Chapter 12
Riley
Grumpy cowboy rescues: four.
Riley: zero.
I can’t even think straight. He seems to be at the right place at the right time, but he’s saved me more in these few days than any other person in my whole lifespan combined.
The drive into town is as easy as it’s ever been.
Second nature to me, like no time has passed.
I take a deep breath at my first stop, East Dove Market.
Memories threaten to flood through me the way the river rises after a storm, and I don’t like it.
There’s not much I can do to stop them either.
It’s easy to repress everything, to file it away in a cabinet titled To Never Speak About Again in the attic of my mind.
It’s up there with the cobwebs, at the end of the spooky hallway where all my childhood nightmares that came true live, never to be pulled out again. It’s the only way I can stay afloat.
But when I step through the front doors of the market, fresh fruits and veggies stacked high to the right, jars of homemade jam from the local farm to the left, and a very smiley Ms. Debbie in the far back behind the register, I’m brought right back to happy days holding Dad’s hand and sneaking a lollipop I’m sure he paid for every time, just so I could feel like I could get away with mischief.
I’m brought back to a simple life I always wanted to run far away from, but that ended up completely and irrevocably the thing I regret the most. Not the life, but always feeling like I wanted more, until one day, it all disappeared.
That’s when I realized how much I actually had.
You never know what you have until it’s gone for sure.
“Is that Riley Banks I see?” Ms. Debbie asks, stepping out from behind the register and opening her arms to welcome me in.
“Hi, Ms. Debbie. It is me.”
“Well, look at you child, all grown up. What is that over there? You brought me goodies?”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, a habit that’s hard to break when I’m in the presence of people who practically raised me.
People I left behind, people I haven’t seen in years.
People who were family—who still are—if I just took the time to see them again.
“I did. Lilly sent these over. And honey.” I drop the goodies I brought on her table.
This might be my first stop, but it was the biggest order, and it makes sense.
This little market is where all the locals shop.
Downtown East Dove is basically the main character in this town. Touristy, but in a curated aesthetic way that actually works. Brick sidewalks are perfect for a photo dump; the vibe is high-up, uppity chic, but it’s still affordable, unlike bigger neighboring cities.
It’s giving luxury-meets-heritage. Instead of bright neon, you’ve got hand-painted signs and window boxes always in full bloom.
You can spend the afternoon hitting boutiques, shopping goods from locals, or ducking into a hidden cobblestone alley to find the only bar that feels like a total gatekept secret, even though it’s anything but.
I love this place.
“All yours.”
“Where else are you going? I’m sure Saylor would like to see you if you wanna stop at the Vet.”
Ah, Saylor, my best friend. Ex-best friend?
I can’t even blame her if she’s chosen to be the latter.
The thing is, I’ve been the crappiest friend since I moved away.
Actually, way before that. She was by my side through it all, and then, during the hardest time of her life, I abandoned her because of my own grief.
How selfish of me that when she was going through hell, I thought it was too hard for me.
I don’t deserve her friendship. Hell, I don’t deserve her mom’s kindness either.
“She’s a vet now?” It makes sense that she’d want to work with animals. She loves them more than she loves humans, and she gets along with them better, too.
Her eyes wander, searching for the right words to say, and before she even brings it up, I know she's going to talk about the accident. “She’s a veterinarian technician, and she loves it. It’s been hard for her to be around horses again, but she’s good at it, so it made sense.”
Oh, that I know.
I ran away from my ghosts, but hers haunt her everywhere you look.
How can they not, when she used to be the town’s barrel racing prodigy?
Newspaper articles cut out in every restaurant, store, or bar.
Everyone shows up for races and shows. The whole town pitched in when her house burned, a bright future that everyone supported.
Until it was all ripped away, and everything changed.
“I know,” I whisper, and she flinches. For the love of everything that sparkles, Riley, could you have a conversation with people without making them feel like shit?
“I’m sorry, honey. I know it’s hard for you too.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.”
“But I do.” Her eyes soften like butter on a croissant as she holds my hands in her delicate ones. You wouldn’t know how hard she works by how dainty her hands look, but she does. She’s a beast, and I can only hope that, one day, I have the work ethic she has. Like my sisters have too.
It must have skipped me, the gene, because I don’t have the dedication and grit everyone in my family seems to have. Not me. I’m just the black sheep.
Oh my word. Enough with the negative talk, Miss Ma’am. Change of mindset, yeah? We can do hard things. We’re working on grit. We have what it takes.
“It’s alright, really. But I, um, I have to go. I have more deliveries to make. Tell Saylor I say hi. Maybe I’ll see her around?”
She squeezes my hand. “I’m sure she’ll like that, honey. Now don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I walk away from the memories, both painful and good, the woman who was like my own mother, and from the reminders of the life I left behind.
The rest of the deliveries go by without a hiccup—except I forgot to take payment from Ms. Debbie, had to go back, and then I got stuck there, talking about life again for a while.
I’m exhausted. Today has been a decade, and I’m ready for a shower, take out anything, and a painting session. I might even go to sleep early. What a concept.
Before I drive back to my cabin, I stop at Lilly’s, but her truck’s not there.
She’s probably working late. Again. I get there, ready to hand her the cash and show her I can, in fact, take on more responsibility than she thinks.
I only cracked two eggs by accident, got locked in the coop, and forgot to take payment once. I think it was a very successful run.
Oh, I also didn’t murder Dom by accident, so I guess there’s that too.
Her truck is parked in the usual spot, but no other vehicle is here, so she’s alone. Probably working on a million things on her never-ending to-do list. Maybe there’s something else I can take off her plate.
I walk inside in silence this time, and it feels weird, almost as if I’m trying to sneak up on her. I’m not; I just don’t want her to be annoyed at me for longer than she will when she sees how late it is and how I’m just now getting back. I can’t tell her about the coop fiasco, though.
“I’m drowning. It pains me to even say this, but I need help, and I just don’t have the budget to add another set of hands,” she whispers to someone on the phone. She’s standing in the dark, only the light of her monitor illuminating her face. She nods and hums as she types her little heart away.
“I know, but who’s going to do it? I’m interviewing new counselors to replace the ones who aren’t returning.
A million things need to be fixed and done before then.
Schedules? Don’t know her. Ordering supplies?
I have no clue when that’s gonna happen.
The social media is also dead because I haven’t had the time to work on it, which means enrollment is down, and if it doesn’t pick up,” she sighs, “I don’t think we can operate like this for longer.
I know the camp was Mom’s dream, but I don’t know how much more I can try and make it work without it collapsing the entire operation instead. ”
Oh no.
I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but damn, that sounds terrible. It’s definitely worse than she’s let on, and who is she even talking to?
“I don’t know. If I sleep four hours tonight, I might be able to get done with more on the list. And maybe we’ll have the schedule by Friday. I’m thinking if I post them online, people will be excited about the new activities, and we’ll get another boost.”
Schedules?
That’s not that hard, right? I can do that! And what if I do it, and she doesn’t know until it’s done? Then she won’t be worrying about it.
Oh my gosh, you genius. Of course I can do that.
And order supplies? I can do that too. For what, though?
“No, no, you already do enough. I’m thankful for your listening ear. Sometimes, that’s all I need.”
She gasps as our eyes lock. Oops.
“Riley, you scared me!” she shouts, her hand on her chest. “I gotta go.” She hangs up, setting her phone back on top of her desk.
If she thinks I overheard her, she doesn’t show it.
She just looks at me the way she always does, disapproval and disappointment behind her eyes as she braces for whatever it is I’m going to say.
“I have cash and checks from today.” I hand her the envelope, which she takes without uttering a word. “Sorry I’m so late. I had some complications, but I made it back in one piece. More importantly, everyone was so happy.”
She nods. “Thanks, Riley. This was helpful.”
She’s thanking me? I might need to play the lottery this week or something.
“Don’t sweat it. Is there anything else I can do to help?” I ask.
Please ask me to do something.
Please give me some tasks.
Please believe in me.
“Not at the moment.”
I look at my feet, defeated, ready to turn around and leave when she adds, “Actually.” I perk up like a sunflower chasing the sun. “Did you take inventory of the shed by any chance?”
Fuck, no.
I shake my head.
“That’s alright. I didn’t think about it until today. Do you think you can do that tomorrow? I need to order art supplies, but I want to make sure I only order what’s needed. Things are tight right now.”
“Yup. Can do. Do you want me to place the order too?”
She narrows her eyes.
“Lilly, I know how to order things online.”
She doesn’t answer, just writes something down, completely ignoring my pleas.
I think Lilly grew accustomed to me getting my way, and she just ignores me now when I can’t.
My dad had a sweet spot for me, mostly because they thought I was going to be a boy for the longest time—ultrasound error—and then little boy Riley turned out to be a little girl.
One who gave my parents a run for their money, and Dad just felt guilty all the time because, according to him, for a second, he was disappointed I wasn’t a boy.
I don’t blame him one bit. It must have been shocking, but Mom always said it wasn’t even a minute long. She said he blinked twice, and then tears were running down his cheeks when he held his third daughter in his hands.
She hands me the paper. “This is my vendor. Just count how much we have and order enough supplies for…let’s say fifty kids?”
Fifty? That’s a third of what we usually see here. Or at least back when I was involved at all. Enrollment is down then.
Well, I have faith it will pick up.
It will. It has to.
“Okay. I’ll get it taken care of.”
“Don’t forget, please. It’s important the order goes out this week, okay?”
I bring my hand to my forehead in a salute. “Aye, aye, captain.”
“Go to sleep, Riley. You clearly need it.”
This woman needs to find some fun in her life again. So serious all the time.
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” I shout, skipping out of the main house with a newfound purpose.