Chapter One
Posey
TWENTY-ONE MONTHS LATER
I’ve never seen my brother so miserable and depressed. And I hate that there’s nothing I can say or do to lift his spirits.
“You’re comin’ to Bellamy and Bodie’s birthday party tonight, right?” I ask when I find him at his desk. He’s the stables manager of the horse ranch and where his office is located.
He’s ignored our sibling group chat all week and hasn’t confirmed if he’d be there or not. The twins are turning fifteen and since they’re the youngest, everyone makes a big deal out of it. Mostly, Mom and Aunt JoJo take any excuse to cook and bake all day.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he grumbles, not looking away from his computer screen.
His hair’s longer than usual, messy on the top and overgrown on the sides. He hasn’t shaved in weeks, which isn’t abnormal, but he hasn’t kept up with trimming it. The bags under his eyes represent how much he’s not sleeping without his wife next to him.
I’m honestly surprised he’s kept up with his job at this rate.
Not that Dad would fire him, but if it got bad enough, he’d definitely pull him aside and talk to him about it.
Our property is split into two businesses.
One side for the horse ranch and the other for the luxury camping resort.
We rent out cabins, leisure treehouses, domes, and glamping tents.
It’s primarily for couples looking to respark their love or want an anniversary getaway.
Since we’re nestled in the Appalachian Mountains, we offer guided horseback riding, trail walking, ziplining, biking, and cliff diving.
We also have massage therapists on staff who come directly to their rooms to help couples relax.
Most of the cabins also come with an outside hot tub.
Everyone in the family has a specific job on the ranch and resort. The three oldest siblings work full-time, but since the twins are still in high school, they work part-time on the weekends. Mom and Dad manage the finances, admin, marketing, and most of the employees.
I appreciate my job but working with your siblings means we’re always in each other’s business.
“You want me to come get you when it’s time?” I ask cautiously.
He lives in the trailer behind our parents’ house on the ranch side of our property, which is where he and Maisie were living so they had their own space and privacy. It’s only a few minutes away, but I hate that he’s there alone now.
“No, I don’t need a babysitter. I said I’ll be there, I’ll be there.”
Ironic he says that considering he thought I needed one at his wedding.
After he and Maisie got married, they spent all summer together before she went back to New York City for her final year of college. They did long-distance for another nine months, she visited a few times, then after graduation, she returned permanently.
He was so happy and excited to have his wife back instead of video chat dates and late night texts.
I couldn’t blame him though but knew they’d survive through it.
Watching their relationship over the years is exactly the type I’ve always wanted too.
Madly in love, can’t get enough of each other, and stupidly obsessed with one another.
Who wouldn’t want that?
But then she got offered an apprenticeship and had to move back to pursue her dream in publishing. She begged him to come with her, but he wouldn’t leave the ranch.
I think he secretly hoped she’d realize she couldn’t live without him or didn’t like the job as much as she thought and would return. He visited her once but said it was like going to another country and not knowing the language.
Maisie visited over Christmas, but even I could feel the tension between them. I’d never seen Warren so damn broken when she finally told him that if he had no intention of moving there with her, they were over.
That was three months ago.
As far as I know, they haven’t spoken since the day she left.
“Alright, see ya there.”
I spend the next few hours helping Mom set up and decorate the house so the twins return from school with it all ready to go.
My other younger brother, Colton, works full-time on the resort side, so I’m the only one around to help.
He only graduated high school last spring and has been training to become the operations manager.
Since I work as a receptionist at the Branch Haven where guests check in and out, my job’s more flexible for me to take off or find coverage.
Although I don’t plan to work there forever. I’m trying to convince my dad to let me start a goat farm so we can produce goat milk and use them for brush control in some of the pastures. I’ve been researching and putting together a business plan so he’ll take me seriously.
He hasn’t said no to the idea, so that’s promising.
I grew up with horses and love riding, but I don’t want to work with them all day.
My dream would be to fix up one of the older barns to house the goats and then open an online goat soap business.
Since we give each guest at the resort a welcome self-care basket, it’d be another item to include as well, which would also help promote it.
We could sell wholesale stock to retailers and so much more.
There are plenty of small businesses in town that’d love to sell it.
Mom’s all for it and told me she’ll approve it even if Dad doesn’t. But I don’t think that’s going to be an issue. He wants to make sure this is something I truly want to do and not invest in something I’ll get bored of in six months.
“Maybe your brothers can help with gettin’ that old barn restored this summer,” Mom suggests after asking if Dad has given me an answer. Although he hasn’t, she’s convinced he will.
“That’d be nice since I have no knowledge of that sorta thing,” I respond.
“I can’t wait to cuddle all the baby goats,” Aunt JoJo gushes, and I laugh.
“Me too.”
Aunt Josephine’s the chef and manager at the Summit View Restaurant on the resort side. She lives in the garage that my dad and brothers turned into an apartment for her after my uncle died.
When it’s apparent that Warren isn’t coming, I offer to go look for him. Everyone’s in the dining room, waiting to eat, and he’s nowhere to be found.
I’m shocked when I find Silas’s truck beside Warren’s and contemplate knocking or not. Silas and I haven’t talked much since the wedding weekend—mostly because I have nothing to say to him—but every time I see him, I’m reminded of our night together that he doesn’t remember.
Before I approach, the trailer door swings open, and I’m greeted by a scowl.
“What’re you doin’ here?” Warren snaps, throwing an empty beer can toward the trash bin before placing a ballcap on his head.
“You’re late,” I tell him, folding my arms and returning his attitude.
“That’s my fault,” Silas says, coming up behind him. “I didn’t realize the time.”
When my gaze reaches his, I swallow hard at the sincere way he’s looking at me.
But I ignore it.
“Go figure,” I mutter. “Let’s go.”
They silently follow me to the house but when Silas walks past me to get to his chair, his arm brushes my shoulder and sends an unwanted shiver down my spine. Instead of reacting, I pretend he doesn’t exist during dinner, even when I feel his heated gaze on me.
Although everyone’s ignoring the elephant in the room, I notice how much Warren drinks during the party. By the time Mom brings out the cake and we sing to the twins, he’s on his fifth beer. He had at least one beforehand, so he’s probably had over half a dozen by now.
He’s the only one of our siblings who’s legally allowed to have alcohol but Dad usually has some stocked in the fridge.
By the time the twins have ripped open every gift and left to play their new video games, Warren is half-passed out on the couch. Silas gets him to his feet but then stumbles with Warren’s dead weight.
“Here, let me help,” I quickly offer, standing against Warren’s other side and wrapping his arm around me so I can hold him up.
“I’m fine,” Warren slurs, barely keeping his eyes open.
“We better leave before my parents see him like this,” I tell Silas.
They’re cleaning up in the kitchen, and I usually help, but I was too concerned about Warren to leave him out here.
“Where’re we goin’?” Warren’s head bobbles from side to side as we shuffle through the back door.
“To your house so you can sleep off the killer hangover you’re gonna have in the mornin’,” I tell him.
“I’m not hungover…” he argues.
“Not yet,” I mumble, hanging onto him tighter.
Silas and I manage to open the trailer door and get him inside without the three of us falling. Warren collapses on his bed with a grunt.
“I’ll take off his boots,” Silas tells me, kneeling between Warren’s feet.
“Do you do this for him a lot?” I ask after watching him effortlessly remove Warren’s jeans and T-shirt.
“Sometimes…he’s not usually this out of it, though. Can you grab a blanket from the closet?” Silas points behind me.
He shoves a pillow under Warren’s head, covers him up, puts a trash can next to the bed and then sets his alarm so he’s not late for work.
“I’ll call in the mornin’ and check up on him,” Silas says before flipping off the lightswitch.
“I didn’t realize he was this bad.” I frown, wondering if he’ll ever get through this level of heartbreak.
Warren’s never been the blackout drunk type, but his drinking escalated after Maisie announced she was moving back to New York. Then got worse when she left.
“I overheard him drunk callin’ her last weekend. Left her a long voicemail and she never returned it,” Silas tells me.
“Oh, shit. Do you think they’re over for good?”
When we walk through the living room, there are empty beer cans and trash littered on the coffee table. Silas notices too, and together, we clean up.
“I dunno…” He shrugs. “Warren can’t live without her, that much is obvious, but he might have to.”
“Warren won’t give up. No matter how long it takes, he’ll fight for her.”