Chapter 7 Where There’s Smoke
Where There’s Smoke
RYDER
“Hey, dickhead. Thanks for the invite.”
Looking up from packing the ATV, I nearly have a heart attack when I see Colt standing inside the barn.
Not because I’m surprised he’s here. But because I may or may not have tugged one out the other day while thinking about coming on his sister’s tits.
I’m going straight to hell.
“Hey.” I straighten, groaning inwardly when I see that, like me, Colt is also dressed head to toe in camo.
Hell, even his blind case and hat are printed in the green and brown pattern.
I’d hoped to go hunting alone today—clear my head some—but obviously that’s not going to happen now.
“What’re you doing here? Doesn’t Dean have soccer? ”
“I’m keeping you company. Mom and Dad have Dean today.” He strides across the barn and sets his gun case in the back of the ATV next to mine. Then he squints at me. “Why’re you sneaking around like this? Going hunting all by your lonesome? Makes me think you’re hiding something.”
My pulse picks up pace. “Uh—”
“I’m just kidding, dude.” His face splits into a smile. “Wyatt said you ditched the herd to hunt, so figured I’d keep you company. How the hell are you? I know today’s a tough one for y’all. I brought some cigars. Tequila too”—he pats his chest pocket—“so we could pour one out for Robbie and Anne.”
It’s been thirteen years to the day since my parents passed. But hearing their names said out loud still makes my chest hurt.
Add that to the fact that my friend came to be with me on a shit day, and my eyes are misting over. I blink hard. Try to breathe around the lump in my throat.
I woke up after a shitty night’s sleep feeling like I got run over. I expected to toss and turn; it’s the same rigamarole on this day every year.
What’s not the same? How staying busy hasn’t eased the ache deep in my center. Usually I can spend a few hours working cattle or mowing hay, and I’ll feel better.
Less flattened, at least.
Today, though? Today I feel like I’m coming out of my skin. Like my grief threatens to burn me alive from the inside out.
Which is why I decided to give hunting a try. It’s dove season in this part of Texas, and Lucky River Ranch is a hunter’s wet dream this time of year.
Going out to sit in a blind is also a last ditch attempt to quiet the screaming pain inside me.
You gotta be fully alert when you have a shotgun in your hands.
And sometimes being out in nature, surrounded by nothing but bird calls and the sound of the wind through the trees, is the best way to clear your mind.
The best way to get a grip on your emotions.
Numb them, really.
I can’t help but think that this tidal wave of grief has something to do with my conversation with Billie last week. There was a rawness to her words, and the way she felt, that has me feeling raw too.
Probably because she’s being honest with herself in a way you haven’t, and you know it’s time to make some changes, or you’re going to end up working yourself to death with nothing real to show for it.
Work is easy.
Grief, connection, honesty—those things aren’t.
I wince at the electric shock that ricochets through my breastbone. My body knows the truth. My mind, though, doesn’t want any part of it. Apparently neither does my heart.
Which sucks. I feel like I was able to let my guard down with Billie. I was moving in the right direction. But now I have my walls back up, and it’s that one step forward, two steps back bullshit that makes me wanna scream with frustration.
I know I gotta go easy on myself. Still feels all kinds of wrong to keep this conversation with my best friend surface-level.
To keep the grief at arm’s length. I know better, but turns out it’s really hard to do better.
Colt rounds the ATV and puts a hand on my shoulder. “You all right there, bud?”
I nod. “Yeah. Glad you’re here.”
“Heard you been workin’ over-overtime. Which is a lot, even for you.”
“Word travels way too fast around here.”
Colt smiles. “That’s just us lookin’ out for you. Speaking of, thanks for bein’ so good to Billie. My family and I appreciate it, brother. She’s been smiling from ear to ear the past week, so whatever wisdom you imparted during her visit, it helped.”
So Colt heard about the tractor ride. Of course he did.
A white-hot wave of misery moves through me, even as my pulse picks up at the memory of Billie’s face after she let her thoughts air out.
Relief.
Confusion.
Hope.
She’s hurting, but she’s still showing up. Still trying. And her courage—
Yeah, it’s fucking sexy. And scary.
Colt is a crucial part of my support system. Especially now that my brothers are all paired off and they’re focused on growing their own families. Him showing up today is a case in point. I can’t risk losing him by starting some weird hookup situation with his sister.
Let’s not forget, Colt’s wife betrayed him in a way that still affects him. Deeply. Loyalty matters more than anything to my friend—to all of us, really—and I’d rather die than sneak around on Colt the way Abby did. There’s only so much betrayal one man can withstand before he breaks.
I’m not gonna be the one to break Colt Wallace.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Billie was sweet to come all this way just to bring me dessert.”
Colt chuckles. “My sister is many things, Ryder, but sweet sure as hell ain’t one of ’em.”
We climb into the ATV and head out into the ardent autumn sunshine. It’s a beautiful day, the breeze cool, not a cloud in the sky. October blew in this week with a major storm, but in its wake, we’ve been enjoying cold mornings, crisp air, and all-around gorgeous weather.
“Why do you think your old man is so hellbent on her being in the office?” I ease off the gas as we cross a small creek. “Billie.”
Colt digs a cigar out of his pocket. “I think it’s his way of trying to get her to settle down.”
“Why the rush? She’s still young.”
“I hear you. She’s a free spirit, no doubt about that. I’m all for letting her do what she wants. But my parents—you know they’re traditional. Mom and Dad are old souls. Always have been.”
“Mine were too. I think it might’ve been a generational thing?”
“Maybe. I don’t think they understand her. Or maybe they don’t understand why she hasn’t figured out her life yet. Why she hasn’t gotten married, or at least why she doesn’t have a steady guy in her life.”
I nod. “At her age, you were married.”
“Yup. I wouldn’t say I regret marrying Abby so young.” He rolls the cigar between his fingers. “But maybe…I don’t know, shit could’ve gone down a little differently if we’d had more time to grow up and have some fun before settling down.”
“Maybe. Although you did get Dean out of the deal.”
He smiles. “Best thing I ever did. But…”
He takes a long enough pause to make me turn my head. “Should I be asking if you’re okay?”
Colt lifts a shoulder. “Just wish he had a dad and a mom around. He misses Abby. You know the grief. Comes and goes. It’s complicated.”
“Right. Yeah.” It’s a lame response, but I’m swimming in…something that doesn’t feel great. Sorrow, I guess?
“Anyway.” He shifts in his seat. “My parents’ intentions are good when it comes to Billie.
I think they believe that if they help her get on the right path, her life will fall into place.
Yes, she’s a free spirit, but she’s also a romantic.
She wants to be in love. Pretty sure she wants a family someday.
Mom and Dad know that, and this is their way of helping her support that dream. ”
I chew on my lip. “What if it’s the right path but the wrong way of getting her there, though?”
“That’s up to Billie.” Colt shrugs. “What is it that Cash is always saying to Mollie?”
I smile. “Cowgirls can’t be tamed.”
“Right. We gotta trust Billie to figure out what’s right and to advocate for herself too. I’ve nudged Dad a bit. Told him he needed to give Billie some space. I know she doesn’t love the bookkeeping gig, but she also hasn’t really said much about doing something else, so…”
I swerve to avoid hitting an armadillo that darts onto the path, and the ATV groans. “Critters are out today.”
“They’re always out,” Colt says with another chuckle. “Billie will get her life together. We all do eventually.”
“Do you have your life together? Because I sure as hell don’t.”
He chuckles. “Fuck no.”
“Good. Not ‘good,’ I don’t mean that. But I’m glad I’m not the only one struggling to figure it out.”
I feel Colt’s eyes on me. “Nothing wrong with being a work in progress.”
“Yup. I just…” Running a hand over my face, I sigh. Usually I’d shut the hell up at this point. But today, I can’t seem to quit running my mouth. “I dunno. I’m feeling frustrated with myself right now.”
“Why?”
I’m all mixed up, and it’s hard to tell up from down. “Fuck if I know.”
Colt nods. “Give yourself a little grace, yeah? You been through it, and today is not the day to beat yourself up.”
“Thanks.” My eyes prick. Is the fact that I’m about to cry good? Bad? Both? “You’re a good friend.”
I’m not. How could I be, thinking about your sister like this? Letting her flirt with me even though I know it can’t go anywhere? Am I leading her on? Or am I just trying to be a good friend to her too?
Do I need her honesty—her bravery—as much as I need your friendship?
“I’m the best fuckin’ friend ever. You’re welcome.” Colt’s accent is thicker. He’s in his feels too. “Maybe…you gotta release the pressure somehow.”
I lift my fingers on the wheel. “That’s why we’re out here.”
He clamps the cigar between his teeth. “Let’s do it, then.”
Only, sitting in a blind all day, enjoying the fresh air, nips of good tequila, and my friend’s company somehow leaves me feeling more agitated.
I have half a mind to skip supper at the New House altogether. Maybe I really do need some solitude. Or do I need a square meal and the company of my family to soften the edges of a horrendous day?
It’s a bad day for them too. I gotta remember that. They need me as much as I need them. So I grab a shower and head to the New House.
We sit around the big oak table in the kitchen, just like we always do. But tonight, everyone is quiet. Subdued, even. Pretty standard for the anniversary of Mom and Dad’s death.
Cash will shed a tear or two. Wyatt and Sawyer will give everyone bear hugs. Duke always cries.
But me? I can usually power my way through. All of a sudden, though, it’s a struggle to stay in control. To keep it all in, the sadness and the regret and the gut punch of grief.
Again, is it a good thing that I can’t keep these feelings at bay? Or am I finally going to lose my goddamn mind feeling my feelings tonight? Billie’s made me want to turn on the spigot of my emotions and experiences. But now I’m realizing I had no plan of action beyond that.
What do I do with this grief?
How do I sit with it and not let it pull me under?
Patsy gives each of a big old hug while we clean up from dinner. One by one, my brothers and their partners head home.
For Sally and Wyatt, home is the old farmhouse Garrett lived in after his divorce from Mollie’s mom.
For Ava and Sawyer and the girls, it’s the house we grew up in, which we recently renovated so Sawyer could have a family home of his own.
Wheeler and Duke are splitting their time between his cottage on the Rivers’ side of the ranch and her townhome in Dallas. Along with Mollie and Cash, they’re the last couples left in the kitchen. I busy myself at the sink, pretending to wash dishes that are already clean.
“Hey.” Duke leans his side against the nearby countertop.
“Y’all don’t have to wait on me.” I tilt a plate underneath the faucet. “Have a good night.”
Wheeler comes up behind Duke and rests her cheek on his shoulder. “You were awful quiet tonight, Ryder.”
“Tired. That’s all.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah.”
A pause. That’s when Duke reaches over and shuts off the water. “Can we talk for a minute?”