Chapter 17
Colter
I wake up with my son’s foot in my face, sheets pooling around my feet, and a headache that feels more like a construction zone has been erected in my head, rather than a functional brain.
There’s a moment where I consider staying in bed for the day, but then I remember how much work there is to do.
There’s a fence that needs repairing—then again, there’s always a fence that needs repairing.
We have more calves to tag, and we have to check on the cattle on the north end of the ranch.
Not to mention the horse Jake has agreed to saddle train, the goat enclosure that can’t seem to actually hold the goats, and the stack of feed that needs to be picked up from Hal’s before he sends it back to the supplier, but keeps our money.
My patience is fraying at the edges, and I’m struggling to keep up.
“Ben! Let’s go! You’re gonna be late.” Kayla’s voice calls down the hallway, drawing my attention to the clock on my nightstand.
“Son of a bitch!”
“Shhh.”
“Ben, I know you did not just shush your father.” My jaw ticks as I pull his leg away from me and slide out of bed. “Get up. Get dressed. We’re running late this morning.”
Something is pulsing behind my eye.
Pulling on a random pair of jeans and a shirt from off the floor, I turn back to my son, who’s still lying in my bed. “Ben. Up. Now.”
Groaning, he slides off the bed, eyes still closed.
He walks drearily out of the room, giving me a moment to compose myself.
Once I make my way down to the kitchen, I’m essentially giving away my freedom for the day.
Kayla will be chipper as always, wanting to talk, and I’ll gladly hang off of every word, but it won’t lessen my headache.
Ben will be bouncing around the kitchen, all of his energy starting to bubble within him, and it definitely won’t help the pulsing behind my eye.
What I need right now is just a moment of peace and quiet—and some extra strength Tylenol.
I get 2 minutes before Ben starts banging around in his dresser, killing my last shot at quiet for the day.
By the time I make it downstairs, Kayla’s dancing through the kitchen like she’s a ballerina performing her life.
She’s got her hair tied in a perfect spiral on top of her head—which does little to keep the image of her as a dancer from my mind—and a mug in her hand.
She stops her twirling when I walk into the room, grimacing at just the sight of me.
A reaction every man wants to see from the woman they’re crushing on.
I’m thirty-three, and I’m crushing on someone. Jesus, how pathetic am I?
“You look rough,” she says, not unkindly. “Coffee’s ready.”
“I know I look rough,” I mutter, grabbing the mug she’s set out for me. “I woke up with a foot to the face, and then my son shushed me.”
Kayla snorts, placing a plate of bacon down in front of me. “That was an accident,” Ben calls from the hallway, sounding suddenly wide awake now that he’s defending himself. “I was still asleep.”
“Ben Williams, you were not asleep when you shushed me,” I scold, narrowing my eyes.
Ben comes barreling into the kitchen, slipping and sliding in his socks, and Kayla steadies him with a hand on his shoulder, checking that he isn’t about to take out her stack of clean plates.
“Sit,” I tell him, taking him out from under Kayla’s steady hand and leading him over to the table. “Now eat.”
“And don’t tell me you’re not hungry. I’m not letting you have a snack before recess today. It’s too distracting.” Kayla warns, bending down to load the dishwasher.
“Really?” My son whines. “Even if I’m still hungry after breakfast?”
“Really,” she affirms. “You shouldn’t need a snack if you’re eating properly. And don’t think I didn’t notice you ignoring your worksheet yesterday. I know you were trading snacks with Nick instead of working.”
He grins sheepishly at her, and she grins right back, and I have to look away before whatever’s in my chest starts doing something stupid.
“Kayla, sit and eat,” I gesture to the plate of food she’s made for herself, but still hasn’t sat down to eat. She does this every morning—gets Ben and me settled and then forgets about herself.
It’s not like any of this is new. Kayla’s been living here for a while, helping with the ranch, helping with Ben’s math, and keeping Sylvie and Mandy company. We’re a well-oiled machine these days, falling into a routine that feels strangely domestic.
We’re good at this—good at pretending this is normal, good at pretending this is a normal dynamic, good at pretending I don’t notice the way she fits into every part of our lives.
But pretending doesn’t stop the doubts from filtering in, reminding me that Castlebrook isn’t permanent for someone like Kayla.
There’s an even stronger thudding sensation in my skull at the thought.
By the time Kayla and Ben roll down the driveway on the way to school, the clouds have rolled in low, and the wind’s kicked up enough dust to fill my sinuses with grit. My headache shifts from a pulse to a full throb.
The fence that Scott said needed fixing last night has actually collapsed in three places.
The calves that need tagging are already halfway to the creek, and the four-wheeler we take out starts making sounds like it’s about to disassemble itself.
Then the goats get out. Again.
And I handle it all on my own, while Jake fights with the yearling he so graciously agreed to work with—for free.
“I’m just saying, maybe it would be beneficial to hire a few more men,” Scott offers his unsolicited advice, leading one of our geldings into the barn where the vet his waiting. The horse walks with a limp that becomes more pronounced the further he walks.
I lean against the barn door, holding it open for him. “Thank you, Scott. I appreciate the advice. If you can find someone who wants to move to Castlebrook to work on a ranch, feel free to share their name with Jake or me.”
“Really?”
He doesn’t pick up on the disdain that literally drips from my voice.
“Sure.”
“Cool,” he says, tying off the lead and shutting the stall door behind the hurting Paint.
The poor boy nudges my hand, and I rub along his nose, hoping that he’s only tweaked something.
A broken leg for a horse could ruin its whole life.
He wouldn’t be the first horse we’d have to put down, nor would he be our last, unfortunately.
Scott leans against the wall next to me, watching as our vet does her thing. She starts with the preliminary assessment. “Go for lunch, Scott. This is the only opportunity you’ll have all day.”
“What about you, Boss Man?”
“Don’t worry about me,” I shrug. Lunches for me are a luxury, not a given. That’s the name of the game when running a ranch. “Go before I find something else for you to do.”
“I’m gone!” He basically trips over his boots on his way out, and the vet chuckles quietly under her breath.
“Poor guy,” she mumbles, hands trailing along the back leg of the horse.
“Is it broken?”
“I wasn’t talking about the horse.” She deadpans. “Scott is terrified of you.”
“Good,” I grumble. As he should be.
He still isn’t off the hook for how friendly he’s been with Kayla.
By the time the vet finishes with the horse, the sun is climbing higher than I’d like, and the day’s work hasn’t slowed down in the slightest. Jake is still wrestling with the stubborn yearling, the calves are still halfway to Timbuktu, and Rooster informs us of another fence that needs fixing.
I’m helping the vet load up the equipment into her truck when Scott reappears, a sandwich in hand, looking like he’s expecting a medal for simply surviving the morning. “So what’s next?” he asks, crumbs clinging to his lips.
I grit my teeth, rubbing at the pulse behind my eye. “Next is everything else. Go with Rooster to patch the fence by the pond. I’m going to see if I can’t fix whatever is wrong with the four-wheeler.”
Scott’s eyebrows shoot up. “Sure thing, Boss Man.”
It’s only 30 minutes later that Scott calls.
“What do you need, Scott?”
“You lost fair and square. Man up and tell him,” Rooster grinds out, before there’s a shuffling over the phone.
“Uh, hey, Boss Man. Bit of an issue over here. The fence is completely down. We found the herd wandering into Braverman land. We got most of them back.”
“Most of them?”
“We’re missing a couple.”
“Jesus Christ.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, eyes closing. “Just fix the fence so the rest don’t fucking get out. I’ll be there soon.”
“Uh yeah. Sounds good.”
Staring at the ATV that’s half dismantled, parts strewn across the cement, I can’t help but wonder who I pissed off, cause that’s the only explanation. Someone, somewhere high up, is mad, and they’re taking it all out on me.
The hours blur together after that. I ride out on Saturn, meeting up with Scott and Rooster near the valley under Devil’s Peak. My headache is now a constant, throbbing drum, but it takes a backseat to the job at hand.
Scott and I spend hours riding through fields looking for the two missing cows.
I miss dinner with Kayla and Ben.
I miss seeing my son before he goes to bed.
I miss watching the new episode of Survivor with Kayla.
My whole day feels like one long hectic disaster, and I’m just ready for it to be fucking over.