Chapter 18 Everett
Chapter eighteen
Everett
The following morning, I wake exactly as I fell asleep: at a three-quarter angle between my back and my side, with Ruth’s head on my chest and my arm holding her securely against my body.
I take the chance to glance down at her.
Her face is smooth, a small, content smile on her lips.
The day’s worries not yet weighing on the space between her brows.
When I finally drag myself out of bed, I leave Ruth scrolling through messages from her friends while I shower, and then I cook breakfast while she showers.
Although Ruth winkles her nose at what she calls ‘a sorry excuse for bacon’, she still eats everything on her plate and returns to the baking tray for more.
Once we’ve cleaned up after breakfast, I grab my keys and my sunglasses, and we head out the door.
I’m unlocking my truck when Ruth stops.
“How far is it to walk to your parents’ house?” Her question throws me for a split second. I never think of it as ‘my parents’ house’. My childhood home, sure. The house I grew up in. My family home. But usually, it’s ‘the main house’.
“It’s about a twenty-minute walk. Longer, if you don’t rush.” I round the truck and open the passenger door for her. I dip my head to hers before I finish my thought. “And ain’t nobody rushin’ in Texas heat, baby girl.”
She considers my words for a minute, sliding her sunglasses from the top of her head to her eyes, then nods and climbs in, reaching for the door even as I close it behind her.
By the time we arrive at the main house and make our way through to the kitchen, it’s quite clear we’re the last ones to arrive.
Jody is making himself at home rummaging through the fridge, and without even turning to see me in the doorway, he tosses a bottle of water in my direction, followed immediately by a second one.
I catch both. He emerges with a third bottle, and a plate of my mom’s strawberry and cream muffins in his other hand.
His own mother, Ms Angie, simply shakes her head as she lifts an enormous mug of coffee to her lips.
“You’d think the poor boy’s never seen food a day in his life,” she says with the tiniest quirk of her lips. “It’s a wonder he stays so skinny.”
“Hollow legs,” Mick Fisher answers, although with his heavy Texas drawl, it sounds a little more like holler than hollow. Ms Angie and her husband, Mick, are as close to me as my own parents, and Brooks’ parents too.
Ruth and I take seats at the long dining table, on the bench opposite my parents and Ms Angie. Mick takes a seat beside his wife, and Jody slides in beside me. Ruth pulls out a legal pad and a floral pencil case, and Mom does the same. Ms Angie has a handful of printed pages in front of her.
“So, Ruth, Ev says you might be able to help us out here,” Mom begins. I clear my throat, eyes narrowed. Ruth nudges me gently, a silent instruction to stand down.
“I might,” Ruth says. “It all depends on what you want to do. Ev hasn’t really told me much, so why don’t you tell me the plan?”
Mom and Ms Angie take turns in sharing their ideas for a cooperative business between our two ranches. Mick interjects periodically, with the occasional comment from Dad, and my brain spins a thousand miles an hour trying to keep up.
It’s impressive. Mom and Ms Angie have done a ton of research, that much is obvious.
Dad nods along as Mom presents a cost analysis.
Ms Angie shares some comments from a couple of businesses in Skillett, about how they believe this will help revitalise the town.
By the time they’re done, Ruth has filled two pages with neatly-scrawled notes, and Mom is breathing fast, leaning in across the table with a pleading look in her eyes.
“Okay,” Ruth says, placing her pen on her notepad. “So, where, exactly, do you need my help? It sounds like you have this figured out, to be honest.”
“We needa get contracts,” Mick jumps in, except the word get sounds more like git. “Ain’t goin’ into business with no one without contracts. Not even buddies, am I right, Derrick?”
“You got that right, Mick,” Dad answers. “Ruth, we were kinda hoping, uh—we were hopin’ you might be able to advise.”
“Well, business law isn’t really my specialty,” Ruth starts. “I mean, if you have a contract drawn up, I can take a look, but—”
“Okay, we can get Malcolm,” Ms Angie says.
“That asshole bought his law degree from Disneyland,” Dad grumbles. “He don’t know shit.”
“Derrick,” Mom admonishes.
“Well, ain’t that why we’d have Ruth look it over?” Jody speaks up. He’s been quiet up to now. “Make sure we ain’t gettin’ fucked in the ass?”
My lips quirk, and I can’t help the smirk that spreads. “Jody Fisher, you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
Across the table, Ms Angie frowns at her son’s language.
“I can definitely take a look,” Ruth says, carefully training her expression.
I can tell from the way her eyes sparkle that she’s dying to crack a smile, but she’s determined to keep a professional facade.
Dad must be able to tell, too, because his lips twitch, before his mouth opens and he cackles loudly.
Before long, we’re all laughing, Ruth and I holding each other and Jody falling into me as tears stream down our faces.
Mick slaps a hand on his thigh as he cackles.
“So, that’s it, then,” Dad says, catching his breath. “We get a contract, and Ruth here looks it over for us.”
“Sounds like a job done to me,” Ms Angie says. “I ain’t one for tempting fate, but this sounds like the start of a beautiful partnership.”
“Welcome to the family, kiddo,” Dad says.
He winks at Ruth, who beams back at him, and my heart swells to triple its size in my chest. Almost all the people I love the most are in this room right now: Mom, Dad, Jody, Ruth.
The only ones missing are Brooks and Ashton.
Brooks is outside somewhere, supervising the delivery of animal feed.
Ashton’s picture is right above Ms Angie’s head on the wall, eyes sparkling down at me, so it’s almost like she’s here with us.
It’s not lost on me how quickly Ruth has become a part of that group—the group of my favourite people. And it fills me with the most unimaginable joy that my family have welcomed her with such open arms.
We spend a little while longer talking about plans for the new venture, tossing around ideas.
Ruth posits the idea of registering the joint venture as a separate business, jointly owned by the Tanners and Fishers, rather than trying to run it split across our two existing ranch businesses.
It makes sense, and now Jody is trying to come up with names.
“Tisher? Fanner?” he suggests.
“Be so for real, Jody,” I say with an exaggerated eye roll. “We’re not calling this thing Fanner.”
“You got a better idea?”
“Leave it with me,” I promise. Another couple of minutes of good natured ribbing, and then the room empties out.
The Fishers return to their ranch, with the promise of a grill party soon.
Mom retreats to her office to make some calls.
Dad joins Brooks and Silas to unload and distribute the feed amongst the storage barns. Ruth and I return to my truck.
“I gotta head into town real quick, baby girl,” I say.
“Gotta pick up some parts for the baler.” Our hay baler has had some engine issues lately, and between Brooks and Jody, they managed to narrow it down to just one or two causes.
We’ve ordered some new parts which can’t be delivered for another week, but since the supplier is right outside Skillett, I gave them a call and agreed to collect it all myself.
Ruth’s eyes light up. “Can we stop at that diner? I’ve been dreaming of those milkshakes.”
And that’s how we found ourselves outside Miss Celia’s diner, between the Chevy and the door, face-to-face with Bethany.
“Hi Ev,” Bethany purrs. She glances dismissively at Ruth, a slight sneer at the sight of her hand in mine, then locks her eyes on me again and adopts a syrupy-sweet tone. “It’s been a while. I’ve missed seeing you around here. Hey, you remember prom night? And all those nights after?”
I narrow my eyes. Prom night was my first time.
Bethany’s, too, or so she told me. We had no idea what we were doing.
It was over in a minute, sweaty and sticky and entirely unremarkable.
I don’t miss the way Ruth’s hand trembles in mine, or the hitch in her breath as Bethany leans in with a seductive smile.
At least, she thinks it’s seductive. Probably. I think it’s a little too try-hard.
It’s petty and mean, two things I never want to be, but I shrug as I say “Huh… not really.” Bethany’s face falls, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
She tries not to let her disappointment show, immediately plastering the fake smile back on her face as she looks Ruth up and down, before turning back to me.
“Well, I hope we get to do it again soon. Like I said… you’ve been missed around here.”
Before I even have time to formulate a response, she turns and flounces away, her high-heeled sandals clacking on the ground. I take a slow, deep breath to compose myself before squeezing Ruth’s hand and pulling her in front of me, facing me.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” My words come out in a hoarse whisper. “She never did have any tact. Or any class, come to think of it.”
“At least she has taste,” Ruth says. The accompanying giggle is a little too harsh, a little too loud, and her eyes are wild and unsettled.
“Nah, baby girl. If she had taste, she’d be after you, not me.”
Ruth snorts, and I step forward, pulling her into me for a long hug.
It takes her just a second longer than usual to return my embrace, but still, her touch is grounding.
And when she squeezes her arms around me, pressing herself closer, a hundred-pound, blonde-haired weight is lifted from my chest, and breathing comes easy again.
We’re quiet until we’re back in my truck, milkshakes in to-go cups dripping condensation into the cupholders between us.
“She was my high school girlfriend,” I say into the quiet. I turn the key in the ignition, shift the truck into gear, and back out of the space, one arm around the back of Ruth’s seat as I reverse. “We dated all of junior and senior year. Prom was our first time.”
Ruth says nothing.
“I haven’t seen her for a year, until recently.
I bumped into her a couple months back, and she was all over Cooper Tell.
He went to school with us, too. Couple years younger.
Eyed me up like fresh meat, but—Ruth, honey.
I’m not interested in her. She could parade naked right in front of me, and I wouldn’t even care. She’s not you.”
“Why do you do that?” Her first words since bumping into my ex-girlfriend, and they’re not even about the whole monologue I just spilled. The one where I all but told her how hard I’ve fallen.
“Do what?”
“You always call me Ruth. Never Roo, like all my friends do. But you’re Ev, and I know you shorten your sister’s name too.”
“I don’t want to be everyone else to you, Ruth. Your name is beautiful, like you. Classic. Timeless. Elegant.” She stares at me, jaw dropped just a little, like she’s about to speak. But she says nothing. “You’re the only one I see, Ruth.”
Several minutes later, she finally speaks. Our milkshakes are melting between us, even though I gassed up the air con in the truck last month, and it’s still working pretty well.
“I guess it’s a good thing you’re not just everyone else to me, either,” she says quietly. I reach for her hand, and we drive the rest of the way home in silence, fingers intertwined.
When we reach my cabin, Ruth busies herself with a FaceTime call to her friends, and I send a text to my sister, then make a quick call to Brooks.
“Hey, man. I need a favour. You got time tomorrow morning?”