Chapter 27
When Cal agreed to a closure for renovations, it was like a switch flipped in his brain.
I thought for sure he’d tell me no, that I was being foolish and reckless.
Partly because I thought I was and was waiting for someone to bat me back down to reality, like always happens to me when I suggested big ideas.
But Cal listened, and he trusted me. Even though it terrifies him, he listened and is willing to try my plan.
Now I’m the one that’s more than a little freaked out.
Sure, it was easy in the moment to stand by my idea and spout hopeful words about preferring risk over a long, slow death, but now that we’re facing down all the needed changes and the cost of said changes, it’s harder to be optimistic.
We need more money. A lot more. I’m tapped out from the quick fixes we made to tide us over.
August said he’d contribute, and Cal has some money saved, but that won’t cover even a third of it.
We’ll need to find a way to get a loan. Too bad I don’t know any wealthy benefactors to call on.
Gretchen would give me her kidney, but she doesn’t have tens of thousands of dollars lying around.
For a split-second, I considered asking my parents for a loan, and a moment later promptly rejected the thought.
They hated this place. They don’t even know I’m living here now, and if they did, they’d have a fit.
Besides, taking money from them would come with so much baggage that I’d collapse under the weight of it.
I’ll figure the money out. I have to.
Damn my audacity to think I can do anything if I set my mind to it. This’ll be the biggest challenge yet, and if I fail, it won’t just be my ass on the line. It’ll be everyone involved with the ranch.
When August saw me having a mini mental breakdown at breakfast, he told me I need to take a break.
Which makes no sense because there’s no time for breaks when you’re putting everything on the line.
But he bullied me all the way back to Dawn’s house, asked me where my phone and laptop were, and then absconded with them, saying he’d give them back at dinner.
Which is how I ended up with the house looking like a tornado came through, clothes and books and boxes and hats and papers everywhere.
It started with me finally getting the courage to clean out the closet in the bedroom so I could put my clothes away, and spiraled into a full-blown reorganization and spring cleaning endeavor.
But as soon as the dopamine of sorting things into piles wore off, I’m left with chaos and no energy to put things in their new places.
Dusty and overwhelmed, I grab a box of old journals and scrapbooks and head out onto the porch to regroup and get some fresh air. I’m not surprised when I find my favorite gentleman caller at the base of the porch stairs.
“Hey Doodle!” I smile at the sight of his shiny white plumage.
He hasn’t been as much of an escape artist in the past few weeks, and didn’t even come to visit in the morning while the guests were here.
There’s a ridiculous pang of disappointment at the thought that he didn’t miss me.
That even this rooster that was obsessed with me found something better.
I wave the thought off when he makes a beeline for me, and when I set down the box and scoop him up, his clucks sound almost disgruntled, like he’s mad he hasn’t been able to snuggle.
Shit, I bet Cal had August lock him up so he wouldn’t be a menace. We’re going to have to figure out a better solution because I hate the idea of him being cooped up for so long.
“Were you stuck in a cock cage?” I coo at him, settling us down on the rocking chair.
He lets out a little warbling sound and rakes his beak through the end of my hair, making me laugh.
“It’s okay. I’ll make sure mean old stinky Cal doesn’t do that to you again.
We know you’re secretly an angel. You just need cuddles, don’t you? ”
Doodle purrs as I lightly caress his feathers, the sound and soft vibration soothing away some of the tension that’s been rattling around in my chest from the prospect of everything that needs to get done.
“Want to sit with me while I read through Dawn’s journals?”
Doodle doesn’t respond, but also doesn’t move off my lap when I lean over and pull out a leather-bound notebook from the box. It’s a little dusty when I crack it open, and the page edges are yellowed.
Unexpected grief swells inside me at the sight of my grandma’s neat cursive.
Who knew that handwriting could make you miss someone?
I guess it makes sense. The cards Grandma sent me for birthdays and holidays were the only connection I had with her for most of my life.
Seeing her looping handwriting pricks my heart, a stinging reminder she’s gone, and I never bothered to know her beyond the words she wrote on a page, and now that’s the only way I’ll be able to know her.
Careful not to let my tears spill onto the pages and smear the ink, I wipe them away with the sleeve of my hoodie and start reading.
The sun is setting by the time I come back to my senses, my bladder and growling stomach too insistent to ignore any longer.
Doodle left hours ago, but I stayed out here reading.
Piecing together my grandma’s life story from her journals and scrapbooks page by page, until the picture of a badass, hilarious, stubborn, and incredible woman formed.
I’m drained, my emotions flayed open and laid bare. The churning anxiety of earlier has settled with the catharsis of letting everything that was pent up inside me out.
Dawn’s life was hard. Harder than anything I’ve ever faced.
It was a fight for her to keep the ranch from the moment it passed into her hands when her parents died when she was only sixteen.
She married my grandfather, a man almost fifteen years her senior, not for any great love, but because he could pay off her parent’s debts and keep her from losing Taurus Ranch.
The ranch had been in her family for generations, slowly losing profitability until Dawn took a risk and turned it into a guest ranch.
She built what this place is through blood, sweat, and tears.
She dealt with countless setbacks and kept going.
The unexpected death of her husband when her son was only twelve years old.
A wildfire that burned down a wedding gazebo she’d just built.
Her son resenting her for not selling the ranch she’d dedicated her life to keeping afloat, and cutting all ties with her, taking the only family she had left away.
That last one made me sob. The clear anguish she felt about my father leaving and taking me away hurt so much that I couldn’t breathe for a moment.
She was devastated by the hatred her son had developed for her because, in his eyes, “she chose the ranch over him”.
She regretted that she ever made him feel that way, questioned her life choices and stubborn commitment to the place that had taken everything from her, and prayed that in time he’d come around and realize that his ultimatum to sell the ranch or never see him again was cruel.
I’ve never hated my father more. If I could, I’d go back and fight to stay with my grandmother.
I would’ve found a way to visit. I would’ve written her back instead of glancing at her cards and then forgetting about them.
I wouldn’t have let my father’s bitterness keep me away from this kind, amazing woman who never stopped loving him despite his cruelty.
Who never stopped loving me and trusted me to take on her legacy, even after I forgot about her.
Her journals aren’t only filled with heartache.
I find out she had a strong fondness for chickens, and over the years bonded with several of them, carrying them around in a homemade chicken sling.
There are so many funny stories of interactions with guests, a whirlwind secret romance with a park ranger when she was in her late 50s, and—my favorite—so much about Cal.
She loved him like a son. Hell, she loved him more than her son, though she never wrote those exact words.
The passage from the day he showed up looking for a job painted a vivid picture of this strapping minotaur with deeply sad eyes that spoke of pain someone so young shouldn’t know.
She wrote that Cal was a gift from the universe.
Another chance at being the supportive presence she wanted to be for her son.
Someone to carry on the legacy of the ranch.
Dawn loved him, and I can’t pretend that I don’t understand why.
Stiff from sitting for so long, I grimace at the disaster zone I’d forgotten when I head back inside before I pee my pants.
When I exit the bathroom and head back to the kitchen, there’s a minotaur standing in the entryway.
“Cal!” My cheeks heat at his unexpected presence and the critical way he’s surveying the piles covering the dining table and spread across the living room floor. I approach him, trying to block his view with my body. “Hey! What’s up?”
He frowns. “You didn’t come to dinner.”
“Oh! Right, yeah, I was, uh, a little distracted.”
One of his eyebrows lifts. “I can see that now. Doing some reorganizing?”
He looks amused rather than angry at me for making a mess of Dawn’s house, so I let down my guard a little.
“Uh, yeah! August took my phone and laptop so I could take a break, but then I was sitting here thinking about everything that needs to get done, so I tried to organize a bit and well…you can see how that went.”
Cal shrugs. “It always looks worse before it gets better.”
His lack of judgement makes my chest squeeze. All of my past boyfriends would’ve taken one look at the mess in here and made some snide comment about how I’m chaotic.
Not that Cal is my boyfriend. But still. It’s nice.
“Try to remember that when we start the renovations,” I tease.
He chuckles, the sound deep and far too attractive. “I will. Want some help? August is on his way over with food and your electronics he held hostage. I bet between the three of us we can get things done tonight.”
“Oh no, I’m sure you have other things to do.”
Cal ignores me, taking his hat off as if he’s getting ready to settle in. “Wouldn’t offer if I did.”
I open my mouth to wave him off again, disconcerted by the kindness, but Cal continues before I can speak.
“Besides, I doubt you’ll be able to focus on all the things we need to get done if your house looks like a bunch of raccoons ransacked it. So it only makes sense to help you get that sorted now.”
I snort. “True. Alright, if you really don’t mind.”
His deep blue eyes lock with mine, and my heart skips a beat. “I don’t.”
It’s a good thing August is headed this way, because being alone with Cal has become far too dangerous. Especially when he looks at me like that.
Clearing my throat, I change the subject to break the tension. “I read about you this afternoon.”
Cal tilts his head, ears flicking.
I incline my chin toward the box of journals. “Dawn wrote a lot about you.”
There’s a flash of something sad in his eyes, but he smiles. “Good things, I hope.”
“Very good. You can see for yourself, if you’d like.” I gesture toward the paisley journal.
“That’s all right. She let me know plenty how she felt about me.”
I worry I’ve misstepped with my offer, but Cal’s mouth slants. “Find anything juicy in them?”
“Oh tons! Also got some inspiration. Did you know there was a wedding gazebo? This place would be perfect for weddings! We could put one up by the pond near the lodge.”
Cal grins at my enthusiasm. “Put it on the list of ideas.”
“What about reopening the archery range?” I ask.
“We’d need someone who could run it,” Cal says.
I’ve already considered that. “No problem! Jade, one of the women in Remy’s D&D game used to run an archery booth at various Renaissance fairs.”
“Hmm, I guess if she’d be interested we could figure it out.”
“I’ll ask her!”
Cal chuckles. “Sounds good.”
“Did you know Dawn had a lover?” I ask, waggling my eyebrows.
“She had a what now?” he sputters.
“Apparently she hooked up with a park ranger named Tim for like four years before he moved away.”
“Who was hooking up with Ranger Tim?” August’s voice draws my attention to the front door, where he’s standing with a to-go box from the dining hall and a canvas bag over his shoulder.
“Dawn,” Cal replies with a disbelieving huff.
“Good for her,” August chuckles. “Brought you some food, Miss Belle. And your devices.”
“Already told her you were coming,” Cal says.
August moves to the dining table to set the food down and frowns when he sees there’s no space. “Now, what’s going on with all this?”
“She’s reorganizing,” Cal says before I can reply. “We’re helping.”
August nods. “Well, alright then. Where should I start?”
Is it really that simple for them? I didn’t know people offered to help if they weren’t getting something in return. The only person who’s ever been like that for me is Gretchen, and she’s my best friend. August and Cal are…
Huh. They’re my friends. I mean, I knew that, but I hadn’t really processed it. Warmth swells inside me, and I can’t stop the goofy grin that spreads across my lips.
“Thank you. I’m really lucky to have you as my friends.”
Cal blinks, taken aback by my words for a second before nodding.
August grins and pulls me into a gentle hug. “We’re not just friends, Belle. We’re family.”