Chapter 46 Heston
HESTON
Gage, Warren, and Tripp are right behind me when I pull my truck in near the stables. If it weren’t for the sea of vehicles and people surrounding what’s left of the bunkhouse, we could have parked closer.
My brows furrow as I step out and slam the driver’s side door. Lucky leaps out of the bed and darts straight into the bustling crowd.
“Did you call all these people?” I ask as Gage comes up beside me.
“No,” he answers in disbelief. He takes his hat off as we scan the scene in front of us. “Figured we could tackle the mess on our own. I didn’t expect . . . this.”
Warren squints. “Is that my mom and dad?”
Mr. and Mrs. Farrow wave from the far end of the rubble.
They’re both wearing work gloves and smiling, despite the incident that’s brought them here.
A shot of warmth spreads in my chest when I see several other members of the community pitching in alongside them—Sofia from the café, Savannah’s coworkers from the law firm, and even Miss Lemon from the hardware store.
Keith, one of our friends who owns land down the road, walks next to his wife, Amy. He nods in our direction while carrying a pack of water bottles. Dr. Cates is pulling two shovels from the bed of his truck.
There’s movement everywhere.
“Holy shit,” Tripp whispers.
Warren stands on the other side of him with his hands on his hips, and all four of us stare across the ranch in disbelief.
As long as we’ve lived here, we’ve always had a bit of a reputation around Westridge. “Those bunkhouse boys,” people would say with a slight shake of their heads.
But deep down, I think they all knew that we would never hesitate to help any one of them if they needed it. We’re a loyal bunch, and that extends beyond our close circle to all of the people in our little West Texas town.
My eyes land on Hattie with Lucky at her side, directing a group of guys I recognize from Warren’s equipment dealership in town. A lump catches in my throat, and it refuses to budge even after a hard swallow.
I’m not an outwardly emotional guy. But when I see Rafe behind her, breaking a sweat over a pile of charred lumber, the bridge of my nose stings.
Mesa passes Hattie and lifts her hand for a high-five.
The looks on their faces are nothing but satisfied, and I realize it must have been the girls who set this all up.
It makes sense now why they insisted on coming over here to put together a cleanup plan while the guys stayed back and cleaned up the kitchen at the house.
“I fucking love my wife,” Gage says.
I follow his line of sight and huff out a laugh, seeing Blythe and Savannah each pushing a wheelbarrow.
This place has felt dark and broken for the past few days. Yet somehow, it’s still more alive than it’s ever been. The girls would never miss an opportunity like this to pour their hearts into something worth fixing. My three best friends and I are the clearest example of that.
Gravel crunching beneath slow-moving tires pulls my attention to the side. My jaw hardens as Justin parks his cop car and walks toward us with his head down, and holds his phone out for Gage when he finally reaches us.
“Got him,” he says, holding his phone out toward Gage. “Matched the plates from your surveillance footage, and they were able to detain him early this morning before he crossed the border.”
“Marcus?” Warren asks.
Justin nods. “He hasn’t posted bail yet, so I doubt he will. I’ll try to keep you in the loop, but with the previous charges I saw on his file, I’m pretty confident he’s not getting off clean with this one. He’ll be enjoying a cinder block bedroom and cold community showers for a while.”
I see red, just thinking about how much I’d like to deck that motherfucker. He’s lucky that Hattie wasn’t hurt, or I wouldn’t have hesitated to track him down myself.
“Thank you,” Gage says, handing the phone back.
Justin clears his throat and eyes us all with a somber look. “I don’t know what to say about your ranch, boys. Shitty deal.”
“Yeah,” Gage agrees with a deep sigh. “It’s been a hard forty-eight hours. Appreciate you looking into Marcus and giving us the update.”
“Any time,” Justin says. “I’m here to help with whatever you need, too. Savannah called up to the station yesterday to let us know about the cleanup, and I think several more guys are coming over to pitch in when their shift is over this afternoon.”
“Did she call the whole damn town?” Warren asks, chuckling.
“Pretty much,” Justin answers. “From what I hear, most of Westridge got a call from at least one of the girls. I don’t know how y’all managed to land them, honestly. You’re all either filthy rich or packing.”
Tripp smirks. “Maybe we’re both.”
Justin laughs while pocketing his phone. I’m just now noticing that he isn’t in his uniform, and he turns to walk toward the commotion with a wave. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can help with.”
“Will do,” Gage says. “Thanks, man.”
Our emotions are still a little strung out, so rather than sticking to the sidelines, the four of us jump in to get to work.
The first thing I do is head for my safe.
I already know it’s fireproof, so I don’t check the contents before calling Warren over with the forklift to remove it from the pile of ash.
It’s a hassle to move, so it’ll have to go in the barn for now until I can take it to a better spot.
Unlike my safe, the jukebox is half-melted and entirely unsalvageable. Gage couldn’t even make eye contact with it.
Surprisingly, I’m not too dejected by the loss of the rest of my things. There are perks to being a simple guy, I guess. Clothes, shoes, and hats can always be replaced. I think Tripp shed a tear over the box of baseball cards he’d left behind in his old closet, though.
Four hours later, I haven’t been able to pull Hattie aside. We locked eyes several times, but the amount of clean-up was enough to keep us busy and moving. Thankfully, we were able to knock out the entire site with so many people from town showing up to help.
The last person is driving toward the gate down the lane when she finally slips her hand through mine. Everyone is exhausted and in desperate need of a shower, so I shoot them all a quick nod and lead her to my truck. Granger is leaning against the tailgate with his arms crossed as we approach it.
There’s gauze wrapped around his forearm and another strip peeking out from the collar of his shirt. I should probably give him another lecture for running back into the fire, but he’s upright and breathing, so I’ll leave it for another day.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he says to Hattie. “I already told you I’m fine. And chicks dig scars, anyway.”
Hattie rushes toward him for a hug, and he makes eye contact with me over her shoulder. One day, I’ll figure out how to repay him for saving her life.
“Are you staying at Gage and Blythe’s house?” Hattie asks, pulling away to hold him at arm’s length. “Do you need anything?”
“Yeah, I’m going to take their guest room.” He looks down at his ragged jeans and chuckles. “I should probably go buy some clothes tomorrow.”
“You might be close to Tripp’s size,” she points out, sizing him up. “I’ll see what I can find at Mesa’s house for you.”
“It’s alright,” he reassures her. “Don’t worry about me, okay?”
She’s giving him a raised eyebrow, and I try to tell him with only a look that he’s fighting a losing battle. He’s conceding with an eye roll as I walk to the passenger door and pull out some cash that I keep in the glove box.
I always wondered why my dad pounded it into my head to never be short on cash. Now I think I understand.
Hattie gives Granger one final hug before getting in the truck. I hold the wad of bills toward him, and he shakes his head, as I expected him to. The only way I know to force him to take it is to lift his wrist and slap it into his hand.
“You look like shit, Kid,” I say, making him laugh. “Buy some clothes. Practice in a few days.”
With a slow nod, he pockets the cash. “I can drop out of the rodeo coming up to stick around and help.”
I shake my head while rounding the driver’s side of the truck. “No. We’re going.”
“We?” he asks, lifting his eyebrows.
Without another word, I nod and get into the truck. It’s hard to miss his smile in the rearview mirror. Hattie clicks her seatbelt and kicks off her shoes. If her feet feel anything like mine do right now, I don’t blame her.
Once the ranch disappears in the distance on our way to Solana Bluffs, I feel her eyes on me.
“What?” I ask, taking her hand and lifting my hips to get more comfortable in my seat.
“Nothing,” she answers with a small smile. “Just thinking about the turnout today. I’m glad so many people from around town showed up.”
“I don’t think Gage was planning to ask for outside help.”
She laughs lightly. “We suspected that. He needed to see how much everyone cares about you guys and the ranch, though. You all needed to see it.”
I shake my head as I think about how perfect she is. Hattie is the love of my life for a million reasons, but more than anything, she knows how to reach the hearts of the people she loves. It’s my favorite thing about her.
“Be with me.”
“I am with you,” she says, laughing again.
“I mean forever.”
My eyes stay fixed on the road as her hand tightens its grip. The pulse point in my thumb beats hard as I skim it over hers. I’m about to add on to my plea by admitting that I can’t live without her, but she responds before I get the chance.
“You think you’ll love me when I’m covered in wrinkles?” she teases.
Growing old with her would be a damn privilege. “I know I will.”
“Forever, on one condition.”
My eyes flick over to her for a split second. “Okay. But whatever it is, I’m saying yes, just so you know.”
“This will always be our home.”
She’s my home, so I’ve never agreed to a condition so easily. With a confident nod, I pull her hand to my mouth to kiss the back of it.
Open prairie stretches out on either side of the dirt road as we drive south out of Westridge.
Soon, the grass will be sunburnt, and the cows will keep close to shade trees and ponds.
No matter the season, there’s never any shortage of dust, wind, and hard-living in this part of the world, especially on a ranch.
It’s not for everyone, but it suits me fine.
Hattie holds a special place in her heart for it like I do, but on a deeper level.
I know this place we’ll call home connects her to her family in a way that I wouldn’t dream of taking away from her.
We’ll never live far from her mom and brother’s resting place or the land where she made memories with them. I’ll make sure of it.
I relax in my seat and rest our entwined hands on the center console. “Deal.”