Chapter 2
Chapter two
Everett
Ican’t stop thinking about the girl with the blunt bangs and a taste for tequila.
She looked like sin and smelled faintly of oranges, and it’s driving me fucking wild.
The next few hours are spent between a large man and a woman with a baby, stuck in the middle seat of a full aircraft on my way back to Austin.
A few days in New York with Ashton provided a nice change of pace, as well as my first—and second—time on a plane, but I’m itching to get back to the ranch.
The city is too big, too noisy, too smelly.
My sister’s whirlwind lifestyle in a tiny, cramped studio left me desperate for the open air, hundreds of acres of pasture and meadow, and mucking out stables as the sun paints over the night sky.
Never would’ve imagined I’d be longing for a pile of horse shit, but here we are.
The Texas sun is hot on my skin as I step out of Austin’s airport, and God damn, it feels fucking good to be back.
It’s a two-hour drive from the airport to the ranch, but it’s not until I turn through the wooden archway and coast my truck halfway down the three-mile dirt road driveway that I feel like I can finally breathe easy again.
I leave my bags in the truck bed when I pull up outside the house.
My first stop is the private stable block behind my childhood home, where I find Della, my chestnut mare, and her yearling, Grover.
Grover sniffs my hand and turns away, disinterested, but Della nudges me with her nose, demanding attention and the sugar lump I stashed in my pocket from the box hanging by the door.
“Good girl,” I murmur, running a hand over her silken coat. “That’s my good girl. You want a run, Delly?”
I slip into her stall and begin to tack her up, offering her another sugar lump and leading her out to the paddock when I’m done. Stepping up onto a low concrete block, I swing my leg over Della’s back and climb into the saddle.
“Did you miss me, girl?” I tug lightly on the reins and squeeze her with my thighs, encouraging her from a trot to a canter, and once we’re out into open land, into a gallop.
This is where my girl shines. She’s fast and agile with one of the smoothest direction changes I’ve ever seen in a horse.
For a time, we used her on the ranch to round up cattle, but for the last year and a half, she’s been my personal horse, living a mostly-retired life of luxury in the biggest stall we have.
An hour and a half later, with a full heart and a clear head, I’m hanging Della’s saddle on the wall when the door to the stable block crashes open.
“The prodigal son returns!” A booming voice echoes in the wood-walled space, and a large hand claps me on the shoulder. I spin around to stare directly into the chin of my best friend, Brooks. “How was New York? How’s Ash?”
“Ashton is fine,” I tell him, ducking out of his shadow and subtly correcting my sister’s name.
Ashton always had a crush on Brooks when we were growing up, but Brooks likes to play around, and knowing all of his sordid little secrets, I don’t want him playing around anywhere near my little sister.
She might be little miss independent, living a hurricane kind of life in the big city, but she’s still my baby sister, and that means I’ll protect her and her heart for the rest of our lives.
“And New York is gross. Exactly as you’d imagine. ”
“Really? It looks kinda… fun.”
“It stinks. It’s busy, the air is dirty, it’s noisy as hell and it smells like hot garbage. It’s not even close to fun.”
Brooks smirks as we fall into step together, stopping at my truck to hoist my suitcase from the truck bed, before entering the main house.
It’s a sprawling, two-storey building built by my great-great-great Grandpops, and every generation since has added their own extension and flair.
It’s a mishmash of architectural and decor styles, and even though I don’t live within these walls anymore, to me, it’s home.
Brooks pushes through the door ahead of me.
“Yo, Mama Tanner, we’re home,” he calls.
“Brooks Hart, you get your tail in here!” The distant response is followed by muffled laughter and the jingle of clinking glassware.
I fight my suitcase into a corner before following my best friend through the long corridor and into the kitchen.
My mom is sitting up at the breakfast bar with Brooks’s mom, Ms Josie, and when we walk in, we take turns in dutifully dropping kisses on both of their cheeks.
Ms Josie and her family have lived and worked on our ranch for generations.
They might as well be family, at this point.
It’s no wonder Brooks and I grew up like brothers.
And with the Fishers owning the neighbouring land, and Jody living practically next door—well, everyone knew the three of us were a package deal.
Thick as thieves, Mom always used to say.
We were back then, and we still are today.
“It’s good to have you back, honey,” Mom says, beaming at me indulgently. “You were missed around here.”
“Was it my sparkling personality, or my ability to herd cattle that you missed the most?” I take the offered cup of coffee from Brooks, who is pouring one for himself from the jug on the counter, and clink it against the one in Mom’s hand.
“A little of both,” she admits with a bashful smile. “I always miss you when you’re not around. You’re the heart of this ranch.”
Right.
I’m the heart of the ranch. The one groomed to take over now that Grandaddy Smith is gone. The one everyone else defers to—even Dad—when something goes wrong.
And I love it. I do. I’ve always loved the ranch. I grew up knowing it would be mine someday, and I leaned heavily into it, learning everything I could about the business and the physical aspects of being a rancher.
But something has changed lately. Ashton is in New York now.
Grandaddy Smith is gone. Jody has his own family’s ranch to take care of, and even Brooks is around a little less.
And that girl from the airport is consuming every single thought, even now, as Ms Josie ruffles her son’s freshly-shorn hair playfully, and Mom’s eyes hang on me with curiosity.
I’m the heart of the Tanner Ranch… but outside of it, I’m not sure where I belong.