10. Chapter 10
Rhett
It’s a beautiful day for the end of January.
The sun is shining and slowly melting some of the snow.
The cows are loving it, too. Usually the wind is blowing so damn hard, I struggle to stay on my horse.
Today my horse gets to stay safe and warm in the barn while I ride the side-by-side through the pastures.
It’s my job to get them some fresh hay today, so I’m the cow’s best friend. Until next week, when it’s West’s turn.
We all divide up our duties and take turns. That’s how we make it work. Each of us being owners means we each hold a responsibility to keeping this ranch operating. To keeping the cattle safe and to honoring the Taylor name. I may not be a Taylor by blood, but I am by heart.
Hopping out of the side by side, I get to the hay feeder and check to see its levels.
“Damn, have y’all done anything but eat hay since last week?” I ask the few cows standing around me.
I get a resounding echo of moos from the cows and I laugh. Sometimes I wonder if they really understand what we’re saying. If that’s the case, they know all my darkest secrets. They can be good company when you want to be alone but need to talk. I find that to be something I need a lot.
Grabbing a bale from the back of the ranger, I throw it into the holder.
It almost looks like something you would find on the playground, a merry-go-round, only there’s no spinning, and a few extra bars to keep the hay off the ground.
I climb up on the bars, cut the twine, and pull the top of the bale apart before repeating it for one more bale.
I’ve still got five more of these to do today.
By the time I’m finished, I’m dripping sweat and hauling ass back to the barn. I’m starved and this had taken about an hour longer than I thought. I was supposed to help Weston unload the hay he bought from the sale barn this morning.
I pull up to the barn and see Weston’s truck backed into the shop. He must be back and has the trailer in the barn.
Parking the Ranger, I walk into the barn, trying to see where Weston is. The first one I find is Maverick. Usually, he is full of jokes. Today his shoulders are stiff as he walks. I hear Weston’s voice in the background and Maverick’s face turns into a full sneer at that.
“Sorry I’m late, took longer than I thought throwing bales,” I say to Mav. “You good?”
“Oh fine, it’s really fun working with the devil himself,” he says as he rips a glove off his hand.
“You all going to sit around and talk like a bunch of girls or are you going to help me?” Weston comes around the corner, and holy shit, does this man look possessed today. His body is rigid and his brows are so furrowed I think they might be fused together.
“Yeah, we’re all here to help. I just got back from feeding the cows. Where do you need help?”
“I don’t know, maybe look around and see what needs to be done?” The anger in his tone is far above what I am used to seeing from him. Weston usually doesn’t get mad, ever.
I’m not sure what, but something crawled up Weston’s ass and died. He is usually far too chipper in the morning for my liking, but not today, he is a surly bastard.
“Dude, what the fuck is with you today?” Maverick finally asks after Weston, with far too much force, throws a bale of hay into the horse pin, causing it to fall apart.
“I can’t talk about it,” he says through gritted teeth as he cuts the twine from a different bale of hay before tossing it into the next pen.
“If you’re going to be a grouchy bastard, go home to your wife and do it, she has to deal with you being an ass, we don’t,” I finally say. It’s rare we have to call each other out. But we are brothers at heart, and if you’re being a jackass, someone is going to let you know.
Weston stops what he is doing, and I see his shoulders sag.
“What has got you so bothered? Talk to us,” Maverick coaxes.
“If I tell you, you have to act surprised when she tells you, I just found out last night.” He sits down on a bale of hay and repositions his hat. He does that a lot when he’s nervous.
“Is Willow knocked up?” Maverick asks.
“Someone is knocked up, but it aint her.” He fidgets with his hands before looking up at the both of us. He shakes his head and then stands. “Aspen is pregnant. Neither of you can say a word, you hear me?”
My ears start ringing and everything around me becomes a blur. It feels almost impossible to breathe.
This can’t be.
One million thoughts tumble through my head. Aspen pregnant? It has to be mine…but what if it isn’t and it’s that city slickers?
My stomach sours at the thought of her pregnant and carrying anyone's child but my own. But then I remember why that can never happen. Why I need to protect her, even if it guts me to stand by and watch her build a family with someone else.
“Did she tell you who the dad is?” I ask cautiously. Warring opinions are going inside my head. Part of me wants it to be mine. I don’t want to share Aspen with anyone else, even though I’m not willing to give her all of myself, but the other part of me is equally terrified that this baby is mine.
He shrugs one shoulder up, shaking his head before dropping the shoulder back down. “She wouldn’t tell me who the dad is, so my guess is he’s a deadbeat piece of shit.”
If she isn’t telling him, it’s because that would require us airing our own shit out, which he somehow has been oblivious to.
Aspen is pregnant, and there’s a good chance it’s mine.
My heart drops so hard, I think I hear it shatter.
This is exactly what I didn’t want. I didn’t think it was possible for my whole world to fall apart with one sentence, but it does.
In an alternate universe, one where my body and my genetics weren’t a burden, this would be a gift, a dream come true, actually.
“Holy shit, dude, how is she handling it?” Maverick asks and I scold myself for that not being my first question. Aspen is who I should be worrying about here.
He stares off into the abyss for a second, lost in thought, before shaking his head again. “I’m not sure. As of last night, not well, but I was there when she found out. Not intentionally.”
“And you’re one hundred percent sure?” I ask.
“Well, I went there to drop something off and then I had to go to the bathroom and the test was just sitting there on the counter. Two dark pink lines.”
“That’s…” I try and find a word that is adequate enough. This is my worst nightmare and greatest dream come true all in one. I rub at the gnawing feeling in my chest, like my anxiety is trying to eat its way out of my body.
“It’s life-changing,” he says without knowing how damn true it is.
She won’t be on her own, but will she even want me around when she learns that I’m a ticking time bomb waiting to go off?