Chapter 18
LEVI
The lights are already on when I push through the barn door.
The horses shift in their stalls at the sound of my boots on the concrete, a soft rustle of movement, a low exhale from the far end of the aisle.
Keeper's head comes over the stall door before I'm halfway down.
Sawyer is already at his stall with her hand running down his left foreleg, fingers working over the tendon. She doesn't look up when I come in.
I stop a few feet back and let her finish.
"I'm heading out today. I shouldn't be more than a week."
She straightens and gives me her full attention.
"Handle your business," she says. "Then get yourself back here where you belong." She picks up her coffee off the stall rail and looks at me over the rim. "This place won't run the same without you, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. So don't drag your feet."
"So you're okay with me going?"
She gives me a look.
"That's a stupid question. Of course I'm not. But I understand you have to go."
She looks at me for just a second. Then she goes back to Keeper's other leg.
Kade appears from the tack room and leans against the opposite stall door with his arms crossed, jaw set, eyes quiet.
"How long are you going to be gone, do you think?"
"A few days. No more than a week, probably."
He nods. With Kade, a nod like that means he's already reshuffled the week in his head, and he's not going to make anything of it.
"I'll cover your end while you're gone," he says. "Shouldn't be too hard. You mostly just show up and talk to the horses."
"The horses appreciate it."
"You're late every day anyway," he says. "Honestly, not sure I'll notice."
"That's hurtful, Kade."
"Drive safe." He pushes off the stall door, smiling. "I'll see you in a few days."
"Yeah," I say, smiling. "You will."
He heads down the aisle to the feed room.
I stand there with the coffee and look down the length of the barn aisle.
Nine years of mornings in this space. The smell of it, hay and horses, the cold of early light coming through the big doors.
Keeper watching me over his stall door like he's waiting to see what I do next.
Sawyer working down the gelding's leg with the same hands that gave me a job when I had nothing to offer but a willingness to work.
She said, "Get yourself back here where you belong," like it wasn't a question.
I'm going to hold onto that the whole drive.
***
Cass is on her porch when I come back across the property.
She's in the rocker with her coffee in her hands, looking out at the ranch.
Rent is stretched out on the porch boards beside her rocker, one paw curled under his chin, his tail moving in a slow sweep against the wood every few seconds.
At the bottom of the steps, Mae is in the grass with the kittens working around her.
Tornado makes a run for the step and tumbles back.
Biscuit and Lightning are latched on, nursing hard.
Steve is flat on his back like he's decided the morning is already done.
I take the rocker next to her.
She hands me the second cup off the railing. I take it, and we sit there for a minute with the barn sounds starting up across the property, the tree line going pale in the early light.
She's quiet for a moment.
"Garrett was at the Rusted Spur last night," she says. "He came over when you went to talk to Rick. I think he'd been waiting for a chance to get me alone."
I go still in the rocker.
"He sat down and told me he wants his brother back.
" She looks at me. "He said you're good at this.
Finding somewhere that feels right, someone that feels right, staying until it gets complicated.
" She pauses. "He said Sadler is still your home.
That he's going to try to get his brother back.
" She holds my gaze. "He said I looked like someone who deserved to know before it cost me something I couldn't get back. "
I go still in the rocker.
"I covered it when you came back," she says. "I smiled, picked up my beer. You asked what you missed. I smiled and said nothing. I've been sitting with it ever since. I'm done holding things back because holding things back is what I came here to stop doing."
I don't say anything.
Garrett went to her. That's the part I wasn't ready for.
I knew he was angry. I knew he thought I'd leave.
I've known what Garrett thinks of me since I was seventeen years old and he was standing in that drive watching me go.
What I didn't know was that he'd take it to her.
That he'd sit down across from Cass while my back was turned and lay it all out like a case he'd been building for years.
Which, knowing Garrett, is exactly what it was.
The thing is, he's not wrong about who I was. That's what makes it hard to swallow. He's been carrying some version of that truth for fourteen years, and every word of it is earned. I've just never had to watch it land on someone I care about before.
She didn't soften it. She didn't manage it down to something easier to swallow. She gave me the real version because that's Cass. I look at her across the porch in the early light and take it in.
"Sadler is still your home." That's the part that sits heaviest. Garrett believes that.
He's been believing it for fourteen years, keeping a door open for a version of me that was always going to walk back through it.
I don't know how to tell him that the home he's been holding onto doesn't exist anymore.
That the person who left that drive at seventeen isn't the person sitting on this porch.
That you can love where you came from and still know it's not where you belong.
But he wants his brother back. That part I understand.
That part I've been wanting too, for longer than I've let myself admit.
I just buried it under the debt and the guilt and the easier thing of staying gone.
Going back to close out the note is the reason I've been giving everyone, including myself.
The real reason is that I want to look my brother in the face and say I'm sorry I left you there alone.
I want a chance to be his brother again, even if it's from eight hours away.
This is where I belong. This ranch, this porch, this woman sitting next to me in the morning with barn cats at her feet and coffee going cold in her hands. Whispering Creek is my home. I've known it for a while. I just haven't said it out loud yet.
The thing is, Garrett told her the truth. The part he left out is that I already knew it. I've known it since the morning I drove out of Sadler with two bags and a truck. Hearing it from Cass doesn't make it worse. It makes it matter more.
"He's not wrong," I say. "About who I was. I left when I should have stayed. I've been carrying that ever since. I know it. I'm not going to pretend otherwise."
She watches me, quietly.
"But I'm not leaving this morning because things got hard." I set my coffee on the railing and turn toward her. "I'm leaving because closing that door is the only way I know how to prove to myself that I'm not still that person. I'm coming back for the same reason."
She looks down at the kittens for a moment. Tornado is on his back in the grass, legs in the air. Mae hasn't moved. When Cass looks back up at me, her eyes are steady on mine. She's made up her mind, and it's all over her face.
"Not because this is the longest I've stayed anywhere," I say. "Because you're here. Because this is mine." I don't look away. "I know the difference now between staying because there's nowhere else to go and staying because it's exactly where I want to be. This is where I want to be."
She looks at me for a long moment.
"Okay." She doesn't look away. "I’ll see you when you get back."
"Don't let anyone touch my coffee mug."
She smiles. "Go."
Then I stand up and close the distance. I kiss her slowly. When I finally pull back, she keeps her hand on my chest for one extra second before she lets me go. Her fingers spread flat against my shirt. Then she lifts them away.
I pick up my coffee, finish it, and set the cup on the porch rail.
At the bottom of the steps, Steve makes a run at the first step and almost clears it this time. Mae doesn't even open her eyes.
***
I walk out to the pasture fence.
Copper is out in the far end of the field with Cricket and the other horses, grazing slowly in the morning light. He lifts his head when I come to the fence. He walks over, ears forward. Puts his nose over the top rail and blows out against my hand.
I stand there with my hand on his face for a minute.
He's a good horse. Honest and forward on the trail, the kind that gives you everything he has.
I scratch between his eyes, and he leans into it.
I've got no idea how many days I'll be gone. Three, maybe four, depending on how the conversation with Garrett goes and how long the bank takes to process the paperwork. It won't feel like long from the outside. From here, it feels like more than I want to leave behind.
Copper pulls his head back and goes back to the grass. Done with the moment, the way horses are.
***
I go back to my cabin and pack. It doesn't take long. A bag, my guitar, the things I actually need. I've packed light my whole life. Old habit.
I grab the bag and head to the truck.
The crew doesn't make a production of it, which is exactly right.
Kade finds me walking toward my truck. He shakes my hand, firm and brief. Says he'll see me when I get back.
Londyn comes across the property and stops in front of me with her arms crossed.
"You'd better actually come back," she says.
"I'm coming back."
"Okay then." She hugs me, quick and real. "I just wanted to say it."
She goes back to the cabins.