Chapter 3
It’s been two weeks since our new hires started, and I’ve been doing an excellent job of avoiding all things Addison.
I stay locked in the office or my house, avoiding the main house—except for Sunday dinners.
Mama insists I go to those to ‘be part of the team.’ I spend the whole time with my eyes on my plate while everyone chatters around me.
I miss my breakfasts with Mama, but every time I think about the interaction with Addison, my palms sweat, and I feel like I’m going to die of embarrassment.
I won’t risk running into her by having breakfast there.
I wish I could be the type of person who gets over an awkward moment and moves on, but no.
I sit and think about what I could have said or done differently.
I was mortified when Oakley whispered that if I ever needed a quiet reprieve, I was always welcome in the kitchen.
Apparently, Daddy let everyone know I have anxiety.
I can’t fault him, not when he was probably as jarred as I was over the situation, and I left him to explain it without a warning.
It’s still mortifying. I know he didn’t do it with the intention to hurt me, but now Rusty and Briggs look at me with pity in their eyes.
I try not to look at Addison, so I can’t tell if she does.
Thinking about it makes me want to crawl back under the covers, but I’m supposed to be meeting Daddy here in the office in ten minutes so we can make a comprehensive supply list. Landry and Shane are making the first monthly trip into Missoula to grab supplies at the big stores on Wednesday.
The door creaks open while I’m rummaging around the file cabinets. I thought for sure we had some spare batteries in here, but I guess I was mistaken.
“Daddy, did you move the—” I spin around and freeze when I see Addison’s dark brown eyes scrutinizing me with a scowl on her face. “Oh. Sorry. I thought you were my dad.”
She stays silent.
Okay…
I hate awkward silence even more than trying to make small talk. It makes me start blabbing, and I end up saying weird things. I already embarrassed myself in front of her once, and I’m not trying to do so again.
“Can I help you with something?” I ask, surprised that my voice comes out even, nonchalant, and not squeaky.
“Mr. Calhoun asked me to meet him here.”
“Oh, okay.” I motion toward the empty chairs. “Well, he should be here soon. Have a seat.”
Addison gives me a curt nod, clomping over to the farthest seat from the desk. She folds her long, lithe body into it, crossing her legs at the knee. I want to stare at her, but I’m pretending I don’t know her, and it would be inappropriate to stare at an employee, right?
Right.
I sit down at the computer, opening the ranch’s email and making sure no new, urgent messages have come in the ten minutes since I checked.
Even though I’ve already completed most of the administrative tasks for the day, I click around to make it look like I’m busy.
The supply list was the last big thing, and then I was heading back to my house to paint and stew about the crush I shouldn’t have on Addison.
I’m picturing strong shoulders nestled between my thighs, golden hair gripped in my fist—
Snap out of it, Juniper.
Five agonizing minutes of silence later, Daddy finally barrels through the door of the office, talking on his phone. Whoever is on the other end means business because he’s got his stern, Ranch Boss face on. That little muscle in his neck is twitching.
Oh boy.
I can’t wait to hear what’s got him in a tizzy.
“I understand that, Mr. Dupont, but like I said, we’re booked solid that entire week.
Even for a man of your status, we can’t change the reservations people have had for months.
Let me work out the details we discussed with my team, and I’ll get back to you to confirm.
” He hangs up and blows out a frustrated breath. “We need to open a week early.”
My eyes bug out of my head. “What?”
I don’t remember a time we’ve opened early.
We have our opening and closing routines down to a science, and opening early would mess it all up.
We’d have to push the opening barbecue, and the horses aren’t ready.
Our farrier, Cillian, would need to shoe them sooner, and I don’t want to throw a wrench in his schedule. Who knows if he can make time for us?
“Clifford Dupont, some hotshot oil guy from Texas, is insistent on having his company retreat here, and we’re booked up.”
“So, tell him to book ahead for next year.”
“He’s willing to pay double to rent out the entire ranch for the week, but he needs it to be before July. Our only option is to open early for him.”
Mr. Dupont must have deep, deep pockets. That would match over half our projected June income in only a week.
“Are you shittin’ me right now?”
“I’m not shittin’ you—but don’t let Mama hear you talk like that.
I know opening a week early would mess up our schedule, but that kind of money would help us with all those improvements you want to make.
New flooring in the cabins, upgraded security, and it would be nice to add to our emergency funds. ”
The thought of switching up the schedule makes my heart race.
“You’re the boss,” I murmur. “You tell me what to do.”
Make sure the cabins are fixed up, call Cillian to get him to come early, plan a whole extra week of food, and tell Landry and Oakley. We’ll need to add so many things to the supply list, which will interrupt the budget we’ve set.
Just thinking of the growing checklist makes my palms sweat.
“Thank you for being flexible,” he says. “Now, on to the reason I’ve brought you here, Addison. Thank you, by the way, for meeting me.”
Addison, who I almost forgot was there, nods. “Of course.”
“I figured you’d agree with me, Juniper. Because we’re opening a week early, Shane and Landry need to stay here to make sure things are in order. They can’t waste a day going to Missoula so—”
My stomach plummets.
“I’m going to need you two to go grab supplies this round.”
“All right,” Addison says.
At the same time, I say, "I can’t do that.”
“You know I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t the only option,” Dad says. “You’re the only other person who has a card; otherwise, I’d send Rusty and Briggs.”
I hate the big stores. The lights are always too bright, there are too many people, and I constantly feel like I’m being watched.
I feel rushed, and I miss things on the list or grab the wrong item.
Not to mention that pushing one of those big carts full of stuff when I’m only five-foot-one isn’t easy.
I feel like I go too slow and hold up the people behind me.
Now Daddy’s telling me, on top of all my other anxieties, that I have to spend a whole day trapped in a car with a former one-night-stand who doesn't remember me? I mean, it’s not like he knows that tidbit of information.
I told him I thought she was a girl from high school who moved away when he asked about it last week.
I hate lying to him.
But I’m not about to tell him details about my sex life.
“You’re sure there’s no one else? Not Kathy or Mama? Hell, Oakley can take Landry’s card!”
“Oakley isn’t insured to drive the trucks, and Kathy and Mama have their own work to do. It’s gotta be you, June-bug. And I can’t send you alone.”
I want to stomp my foot and throw a fit, but I refrain. I’m an adult. I can do this.
I tap my fingers along my thigh in a steady rhythm and inhale deeply, trying to get my heart to stop racing. I can handle a little schedule change. I can handle one shopping trip at the big stores. I can spend tomorrow preparing for the trip, and I’ll make sure I take my meds first thing.
“Okay.” Reluctantly, I look at Addison. Damn, she’s pretty. My belly does a silly little flutter. “We’ll need to leave by seven on Wednesday so we can get there right as the store opens. I have the list, but I’ll send it to you so we can both have a copy.”
She gives me a curt nod, her face blank. I hate that I can’t read her. She’s got her emotions locked down tight. Add that to her proclivity for staying quiet, and it’s going to make for an interesting trip.
“That’s all I needed from you, Addison,” Daddy says. “Do you have any questions or need anything?”
“No, sir. Thank you. I’ll be ready to go on Wednesday morning. Have a good day.” She spins on her heel and walks out the office door.
As soon as she’s gone, I slump down in the office chair. Daddy sits down on the chair across from the desk and clasps his hands over one knee. He’s giving me a look like he’s waiting for me to complain again, but I won’t. Not to him.
But boy, is my journal going to get a good rant tonight.
“I’m fine. I’m a big girl. I can handle one trip to Missoula.”
“I think next Friday night you should take the new employees to The Copper Mule and introduce them to the Hayes and McCains. We’ll be seeing a lot of Cillian, and it would be good for them to get to know each other. Besides, they deserve to have a little fun before next week.”
I let out a tired groan. I love going to The Copper Mule, and I love seeing my friends, but I’ll need three business days to recover from a night out. I won’t get that with the ranch opening early.
“I’ll see if they want to go,” I say, even though I don’t want to.
“Thank you, Juniper.” Daddy knocks on the desk as he stands. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Probably be runnin’ around like a chicken with its head cut off.”
He chuckles. “Probably. Love you, June-bug. I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Love you too.”
On Wednesday morning, as I wait in the truck, I take a sip of my coffee.
The warm, sweet liquid wakes up my taste buds and hopefully soon, my body.
I slept fitfully last night, anxious about the day ahead, and I’m still waiting for my medicine to kick in.
The caffeine probably isn’t the best thing for my nerves, but it’s a necessary evil.
Addison strides out of the main house, her hair pulled back into a long ponytail through a black baseball cap. Why does she have to be so damn attractive? She gets in the passenger seat and buckles up, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Good morning,” I chirp. “Ready for this adventure?”
“Morning.”
Okay then. Good start to the day.
“Mama gave me a to-go cup of coffee for you. There’s water in the door and some trail mix in the middle console. If you need to make a stop or anything—”
“I’ll be fine. Let’s get this over with.”
“Right. Yeah. Of course.” Don’t keep yapping, Juniper. “Any particular music you want to listen to?”
“I’m good with whatever.”
I can’t tell if she’s trying to be amicable or if she hates me and wants me to shut up forever. Over the last two weeks, I’ve watched her interact with other employees, and this seems to be her normal mode. She’s cordial with everyone, but she keeps them at arm’s length.
Even knowing this is just how she is, my brain spins. She hates me. For what? I don’t know. Maybe our night together was awful, and she’s wiped it from her mind.
I put on a random playlist and let the music play just loud enough that we can hear it, but not so loud that I can’t hear if she says anything.
I don’t expect her to want to ask me questions, but if we don’t talk at all, I’ll crawl out of my skin.
I’ve been reminding myself over and over these past weeks not to bring up the night we spent together again.
If she’s going to pretend she doesn’t know me, I’ll do the same.
And I do believe she’s pretending. She promised me she was sober that night, and unless she’s got amnesia, it would be pretty unbelievable for her to forget.
I just don’t understand why.
Unless it’s because I was so unmemorable.
Maybe she has a million one-night stands, and I was just another on her long list. Maybe our night was underwhelming to her when it was overwhelming to me.
It’s harder than I thought it would be to pretend nothing’s happened between us, but it’s made slightly easier by her clear disinterest.
My therapist, Colleen, tells me all the time that I need to worry less about other people’s opinions, especially if they haven’t made them clear.
Easier said than done.
Ten minutes into the drive, the silence is making me itchy.
I keep taking sips of coffee to give my mouth something to do other than badger her with questions or spew the random thoughts rolling around in my brain.
I want to ask if she likes the music. Does she like the ranch?
What got her into barrel racing? Where is she from originally?
Is this her first time working on a dude ranch?
Why isn’t she on the rodeo circuit this year?
Has she ever been to Montana? Does she have a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Theyfriend?
None of my business.
In the end, I don’t ask her anything. I’d end up with my foot in my mouth.
This is going to be a long car ride.