40
D ropped tailgates, beer on ice, the end of summer. The shuttering of Runaway Ranch for the season.
Everything about the farewell campfire dinner is chaotic and magical and it’s never been more perfect.
As Davis lifts a cooler, I duck under his arms and spin around to snap a photo of him in his element. I giggle when I examine it. He’s scowling, his dog tags glinting in the descending sunlight. I don’t think these Montgomery men could smile if their lives depended on it.
Lowering the phone, I study the rugged landscape and the ranch.
The Montgomery Brothers—they do Montana proud.
Every guest has a beer in their hand. Chef Silas digs a shovel in the earth, uncovering the pit-pig he buried yesterday.
Music plays on the speakers from an ancient stereo.
A small campfire burns proudly in the center of the field.
Beyond us, the mountains stretch the sky, the sunset a vibrant lilac glow.
Ford, Davis and Charlie stand around like broad-shouldered bouncers waiting to rush in if there’s trouble. There’s an energy radiating off the Montgomerys. They’re wired. Proud. They love this ranch so much it shines on every one of their faces.
Guests sit on long logs, laughing, eating their feast on paper plates. They snap selfies and chat with the ranch hands and staff. Soon, they’ll go back to their lives, but I hope they take a piece of Runaway Ranch with them.
It’s what I’ve done this summer.
I belong here.
It won’t be easy to tell my brother and father I’m staying, but it won’t be hard either.
My entire happiness, my heart, is here with Charlie.
Even though Runaway Ranch will be closed until next summer, I plan to continue with their social media posts.
The more I can grow their account, the better.
And by working with my travel agency to pre-book influencers and get the word out via social media, there’s no doubt in my mind that next year, they’ll open with a bang.
Next summer and every summer after.
And I’ll be here.
Smiling, I glance up at the clear blue sky, the new cowboy hat Charlie bought me perched atop my head. With the wind at my back, the sunshine beats down my face. I close my eyes and inhale deeply.
At last, I feel complete.
This summer I learned there is so much I can do.
I’ve chosen the direction of my life. No one else.
I’m strong because of my heart, not in spite of it.
I have a cowboy who loves me.
I have friends and found another family.
Staying with Charlie, living in Resurrection, it’s what I’m meant to do.
When I glance over, I catch Charlie watching me with pride in his eyes. He gives me a wink, and my stomach warms in the way it does whenever I see him.
With life.
With love.
Raucous laughter gets my attention, and I see a group of guests dancing in the pasture.
I back up to the edge of the tree line, wanting to get a group shot for the end of the year video I’m putting together. As soon as I snap my photo and lower the phone, my world spins.
“Oh no,” I murmur. A flutter. Black dots pinprick my vision.
Wanting privacy, I move into the woods and press two fingers against my throat, monitoring the rapid pulse of my heartbeat. Between hauling firewood for the farewell dinner and running back and forth to the cabin for supplies, I’ve pushed myself too hard today.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pressing a hand to my heart. “You’re okay. You’ll be okay.”
I have to be.
A rustling in the woods startles me and I spin around.
Ten yards away, Fallon and Wyatt stand in the clearing, inches from each other. Their low voices sound heated.
I bite my lip. I’m a witness to something I’m not supposed to see, but unable to turn away.
With a soft growl, Wyatt plucks the cigarette from her mouth and grinds it out on the bark of a tree.
Fallon glares daggers at him, but Wyatt’s hand reaches out to find hers.
She tries to stubbornly pull away, refusing his touch at first, but then she gives up the fight.
I watch as their index fingers loop around each other’s like curled-up bits of vine.
Wyatt tugs her close, saying something, but she refuses to budge.
Then Wyatt drops her hand and heads toward his Airstream.
Breath held, I step back, pressing myself up against a tree.
Fallon glances around. The light from the forest dances over the silvery scar on her delicate jaw. Her narrowed hazel gaze takes in her surroundings, and after a second of hesitation, she follows Wyatt.
I smile.
When I exit the woods, another truck has joined the circle. An older man, clad in a cowboy hat, and sporting a long white mustache, stands talking to Charlie.
As I approach, the man glances my way, thumbs hooked in his belt loops. “This must be her.”
“It is,” Charlie says, sliding his arm over my shoulder. “This is my girl, Ruby.”
My girl. My lips pull high because I see he’s proud, anxious, even. It’s in his eyes and in the space between us. Love.
Charlie continues with introductions. “Ruby, this is Stede. Fallon’s father and the toughest old bastard in Resurrection.”
Stede barks a laugh and shakes my hand with gusto. His long mustache reminds me of some wise western cowboy. “Nice to meet the heart of Charlie’s ranch.”
“Hi, Stede. Nice to meet you.” I flush at the compliment, flash Charlie a playful smile. “That’s a tremendous honor, though. Not sure, I’ve earned it since I’m not a local.”
Stede’s brows shoot up.
Charlie growls at me. “I get the point, Sunflower.” His expression turns serious as he looks back at Stede. “She’s as much as a local as you and me.”
Stede chuckles. “I take your word on that, son.”
“Y’all can make small talk at the ridge,” Ford barks, hustling back to us. In his hands, he carries a long lighter and a portable speaker.
Davis appears with a cooler. On top of it rests an axe and paper lanterns. “Let’s get,” he says, thundering to his old Chevy. “We got Family tonight.”
I turn my cheek to look up at Charlie. “What’s Family?”
Ford throws his arms around me and Charlie and sticks his grinning face between us. “Family is where we all get together and bitch about Charlie.”
I giggle at the brotherly banter, smiling as Ford messes up Charlie’s hair. Cackling, Ford ducks away before Charlie can snag his shirt and take a swing of his own.
Charlie scowls after his brother, but I can hear the smile in his voice. “It’s the one day of the month we can’t get out of. Even if hanging out with Wyatt’s like pulling teeth.”
Ford glances at the campfire. “Where is he, anyway?”
The tips of my ears go pink, thinking of the scene I saw in the woods.
“I think he went to the house for more beer,” I lie, wanting to buy them time.
Commotion ensues as everyone packs and preps.
“We don’t need to stick around here for the party?” I ask Charlie.
“No,” he says. “Everything’s handled. We got our time in. Now we let our guests enjoy and we go have our own party. It’s Runaway Ranch tradition.”
“I can’t wait to see this,” I say, bouncing into him. His eyes darken and he kisses my lips.
Ford grins. “Hell, yeah. When that summer sun starts sinkin’, it’s time to take it to the ridge.”
“Whooo-whee,” Wyatt hoots, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. “Looks like we got some rowdy friends ready to raise a ruckus tonight.”
Charlie cocks a dark brow. “Where’s the beer?” he asks.
Wyatt looks confused.
“It wasn’t in the house?” I ask, giving Wyatt a look and hoping he picks up on the message I’m sending.
His attention flickers to me and he nods. “Sure wasn’t, Ruby. Davis must have grabbed it.”
Davis eyes his little brother shrewdly. “Shirt’s on backward.”
“New trend,” Wyatt swaggers. But the tips of his ears, barely covered by his shaggy mop of hair, are bright pink.
Minutes later, Fallon appears, her expression unreadable. She goes to Stede’s side and slips her arm through his.
Clocking that everyone is present and accounted for, Davis lifts a big hand and motions us all forward. “Let’s go.”
“You ready, Sunflower?” Charlie asks. And then he laces his fingers through mine and pulls me toward his truck.
My heart leaps.
I’m so fucking ready.