13. Lyla #2
Wade had opened up to me earlier on the drive into town about how he feels like he failed Beck, and the rest of his siblings.
He didn’t divulge too much about the circumstances with Beck’s mom, and I was too young to understand at the time, but it doesn’t sound like the split was amicable.
I got the feeling that the kids got stuck in the middle.
Wade explained that he did his best for them with what he had, but between the demands of the ranch and handling three kids on his own, he dropped a lot of balls. I couldn’t help but think that Wade and Beck have more in common than they realize.
He said me showing up in Sage Valley felt like a sign that everything would be ok. I really hope that’s true, for myself included.
“I know,” Beck answers. “It’s just a lot to juggle. Skye and Nash help but… I don’t want them to be burdened with this. I’ve always looked after them.”
“It was a lot for a teenager to handle,” I point out.
Beck shrugs. “I guess as the oldest, it’s always been an expectation of me. Like it was an expectation that I would take over the ranch one day. It’s not that I don’t want to, there’s nothing else I’d choose to do, but…”
“The expectation adds unwanted pressure,” I say, knowing all too well how suffocating it can be when you’re trying to fit yourself into someone else’s box.
“Exactly. I saw how it impacted my dad, too. He took it over from his dad, who took it over from his dad. Generations of Hollis men that always did what was asked of them. Then when Mom left, it was like he didn’t know how to do it all.
Suddenly there was too much demanding his time and attention, and we always took the backseat.
But it’s all that really kept him going, too. It was his purpose.”
“Has the ranch always struggled like this?” I ask.
“Every ranch struggles to a certain degree,” Beck says. “But there were good years, too. My dad had the benefit of perspective, of seeing how things ebbed and flowed. Lately though, it’s only ebbing and I’m being sucked out with the tide.”
“What would your dad do, in the low years?”
“I’ve asked him, but his answer has pretty much always been the same.
Ride it out.” Beck extends his hand in front of him, making it seem like this is an easy thing to do.
“He’s had a few developers come knocking over the years, and he could have easily taken offers to sell, or at least divide up part of the land, but he never did.
He always saw a way through. This land is what keeps us connected to our ancestors. ”
“I won’t make you sell any property, Beck,” I assure him. I know how it feels to lose your home. I’ve been disconnected from my own family–from myself–since Austin sold the house we grew up in. “I promise. We’ll find a way of keeping the ranch intact.”
Beck’s mouth ticks into a reserved smile.
“What?”
“You said ‘we’,” he says. “I’ve never had a partner in all this. I’ve always been alone dealing with my dad, the ranch, all of it. It’s … it’s nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of for once.”
“It’s good to let people in to help you every once in a while,” I say. “No one can do everything alone.”
Beck’s face is outlined in silver from the moonlight, the set of his jaw stern but pensive. The sun has dropped all the way behind the mountains now, and stars begin to dot the sky, glittering overhead.
“The stars are beautiful tonight,” I breathe into the darkness, tugging the hand knit blanket tighter around my bare shoulders.
“Yeah, I guess you don’t get to see this many in the city,” Beck says. “It’s my favourite part about living out here, where there’s no light pollution.”
“I forgot how bright they can be, and how many there are.”
In the dim light, I can’t see where Beck is looking, but I can feel it. His gaze heats my skin, a subconscious physical reaction, like his eyes are flint and something sparks to life inside of me.
“You don’t remember sitting out on your roof looking for the constellations?” He asks.
It feels like forever ago now, but it was the night where everything between us changed. That was back before Beck didn’t have a chip on his shoulder all the time. It was back before I had lost myself.
He spent a lot of time at our house as a teenager, and now understanding more about his upbringing, I can see why.
We had a picture perfect family, a loving household filled with laughter and joy, and Beck hardly ever wanted to leave.
Which is why he stayed over most weekends, when he wasn’t busy helping out on the ranch.
One night, as I did most nights, I climbed out the dormer window of my bedroom, onto the roof that hung out over the front porch to stargaze. Beck must have heard me, because he climbed out through Austin’s window, next to mine.
We sat mostly in silence. But there was a brief moment where he turned and looked at me, our eyes connecting for a long, quiet moment.
I thought Beck might have kissed me, then.
I think he would have, had Austin not decided to join us and interrupt the moment.
Ever since, Beck has kept his distance from me.
“Of course I remember,” I say. I peer into the shadows of his eyes, just like that night, trying and failing to read the emotions there.
“Why did you really leave, Lyla?” Beck asks, his voice almost strained.
I shrug, even though I’m pretty sure he can’t see it in the dark.