Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
SADIE
Once, when I was younger, my mother planned a trip for us to all go camping.
She always had a way of making the little things feel special. It was one of my favorite things about her. She always saw the best in everything.
The entire week leading up to the trip, she grew more and more excited. We went shopping for more than we could possibly need, and when Friday came, her hatchback was packed to the brim.
I was in the back seat, getting buckled and situated for the long drive, when Warren came out waving his phone at my mother.
Her shoulders deflated and her mouth twisted up to the side in an attempt to hide her disappointment from me. But I was no stranger to being let down by my father.
She looked at the car, her eyes scanning until they found me, and held my gaze before turning back around. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but judging by my mother’s stiffened body language, it wasn’t a pleasant conversation.
Warren didn’t acknowledge me before going back inside. My mom came back to the car, opened the driver’s-side door, and poked her head in to look at me.
“Hey, Bug. I’ve got some good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” Her voice was angelic and warm, like being wrapped in a soft blanket fresh from the dryer.
“Bad news first, I guess,” I replied with a shrug.
She sighed. “Your dad has to work on a new case this weekend.”
“Okay,” I answered flatly. “What’s the good news?”
“Now you get to ride shotgun and be the DJ for the entire drive to the campground.“ She beamed, scrunching her nose.
It was one of my favorite trips we ever had.
Just me, my mom, and a tummy full of s’mores. Sleeping on a slowly deflating air mattress, our tented roof acting as the only barrier between us and the stars.
I miss her immensely.
Everything feels like too much. Morning light filters through the curtains, soft and delicate. It’s only my fourth day here, but somehow it feels longer.
No one has knocked on my door. No one’s called or texted.
Everyone seems to be keeping their distance—too much, maybe.
My feet dangle over the edge of the bed and I’m wrapped in the quilt that is quickly becoming my emotional support blanket.
I can’t help but think of her.
Being in the mountains, surrounded by nature and crisp, fresh air. She would have loved it. She would’ve known exactly what to say to make this feel like it was going to be the best summer of my life.
I would give anything to have her here.
But she’s not. And wishing for her doesn’t change the fact that I’m here. Alone.
But I’m going to try. For her. Because she would’ve wanted me to make the most of it. To stop hiding in this room and at least try.
I’m in the middle of brushing my teeth when a sharp knock sounds at the door. I quickly spit into the sink and wipe my mouth with a towel before opening the door.
Emmett stands in the hallway, hands tucked in his back pockets, rocking lightly on his heels.
He looks almost nervous. Do I make him nervous?
“Hey,” I exhale—at the same time he says, “Hi.”
We both laugh, a little breathless, and he nods for me to continue. “You go first.”
I exhale slowly, rubbing the hem of my shirt between my fingers. “I wanted to apologize for everything the past few days. I, um—I shouldn’t have lied to you about coming to dinner.”
“Honestly, it’s not your fault.” He rubs a hand behind his neck and leans into the doorframe. “You were right—Wes is a total dick sometimes. He has a knack for knowing exactly what to say to piss someone off.”
“It was my fault, though. It was rude to lock myself in here and to lie to you.” I trail off, taking a deep breath. “And then I interrupted your breakfast, demanding you guys fix something for me. I was acting like an entitled brat, and I hate that.”
Emmett bites his cheek. “Yeah. About that—um, Wes shut off the hot water.”
“What?”
“We were trying to come up with ways to get you to come out. My dad was so convinced the smell of his cooking would be too good to resist, but when it didn’t work…Wes shut off the hot water.”
A dry chuckle slips out, and I cover my mouth. “That is such a dick move, but it worked.”
“I’m glad it worked.” A bashful smile stretches across his lips. “So, will you be joining us for breakfast on this lovely morning?”
I tilt my head side to side, dragging out the silence, making him wait.
“I suppose. It’s not like I have anything better to do,” I say, offering a half-shrug as I brush past him and head downstairs.
They weren’t kidding when they said eating together was a big thing.
The table is set for four people. An oval platter sits in the center of the table lined with overlapping slices of French toast, thick strips of bacon, and maple sausage links. There’s also a serving bowl of cheesy scrambled eggs, and a smaller bowl of assorted berries.
My eyes slide to Emmett, and the corner of his mouth tips up in a smirk as he pulls out a chair and gestures for me to take a seat.
Heath walks out of the kitchen carrying a few coffee mugs and a fresh pot of coffee. He pauses when he sees me sitting at the table beside Emmett. He doesn’t say anything, but the wide grin pulling at his mouth says enough.
Emmett swaps out the empty plate in front of me with the one he’s filled with a little bit of everything. I smile in thanks and plop a fresh raspberry into my mouth.
Heath slides a steaming coffee mug over to me. “There’s cream in the fridge and sugar in the jar on the counter,” he says, hiking his thumb behind him toward the kitchen.
“Oh, thank you.”
I slip out of the wooden dining chair and pad into the kitchen.
I’m reaching for the carton of half-and-half when the back screen door slams shut, making me jump.
I spin around. Wesley’s at the sink, washing his hands before drying them on the gingham dish towel.
Our eyes meet and his narrow, his jaw tightening as I stare back.
The refrigerator door closes behind me and Emmett shouts from the table, “Wes, is that you? Bring the sugar jar when you come in here.”
His brother’s words break the spell, finally freeing me from Wesley’s heavy glare.
Back at the table, I splash some cream into my coffee mug and stir before taking a long sip. I feel my body slowly start to wake up as the coffee kicks in, warmth spreading through me.
Nobody talks at first, but it’s a comfortable silence. The birds chirping and the clatter of silverware against plates fill the air.
This may be the best food I have ever had in my life, and I’ve been to several Michelin-star restaurants around the world.
“How’s he comin’ along?” Heath asks, looking at Wesley at the other end of the table.
“He won’t be ready in time for peak season, if that’s what you’re asking,” Wesley snorts. “He’s handsome, but so fucking stubborn. The son of a bitch almost killed me this morning.”
A loud giggle escapes my lips before I can stop it and everyone turns to look at me with raised eyebrows.
“Sorry,” I say quietly, and Emmett bumps his shoulder into mine, chuckling softly.
Heath bites his cheek, holding back a smile, too. “I wasn’t expecting him to be ready. He’s way too green for even the best handlers—but he makes a good passion project, and he sure is nice to look at.”
“Let him be your project then,” Wesley says bitterly.
Heath hums and takes a sip from his coffee mug.
“Who?” I ask, glancing between Heath and Wesley, taking a bite of French toast.
“Outlaw. He’s our newest stallion—“
“Outlaw?” Wesley interrupts, ignoring me entirely.
“What’s wrong with the name? I thought it was fitting. He was on his way to be turned into glue, had I not bid on him.”
“I’m sorry—did you say glue?“ I ask, grimacing.
“Yeah, honey,” Heath says gently. “It’s not too common these days, but horses like him usually have two options: the glue factory or the slaughterhouse. I couldn’t stand to see such a good-lookin’ horse go to waste.”
“What good is an unrideable horse at a guest ranch?” Wesley asks, scowling.
Heath sighs deeply. “Maybe he’s feeding off the piss-poor attitude you’ve got going on, son. Consider working him a lesson. Plus, I’m sure guests will get a real kick outta seeing you try to tame him.” He chuckles softly before downing the rest of his coffee.
“I could try working with him, if it would help,” Emmett offers.
Heath shakes his head firmly. “No. He’s Wes’s responsibility now. Nobody touches him. Let the rest of the guys know.”
Emmett frowns, but it fades quickly. “Yes, sir,” he says, stealing a sausage link off my plate with a wink. I scrunch my nose, picking over the remaining berries.
“Now that Sadie has had a few days to settle, it’s about time we take her around and show her what she’ll be doing to help us out,” Heath says, not bothering to look up from his newspaper.
I glance between Emmett and Wesley, foolishly lingering on Wesley longer than I should. My eyes narrow, silently waiting for him to fess up and apologize about the hot water situation. But he keeps staring back at me, his expression completely unreadable. All but drawing a line in the sand.
Emmett knocks his shoulder gently into me again, snapping me back into the moment.
“Aww, don’t worry, Sades. We won’t work ya too hard,” he says, a playful smile on his face.
But the work isn’t what worries me. It’s the flash of Wesley’s eyes as he dares me to say something, and the relentless prickle of heat flooding my cheeks.
I’ve never been able to walk away from a challenge.
“Once you get a lay of the land, we can talk about adding more responsibilities. But for now, I think starting with keeping the barn in order and feeding the animals is enough,” Heath says, an encouraging smile on his face as we exit the barn and start walking the path back to the main house.