Chapter Fifteen
Axle
The Wyoming sun is already beating down on us by midmorning.
I wipe my forearm across my forehead and lean against a cedar fence post as Royce extends another section of wire fencing along the pasture line.
The open field stretches for acres in every direction, with green grass swaying in the breeze beneath a sky so blue that I’d doubt it was real if I wasn’t looking up at it with my own eyes.
A few hundred yards away, the new bison herd grazes behind temporary containment fencing. Massive animals. Dark and shaggy and mean-looking as hell.
Dad and Micah drive another post while Grandpa Earl supervises from the shade of the side-by-side, offering advice nobody asked for and somehow everyone still follows.
“Little to the left,” Grandpa calls.
Dad sighs. “It’s in the ground already, Earl.”
“Then pull it back out and move it left.”
Royce snorts.
Cabe laughs.
I shake my head.
Some things never change.
We work for another fifteen minutes before Cabe hooks his hammer through his belt loop and looks toward me and Royce.
“How’s the teaching going?”
Royce answers quickly, “Fantastic.”
Cabe raises an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Why’d you say it like that?”
Cabe shrugs as he moves away from the fence line so Micah can drive the tractor forward. He guides the auger vertically and signals for Micah to lower the drill for the next post hole.
“I just never figured you two for teachers.”
“Why the hell not?” Royce asks.
“Because you guys have the patience of a gnat.”
“Hey,” I say as I swat his hat off his head. “I taught you how to ride, didn’t I?”
Cabe bends to retrieve it, dusts it off, and places it back on his head. “Yeah, and I barely survived the experience.”
“Well, a teacher can only do so much when the student’s a dipshit.”
The truth is, Cabe could ride before he could walk. The boy was a natural.
“And what about the clinic? How’s Jovie doing?” he asks, ignoring my comment.
“Good, I think. Luckily, I haven’t had to see her in action too much,” Royce replies.
“Half of the students have a crush on her. I heard some of the ropers talking about how much they liked her nutrition class. And when I asked them what it was about, not one of the little horny bastards could tell me what she said.”
Cabe laughs.
“You remember what it was like at that age. The only thing more exciting at the rodeo than riding in your event was chasing the barrel racers around the arena afterward,” I say.
“That age? Hell, I still get excited, chasing the barrel dancers,” Royce says, wagging his brows.
Dad chuckles as he grabs a post off the back of the tractor. I shovel about five inches of gravel into the newly dug hole, and he places it inside before pulling the torpedo level out of his back pocket.
While he and Cabe secure the post with some scrap two-by-fours, I mix another bag of rapid-set concrete in the wheelbarrow.
“This one good, Earl?” Dad bellows.
Grandpa gives him a thumbs-up, and I carefully pour the concrete into the hole.
Cabe looks toward me. “What do you think?”
“About?”
“Jovie.”
I shrug. “She’s doing well, I guess.”
“That’s it? I figured you would have more of an opinion.”
That sets off alarm bells in my head.
“Why the fuck would I have an opinion on her?” It comes out a little harsher than I intended.
Cabe looks confused. “Um, I thought you were supposed to be spying on her for Dr. Chaz?”
Shit.
I remove the glove from my right hand and run it over my face. “Right. Guess I’ve been too busy to play super sleuth. I’m sure she’s doing a fine job. Like Royce said, the students seem to like her, and she’s getting the hang of reeling them in during class. Even coaxed some of them into the gym.”
A smile touches his face. “Glad to hear it.”
I nod and tug the glove back on before bending down to grab the roll of barbed wire.
The conversation should end there.
Instead, before I can talk myself out of it, I hear myself ask, “So, what’s the status of you two anyway?”
Cabe pulls the staple gun from his belt as Royce holds the wire in place. “Me and Jovie?”
“Yeah,” Royce says. “You two been sneaking off into the barn together at night and bumping uglies?”
Grandpa almost chokes on his water as Dad chuckles into his canteen.
Cabe groans.
“You’re a real douchebag,” I say, shoulder-checking him hard.
“Hey, I was just asking the question we all really want to know the answer to.”
“That’s not what I was asking.”
Cabe studies me. “What about us?”
My eyes go to him. “Are you two together or not together?”
His eyes narrow slightly. “Why do you want to know?”
I shrug. “Just interested in my baby brother’s life.”
Cabe keeps staring at me for a moment.
Long enough that I wonder if he’s somehow seeing through me.
Then he looks away.
Honestly, I don’t know what answer I’m hoping for.
He sighs. “I’m not really sure where we stand.”
I keep my expression neutral. “How so?”
He scratches the back of his neck. “You know we broke up after high school.”
“Yep. Shocked us all,” Royce says. “The golden couple. The pair everyone assumed would get married someday. Calling it quits.”
“Yeah, whose idea was that?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Mutual.” Then he pauses. “Mostly.”
Royce smirks and cuts his eyes to me. “So, not so mutual.”
Cabe ignores him. “We were trying to protect our friendship.”
I glance toward him. “What does that mean?”
“It means we figured if we tried long distance and everything blew up, we’d end up hating each other.”
I nod slowly.
“And neither of us wanted that.” He stares out across the pasture. “We’ve known each other our entire lives, and we didn’t want to risk losing each other completely.”
Makes sense.
Even to me.
Cabe continues, “I always figured we’d end up back together.”
I glance over at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He laughs softly. “I thought she’d go to Laramie for a few years, graduate, come home, and we’d figure it out.”
“Have you?”
“No.”
His smile turns bittersweet. “She decided to go to Colorado for grad school.”
“Even farther away,” I say.
“Way farther.”
The wind rattles through the grass.
I choose my next words carefully. “And you, what, grew apart?”
Cabe shakes his head. “No.”
I blink.
“The opposite, actually.” He grabs a bottle of water from the cooler and leans against the back of the tractor. “We’ve gotten closer.”
I frown. “Really? How?”
“We talk every day.”
Every day.
Something twists unpleasantly inside me.
What the fuck is that about?
“We tell each other everything. The good stuff. The bad stuff.”
Royce whistles. “That’s kind of disgustingly sweet, brother.”
Cabe flips him off.
Royce beams.
I stare down at the fencing pliers in my hand.
Every day.
Everything.
That sounds a lot more intimate than broken up.
“So, what are you?” I ask.
Cabe thinks about it.
Finally, he says, “We are in limbo. Kind of.”
“Kind of?”
He laughs. “That’s about as good of a definition as I’ve got.”
He tosses the empty bottle onto the tractor, and we go back to work for a minute.
The metallic clang of wire fills the silence.
Then Cabe speaks again. “It’s gotten more complicated lately. Because of the rodeo thing.”
“The rodeo thing?”
“Yeah.” His shoulders rise and fall. “I thought she’d finally be back next year. But now she wants to follow the circuit.”
I nod. “She pretty serious about it?” I ask.
Cabe smiles proudly. “Very serious.”
He has both a look of disappointment and a look of pride.
“It’s what she wants,” he says. “I like that she’s not scared to chase her dream.”
“Yeah.”
“And she deserves it, but it means she could be gone indefinitely.”
I pull another length of wire, and he drives another staple.
The metal rings against wood.
“And?”
Cabe exhales slowly. “But my life is here. Working this land. Wildhaven Storm is my home.”
And that’s the truth of rodeo. It pulls you in different directions. Everywhere and nowhere is home.
The thought settles heavily in my stomach.
I glance toward him. “And you don’t think you can wait for her?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
Cabe doesn’t answer immediately.
Finally, he says, “I don’t know.”
That’s probably the most honest answer he could give.
“I don’t know if I can stay in limbo forever.”
I nod slowly.
Royce claps him on the back. “That’s fair. Maybe you two need to test the waters with someone new.”
Cabe shrugs. “I’ve dated. She has too.”
I try not to react to that.
“And somehow,” he continues, “we always end up back at the same crossroads.”
“What’s that?”
He laughs softly. “The someday crossroads.”
Dad looks over. “Ah, someday. That’s where limbo lives.”
Cabe nods. “Yep. Someday, we’ll figure it out.”
The words hang there.
“As much as I love her,” he says quietly, “and as much as I think she loves me …” He trails off. Then finishes, “I’m not sure that’s enough for either of us.”
Nobody jokes this time.
The only sound is the wind moving through the grass.
Cabe looks toward the bison herd.
“No?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “If it was enough”—he pauses—“wouldn’t we be moving toward each other instead of farther apart?”
The question lands hard.
Because I don’t have an answer or any sage brotherly advice.
Hell, I’ve never had to ask myself anything close. I’ve spent my whole life avoiding relationships. Avoiding those same complications, anything that looked remotely permanent.
So, what the hell do I know?
I snort. “I’ve got no fucking clue. I’ve never moved in any direction with a woman.”
That earns a laugh from everyone.
Royce points at me. “Other than for a night.”
Cabe shakes his head, but he’s smiling now. “The one thing I do know …”
We all look toward him.
He’s looking off into the horizon. Probably wishing the mountains had all the answers.
“I’m her biggest fan.”
Something about the certainty in his voice makes my chest tighten.
“I want her to get everything she wants out of life. No matter where that takes her.”
The pasture goes quiet again.
“And no matter what happens between us,” he says, “she’ll always be important to me.”
With that, we go back to work—hammering posts, stretching wire, building fences.
And while everyone else focuses on the job, my mind keeps drifting somewhere it probably shouldn’t.
To a tiny white bikini.
Tanned legs.
A moonlit deck.
Sleep-mussed blonde hair.
Bare feet.
A worn-out T-shirt.
And a woman who’s standing in limbo with my brother.