The Final Meal
CASH
I groaned as someone kicked my bed frame, startling me awake. I squinted over my shoulder to see Walker hovering next to my bed with two steaming mugs in his hands.
“Get up,” he mumbled gruffly, kicking my bed again.
“Go away, Dad, it’s Sunday.” I buried my head back into my pillow and closed my eyes.
Sundays were our days off, and I drank enough last night at my going away party to incapacitate a horse.
“Not for you, it isn’t. The boss wants to see you before you leave tomorrow.”
The boss he was referring to was his father, Michael Brooks. Over the past twelve years that I had worked for the man, he had become more of a father figure and less of the man who just signed my checks.
“And it has to be at the ass crack of dawn?” I whined, pulling the blanket farther over my head.
“It’s ten thirty. Get the fuck up.” Walker ripped the blanket off my body as I flopped onto my back.
“Fine,” I groaned as I sat up. My head felt like someone was hitting it with a rubber mallet as I rubbed my eyes and winced. I changed into fresh Wranglers and a white tee before meeting Walker in the front of the bunkhouse.
Walker and I were polar opposites. He had an iron rod up his ass and a permanent scowl. I, however, could befriend any stranger, and often found myself in trouble by how friendly I was—mostly with women.
When I started working on the ranch at eighteen, Walker hated me.
He showed no interest in my constant jokes, and rolled his eyes when I insisted on playing music in the bunkhouse.
I thought he needed to relax—he disagreed.
After about three months of getting on each other’s nerves, he landed a punch right to my jaw.
From that moment forward, we became best friends.
Walker handed me one of the hot mugs of coffee before we headed out toward the main house.
Before I moved here, I thought ranches like this were something that only existed on TV. I grew up in Portland and the only wild animals I saw were the ones at the zoo. We had trees and mountains, of course, but nothing compared to this mountain range in our backyard.
The main house stood at the front of the property and was all floor-to-ceiling windows with wooden accents, like a luxury hotel lodge.
Down the hill from the house were the stables and paddock where we worked the horses, alongside a newer structure that housed all of the administration offices for the business side of the ranch.
Beyond the stables was what we called The Village.
There were two bunkhouses that each housed about fifteen guys.
They were connected by a living space and kitchen in the center.
When guys joined the staff here, they often boasted that the houses were luxurious compared to other places they’d worked.
It was really all I’d ever known, and I was just happy to have a bed to sleep in every night.
Walker lived in a house he had built about a half mile up a dirt road on the property. All the Brooks kids, except Lottie, had their own spaces around the ranch, and none of them resided in the main house with their parents anymore.
That being said, the main house was where we always gathered. We had family dinners in the dining room, and parties in the rec room. The main house felt like my home, even if I never slept there.
We walked into the house through the back door, and I was surprised to see all of the Brooks’ in the kitchen pouring mimosas.
“What is this?” I pinned Walker with a stare.
“You didn’t think we wouldn’t have one last kick off for you, did you?” Reid Brooks said, handing me a drink.
Hair of the dog, I guess.
“You look like shit, man,” Axle Brooks said as he walked into the room.
“Thanks.” I took a sip of my drink and winced as my head pounded.
Michael and Georgia Brooks had five kids: Walker, Charlotte, Axle, Paige, and Reid. Charlotte was the only one who no longer lived here, but she came back every summer for a month so we still got to see her. The Brooks’ were the closest thing I had to a family.
“Are you excited for the circuit?” Reid asked as his mother started handing him plates of food to take to the dining table.
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m pumped. It’ll be weird for sure, but hopefully it pays off.”
Tomorrow I’d be heading on the road for my first stretch on the local rodeo circuit.
Michael Brooks had approached me about the opportunity last summer when their sponsored rider decided to retire.
Bronc riding was something I trained for fun, without any actual goals to compete.
I was happy keeping my head down, but when Michael Brooks offered you a sponsored spot, you took it.
Brooks Valley Ranch sponsored a rider every summer.
It was a way to get the name out there and show off the stock for potential sales.
There was potential for the ranch to make a lot of money if they chose the right rider.
I wasn’t on the pro circuit yet, but these smaller events would help me work up to it.
This was my chance to bring pride to the Brooks name. It was an opportunity I was taking seriously.
I wouldn’t be gone the entire summer, but a large part of it.
I’d be home a few weeks in between some events, but others were back to back.
While I was really looking forward to the experience—and money—I was not looking forward to staying in rentals all summer long.
I knew I’d miss the ranch. Miss my family.
I’d miss my home.
“Come on, boys! Breakfast is ready!” Georgia Brooks called out from the dining room.
We joined her to see a spread of egg casserole, bacon, cheesy potatoes, and biscuits on the perfectly set oak table.
“Thank you for doing this, Gigi.” I kissed Georgia’s cheek.
“Anything for my fourth baby boy.” She smiled at me as we took our seats at the table.
After a few years living on the ranch, Georgia Brooks insisted I started calling her Mom, but it never felt right.
I wasn’t her son—not really—and I didn’t want to live in that fantasy, so I started calling her Gigi.
It was a nickname only I called her, and she stopped pressing the whole “Mom” thing.
Suddenly, the front door of the house swung open, and Paige came bustling inside out of breath.
“Sorry, sorry, I was at Taylor’s and didn’t see the text until this morning.” She dropped her bag and sank into the open chair next to mine.
Paige Brooks was breathtaking no matter what state she was in.
Right now she was wearing black leggings and an oversized Hawke County Regional High School crewneck that had holes and tears all up the collar and sleeves.
Her white-blonde hair was in a messy bun on the top of her head and she had black smudges of makeup under her eyes—mascara she never bothered to clean off completely after a night of drinking.
She was in total disarray—and yet, she was still one of the most beautiful sights I’d ever seen.
Paige and I had…a complicated history. When I first moved here, I had no idea what I was doing.
I was eighteen and a hothead with nowhere to go.
No family. No income. No options. I saw an ad for a needed ranch hand as I was passing through town and took a chance.
Mr. Brooks assessed me with one look at my non-calloused hands and told me to go home.
When I said I didn’t have a home to go to, he took me to the bunkhouse.
He taught me everything I knew, and without him I’d probably have ended up dead in a ditch somewhere in the middle of the country.
That’s what happened to people like me—people who got lost in the system.
On my first day, Mr. Brooks showed up at my door with two rules: don’t show up to work drunk, and his daughters were off-limits. I’d heard him when he said that, but at the time I didn’t realize how far this particular Brooks girl would burrow under my skin.
We started off as acquaintances. Paige would help me with chores and talk nonstop about the latest high school drama. She’d drone on about the hottest football players, and the bitchy mean girls—shit I shouldn’t have cared about.
Then one day I started seeking her out just to see what she was up to.
I came to look forward to the hours we’d spend in the stables.
She became one of my closest friends, and for a while we were inseparable.
I always had what Mr. Brooks told me in the back of my head, but I thought if I just ignored my feelings then it would all be fine.
Obviously, that all went to shit when Paige kissed me in Shadow’s stall just after her eighteenth birthday. I ran away like a coward. She’d barely spoken to me since then, except for the not-so-subtle digs and constant bickering.
The day she moved back home after graduating college, it was like the start of my own personal purgatory. I could look but couldn’t touch, which meant I usually got out my frustration by heckling her.
She might hate me, but I was quite literally incapable of staying mad at her. One sparkle of her eye or smile and I was a fucking goner. I wasn’t sure she’d figured that out, though.
“Nice of you to join us for my departure, Pip.” I smirked at Paige as she rolled her eyes.
“I couldn’t miss it. I love celebrating you leaving me alone.”
“Actually,” Mr. Brooks interrupted, “I wanted to talk to you guys about that.”
My stomach sank like a rock as he glanced between Paige and me with a nervous expression. I wasn’t sure what he was about to say, but I knew I was probably going to be fucked by it.