Chapter 9
9
T ex groaned and adjusted his grip on the end of the huge beam. “Wait, wait, wait,” he said, panic in his voice. On the other end of the beam, Bryce stalled.
“Got it?” his son asked.
Tex couldn’t quite get the right hold, and he’d be going up the steps with the bulk of the weight of this thing on him. He found a good grip and said, “Yep. Let’s go.”
Bryce moved backward, calling, “I’m going up,” when he reached the bottom step.
“Got it.” Tex kept moving forward.
“I can’t hold it,” Bryce said. “All the weight’s on you, Dad.”
“I’ve got it,” Tex said, bracing the beam with his shoulder. “Keep goin’.” That had been his mantra this week. Keep going. Don’t stop. Keep going. Don’t stop.
After a pretty amazing lunch on Sunday, he hadn’t seen Abby for a couple of days. Nearly three before he went next door on Wednesday night with the blueprints for the basement remodel. He didn’t have to show them to her and get her to sign off on them, and they both knew it.
Still, he’d spread them across the coffee table in the living room while Wade and Cheryl made dinner in the kitchen, and he’d gone through how he was going to make the bedrooms bigger, take out one of the bathrooms and make a Jack-and-Jill between the two bigger rooms and then expand the living room.
Abby had seemed impressed, and Tex could admit he liked that. They’d visited for a while after he’d rolled up his blueprints, and then Wade had insisted he stay for dinner. Tex had made a show of texting Bryce to make sure his son was okay finding something to eat without him, which was a total farce.
His son could drive, and he could go to town and buy anything he wanted for dinner. He hadn’t, but Tex knew Bryce didn’t care at all that he wasn’t there. He’d talked to Jenny for a while, poured himself a bowl of cereal, and then started playing online video games with the friends he’d left back in Boise.
Tex had walked back into the farmhouse about the time darkness fell to cheering from Bryce’s room. The boy hadn’t missed his dad at all. In reality, it was probably a relief to Bryce not to have Tex hovering around him all the time.
“I’m throwing it right over the railing,” Bryce said, and the beam started moving faster than Tex could keep up.
“Whoa, whoa,” he said as if the pole was a horse and he could stop it. Something twinged in his back as he stumbled to keep up, and pain ripped down to his heel. “You’re going too fast.”
“Sorry,” Bryce said, panting. Tex reached the top of the steps and gave the beam one final heave and then joined Bryce on the small landing outside the back door to watch the beam tumble to the ground. They both breathed heavily, and Tex reached to press against his back.
“I gotta sit down. I ain’t as young as I once was.” He limped back into the house to get some painkillers, a bottle of water, and to find the couch.
Bryce followed him, saying, “Are you sure you’re all right, Dad? I’m sorry. I didn’t know you couldn’t keep up.”
Tex threw back the pills and collapsed onto the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I’m fine,” he said, knowing he probably wasn’t. At the very least, his back would bother him the rest of the day. And in the morning? He’d have to put pills and a glass of water on the nightstand so he could take them before he got out of bed.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, the grumbling noise of a tractor outside hopefully belonging to someone down the street.
“They’re here, Dad,” Bryce said, checking through the blinds if the rattling told Tex anything. He didn’t move or crack open his eyes.
“That’s it for us today,” he said, still trying to get a full breath.
“Really?” Bryce asked. “It’s barely ten-thirty, and the mowers just arrived.”
Tex didn’t want Bryce to feel worse than he already did, so he groaned as he sat up. “Help your old man off the couch then. I guess we can mow a few fields down.” He groaned again as Bryce pulled him to his feet, and Tex did a back bend to try to get the pinch there to go away.
It didn’t, but he had faith that the pills would kick in quickly. He went to the front door and opened it, leading the way out onto the completely safe and refinished porch. He and Bryce had started with some of the most noticeable and most unsafe features of the farmhouse, so they could both feel comfortable living there.
He’d hired someone to come put on new roof shingles, as well as to clean the exterior and then paint it. They were booked until the end of July, so he and Bryce had to live with the dirty beige for another six weeks.
They’d torn out almost all of the flooring in the house, and new carpet and a fabricated tile that looked like hard wood had been laid last week. He hadn’t done it, but he’d paid for it. The money flew out of Tex’s bank account faster than he even knew, but when he saw the progress on the house and ranch, he could only smile.
“Jimmer,” he called, smiling as he lifted his hand in a wave. His back didn’t like that, and Tex quickly dropped his arm. The man couldn’t hear him, and he started to power down the huge eighteen-wheeler he’d used to bring the mowers out.
He opened the door and got down from the cab, saying, “Tex.”
“Good morning.” Tex chuckled as he approached and then shook Jimmer’s hand. “Thank you for getting these to us so fast.” He surveyed the machines on the flatbed, wondering if he should be trusted behind the wheel of one of these.
“You got the fences out?”
“Most of ‘em,” Tex said. That had been Monday and Tuesday’s job, and his back had already started to turn fragile from that work. “We won’t mow over any fences, I promise.”
“All right,” Jimmer said, moving the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other. “Sue-Ann here’ll teach ya how to drive these.”
Bryce looked like a kid in a candy store on Christmas Day, and Tex paid extra-close attention to Sue-Ann as she went over the type of gas the machines needed, how fast to drive them, and what to do to troubleshoot the most common things that made them stall.
“Got that?” she asked, her voice as weathered and rough as Jimmer’s.
“Yes, ma’am,” Tex said, taking the manual from her and flipping it open. “We got it.”
“Call us if you need anything,” she said, though she looked like one of those fluffy cats with the grumpy faces. She didn’t smile. Her eyebrows were actually drawn on in the down position. She tipped her ballcap at Bryce and walked back to the truck.
Jimmer fired it up again, and the engine on that eighteen-wheeler could’ve deafened a man if he stood too close. The engine brakes hissed as Jimmer released them, and Tex looked up from the manual in time to see Bryce leaping onto the seat of the closest mower.
“Son,” he said, plenty of warning in his voice. “These aren’t toys.”
“I know, Dad,” he said. “Mom made me mow the lawn a ton in Boise. I can do this. You go lay down again.”
Tex didn’t think that was a bad idea, and he looked out toward the fields—which he couldn’t see because the house stood in the way—and back to Bryce. “Nah. I’ll come out with you.”
Bryce frowned at him. “Dad, I’m not going to get in trouble.”
“I know,” he said. “Go. I’ll walk out my back.”
Bryce started up the mower, and it too sent an enormously loud growl into the air.
“You’re supposed to wear auditory protection!” someone yelled, and Tex turned to find Abby striding toward them.
He waved his hands at Bryce, finally making sense of her words. The mower powered down, and Bryce asked, “What?”
“Get the headphones, son,” he said. “Sue-Ann said to wear those.”
“Right.” Bryce jumped down and grabbed them from the bag sitting on the seat of the second mower. Tex couldn’t think straight as Abby stepped to his side. She wore jeans, her cowgirl boots and hat, and a purple plaid shirt that had plenty of dirt on it. She smelled like straw and horses and freshly mown grass, and Tex wanted to sneak away with her and kiss her until he couldn’t breathe again.
Bryce whooped as he got the mower moving, and he dang near clipped the corner of the house as he went by. “That boy,” Tex said, shaking his head as if his son had somehow hoodwinked him into getting these huge pasture mowers.
He touched Abby’s hand, and she flinched away from him. The rejection sang through Tex, and he didn’t know how to make it stop stinging. Abby looked at him as if she’d just realized he was there. “Sorry,” she said.
“Haven’t seen you in a few days,” he said, putting a smile on his face to cover the sting. “You’re not working today?”
“Not at the library,” she said. “I have to drive the Bookmobile later tonight.”
“Right,” he said. “To Dog Valley.”
She’d trained her eyes back on the corner of the house where Bryce had gone. “Yeah.”
Without her hand to hold, Tex didn’t know what to do with his. He folded the manual in half and walked over to the second mower. “Have you ever used one of these?”
“No,” she said, plenty of disdain in her voice.
He turned back to her, surprised. He wanted her to do more talking, so he waited. “Go on,” he prompted when she simply glared at the house and folded her arms. “Say what you want to say.”
“I don’t want to say anything.” She switched her glare to him, and it definitely went down a few notches. The buzzing of Bryce’s mower changed, and Tex tilted his head.
“Walk out there with me?” He started going toward the house without waiting for her to come with him.
She caught up to him quickly, saying, “Those things aren’t good for the land, you know.”
There it was. She’d always had opinions, and he didn’t mind her voicing them. “Why not?”
“They cut too close,” she said. “You’ll end up killing everything.”
“We want to kill everything,” Tex said.
“You’re joking.” Her voice came out like a scoff, full of air and disbelief.
“No.” He looked at her, frowning. “Abby, there’s nothing to save out here. The fields are weeds. We want it all gone, so we can seed it with what we need for actual livestock.”
“What are you getting?” she demanded, her long legs keeping up with him easily.
He went around the back corner of the house and found Bryce mowing along through the longer prairie grasses and weeds. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world, and the chopped foliage went in the huge gray bag hanging off the back of the mower.
“Horses,” he said, slowing his step. “A dairy cow or two. Chickens. It’s too late to plant hay, so we’re going to spend the summer getting things cleaned up and getting a few animals to take care of, and then we’ll plant next year.”
“You’re going to be here next year?”
Tex rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to sound so shocked about it.”
“I…you said at least a year. Bryce is going to graduate. Are you saying he won’t leave you to run this ranch all by yourself?”
“I don’t know what he’ll do.” Tex and Bryce had already talked about college, of course. Bryce wasn’t that interested, the same way Tex hadn’t been. It had been real important to his parents that he go to college, so Tex had gone through the application process to make them happy. He had decent grades, and he’d gotten in to the three places he’d applied. He’d chosen Boise State, because they’d given him the most scholarship money.
He and Bryce had also been talking about doing an album together. Tex hadn’t heard from Otis, Luke, or Trace about the album they still owed King Country, and it suddenly needled his mind with the force of hail striking the earth.
They played their guitars together in the evenings, and Tex loved that. Bryce worked on music; Tex wrote lyrics. They worked on the house in the morning, in the cooler summer hours, took a break in the afternoon, and then did their music at night.
It was a slow, easy life, and Tex had really enjoyed his time in Coral Canyon so far. His phone rang just as Abby said something. He didn’t hear her, and chose to look at his phone instead of her.
“Oh, it’s Ames,” he said, holding up his phone for her to see. “I asked him about a dog.”
“Of course you did,” she said, as if Tex getting a dog was a crime akin to driving drunk.
“What is with you?” he asked, his irritation with her sparking. He swiped on the call and turned his back to her. “Ames, howdy.”
“Howdy yourself,” Ames said, plenty of growl in his voice. “Well, I have to say, Tex, that you must have someone in heaven lookin’ out for you.”
Tex chuckled and took a few steps away from the glare Abby cut through the back of his skull. “Why’s that?”
“Francesca didn’t pass her police exam,” he said with a sigh. “I can’t move her through the rest of the program. She won’t get to be a police dog.”
Tex heard the severe disappointment in Ames’s voice, and his heart tore a little. “I’m sorry, Ames.”
“You wanted a dog who failed my program, and well, now I’ve got one.”
Tex’s heart grew wings and flew right out of his chest. “You’re kidding.”
“Like I said, someone up there is watchin’ out for you.”
Tex laughed, suddenly feeling like dancing. “Well, that’s great. When can I pick her up?”
“I’ll bring her to you,” Ames said. “How about tomorrow night? Doable?”
“Definitely,” Tex said. “Bryce and I will just be home.”
“Tell me where you’re at, and I’ll bring her by after dinner.”
Tex rattled off his address, and Ames said he’d be there tomorrow. He hung up, joy mingling with shock as it coursed through him. He turned back to Abby, his smile permanently stuck to his face now. “Guess what?”
“You’re getting a dog,” she said dryly.
His euphoria faded quickly in the face of her salty attitude. “Why do you care?”
“I have to live next door to that dog,” she said. “And they aren’t quiet.”
“Oh, like your cats are perfect,” he said. “One of them was prowling around my garbage can the other night.”
“Bite your tongue,” Abby said, as if a cat eating out of the garbage can was the scandal of the century.
“I have a picture and everything,” he said, already swiping on his phone. “It was Atticus, and.” He paused as he tried to find the picture. Apparently he couldn’t talk and see and swipe at the same time. He found it and showed it to her triumphantly.
She looked at it and glared at him. “And what?”
“And he was sleeping on my deck supplies yesterday afternoon.”
“That is not true,” she said.
“Oh, it’s true,” he said.
“Do you have a picture?”
“No.”
“Then it didn’t happen.” She folded her arms and turned back to stare down Bryce. He didn’t seem as attuned to Abby as Tex was, or else he was too far away for her glare to really hit him with the full force.
“You think they stay inside all day,” he said. “But they don’t. They’re all over your farm and my ranch.”
“They’re not prisoners,” she said.
“You’re never home,” he said. “You won’t even be here if my dog barks. Besides.” He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to argue. “She’s a police dog, and they don’t bark just because they feel like it. So if she’s barking, you better put on your slippers and come see if I’ve had a heart attack.”
She drew in a big breath, her eyes sparking with something dangerous. All at once, she exhaled, and the sparks turned into a glint. She smiled, and her eyes danced. “You’re good, Tex,” she said. “I’ll give you that.”
He grinned too, and this time when he touched her hand with his, she slid her fingers between his. They stood in the mid-morning sunshine and watched Bryce mow weeds to his heart’s content.
Tex wanted to say something to Abby, but he wasn’t sure what. “It’s Saturday,” he finally came up with. “After you get done with the Bookmobile, do you want to…I don’t know. Do something?”
“Like what?” she asked.
He looked at her, so many hormones and synapses firing through his body. “Stay in? Go out? Come over? I could come over to your place? Watch a movie? Here? At the theater? Go to those concerts in the park? Get a sandwich and hike up to the waterfall?”
She started giggling and squeezed his hand. “All right, enough.”
“There’s literally a thousand things to do,” he teased. “Or not do. I don’t care. I just want to see you tonight.”
The moment sobered, and Abby searched his face. “You do?”
“Uh, yeah,” he said, grinning down at her. “Don’t tell me I haven’t been ultra-obvious, because I have been. Bryce tells me how embarrassing I am every single day.”
“How would he know?”
“He checks my phone,” Tex said simply. “Who do you think came up with the winning question to get you to let me in on Wednesday night?”
Abby smiled then too, and she looked back out to Bryce. “And he’s okay with us…going out?”
“Yeah, I think so.” He focused on Abby again and toed the ground. “What about you? Are you okay with us going out?” He watched her for her reaction, and Abby blinked a couple of times, clearly surprised by his question. “I’m really sorry I left you here twenty years ago.”
“Tex,” she said.
“No, I need to say it.”
She gestured with her free hand. “Then say it.”
“I left for college, and I didn’t call or write or anything. You must’ve been so…mad. Hurt.” Tex shook his head. “I was stupid, and young, and I didn’t even think about it. I’m really sorry that I hurt you.”
Abby leaned into his bicep and curled her fingers around his forearm. “Thank you, Tex.”
Bryce turned the mower toward them, barreling across the land, bumping up and down like a maniac, all with a smile on his face.
“He’s going to hit us,” Tex said, and he started to pull Abby to the right. Bryce came to a stop several yards away and yelled something.
“He wants to know where he should empty the bag,” Abby said, tipping up and yelling into Tex’s ear too.
“How did you get that?”
She shrugged and smiled, and Tex had always known that women could understand other humans better than men. Still, Abby seemed like a super-woman, and he hoped he could fix up this ranch to her liking, while fixing up himself to be worthy of her attention too.
He wanted someone to spend his life with, so no matter what Bryce decided to do, Tex’s only option for companionship wasn’t Mav and his wife.
Tex hadn’t told anyone yet—he hadn’t even admitted it to himself—but he wanted this house and this ranch to be utterly perfect so Abby would be happy here…with him.