to get depressed. Most people here are depressed. Some deal with it by drinking, others are able to ignore it, some hide it. I’m just not hiding it anymore, and it’s making him uncomfortable. It’s making my entire family uncomfortable .
“Kade, if you need help, I can get it for you. There are things that—”
“Don’t,” I snap. “Please don’t talk at me like that.”
He closes his eyes and inhales through his nose. “I don’t mean to talk at you or lecture. I swear I’m just trying to talk to you. I’ve been trying.”
“No, you haven’t. All you’ve done is talk at me. That’s all you’ve done this past year. You tell me what you think I need—to go slower, to go along with your dude ranch plans, to not drink, to not flirt. It’s always talking at me like I’m a little boy who needs to understand. I’m not your baby brother anymore. I’m an adult.”
“If you started acting like an adult, this wouldn’t be an issue.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what it means. Christ, Kade, can’t you see how much you’ve changed? We can’t even speak more than a few words without fighting.”
“You know what I think, Gav?”
“No, I don’t.”
I shake my head, my temper rearing its ugly head. “I think you’re upset that you’ve changed and I didn’t come along for the ride. That you haven’t been acting like an adult with all your fucking lies. That you’ve given all your care and attention to Blake and now your precious dude ranch. I think you feel insurmountable guilt because the place you didn’t want is yours now. That you took it from me and haven’t looked back.”
He has the audacity to look hurt and semi-shocked by my words. “We talked about this.” He huffs.
“No, you talked at me. You apologized, sure. But all you’ve been doing is telling me what’s going to be done. You told me how it would all work. You told me when you planned to open, how many horses we need, the renovations being done, what my jobs will be. ”
“I was asking for your opinion the entire time. I tried to involve you as much as possible these past months, but you never seemed interested.”
“I was injured! And I was in a lot of fucking pain some nights, if you don’t remember.”
He grimaces. “I do remember. I was trying to give you space. I was doing the best I could, and you never said you felt this way. I thought we were trying to move on.”
“You should’ve asked me! We talked in the hospital, and you just took my apology to mean everything was hunky-dory.”
“That’s not fair, Kade. We talked as a family, and we agreed to move forward with this idea.”
I think of the first few nights after I came home from the hospital, how we sat down for a family meeting in the living room. My arm was killing me, I was still getting out of breath just walking from one room to the other, and I was craving a drink of whiskey I wasn’t allowed to have because of my pain meds.
“I agreed because there was no other choice,” I spit. “And even if there was, you were so stuck on the idea. Not just you, either, but Momma and Gran, too.”
“If you didn’t want the dude ranch, you should’ve said something. It’s too late now, Kade. We’ve spent too much money. We have to see it through.”
“Which is exactly what you and Blake want.”
Gavin rubs the back of his neck again, the tell that says I’m stressing him out. “I thought you loved Blake. And after all she’s done for you—”
“I never asked her to save me!” I bellow. The words seem to ring through the loft even though there’s no echo. “I never wanted…”
I spin myself back to look at the landscape. The sunset is far too beautiful for how ugly I feel on the inside right now. The walls I let down for a moment build back up, and by the time Gavin speaks again, I’m no longer willing to listen .
“You never wanted what, Kade?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say quietly.
Gavin steps closer, and this time, he does place a hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off and turn so we’re facing each other again. The pain in his eyes is almost too much to bear. It reminds me of looking in the mirror, and for a heartbeat, I feel bad for how I’ve been treating the people I love. But that bad feeling doesn’t last, because my own pain is a bigger burden. It’s blackened my insides, and now, it’s all I feel.
“Kade, let us help you,” Gavin pleads.
“For the last time, I don’t want your help.”
“That may be the case, but you need it. We can all see that you need it. I don’t know what triggered you after your doctor’s appointment, but whatever caused this setback, we can figure it out. We can help you get back to where you were.”
I want to laugh in his face. My family is more oblivious than I thought. They really didn’t notice how miserable I was the last three months? How much I’ve been pretending to be okay while I really wasn’t? How hard the anniversary of Dad’s death hit me?
They say they care about me, but do they really? It sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.
I let out a low chuckle. “You know, Gav, I was thinking for a bit that maybe you weren’t such a selfish asshole, that I got you all wrong.” He looks confused, but I continue. “But once again, you proved to me that you are.”
“Kade, for Christ’s sake, please stop trying to turn this on me. We aren’t talking about me.”
“Because we’re never talking about you! You can just lie and then think everything has been fixed because Blake figured out a way to save the day and you said sorry. Life doesn’t fucking work like that. Blake may be able to forgive you, but I can’t.”
“I thought you had! Where is this coming from, Kade?” he begs .
I want to scream at him and ask him why he’s so dense. I don’t want to be helped by my family or Blake—or anyone, for that matter. I want my family to really listen, to fucking ask themselves why I’m so upset. I want Gavin to make things right. I want Dad to come back from the dead to explain to me why he did the things that he did.
But I stay silent.
I stare out at the pasture. The sun is gone, though there’s enough dusky light to see the horses. Must be nice to be completely unaware of the drama that just unfolded between me and my brother, the one who keeps staring at the side of my head, his eyes like lasers.
After a minute of charged silence, he exhales a long, tense breath. “That’s it, then? You’re not going to talk anymore?”
I don’t turn to answer. I don’t even blink.
“Do you want me to give up, Kade? Because I will. I’ll give up.”
My insides roll at his words. Gavin isn’t one to give up on anything. He never has been. But the tone in his voice isn’t one I’ve heard before, either. Still, I stay quiet.
“I’ll leave you be, Kade. But so help me god, if you use Blake’s brother to hurt her again or explode on Momma, I’m done. And if you have any decent bone left in your body, you’ll put your stupid pride down and apologize to them.”
I hear his words. While I know he’s right, I think I’m done, too.
Gavin stands there a minute longer, and I can practically hear his silent plea for me to say something, to tell him I’m sorry and to not give up on me. But that’s not going to happen. For the first time, a part of me wants to just get in my truck and drive away. I don’t know where I’d go, but I feel like I’m suffocating. This land, my home has never felt like this before—and I don’t fucking like it .
Gavin exhales again, and the floor creaks as he walks away—but not before he gets in some last words. “Be good, Kade. And never forget that I love you. We all do.”
The sound of his footsteps fade into the night, and I’m left alone with my thoughts. The overwhelming feeling of regret washes over me as I reach for my flask, the cool metal on my fingers as Gavin’s words replay in my mind.
Be good, Kade.
Fuck being good.