Chapter 9
Lacey
“Beckett, just go.”
He sits down in the seat Carson has just vacated, quietly. His body, as huge as it is, is making me feel small.
I want to be alone to cry. I spent weeks with my mother before she passed. She never told me about any of this. My mind is spiraling with thoughts of why.
She should have at least warned me.
I don’t know why Beckett left when he did, but I know it broke my parents and brother.
Quietly, a thought eases its way to the front of my focus.
“Oh, I fucking get it now.” I snarl at the giant before me.
“You did not come to father’s funeral. We didn’t even hear from you, but you know you’d get something out of it this time, didn’t you?
That’s why you are here. That’s why you came to the funeral. To make yourself look honorable.”
My chest rises and falls with my angry words as I stand to leave.
“There is nothing honorable about this. That is a low blow on your part.” I stand to walk away from him, but before I realize what is going on, his seat shoots out from the table, his hand goes to my waist, and he pushes me up against the back wall.
One hand leaning on the side of my head, his biceps on full display.
My breathing is labored, “Beckett. Wh-what are you doing?”
His eyes darken, his nostrils flare. “Let’s get one thing straight here, Lace. What you are accusing me of is not true. So, get it out of your head.”
“Then why are you here?” I whisper, feeling defeated. I just want to know why.
“Contrary to popular belief from your brother, I happen to have thought a lot of your mother. Thought the same for your father, too. Only this time someone gave me the consideration of telling me she had passed and when her funeral was.”
He moves off the wall heatedly and grabs his envelope from the table before opening the door with so much force I swore it was going to break off its hinges. As fast as the wind blows, he is gone from the room.
Trying to catch my breath, I walk over to the table and grab my own envelope, fighting back tears, “Mom, you better have a good reason for this.”
Marcus pops his head through the door and asks, “Do you have any questions for me Lacey?”
I shake my head, trying to calm my mind. “No, thank you.”
“Just call us if you do . . . I will get with you by the end of next week to sign paperwork.”
I don’t know how I managed to put one foot in front of the other, but I am eventually back out to my truck; Beckett and Carson nowhere in sight.
I couldn’t be more thankful to be alone.
* * *
My truck tires hit the driveway of Scars Creek Ranch ten minutes later. I don’t recall how I even got here. You know when your mind is off in another realm, thinking itself to death, and you dissociate for a while? I guess that is what just happened to me.
The letter my mom left for me sits in the passenger seat, taunting me every moment I leave it sealed.
I want to know her reasoning for all of this, but I am skeptical.
What if once I read it, everything changes?
Life will no longer be the same. Not that it is anyways with my mother being gone.
Life as I knew it is no more, and I must learn to live with that.
Pulling up to the farmhouse, all the ranchers are busy with work. I wave at a few who walk by the yard leading horses toward the back pastures—possibly on their way to check some fences or cattle way out in the back part of the fields.
“Everything okay, Lace?” Briggs’ voice pulls me out of my thoughts as I step up on the porch. He sits on one of the rocking chairs, cutting an apple with his knife, just like daddy used to.
“I-I’m okay,” I stutter, fighting back tears.
He notices right away that I am not fine and sets his apple and knife down, standing and walking over to me. “What is it?”
I hold the envelope in my shaking hands, “She is making us share this place.”
He chuckles, “I thought you loved your brother. You two would make one hell of a team on this ranch.”
I shake my head, wiping a tear, “No. That’s not it. It’s not just Carson and me.”
His eyes search mine for an answer before they widen and his hands go to my shoulders, “No. She wouldn’t.”
I nod, “She did.”
And that’s all I could say before the tears burst out of my eyes. Briggs pulls me into him; the smell of sweat, horses, and hay engulfs me. It’s a smell that reminds me of my father, a smell I miss tremendously.
“I am so sorry, Lace.” He takes a deep breath, “Is he here?”
Briggs has been working with us for as long as I can remember.
My father brought him on as a young twenty-year-old and he worked his way up, gaining my father’s respect so much that he made him our foreman.
So, everything that has happened, he knows about apparently, and I seem to be the only one who has been left out of all the news.
I nod once our hug breaks and wipe my eyes. “Yes, he is staying in the cottage. But please don’t tell Carson. He doesn’t know yet.”
I see the tick of Briggs’ chin before he speaks. “Your secret is safe with me, Lace. Just don’t get me fired if he gets mad that I kept something from him.” He winks at me, making me giggle.
“I won’t,” I smile. “Thank you for being here, Briggs, this ranch wouldn’t run the way it does without you. Mama thought the world of you.”
He steps back to the chair, picking up his apple and knife.
Before heading off the porch he says, “Thought the world of your mama, too, Lace. Go inside and try to calm down. Mrs. Mabel brought over a peach cobbler earlier; it is in the fridge. She also brought a gallon of vanilla ice cream to go with it. I swear she is going to give us all diabetes.”
I chuckle, “Her love language is cooking.”
As Briggs goes back to the barn for his daily work, I head inside the house, making my way straight into the kitchen and grabbing the peach cobbler out of the fridge to warm up.
Pouring a large glass of sweet tea, I find a seat at the island bar and toss around the envelope in my hands for a few minutes before deciding to open it.
Okay mama, I am listening. Just please, don’t break my heart any more than you already have for leaving me.
Her handwriting in a blue ink pen makes me smile. The familiar writing I grew up seeing and loving makes the paper before me a little blurry.
Lacey,
Oh, my sweet girl. When you read this, I can only imagine the emotions you are feeling.
You, my angel girl, are the strongest person I know.
The way you put everything on hold to care for me while I have been sick—I want to thank you for that.
You are the daughter I always dreamed of and more; don’t let this grief of losing me consume you. You have so much life to live.
By opening this letter, I am assuming you have left the lawyer’s office and are questioning my sanity right about now. Please understand, I DO have a plan behind what I am sure you are doubting in this very moment.
When I found out I was sick, I made it a point to handle all of this the best way I knew your father wanted it before I couldn’t do for myself anymore.
I am going to ask you to do me a favor. And don’t you dare roll your eyes, thinking how morbid this is me asking you for a favor from beyond the grave.
Okay, maybe I just said that to get you to smile a little.
I am going to need you to be kind to Beckett and help him. Allow your brother to grieve and get his emotions out; but please do not let him hurt Beckett.
Your father’s wish for so long was to leave this ranch to all three of you—we just never got it put into the will before he died. So, I made the changes to honor his wishes. If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at me.
Beckett deserves this ranch as much as you and your brother. We had plans to adopt him at one point—but his mother would never give us the consent to. That I have never told anyone, so that is our little secret for now. He was all but adopted by us and we loved him like a son, too.
I need you to be strong, sweet girl. Your brother, like your father, has a temper, and he needs someone to be patient with him while he finds his way.
He and Beckett are a lot alike, and that makes for a fun ride for you.
You have broken some of the wildest horses I have ever laid eyes on; I think a couple cowboys will be an easy challenge.
I am so proud of you and thankful you are mine. You have a strength that I admire and that is why I feel confident that you will be able to handle all of this and the business of the ranch, too.
Sweet girl, your father always planned for you to run the business side one day. Your mind is so smart and equipped with everything he wished he could have done for Scars Creek. Trust your gut in all that you do.
My wild mustang girl, you have a spirit only a few people have in this world. Don’t bridle it. Maybe if anything, use a hackamore at times.
Continue to be wild and free, life goes by so fast, and I need you to really live. Don’t be afraid to take chances, make mistakes, and fail forward. But please, even in failure, or in this case, heartache, keep pushing forward.
If my calculations are right, you should be receiving your new filly soon. She will fix the scars on your heart from losing me. Have patience and when the time comes, you’ll realize how much being on this land and the animals heal you.
So let it. Stay out of bed during the day, remember to eat and drink, and put one foot in front of the other.
We all have scars, Lace. Saddle up anyways and ride through them.
I love you forever and always.
Neighs and Hugs,
Mama
Tears drip off my chin as I read the last couple lines of my mother’s note; We all have scars, Lace. Saddle up anyways and ride through them.
That’s what my father used to tell me when a horse would buck me off, or something bad would happen.
That’s why he named this ranch Scars Creek; it was a reminder that we all have scars, we all have wounds that bleed, but eventually they clot and heal, like the stream of a creek flowing; it is not stagnant, but instead, moves on to the next bend.
The chaos inside my head right now needed that reminder.
* * *
Between the food coma and influx of tears shed, I wake with a drool stain on the couch cushion and a half-ass blanket around the bottom part of my body. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I sigh; somehow after I read mama’s letter, I made it to the couch and passed out for nearly three hours.
No one has woken me up the whole time which tells me a few possibilities: Carson has killed Beckett and is currently burying the body, Beckett has killed Carson and is burying his body, or both of them are trying to stay the hell away from the ranch and each other for the foreseeable future.
The melody of my ringtone makes me jump to my feet and hurry to the bar where I left it. The instant rush of blood from lying down to suddenly being on my feet makes me a little lightheaded.
Lexie.
Shit. That filly was supposed to be delivered today.
“Hey girl!” I know I sound out of breath but honestly, I just woke up from a coma to sprinting off my couch to catch her call.
“Hey sister! You ready for your new addition? I am about to go down to the barn and tell Collin to load her up for me and head your way.”
“Yes. Thank you! When do you think you will arrive?”
“Give me about ten minutes to get her loaded and I can be there in about an hour.”
“Sounds good girl. Be safe.”
I take a deep breath, thankful to have a little bit of a new routine coming my way. Grabbing a soda from the fridge, I slip my boots on and decide I need to go down to the barn and make sure we have a stall ready for her.