34. Bailey
Bailey
Starting the engine, I drove over to my parents’ house to get a few things for tonight.
Shifting the truck into park out front of their house, I got out and made my way up my parents’ porch steps and through their door.
I didn’t bother to knock because every time I did, my mom gave me guff about it.
I found my mom in the small office they’d added onto the house a few years ago. She raised an eyebrow, skepticism shining in the look on her face when she saw me. “Home in the middle of the day? ”
“Yeah, got everything pretty much done for the day at the Bronsons’. Where’s Dad?” I asked.
She heaved a sigh. “Outside stress working.”
Taking a seat on the recliner in the corner of the room, I leaned back. “What’s to stress about?”
The corners of her mouth tilted down the slightest bit. “What’s not to stress about?”
I didn’t miss the concern shadowing her features. I leaned forward in the seat. “Mom? What’s wrong?”
She looked down at the paperwork in front of her, picking one up and handing it to me. “I’m afraid we may lose the ranch.”
Complete shock froze me in my place, my hands unable to move to grab the paper she held out. “What do you mean we may lose the ranch?”
She set her hand down, leaving the paper on the edge of the desk. “We’re not bringing in enough money to make ends meet. We’re running out of savings to pull from, and we can’t keep living off dipping into our money set aside for retirement.”
“Why didn’t you guys tell me sooner?”
A look of sorrow shone in her eyes. “Honey, we don’t want to worry you with these things.”
“Mom, I can help. You and dad aren’t alone in keeping this ranch afloat. I’m sure the Bronsons would help out if they knew.”
She shook her head. “As much as the Bronsons have helped us over the past years, I don’t want their money. It’s one thing to offer labor, but cash? I can’t ask that of them. ”
We couldn’t lose this ranch. It’d been in our family for four generations. There was no fucking way I’d let us lose that. Land was only getting more expensive. If we lost the piece we had, there was no telling if we’d get another.
“I’ll think of something.” I grabbed the paper on the desk as I stood, folding it in fourths and shoving it in my back pocket.
My mom stood from her seat behind the desk as I came around, pulling her in for a hug. “I don’t want to put this burden on you,” she mumbled, her voice muffled from my shirt.
I let go of her. “It’s not a burden, Mom. This is my home, too. We all fight for what we love. We stick together. That’s what families do.”
She reached up to set her hand on my cheek. “You’ve always had a big heart, Bailey. One of the best things about you.”
I pursed my lips as she dropped her hand. “Speaking of big hearts, can I borrow a few things from your dining set?”
“Of course. Take whatever you need.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie. But Bailey, please don’t put this on your shoulders, too. You already have so much on your plate.”
I frowned. What was it with people thinking I did too much? I liked to keep busy. What was the problem with that?
“My plate will never be too full, Mom. Not when it comes to the people I love.”
She sat back in her seat as I turned and headed toward the door of her office. I strode through the house, stopping by the cabinet that held all of their finer cutlery and dining sets.
I sifted through all of the holiday sets, finally finding what I was looking for. The set that made me think of clear skies, wildflowers, and Lettie.
I wouldn’t accept moving, even if it was only a few miles away. Lettie was in my grasp, and I wasn’t letting go.
There had to be a way to keep this place. I’d figure it out, no matter what it took.