Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Haven
Gravy walks through the rolling pastures surrounding Hawthorne Ranch.
We’re close to the big house and riding through the guest part of the ranch, which isn’t crowded by the Beartooth Mountains.
We stick to the trails the cattle have worn into the land over the years, and if any guests spy our procession, they think we’re just other guests.
Campbell arranged the whole ride for the Monday before the wedding. Clem and Edna are holding down the distillery, but the guys and I caught up on work yesterday, so we could all take today off.
Ahead of me, Durban rides even with Lane. Behind him, Campbell chats with Jamison, and they chatter over their shoulders with Avery and Thea. Cruz and Elodie are next in line. Elodie isn’t the most comfortable on horseback, but Campbell planned a mellow route, and Cruz isn’t leaving her side .
As we leave a wide expanse, the crunching steps of another horse announce Iverson coming up beside me. He rides quietly for a few moments.
“Something going on?” he finally asks, keeping his voice low.
“Nope.” Nothing. Including Prescott’s stiff goodbye after mind-blowing sex and an amazing meal and the fact that she hasn’t returned my message from yesterday about saying goodbye to the wildflower bunch she rescued.
“Sure about that?”
My shoulders are knotted from how tense I am. I slammed my thumb loading Gravy in the horse trailer to come out here. If a horse could call me a dumbass, he did with his eyes. Then I called myself one after I unloaded him and tied him off.
I haven’t felt like talking all day, and apparently, it’s been noticed.
“Did you ask Prescott to come out with us today?” He looks around as if he missed her in our small group of people.
No, goddammit. I didn’t ask her to join in on prewedding festivities. I didn’t ask her to the actual wedding. I didn’t open up to her about the trip to see my mom. Coincidentally, after I shut down any further conversation on that topic, she hit me with the news she’s leaving on Friday.
Fucking Friday.
Iverson’s waiting for an answer.
“She wants to stay far away from weddings.” I know how she feels now.
Happy couples surround me. I wanted to be here, but I didn’t.
I wanted to go home, but I didn’t. I’d lie on the couch like I did last night and wonder if I should spend my free time hanging out with Prescott, or if I should leave my birthday as the last bittersweet memory of us together.
Only tonight, I can add the question of why she hasn’t replied yet.
A sour taste stains my tongue. Last memory. My last memory is her walking out my front door, giving me a sad smile and one more birthday kiss. I grind my teeth together.
“I thought she might be different,” he says. “You like to be with her.”
“Well, she’s leaving.” There. I said it out loud. The weight doesn’t lift from my chest. “She might land a gig with a cat supply company that’ll combine her business and influencer skills. It’s in Chicago.”
“Ah.”
The way he says it like that answers everything bristles hot across the back of my neck. “What?”
“You like her.”
“Of course I like her.”
“And you’re pissed she’s leaving.”
“I’m happy for her,” I say woodenly, and I am. This is what she wants. She gets to help animals without getting attached to one that’ll leave her brokenhearted again, and she might get a full-time job.
He lets out a low whistle. Gravy’s ears swivel. I give him a pat along his withers.
We reach a spot in the trail that winds through trees, and we have to ride single file.
When we come out the other side, the path widens.
We’re in one of the main winter pastures close to the barn and shops.
Durban pulls off to the side and circles around toward us.
Iverson returns to my right side and Durban falls in on my left. A throbbing starts behind my eyes .
“You find out who spilled his beer?” Durban asks Iverson.
I sigh. “Leave it alone.”
“Prescott’s leaving town,” Iverson answers.
I keep looking ahead, forcing myself to keep from clenching the reins. Everyone else is giving us a wide berth.
“Shit.” Durban’s gaze burns into the side of my face. “Why?”
I repeat the same information to him. Still no lightness in my chest.
Durban skims his fingers along the brim of his cowboy hat. “You don’t want her to go.”
“It’s an excellent opportunity. It’s what she wants.” I’ve repeated those phrases so much in my head they come out robotic.
“But you don’t want her to go,” he repeats.
I scowl. “It doesn’t matter. She’s a friend. I want what’s best for her.”
Both of my brothers chuckle, and my shoulders tense to my ears. Gravy snorts like he senses the thundercloud building over my head.
Iverson scoffs. “You two aren’t just friends. Why can’t you admit that?”
“We messed around. That was it.” The bitterness is back in my mouth.
Iverson scratches his chin. “Durban, you recall any of the girls Haven messed around with keeping a bunch of rescues at his house?”
My teeth are clenched so hard they should be cracking.
“Can’t say I do,” Durban says placidly. “What about taking any of the girls he messed around with fishing?”
Assholes, both of them .
“Also no.” Iverson leans over so he can see Durban on the other side of me. “Any girls that he let into his house to cook to her heart’s desire?”
“It’s what friends do,” I say tightly. Good thing they don’t know about her wearing nothing but an apron to greet me. And it’s only the tip of the iceberg of everything Prescott and I have done together.
Iverson’s gaze weighs on me, but I refuse to look at him. “Remember how we didn’t sell that portion of the property to Foster House so we wouldn’t lose access to that trail?”
“We don’t even go fishing with friends,” Durban says. “That’s our spot.”
“It’s not happening,” I snap. “Fuck off.”
We ride in silence, getting closer to the barn. If I didn’t think a scene would invite more incessant questions, I’d spur Gravy toward my truck and trailer. I’d skip the dinner Campbell and Durban have planned for all of us.
“Listen, Haven.” The gravity in Iverson’s voice hits me hard in the solar plexus. I’m not going to like what he has to say. “We’re allowed to be happy.”
Not this again.
“I am.” I was perfectly happy before I found a redhead with a nice ass in the ditch.
Durban grunts. “What we went through, it can fuck anyone up. But Iverson’s right. We’re allowed to be happy. We’re allowed to be loved.”
A chasm opens in my chest, black and yawning. Dad died, and Mom doesn’t love me. Prescott’s leaving. But I am loved. By my brothers. They’ve always watched out for me. And that’s gotta be good enough.
Prescott
I gather up empty glasses from a table in the corner and pick a napkin off the floor.
Bootleg is busy, and I’ve been running from table to table filling orders.
I’ll sleep well tonight. Then tomorrow, I’ll leave.
Toe Beans was thrilled to fit me into their schedule for a meeting on Monday, and I’m looking forward to it.
Liar .
I bite back a yawn and shove the napkin into a glass so I can grab another empty.
I haven’t slept well all week. Haven hasn’t texted, called, or stopped in since I left his message from last Sunday on read.
Maybe that’s not the why behind the radio silence.
He said he’d be busy this week with wedding plans.
When I close my eyes at night, the memories of him rise in my mind, and my lungs seize.
I can’t draw a breath, and everything just…
hurts. He taught me how to fly-fish, he reinvigorated my love for horseback riding, and he took in my strays—after he helped me rescue them.
He took pictures of me I would’ve never taken myself—or let anyone else take.
He taught me about whiskey and, dammit, about myself.
There are so many things he did from his big, generous heart, but then there’s the stuff he didn’t do.
He didn’t invite me to the wedding.
He didn’t tell me about his visit to his mom’s.
He hasn’t reached out all week.
Is he going to let me leave town without a goodbye?
The front door cracks open, spearing the dim seating area with light. An older woman enters, looking around. Her salt-and-pepper hair is pulled back into a low bun .
“Welcome to Bootleg,” I say, breezing past her. “I’ll be right with you.”
“No rush at all.” She chooses a spot at the bar.
I return behind the bar with an armful of empties. I dump them on the counter by the sink. Those can wait until I have a moment. Papa’s leaning against the wall by a table of older women in town for river fun, ever the charmer.
If I’d taken after Papa, life would be easier. I glance at him. Would it? He flits from group to group, never staying long. He lives alone, and… He’s Haven in twenty-five years. Isolated and taking care of everyone around him.
I have got to get that charming cowboy off my mind. I’m not on his. Turning to the new arrival, I force a smile. “What can I get you?”
“Original Summit. Neat.” She has her hands folded primly on the table. Nothing about her says dive bar, but she’s relaxed, like this type of environment is as familiar as breathing.
I grab the bottle from one of the higher shelves. “Nice choice. Quality bourbon.”
The corners of her eyes crinkle. “It most certainly is. What’s your favorite drink?”
“I like to try different cocktails. I don’t stick to just one.” I pour her bourbon and set it in front of her. “A friend of mine is—” My voice catches, and the pain in my chest amplifies. “He was trying to get me to like whiskey.”
“It can be an acquired taste.” She holds up her glass to inspect the liquid inside. “I didn’t like bourbon when I first tried it, but my husband came from a family of avid bourbon lovers.”
“How long did it take you to get a taste for it?”
She takes a sip, seeming to consider my question.
“ After all these years, I can say that I’ve acquired a taste, but I can’t say that I love it.
” She lifts the glass to the light again.
“I appreciate it. I respect the art and science that goes into it. The hard work. I enjoy it, and I’m grateful for it.
So much more so than I could’ve ever imagined. ”
“Makes sense.” That’s pretty deep for bourbon, but I’ve seen how much Haven, his brothers, and the Fosters pour into their jobs. I might not like parsnips, but if I grew them, I’d damn sure eat some and appreciate them all the more. “I’ll be right back.”
I quickly wash the dirty glasses and clean off two empty tables. When I return, I take a breather and prop my hands on the prep counter.
“It’s busy. Must be the wedding.” Technically, I’m still invited. If I went, I’d get the whole night with Haven. I’d watch him laugh and witness his enjoyment as his brother secures a happily ever after. Or he wouldn’t have time for me.
She sets her glass down. “Are you from Huckleberry Springs? If you don’t mind me asking.”
I shake my head. I don’t mind. “My dad runs the place, and he’s originally from here. I’m leaving tomorrow, actually.”
“Oh, exciting.”
It should be. I should want to hit the road and be in Chicago with plenty of time to get my shit together for the biggest pitch of my life. Yet I’ve left all the packing for when I wake up tomorrow, which won’t be early. I need to be rested if I’m going to stare at the open road for hours.
“Yeah. It is. I’m a, uh, a pet influencer. Well, I used to be, but I’m working with a rescue, and it might’ve opened another door.” I don’t know why, but I dig out my phone and show her the images of the little wildflower rescues I posted last night. They’re already starting to gain traction.
She might not be interested, but I hold my phone out like Look! Look at it. This is something I would’ve told Haven about, and he would’ve cheered me on.
She digs out a pair of readers from her purse and puts them on. “Oh my. How sweet are they?”
“They’re the best. I found them, but I couldn’t keep them. A…friend…did.” I tuck the phone away before the memories start hammering at my brain once again. “A cat company wants to partner with me.”
“You must be good at what you do.”
“I can be.” I was a good photographer, and I left that. Then I was a good pet influencer, and in a way, I left that. And now I’m leaving Huckleberry Springs and Haven.
There’s nothing here for me. There’s never been anything anywhere for me.
“Where are you from?” I ask to turn the conversation around. Another few tables empty, but I don’t jump to clear them. I don’t want to be lost in the thoughts banging around my head.
“Bourbon Canyon.”
I frown, mulling over the name. Why is it so familiar? My gaze lands on the bottle of Copper Summit bourbon I poured. Bourbon Canyon. Why is that?—
Haven. His brothers. They’ll have friends and anyone they consider family in town. A weird spark ignites in my chest. “Are you Mae?”
Interest lights her eyes. “Have we met before? I’m so sorry. I’m usually better with faces.”
Oh. The minuscule flame extinguishes. Haven hasn’t gushed about me to Mae? What did I expect? She’d walk in here, snap her fingers, and think, that’s right, there’s the tall redhead that Haven gushed about? “I know you, but you don’t know me. I got to know Haven while I was here.”
“Oh!” Delight spreads across her face. “I adore Haven. All the Hennessy brothers mean a lot to me. And now their families too.”
It’s still hard to breathe.
She gestures vaguely toward the door. “We’re staying out at Hawthorne Ranch, but I snuck away. I don’t get a chance to roam a lot on my own when I’m in town.” She winks. “I like to see Copper Summit on the shelf.”
She’s a bourbon distiller matriarch. Haven hasn’t seemed to mention me. Would he have introduced me, or is Mae kept at arm’s length too? The only woman he’s ever tried with is his mom, and she doesn’t know what she’s throwing away.
I have to speak before I cry. “I’m relieved Papa carries Copper Summit. He can be”—cheap—“limited in his selection.”
“I also enjoy a good Foster House spirit, but my appreciation for bourbon is unlimited.” Her kind smile blankets me in warmth, and she lifts her drink. “A salute to your new adventure.”
Tears stab the backs of my eyes hard and fast. I blink and rub at an eye like I have something in it. “Thank you.”
But the truth is, I don’t want to salute my new start. I don’t want a new beginning. I want what I’ve had for the last two months. I want a cowboy distiller to tell me that it’s me he wants. That he wants me and only me.
My mom taught me a long time ago to be enough for myself. Yet it doesn’t change that I still want to be that one person for someone else. It’s just my bad luck that person is Haven.