Wild and Wrangled

Chapter 20 Dusty

Chapter 20

Dusty

This year, my mom and I were celebrating Christmas at the Ryders’. She’d been doing this since my dad died six years ago, but I’d always been gone over the holidays. This was the first year that I was home for them.

I headed over there around three. Amos always gave ranch hands the day off, so he, Gus, and Wes worked in the morning, doing everything they could with a skeleton crew.

When I pulled in front of the Big House, I noticed Gus’s, Wes’s and Luke’s trucks. I also saw my mom’s old Toyota Highlander. But there was no sign of Cam’s sleek SUV.

I ignored the disappointment gnawing at my insides.

I grabbed the small bag of gifts from my backseat, and made my way down the shoveled path to the front door. I didn’t bother knocking—just pushed open the door, and let the warmth of the Big House envelop me.

It didn’t matter who you were, when you walked into the Big House, it felt like home—whether you’d never been here before or had crossed the threshold countless times. It always smelled like leather conditioner and pie crust. Today, it also smelled like a lot of good food.

Voices and laughter carried down the hallway. I slipped off my coat and hung it on one of the hooks near the door before making my way into the heart of the home.

“Take your coat off, Luke,” Emmy said. She and Brooks were sitting at the kitchen table. It looked like they were playing cards. “You’re going to get hot.”

“No,” Brooks said.

“Please,” Emmy countered, and batted her eyelashes.

“Fine,” Brooks grumbled. He unzipped the Carhartt coat he was wearing to reveal a cream-colored fisherman’s sweater, which looked exactly like the one Teddy had given to me to wear.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Gus said from the couch. He was wearing the same goddamn sweater.

Teddy—who was sitting on the floor in the living room doing a puzzle with Riley—and Emmy both burst into laughter. Ada joined in from where she was helping in the kitchen because Wes was wearing the same sweater, too.

“You all look so cute in your matching sweaters,” Teddy said on a laugh. She wiped a tear from her eye. “Including you, Dusty.” She waved at me. I should’ve known to be more suspicious of a gift from Teddy a few days before Christmas.

“Oh god, not you, too,” Gus said when he looked at me. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m changing,” Brooks said, standing from the table.

“No, you’re not,” Emmy said, pulling him back down. She laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I like it.” Brooks immediately relented.

“It’s a nice sweater,” Wes said with a shrug and slung an arm around Ada’s shoulders. “Good choice, sweetheart. Dusty,” he said, looking over at me, “good to see you.”

After that, there were a bunch of hellos and hugs exchanged. Amos was manning the stove, a kitchen towel draped over his shoulder. My mom and Hank were on the love seat opposite Gus. I walked into the living room and leaned down to give my mom a kiss on the cheek and give Hank a handshake.

“Hi, honey,” she said.

“Hey, Mom.” I sat on the floor next to Teddy and Riley. “What’s going on here?” I asked.

“It’s a puzzle,” Riley said.

“Yeah, dummy,” Teddy said. “Can’t you tell?”

“Thanks for clearing that up,” I said. “What’s the puzzle a picture of?”

“Rebel Blue,” Riley said. “My mom got it for Papa.”

“Amos, what soap is in the guest bathroom? It smells so good.” Cam’s voice came from behind me, and my spine went straight. “Oh my god. Is that the same exact sweater?” Everyone laughed again.

She was here.

I turned around. She was wearing a light gray sweater and black jeans. I let my eyes track down her body, even though I shouldn’t have. Her snowman socks took me by surprise, and I smiled.

“Oh,” she said. “Hi.”

“Hey.” I waved. Cam swallowed and gave me a sheepish wave. When she turned to go into the kitchen, Riley called after her.

“Mom, you were doing the puzzle with us!” I watched Cam take a deep breath, and when I turned back to Teddy, she was fighting a smile.

I must’ve taken Cam’s spot without knowing. After a few seconds of hesitation, she came and sat on the ground next to me. I hadn’t realized that almost everyone had stopped talking until Cam sat down and the chatter started again.

“How many pieces is this?” I asked her.

“Twenty-five hundred, I think,” she said.

“We’re sorting out the edges right now,” Riley told me. “Well, me and Teddy are sorting out the edges. You and my mom can find middle chunks and put them together.”

“Sir, yes sir,” I said with a salute and looked over at Cam, who was looking at her daughter with a hell of a lot of love.

I hoped I wasn’t looking at Cam the same way.

—

We sat down at the dinner table a few hours later. Amos and Hank were at each end of the table, then Riley, Gus, Teddy, Emmy, and Brooks on one side. Then, my mom next to Hank, Ada, Wes, Cam, and me. Ours were the last two seats left, and based on the wink Teddy gave me, it was on purpose. Jesus Christ.

I don’t know what I expected—it was basically impossible for anyone at this table to mind their own damn business. Not that I was complaining, but I worried Cam would feel smothered or uncomfortable—especially because everyone else at this table, except for Amos and Riley, was coupled up.

The spread of food was amazing. Amos didn’t know how to half-ass meals. There was prime rib, turkey, a few different types of potatoes, stuffing, multiple roasted vegetables, and homemade rolls with shiny golden tops.

There was chatter going on all around the table—except between Cam and me. Great.

“So,” I said, trying to crack the tension a little bit, “how are you liking the house?”

She didn’t look at me when she answered. “It’s great. Riley really likes it. I’m excited for when it gets warmer.”

I nodded. “You’ll have to take her up the trails when the snow melts,” I said. To anyone else, it would’ve been a throw-away thing to say—like talking about the weather. But to us, it mattered.

I had shown Cam every trail behind the Wilson house. When I watched a blush creep up her cheeks, I knew she was thinking about something we shared at the top of my favorite one.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’ve told her about a couple of them. She, um, wants to see the rock couch.”

I grinned. “That’s a good one.”

Cam gave me a small smile in return, and my brain short-circuited enough that I dropped a dollop of mashed potatoes and gravy on my denim-clad thigh.

“Goddammit,” I muttered, but Cam laughed, and suddenly I didn’t care about the potatoes.

Every time Cam and I saw each other now, there was always a moment of awkwardness, which would make me wonder if we’d changed too much, if too much time had passed. But then we’d get through it (or in this case, I’d make a fool of myself), and we’d find that familiar sense of comfort and ease.

This was nice, this new fragile friendship we’d been building. It’s not like we could avoid each other anymore (well, she couldn’t try to avoid me like she had been); we were sharing the same square plot of land. With every wave when I left my house in the morning, or quick passing chat in the yard, it felt like we were finally getting used to each other again. Our presence in each other’s lives was small, much smaller than it ever used to be. But it was constant, and that felt good, after so much distance for so many years.

In a lot of ways, I felt like we were as close as we could be to being friends again. But I didn’t know if we’d gotten there by ourselves or if we were just giving in to the fact that our lives had begun to overlap too much for us to ignore it. But it didn’t matter to me how we’d gotten there if the outcome was the same.

“Good thing you didn’t get any on your sweater,” Cam said. “Then you’d have to change.”

“And that would be a damn shame.” I shook my head. “Were you in on this?”

“Me?” Cam put her hand over her heart in faux shock. “Never.” That meant she knew I was coming, and she came anyway. That made me happy. I didn’t fight the smile that crept onto my face, and I didn’t try to look anywhere but at her. It felt like another step in the right direction, another hunk of ice thawing. “It looks good on you, though—the color.”

“I don’t know,” I said, trying to regulate my heartbeat. “I feel like the cream color kind of washes me out.”

Cam shook her head and shrugged. “No. It looks good.”

“Thanks,” I responded, and I hoped she couldn’t see my heart swell through this stupid sweater. “You, uh, you look nice, too.”

I watched the blush creep up Cam’s cheeks. I swear, that was one of my favorite colors. She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Amos scooting his chair back from the table and standing up.

“I just wanted to take a minute,” he said, “to thank all of you for spending your holiday here. When Stella and I got married, Aggie made us this table that you’re all sitting at.” I looked over at my mom, whose hands were clasped under her chin as she smiled at her old friend. “It hasn’t moved from this spot for nearly forty years. When we first saw it, both Stella and I thought that we’d never be able to fill it with people—it was so big, and at that time, it was just the two of us.”

“So, today, when I look around and see this full table”—Amos scrunched his nose a little bit—“it makes this old man’s heart feel damn close to bursting. Stella taught me that the family you choose is just as important—sometimes more—than the one you’re born with. Everyone here is part of that family that Stella and I dreamed about.” Amos lifted his pint glass, and the rest of us followed suit. “Cheers,” he said.

“Cheers,” everyone at the table said in unison and began clinking their glasses together. When I clinked my glass with Cam’s, her eyes didn’t leave mine until after she took a sip of her wine.

—

After dinner, everyone dispersed throughout the house—to take a nap or read or watch football. I gave Emmy, Teddy, and Ada their presents—small leather jewelry cases—then went to find Cam.

I found her at the back of the house—in a little alcove with big windows and a beautiful view of the winter wonderland outside. She was sitting on the couch and looking out the window. God, she was stunning. My footsteps faltered when I saw her. She looked up.

She smiled at me—the same small smile she gave me at the dinner table.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey. I, um, have something for you,” I said, holding up the large canvas bag I was carrying. “Can I?” I asked, motioning at the open spot on the love seat next to her.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” she said. “You didn’t have to get me anything. I’m not really a presents girl, you know.”

“I know,” I said as I sat down next to her. But I knew Cam actually loved presents. “And I didn’t get you anything…technically.”

Cam tilted her head and studied me, confused. “Close your eyes,” I said. Instead of doing what I said, she just narrowed them.

“Why?” she asked.

“Just do it.” I laughed. “And put your hands out.”

“You don’t have a snake or anything in there, do you?” she asked, eyeing the bag that I’d set between us.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I’ve been keeping a live animal in this canvas bag all day, just for a chance to scare you with it.”

“You never know,” she said.

“Close your eyes, Ash,” I said. Cam made a big show of being annoyed, letting out a huff, before she finally did what I asked. “Hands,” I said.

Cam put her hands out. I took a deep breath before setting her pile of gifts into them. “Open,” I said, and when Cam looked down, her mouth dropped open slightly.

“Oh my god,” she said as she set everything on her lap. There was a medium-size shoulder bag, a laptop sleeve, and a padfolio—all genuine soft leather. All made, start to finish, by me—cut, stained a deep, rich brown, and branded with a small monogram.

I watched her drag her fingers over the surface of everything, but she stayed silent. I started to feel embarrassed. Was this silly? Did I spend hours making things that she wouldn’t even like or use? Was it weird that I’d made her something personal instead of just buying her something generic and easy?

“These are…beautiful, Dusty,” she said as she examined the padfolio more closely. “But you said you didn’t buy me anything.”

“I didn’t,” I affirmed.

Cam looked at me. “Did you…did you make these?” I nodded, still feeling shy. Cam looked back down at her gifts. “Holy shit. These look like they cost a fortune.” She looked back up at me. “And believe me, I would know.”

“You like them?” I asked.

She was earnest when she said, “I love them, Dusty.” Her hands were still rubbing the leather and tracking the stitches. When she made it to the snap on the padfolio, she unclasped it and opened the cover. Her smile widened. “College-ruled paper?”

“You and I both know wide-ruled paper sucks ass.”

Cam laughed. “And this pen.” She pulled it out of its loop.

“My mom made that,” I said. It was a skinny wooden pen with a mountain scene carved into it. “I put a point five pen tip in there. I didn’t know if that was still your preference, so I have some other ones, and we can change it,” I said quickly.

“Point five is perfect,” she said. “Seriously, thank you. This is the most thoughtful gift.” She leaned forward—to hug me, I think, but then paused—like she wasn’t quite sure.

I leaned forward, too. “You started it,” I said. “Now it would just be weird if we didn’t.” Friends hugged, right? And friends got each other presents—after all, I made something for Emmy, Teddy, and Ada, too.

Cam rolled her eyes again, but it looked like she was trying not to smile. “Right,” she said, so I took the opportunity to fold her into my arms. She smelled so good—earthy and expensive. When I felt her relax against me, I felt like I was holding the world. God, she turned me into a cliché motherfucker.

“This is all amazing, Dusty. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I murmured. I tried not to make it obvious that I was smelling her hair like a creep.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything,” she said. I didn’t have the balls to tell her that this was enough. Cam wasn’t moving away, so I rubbed my hands up and down her back. She held me tighter. “I didn’t know you did this.”

“Leatherwork?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“I picked it up in Buenos Aires.”

I let my eyes flutter closed, memorizing this moment—thinking about how I had so many memories of her in my arms, but they were all from then. This was now.

And it was everything.

“You feel different,” she whispered.

“So do you,” I said. “Good different or bad different?”

“Good different, I think,” she said. “More substantial.”

“Are you saying I was scrawny, angel?” I felt her laugh against my chest—the vibrations made my entire body relax. I thought she hugged me tighter for a second, too.

Right then, we heard little footsteps scurrying down the hall. “Momma!” Riley’s voice carried to us, and Cam immediately pushed away from me.

I thought her sudden absence would make me feel empty, but I just felt normal. Maybe empty was my normal. It wasn’t the first time I’d wondered this.

I think that’s why I came home. When you’re constantly on the move, it’s hard to stay full. There’s not enough time to let everything settle. I liked that when I was younger—gathering people, places, and experiences—enjoying them while I was there and then moving on. I didn’t really offer anything a sense of permanence.

Over the past few years, though, it started to get to me. Everything—even the most wonderful things—felt kind of…hollow. But until last year, I just kept moving. It was like inertia or whatever. I had been in motion, so I was going to stay in motion. But when Gus called, I finally saw an opportunity to stay still, to come home.

I expected to start to feel restless at some point—to feel the desire to start moving again. And even though I felt it a few times, it was fleeting. Especially right now, when Cam was within reach—physically, at least.

“I can’t find Dusty,” Riley said as she appeared in the entry to the alcove. When she saw me, she grinned. “Oh. Never mind.”

“What’s up, Sunshine?” Cam asked, and Riley bounded toward us. When she jumped onto the couch, she situated herself right between Cam and me. Cam lovingly ran a hand over Riley’s hair.

“I want to give Dusty his present,” she whispered to Cam—not very quietly, though.

Cam smiled. “Good idea,” she whispered back.

Riley turned to me and held out a small, balled fist. I held my hand out, and she dropped a small loop of fabric into it.

“It’s a friendship bracelet,” Riley said. “I made it.” I looked down at the bracelet. It was different shades of blue all wrapped around each other. “My mom said blue is your favorite color.”

“Your mom is right,” I said, glancing at Cam, who looked embarrassed. “This is badass,” I said. Riley blushed. “Thank you so much for making it for me. Will you put it on?”

Riley nodded excitedly, like that was the best thing I could’ve possibly said. I gave the bracelet back to her and held out one of my hands.

“You have pretty drawings,” she said as she looked down my arm and hand.

“Thank you,” I said. “I like them, too.” Riley looped the bracelet around my wrist, but when it was time to tie the knot, she started having a little trouble.

She turned to Cam, who was watching the two of us intently. “Can you help me, Mom?” Cam nodded and took the two ends of the bracelet from Riley. Goosebumps rose on my skin when her fingers grazed it. I hoped she couldn’t see.

Cam tied the two ends of the bracelet into a tight, neat knot. This bracelet wasn’t going anywhere.

“You know,” I said to Riley, “you and I think alike.” I reached into my pocket.

“Why?” she asked, tilting her head—just like Cam had done earlier.

“Because I made you a bracelet, too.” I pulled the small leather bracelet out. It was the same base color as Cam’s gifts, but had lighter flowers carved into it to create a two-toned effect.

Riley’s eyes lit up, and her joy was contagious. She went to grab the bracelet out of my hand, but Cam stopped her with a “Riley,” and a quintessential mom look. “What do you say?”

Riley looked up at me. “Thank you,” she said excitedly. I could’ve sworn she was almost vibrating. It was cute as hell.

“You’re welcome,” I said. “Can I?” I gestured to her arm, and Riley held it out. The bracelet closure was a small ruby, Riley’s—and my—birthstone, that went through a loop.

“It’s beautiful, Dusty,” Cam said. When I looked up at her, she was looking at me the way I had been dreaming she would since I came home.

So are you, I thought.