Chapter 4 #2
He joins me on the couch and soon we fall into comfortable silence. Outside, the storm hasn’t let up, but in the living room of the old ranch house, it’s cozy and warm. I take another sip of the whiskey and can feel myself relax a little.
It’s been an exciting night. The birth of an animal always is. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the adrenaline that flows through my body every time a new life comes into the world. My body is still buzzing from it, but now, I can’t help but think I’m buzzing for another reason, too.
We’re close. His leg is almost touching the quilt I have wrapped around me, his glass of whiskey casually resting on his thigh between sips.
“So,” I say after a bit, mostly to keep myself from staring at him too long. But also, because I’m filled with a sudden desire to know more about this grouchy cowboy with a surprising tender side. “Why come back to Rock Creek after all this time? From what I understand, it’s been quite a while.”
He takes his time before answering, breathing in deeply and exhaling slowly before he finally says, “You didn’t learn that information from the gossips in town?”
“I’ve heard some things,” I admit. “But I’m not much for gossip. I’d rather hear it from you.”
He turns toward me, one brow twitching up as if he’s trying to decide how much to say.
He takes another sip of his whiskey before leaning back against the couch. “This place is home,” he says carefully. “At least it used to be a long time ago.”
I stay quiet, certain he’s not done.
“Growing up, Rock Creek Ranch was a very different place. Full of life and adventure. My brothers and I had the best childhood here. Mama was…” his voice catches, but only momentarily.
“She loved her horses. Sometimes we used to tease her that she loved them more than us,” he adds with a soft chuckle.
“But that was never true. She took a lot of pride in them, though. And with good reason. Her horses were known as some of the best in the west. She built her breeding program from the ground up. It was widely respected, and she had a wait list that was years long for her fillies. It was pretty incredible.”
When he doesn’t add more, I ask, “What happened?”
Wyatt lifts his glass to his lips, takes a long drink and simply says, “She died.”
I knew that already, but to hear it from his lips so matter-of-factly stops me.
“She got sick,” he continues. “Cancer probably, although she didn’t go to the doctor until it was too late.”
“Oh.”
“She used to say it wouldn’t have mattered. But we’ll never know.”
I slip my hand from under the quilt and set it on his leg. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. That’s awful.”
If he notices my hand, he doesn’t mention it. But he doesn’t pull away either.
“What’s really awful is the way this place has fallen apart since then. My father changed overnight. He turned into a horrible, violent man. I tried to protect my brothers from it. They were just boys. We all were. It was as if when she died, part of him died, too.”
My heart aches for a younger Wyatt, doing what he could to shield his brothers.
“Things got a bit better when he remarried only a year later, but then my stepbrothers came along and nothing was the same again. It was as if my father couldn’t stand the sight of us.
Like maybe we reminded him of her. As soon as we could, all five of us got the hell out of here.
This is the first time I’ve been back in over twenty years. ”
He looks at me for the first time and offers me a shrug of his shoulders. “I almost wish I hadn’t. Seeing this place like this. It’s hard. Mama would have been…well, it doesn’t matter, I guess.”
“So, he left it to you? You’re going to fix it?”
Wyatt takes another slow sip of his whiskey before continuing. “He did. To all five of us oldest boys.”
“Not your stepbrothers?”
He shakes his head. “I couldn’t tell you why. Then again, I never did understand the bastard. No point in trying now.”
I squeeze his leg a little, the hard muscle of his leg, relaxing a little under my touch.
“Don’t know if there’s much here worth saving,” he says.
“I think there is,” I say. “And you’re the man who can do it.”
He studies me, like he’s not used to people believing in him.
I take another sip of whiskey, courage blooming warm in my chest with every sip. “Where are your brothers?”
“They’ll be here,” he says. “I was between ranch jobs, so it was easy for me to come right away. Everyone else, well…they’ll be here soon. Not sure what they’ll think of me selling, though.”
“Selling?” I almost choke. “So that’s the plan? You’re going to sell this place?”
He hesitates, then sighs. “That’s the plan. Not that my brothers will agree. It feels wrong letting it go. But it feels wrong holding on to it after all this time, too.”
The fire pops, and for a long moment, neither of us speaks.
It’s the most he’s ever said to me, and I get the impression it’s the most he’s said to anyone in a very long time.
Maybe it’s the fire lit room. Maybe it’s the whiskey. Or a combination of everything, but something between us has shifted. The edge of his gruffness has softened, and for the first time, beneath the facade, I can see the man who’s been carrying far too much for far too long.
The silence stretches warm and heavy between us. But I realize that I don’t need to fill it. I just want to stay here in this moment with him.
When he finally looks at me again, there’s a question in his eyes that I can’t quite read.
And just like that, I know the night isn’t over yet.