Chapter 11 Colton
COLTON
“Here you go, Colton. They’re all yours,” Logan Wallace says as he gestures to the new farm animals that are being unloaded in front of us.
When Sam messaged me last week that he’d organized for someone to bring the cattle to me, I wasn’t sure who to expect, but it was a nice surprise to see one of the Wallace brothers coming down my drive along with a caravan of Saddle Ridge Ranch trailers.
The Wallace family runs a large ranch in one of the neighboring towns, and the oldest brother, Mason, is a bull rider in the circuit that I spent the last few years competing against.
“Sounds great,” I tell him, reaching out to shake his hand. “Thank you again for agreeing to bring them out here. If you can’t tell, I’ve had my hands full with this property.”
Logan looks over at the farmhouse and laughs, taking in its disheveled appearance from here. “Yeah, I’d say so. Have you started working on it yet?”
“The plan is actually to start today. To be honest, there’s a little bit of a squirrel infestation that’s slowing me down more than I’d like.”
Logan laughs, shaking his head at me. “Don’t tell me the great Colton Harris is afraid of a few squirrels.”
My face turns serious as I tell him, “Man, you laugh, but these things are vicious. I’ll take an angry bull in a pen a hundred times over compared to those things.”
Logan doubles over as he continues to laugh at me, and I flip him off before walking over to look at the fields where my new cattle are getting unloaded by a few of Logan’s employees.
In one field, I see Diesel, and I shake my head as the old bull walks out of the trailer and immediately lies down, obviously ready for a nap.
Across the fence, there’s another bull, whose name I don’t remember at the moment, barreling out of the trailer as fast as he can, running circles in his large area of grass.
“Sam mentioned you’d be looking for a few heifers, so we loaded up a handful of them if you want them. I know you’ve got these bulls pretty divided with the fences, but I don’t think it’d be a bad idea to keep them from wanting to fight,” Logan suggests, and I nod.
“Yeah, that’d be great. How many you got?”
“Ten work for you to start?” Logan asks, and I nod.
“Just let me know how much, and I’ll write you a check before you leave.”
Logan slips away to let his workers know to unload the rest of their trailers, and I take a moment to revel in the feeling of seeing what I’ve been working towards for the last several months come to fruition.
“Welcome to the Last Lasso,” I murmur before heading off to help them unload the last of my new cattle.
Swiping the sweat from my brow later that afternoon, I let out a groan. Isn’t early September supposed to be cool? It’s fucking ninety degrees out here, I think, before turning to grab a water out of a cooler on the back of the truck.
Turning back, I take a moment to admire my handiwork on the porch.
After the cows were dropped off, I made sure they had plenty of water before starting to replace the old boards on the porch.
Thankfully, the foundation is still in great shape, so I managed to replace all the boards before it got too dark.
My bad arm is screaming in protest at the strain I’ve put it under today, but damn does it feel good to make some progress on this place.
Pulling out my phone, I dial Andy, the local pest control guy’s number again, blowing out a breath of frustration when it goes to voicemail. Again.
“Hey, Andy. It’s Colton Harris again. I just wanted to see if I could schedule a time for you to come look at the squirrel problem I’ve been having.
They’re really holding up my progress on the new house, so I’d like to get it taken care of as soon as possible.
Just give me a call when you get this, please. Thanks!”
Hanging up, I put my phone back in my pocket.
I spent yesterday searching for anyone else that might be willing to come take care of relocating these squirrels for me, but came up empty.
Damn this small town life definitely has some cons.
I look at the chair I just placed back on the porch and decide to take a few minutes to enjoy the view.
I grab my guitar out of the back seat of the truck and make my way back up the stairs to the porch.
Sitting down in the chair and looking out at the pasture to see the cattle roaming, I let out a deep breath.
For the first time, I can really imagine my life here— eating dinner in the farmhouse, sitting out on the porch, taking care of the cattle, and looking forward to ending each night with Lucy in my bed.
Wait— where the hell did that thought come from?
I remind myself for the hundredth time that Lucy and I are just friends, and that’s the way it has to stay.
If my promise to take care of the Phillips wasn’t enough to keep me away, Hayes’s daily texts checking in on how things are going are enough of a reminder of why I can’t push things any farther than they’ve already gone.
But God, that almost kiss from last night has been on my mind all day.
I haven’t been able to think of anything else other than her wide brown eyes and her pretty pink lips.
Shaking my head, I take a long sip of my water and strum my guitar, trying to lose myself in the music the way I always do.
But unlike every other time I’ve turned to music to help me clear my head, it doesn’t seem to be working the way I want it to.
I strum a few chords before immediately thinking of how much nicer this moment would be if Lucy was here.
Damn it, man. Pull your shit together, I remind myself, continuing to play quietly.
Looking out at the farm, I feel a small bit of the peace I’ve been waiting to come hit me, and I can’t help the grin that takes over my face.
After a few more moments, I’m finally starting to relax when I hear a tapping behind me on the glass.
Startled, I turn to see two of the squirrels standing in the windowsill above my head, watching me play through the glass.
Those damn fuckers, I think, shaking my head. I guess it’s true that life in Mills Corner will never be boring.
“What are you doing out here?” Lucy asks later that night, coming out to join me on the back porch where I’m strumming my guitar. “And why didn’t I know you played guitar?”
I’d given up trying to play at my house after the squirrel fiasco, and I’d wandered out to the porch at Cedar Creek to try to clear my mind.
I shrug, setting my guitar beside my chair and taking a long sip of my beer. “Oh, it’s just something I do to clear my head. I’m not going on tour anytime soon or anything like that.”
Lucy laughs at that, folding her legs under her as she sits on the other end of the outdoor sofa. “Can I hear you play something?”
I hesitate, trying to decide what to say. No one’s ever listened to me play before—not even Hayes. But for some reason, I pick up my guitar and start to strum. As usual, I don’t really have a song in mind—just losing myself to the music as my fingers float across the strings.
I don’t know how long I play for, but after a while, I stop and fight the urge to look over at Lucy.
“Holy shit, is there anything you aren’t good at?” Lucy groans, and I shake my head.
“You’re just being nice,” I say, taking another sip of my drink.
“I’m serious, Colton. I really enjoyed that. Thank you for playing for me,” Lucy says, smiling over at me. She looks so beautiful under the moonlight, and I wish that I could pull her into my lap and kiss her hard the way I did the night we met.
“Sure,” I mutter, turning to look at her.“So, since we’re learning more about each other, tell me more about yourself, Lucy Phillips.”
“Ugh, I never know what to say when people ask me about myself,” she groans, causing me to laugh.
“Okay, that’s fair. I’ll be more specific. What’s your favorite color?” I ask.
“My favorite color?” she says, the shock evident on her face.
“Yeah, if you had to choose.”
“Um, probably light blue,” she answers. “What about yours?”
“Green,” I say quickly.
Lucy nods, thinking for a moment before she asks, “Favorite animal?”
“Are cows too obvious of an answer?” I tease.
“I figured that’s what you’d say. What about yours?”
Lucy thinks for a moment, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know. That’s a really hard one. Probably a tie between pigs and dogs. I know that’s probably not all that surprising either, though.”
“Favorite ice cream flavor?” I ask.
“Chocolate,” Lucy answers immediately. “Yours?”
“Strawberry,” I say.
“Hm, favorite TV show?”
I pause, trying to think. “Not too into television. What’s yours?”
“I can see that,” she laughs. “And probably Gilmore Girls.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” I tease.
“Yeah, you’re right. How was your day today?”Lucy asks.
“It was good. My first few animals got delivered over at the farm, and I’m pretty excited about that.”
“Oh, that is exciting. I haven’t seen that property in years. You’ll have to give me a tour soon.”
“I’d be happy to,” I say truthfully. “What did you do today?”
“I spent most of the day in the pumpkin patch. I also checked in on the horses, mucked their stalls, and poured another batch of candles so that we’re ready for opening weekend,” she tells me with a yawn.
I nod. “Sounds like a full day.”
“It wasn’t too bad,” she says, moving to stand up. “But to be honest, I’m exhausted. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight, Lucy,” I say, picking back up my guitar as she heads inside.
I resume strumming, letting my hands drift across the strings, but the peace I found earlier this evening never comes. Instead, I’m left thinking that I wish Lucy were still here.