Chapter Fourteen
Diana
Two weeks later. The last day of August.
I shouldn’t be here.
I shouldn’t be here.
I shouldn’t be here.
And yet?
I heard gravel crunching behind me and whirled to find Caleb walking up, dressed in running shorts and a faded tee. He was covered in sweat, most likely having finished with a run. I’d known him since he was just a baby, I remembered the way he felt on my hip, the way he giggled when I played peek-a-boo with him, and his sweet baby scent. The only certainty in my life was this: time was the thief, and the world wasn’t going to wait for you to start living your life.
Which was why I was here, standing on Denver and Val’s porch for the first time in weeks. I’d had this day marked in my planner for the last three months, highlighted in green with a mountain sticker in the corner.
Today was my break—my last taste of freedom.
On Monday, I would be heading into the city to teach my first class of the fall semester. My teaching schedule was hectic this semester and with my firm on top of it, I knew that for the next four months, I wouldn’t have any free time. This was my last weekend to do something for me, and according to Emma, I hadn’t done that since February.
Caleb looked up at me with his striking gray eyes and smirked, reminding me of his uncle. “Sup, Di? Long time, no see.”
Guilt lodged itself in my throat then, making it difficult to reply. So, I gave him a smile, and Caleb, being almost a teenager, thought that was good enough. “Just teasin’,” he muttered, walking up the steps, birds chirping in the tree by Denver’s truck. “I know you’re busy as hell.”
My reply was instant, guilt be damned. “Don’t say ‘hell’,” I ordered.
He stopped on the top step and stared. “It’s a place, not a cuss word.”
Those damn cowboys were rubbing off on him . “It’s a cuss word to me, and you’re a child.”
Caleb was taller than me now, giving him the confidence he needed to argue. “I don’t look like a child,” he deadpanned, gesturing to his sweat-soaked shirt.
My heart squeezed as visions of him running through the house with a superman cape flying behind him as his laughter bounced off the walls was all I could see. No matter how big or tall this boy got, he’d always be Denver’s dark haired, chubby-cheeked, little boy to me. He would be married with four children, and he’d still be that precious baby boy to me.
“Until you turn eighteen, you’re a child, and you cuss in front of me again….” I trailed off, trying to think of something that would scare him. “I’ll pinch your ear,” I threatened.
One of his dark brows rose, making him look more like his dad than his uncle now. “You’ll pinch my ear?” he parroted, confused. “Is that all you got? Usually, the guys threaten to whoop my ass.”
“Don’t say ‘ass!’”
“It’s a part of the body, Di,” he grumbled.
“No. You say butt or—or tooshie,” I blurted.
Now, he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Did you just say ‘tooshie?’”
Yeah, I clearly wasn’t getting any cool aunt points today.
“You’re a nut, you know that?” he asked, pulling me from my thoughts. “Which is surprising because everyone else finds you intimidating.”
“I am intimidating,” I shot back.
Once again, he looked seconds away from laughing.
I pointed my finger up at him. “Don’t test me, Caleb Langston.”
He looked me up and down, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah, I’m not scare of you, Di.”
I faltered, letting my hand fall back down to my side. Before I could utter another world, he moved towards the door, yanking open the screened one. “You coming inside or what?”
I didn’t want to, I really didn’t, but I had to.
“Also, why are you dressed like that?” he asked over his shoulder, his tall body gobbling up most of the doorway.
I looked down, taking in my hiking boots, baby blue leggings, and cropped gray shirt. It was the only non-work outfit I actually felt confident in, even if my rounded belly showed. Slowly, I was learning to accept and love my body while overcoming the toxic habits I’d picked up in college to stay sane.
“I was going to ask Val or your dad if I could hike up the west side of the mountain today,” I answered, looking back up to him.
I didn’t want to show my face to Denver or Val, knowing how crappy of a friend I’d been these last few weeks, but I wasn’t about to use their land to work off my issues without their permission. The truth was, Langston Mountain was the best local hiking if you didn’t want to drive forty minutes either way. Not to mention, I was familiar with these trails and didn’t have the energy to figure out a new one. Here, I could get some sunshine, clear my head, and know where I was at all times—on Hallow Ranch.
“You don’t have to ask,” he chuckled, jerking his chin to the mountain. “Just go.”
I hesitated. “I feel like I need to—”
“You're family just as much as anyone else on this ranch, Di,” he said, waving me off. “Valerie isn’t here anyways, and Dad’s with the herd.”
I wanted to ask why he wasn’t with his dad, but I refrained.
“Oh,” I mumbled, looking down to the barn, my eyes on the “H” slapped on over the red paint. “Where is Val?”
“The flower shop with Harm and NJ,” he answered, waving me off for a second time.
I flinched, but thankfully, Caleb didn’t catch it. He was too busy yawning. “Long morning?” I wondered out loud, studying him as he scratched his head.
“Yeah. I think I’m going to take a nap.”
I looked down to the barn, then back to him. “Don’t you have chores to do?”
He shot me a look. “You sound like Jigs.”
“I—”
“Go. Enjoy your hike. I’ll tell Dad you’re here,” he said, cutting me off.
I gave up, giving him a small smile. “Thanks, Caleb.”
He shot me another smirk and disappeared inside.
I pulled over, parking my car in the grass by the barbed wire fence, and looked up to the mountain, taking in the lush trees. The sky was blue, the brightest it’d been in days, actually, and thick, fluffy, pearl-white clouds were scattered across it, stretching for miles.
The other side of the mountain was still healing from the fire, but the trees had actually started to bloom this past spring. Hopefully, by next year, the scar of Tim Moonie would be gone, and he would be nothing more than a crappy memory. Then, and only then, would I feel comfortable hiking on that side. So far, I hadn’t.
I didn’t want to interrupt the healing.
After putting the car in park, I swung out and looked up and down the quiet road. No one, aside from the Hallow Ranch boys, drove back here, making it seem eerie in a way, but I knew my car would be safe. I walked around to the other side, opened the door to the backseat, and grabbed my backpack, pulling out the sunscreen. Once I was sprayed down, I locked up the car, hooked the bag on my shoulders, and made my way down the fence line, searching for the small gate door in the barbed wire fence Beau showed me the first time I hiked on Langston mountain.
Though I’d been hiking up and down this side of the mountain for years in nearly every season, this time of year was my favorite.
Autumn was approaching, and the trees were about to turn from green to stunning oranges, yellows, and reds. The sun was hot, yes, but it was cooler now as summer came to a close, making the hike more bearable.
Today was the perfect day to get lost in the woods, drench myself in sunshine, and leave my troubles on the road. Plus, my seasonal allergies wouldn’t take such a beating after. All around me, the Earth was alive, blessing me with a beauty unlike any other.
My skin warmed underneath the rays, pale and blinding as always. No matter how hard I tried, I never tanned. I burned, healed, and reverted to pale.
“There it is,” I muttered when I spotted the small gate about a hundred yards from my car. I wrapped my fingers around the straps of my backpack, adjusting it one last time as I came to a stop in front of the fairytale-style gate, the white paint chipped and fading.
There was similar gate in the fence line on the other side of the ranch, one that led to the cabin Denver had kept for Beau. It was originally supposed to go to Jigs, a home for him to raise Beau in, but he declined. I knew it was just a matter of time before Den asked me about changing the name on the deed, especially now that Abbie was moving in.
As I stepped onto the property, the wind around me shifted, and a chill crawled up my spine. I looked over my shoulder, my eyes drifting to the tops of the tall, magnificent pine trees across the narrow road. As the wind continued to hit me, sending my ponytail in every direction but down, I looked back to the forest in front of me, studying the tree line. The tops flowed back and forth in time with the wind, the branches moving in harmony. The chill on my back slithered up my neck and over my shoulders.
In the distance, I heard a cry of a hawk, and I looked to my right, seeing it soar towards me, the sun shining down on its beautiful wings. It flew over me, unbothered by my presence on before disappearing around the bend.
A memory tugged at me then, one from years ago. It was only of the only nights I’d dared to eat dinner in the bunkhouse—with the twins cooking. As usual, they’d been bickering, providing entertainment for Beau, Jigs, and me while we waited on Denver and Caleb to come down. That night, Mags opted out of dinner, choosing to stay in the barn and double check all the work the twins had done, apparently.
After a while, the twins stopped arguing and asked Jigs if something was true…
“Come on, old man,” Lance said, looking towards the front door, as if he didn’t want Denver to walk in on this conversation. “You can tell us.”
Jigs’ mustache twitched, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Tell you what? That your cooking is worse than Beau’s?”
I looked up from the work I had to take home with me that night, laughing. “What? Jigs, you didn’t teach Beau how to cook?”
“Don’t listen to Pop, Diana,” Beau drawled from the arm chair in the corner. “We all know I’m the best cook here.”
Jigs turned in his seat, plucking his toothpick from his lips and pointing at his son with it. “I taught you many things, son, but I never taught you how to lie.”
“That’s not what we’re talking about,” Lawson grumbled, stirring something in the cast iron skillet.
I scrunched my nose, studying how the…substance started bubbling for a moment.
“Then what the hell are you talkin’ about? Because I’m not a damn mind reader,” Jigs said as I looked back down, re-reading the last paragraph, dragging my pen across each line.
I was dead set on tuning them out in order to finish reading through this contract before dinner was served, but Lance’s question had my head snapping right back up.
“Is this ranch haunted?”
Beau snorted, and my wide eyes shot over to him. He gave me a look, shaking his head. His father, the person here who’d been at Hallow Ranch the longest, said nothing. Lance and his brother shared a look, and before anyone else could utter a word, the bunkhouse door swung open.
Mags, dressed in all black as usual, stepped in, his head down, the brim of his cowboy hat concealing his face. Behind him, in the distance, lightning lit up the dark sky and thunder rolled.
“Bet Mags knows,” Lance muttered.
The cowboy lifted his head then, his dark eyes landing directly on me, and, like always, my breath caught. His dark pools studied me, tested me, beckoned me to come to him, to drown in him. He said nothing when he broke our gaze and walked back to his bunk. Goosebumps spread across my arms, and I shivered.
Lawson caught it and jerked his chin in my direction. “Sure has Diana spooked.”
All eyes were on me then. “I’m cold, that’s all,” I lied.
“Uh huh, sure,” Lance drawled, but all I could focus on were Mags’ movements behind me. I regretted picking this seat at the table now. I hadn’t seen him in months, despite me coming here every other week to deal with Caleb’s mother.
Jigs shook his head, running his hand through his white hair. “What brought this on, boys?”
Then, the twins dove in and explained about the “weird” things they’d seen on the ranch and in the buildings. About a minute in, I looked down, trying to focus on my work as my heart thundered in my ears, my body painfully aware of Mags’ proximity. A minute or two later, Beau started snoring in the arm chair.
With Beau sleeping, the twins yapping to Jigs, and Jigs trying to pay attention to said yapping, no one in the bunkhouse saw what happened next.
I felt heat at my back, Mags’ familiar scent all around me know. Slowly, I twisted my neck, looking up at him as he wrapped an blue and cream afghan around my shoulders. A lump grew in my throat. “What—”
“Should warm up in a minute,” he said, his jagged voice the softest I’d ever heard it, before moving towards the door. I watched every second, clutching the afghan around me, my heart ready to follow him wherever he was going, logic be damned.
“Mags! Before you go, just tell us what you think,” Lawson called out to his back.
Mags, hand on the doorknob, looked over his shoulder, his eyes on me. “Of course, Hallow Ranch is fuckin’ haunted.”
Then he was gone, taking my heart with him.
I blinked, mentally shaking off one of the many memories of Mags as well as the chill.
“This ranch is haunted, but I didn’t piss of any spirits, so I’m good,” I assured myself, pulling out my phone to make sure my location was on and available to everyone. I double checked that the gate was locked and headed towards the trail opening tucked between a large oak and pine tree. As I got closer, the inside of the forest came into focus, showing the beauty that awaited me. The sunlight bled through the tree canopy, highlighting the forest floor in an unpredictable pattern.
I took a deep breath, rolled my neck, and stepped inside.
It wasn’t until forty-five minutes later, when I was halfway up the mountain, that everything went to shit.
My breaths were uncontrolled and labored as I swung my body around the tree, pressing my back against it as I looked all around me, searching for a better hiding spot. Behind me, on the other side of the tree—I didn’t know how far away—-I could hear the bear running, twigs and leaves crunching underneath his paws. I closed my eyes and bit down, trying to hold my breath.
The bear roared and started stiffing around.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I slowly put my trembling hand over my mouth and opened my eyes again. In the distance, about a half a football field away down the hill, there was a small clearing. I knew this path, this trail. I knew it almost as well as the cowboys, and on the other side of that small meadow, was a hollowed log wide enough for me to hide in.
It was my only option and though not the best, anything was better than staying here to be Mr. Bear’s lunch. I would be able to drop my backpack halfway, and hopefully, the bear would be distracted enough to so I could get away.
I slowly dropped my hand, bracing against the tree bark to push off.
One.
Two.
Three.
I shot away from the tree, my feet pounding against the ground as I skirted around trees, gaining speed the further I descended the hill. Another roar sounded off behind me, and I made the fatal mistake of looking over my shoulder. I barely got a glimpse of the beast before pain erupted in my ankle, and before I could comprehend what was happening, I went down. My body crashed against the hard ground, more pain sparking in my shoulder as I slid down the hill. I cried out, my body rolling. The world flashed around me, the sky, then the ground, then the sky again. My leg hit something, but still, I didn’t stop—gravity was in control now. With another cry, I stretched out my arms, searching for something to cling to, but it was no use.
I flipped over a final time, landing on my side at the bottom of the hill, covered in dirt, my body consumed by pain.
With all my might, I rolled to my back, the sky above still blue, the clouds still white, the sun still at its peak. Panic hit me, and I turned my head, ignoring the pain to search for the bear. My backpack was a few yards away, the teal fabric covered in dirt and leaves. I laid on the edge of the clearing for a while, not taking my eyes off the hill. Minutes or hours passed, I didn’t really know, and when the bear never made an appearance, I closed my eyes, tears sliding down the sides of my head now.
I knew two things.
One, I was never going hiking alone again.
Two, pain. All I felt was pain.