Twenty-seven
Cooper
Two days ago
Itold myself not to panic as I dropped the dish bin by the kitchen sink, but that didn’t convince my chest to loosen or my breaths to come deep.
With sixty seconds left to go, I was lightheaded with worry and the beginnings of a stress headache pulled at my temples.
All because Tag had stopped me at breakfast and told me to come to his office in fifteen minutes.
I checked my watch dozens of times in that quarter hour as I helped Hollie clear the plates and wipe down the picnic table.
I fretted over every single thing I’d done in the last week or two, certain there was something my brother would hold me accountable for.
A gate left open? Or maybe I forgot to do something on the schedule?
My duties at this point were fairly basic—chores, mucking, overseeing the riding schedule, keeping up with inventory, and this and that as needed.
Maybe he wanted to discuss what happened on Saturday night.
But I hoped not. Embarrassed as I was for showing up in Kerrville to drink with the cowboys, I didn’t take a single sip.
What if Tag didn’t believe that for some reason?
All addicts lied and claimed they were sober.
I’d done it myself many times. If he didn’t believe me for some reason, what would I do?
If I got fired, where would I go?
Tag had forgiven me for so many things. I’d lost count. But when I returned to Meadowbrook in January, he left me on no uncertain terms. According to Tag, if I wore a Meadowbrook polo, attended a Meadowbrook event, clocked in, or represented the ranch in any capacity, I would be sober.
And if I wasn’t, he would fire me.
From the time I was a kid, Tag felt invincible to me.
So strong, nothing could possibly touch him.
So seeing him tear up as he laid out my options shook something loose in me.
He had said, “More than anything, I want Meadowbrook to be your home. But, Meadowbrook is home to a lot of people now, Coop. And I have to protect it. Help me protect it.”
Man, that was fifteen minutes straight from hell.
Breathe. Just breathe, I told myself as I circled the wraparound porch and slipped through the formal front door.
Tag was so rarely inside the big house, I forgot he had an office there.
Frequenting the kitchen was normal for me because that’s where Hollie typically was, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ventured deeper into the big house.
It had been years. But today Tag had summoned me, so I used the formal front door and stepped into the foyer.
My eyes raked over the basic ranch decor, noting our grandpa’s map of the original Meadowbrook still hung on the wall.
Back in its heyday, it was thousands of acres.
Now, it was just eighty-five. Honestly, I couldn’t really believe Tag had achieved so much success with eighty-five acres.
I’d heard him talking to Jesse about expanding one day, but he was land-locked.
The pasture we leased from Bessy Cline helped Tag have new grazing ground to rotate onto, but right now, renting was the best he could do.
I stopped beneath the map, recognizing Grandpa Taggart’s scrawl in several places on the map.
Racking my brain, I realized I had no idea why Tag sold off those acres.
Even as a kid, he adored every inch of this place.
So why would he sell it? Maybe Tag told me at one point and I just didn’t care enough to really listen.
Shame prickled up my neck. That felt like something I should know.
Shrugging the feeling off, I quietly pushed through the foyer and around the corner until I saw the Office sign on the door.
I opened it to see Tag in his swivel chair behind the desk, looking as out of place as a polar bear on a beach.
Jesse sat in the chair opposite him, leaning back and nursing a mug against his navy Meadowbrook polo.
The room smelled like paper, coffee vapors, and old house.
“Mornin’, Coop.” Tag said, his voice still rough from sleep.
“Hey.” I shook Jesse’s hand when he held it over his shoulder.
His grip was firm. “Hey, man.”
“Thanks for comin’ in. Have a seat.”
I eased down next to Jesse, fighting the urge to immediately spew defenses and jump to apologies before the trial officially started.
Whatever I did, it was an accident. An accident.
I loved my job here. Meadowbrook felt like home now and I didn’t know what I would do if I had to leave.
I had nowhere to go, no real skills, no friends outside.
I’d saved a little bit of money, but not enough to go create a whole new life.
Leaving the ranch would mean homelessness. And I’d be right back at square one.
Jesse’s head lulled my direction as he said, “We were just talking about Tag’s interview with the Alliance. It’s today at three.”
“Nice,” I said, my voice a strained rasp. “You nervous?”
“Very.” Tag gave a soft chuckle. “Talkin’ to a bunch of cameras isn’t my…” His words trailed off as he frowned. “You alright? Your face is white.”
My throat pulled with a heavy swallow, fighting against the storm of emotions brewing beyond my control. “I’m just—wondering what I did. Whatever it was, I’m sorry, Tag, and I didn’t mean to. This job means a lot to me and I don’t want to leave and I—”
“Whoa, wait a second. Breathe, Cooper.” Tag said, using a tone he took with skittish horses. “You’re not in trouble. Not at all.”
“I’m not?”
Tag and Jesse shared a glance and started chuckling like something was funny.
“No.” Tag spoke with a laugh as he sat forward, his gray and hazel eyes roaming my face. “You didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, you’re doin’ a lot right.”
“I am?”
“Yeah. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You’re doin’ a great job. And I got the full scoop on what happened Saturday night. I’m proud of you. Walkin’ away ain’t easy.”
Suddenly, the angry wind whipping the sails around in my chest and jerking my heart a thousand different directions began to dissipate. I averted my gaze, studying the filing cabinets behind his desk as heat lifted to my eyes. “I don’t feel proud. I never should have gone.”
Jesse nodded. “Been there, buddy.” I turned my head, watching his side profile as he spoke about the way Bill down at the Tasty Mart saved his ass the day before he met Hollie. “If I would’ve been hung over when I picked Hollie up at the airport, I wouldn’t be married right now.”
My muscles released their tension—one by one—as Tag chimed in, talking about his early days of sobriety and how hard they were.
Lacing his fingers behind his head, Tag sat back in the chair, moving it back and forth as he changed his tone to something more business-like. “Anyway, to get right to it, I need your help.”
“Okay.”
“First of all, I know you really don’t want to run rodeos, but…” Tag paused for dramatic effect. “Would you be willin’ to run the sheep into Austin on Friday night?”
I thought for a moment, still struggling to shift gears. “Yeah…maybe. What kind of rodeo is it?”
He filled me in. Amateur stockyards. One night. Adjacent to a campground.
“You can take someone with you and we’ll touch base after to make sure it went well.”
By went well he meant that I stayed sober and didn’t get into trouble.
Hope and fear mingled in my chest as a hesitant, “Yeah, I think I can do that” slipped from my unready lips. More responsibility meant more trust. And even though I craved that, more trust meant higher stakes. And more chances to fail.
“Next order of business is Peter. He’s been in that fifth wheel since Sunday.
Bea and Hollie have both gone down there every day, tryin’ to get him up and out, but he’s not cooperatin’.
There’s several problems with that. First of all, the Holmes need the fifth wheel this weekend.
Second, he can’t just bum around forever.
And third, our wives love him too much to let him self-sabotage and that’s definitely what he’s doin’ right now.
So later today, I’m goin’ down there to talk to him and let him know he’s gotta move to the bunkhouse and start workin’ the ranch like everyone else or he’s gotta make plans to leave by breakfast tomorrow.
My gut says he’ll stay and work. And, if that’s what he chooses, I want you to train him. ”
I fought the urge not to recoil. “Me? Why me?”
“Well, Harlan’s got other duties this week, and I think you can do it.”
“Can’t Cody or Rudy do it?” To be honest, my interactions with Peter had been less than stellar and leading a blind guy around the ranch sounded like a royal pain.
“Rudy doesn’t have the maturity. And Cody is…” Tag shook his head. “A loose cannon. I don’t really trust him. Between us, I doubt Cody will be employed here long term.”
That was news to me. True, Cody was a bit unpredictable and had to be reminded of the rules, but he could still train Peter. Dragging a pitch fork through manure wasn’t rocket science.
Even still, I objected. “I don’t feel like I know enough to teach him.”
Jesse shook his head. “Sure you do. You do your duties plus some every day.”
Tag nodded. “All you gotta do is let him tag along and show him what to do. Then allow him to struggle through it. You don’t need to hold his hand.”
I nodded. “Alright. Well, I guess I can do that.”
“Excellent.” Tag rapped the top of the table with a note of finality. “Then meet us down at the fifth wheel at five fifteen tomorrow morning. If he isn’t packin’ his bags, we’ll force him up to breakfast.”