Chapter 3
SHELBY
The last morning in my childhood home was spent packing my things.
The cabin generously given to me for the next three months was small, and while I wouldn’t be moving all of my things from my dad’s house just yet, I would be moving to Boise with everything I owned in September.
So, not to be overly dramatic or anything, but I was essentially packing up my entire childhood.
I also made good use of the garbage can.
The posters of NBA basketball greats taped to my walls and the ribbons from the county fair didn’t make the cut.
Two large boxes of my clothes didn’t make the cut either.
Yesterday, the day after my date with Briggs, I’d stolen Tessa away for an emergency trip to Idaho Falls to go shopping for new clothes.
While Tessa definitely preferred wearing joggers and t-shirts, she at least knew the basics of fashion and how to fit clothes to my lean body with light curves that I had spent my entire life strapping down and hiding.
It had nothing to do with Briggs.
I knew that. He was nice, but it had everything to do with this idea of change that had taken hold of me since my dad’s wedding.
I didn’t want to change completely. There were plenty of things I liked about myself, but those things had more to do with my reverse layup skills on the court or nailing the backlight on a photo.
I was just a girl who wanted to look a little more put together than she used to.
The craziest change would be my vow to straighten my hair 2-3 times a week.
My goal was to “train my hair,” as Tessa put it, to make it two days a week where my hair would require a wash and straighten.
Two to three hours of my life that I would hopefully gain back in other ways.
I would never be different if I didn’t manifest something different.
I’d be starting an office manager position at a national photography magazine called Wild Horizon.
I’d been lucky to land the job and was hopeful that one day it would be a foot in the door to a photography position.
The current manager was having a baby and planned to quit indefinitely once she did, so my position didn’t start until the end of August. Tessa’s suggestion to work at the dude ranch for my remaining months in Eugene had been a relief.
Offering me a cabin to stay in while simultaneously getting me out of living with two newlyweds was also a relief.
My phone lit up with a call.
“Hey, Tess,” I said.
“You all packed up?”
I looked around my room at the piles and half-filled boxes littered everywhere. “Uh. Sure.”
“It should be easy when you can just take a match and light all your old clothes on fire.”
“And give other people the chance to miss out on old, stained team shirts and Chad’s old basketball shorts? Never.”
“Why do you have Chad’s old shorts?”
“He sold them to me when I was in junior high. They work great for washing windows and weeding the garden.”
“He sold them to you?”
“They were too good to just give away.”
“I have so many questions but not enough time. We’re moving forward. You know, I always thought you were cute, but I must say I’ve never been more proud of you than I was yesterday at the mall. Graduating you from a sports bra to a real bra was a special moment for me.”
“I have had several real bras, thank you very much,” I protested. It was actually one real bra, which I rarely wore. For the past few years, I’d spent half my time as a coach and the other half as a photographer. Neither of those activities required a real bra.
“Sure you did,” Tessa said. “Do you have your first outfit planned?”
“No.”
“I texted you a picture of all possible combinations. You should be good to go all summer with what you got.”
“In case I forget to tell you, you’re a gem of a cousin, and I’m sorry for all the times I made faces at you behind your back.”
She laughed. “What time are you coming to the ranch today?”
“I promised my dad and Belinda I’d have breakfast with them, and then I’ll head out. I’m guessing I’ll be there around eleven.”
“Perfect. Jake is organizing a shooting competition for whenever you get there. He didn’t say that outright, but it’s definitely for you. You might want to bring your A game.”
“He is?” For some reason, the knowledge of this simple gesture filled me with relief. And excitement. And the dreaded realization that I hadn’t held a gun in a really long time.
“Yeah. I’m glad you’re coming. I think you’re just what he needs.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, throwing one pair of Chad’s old shorts in my suitcase, just in case I needed them.
“We’ve all been kind of worried. He keeps everything so close to his chest. He’s had it pretty hard the past little while. I just think…a little dose of Shelby might help the medicine go down.”
“What?” I asked over the sound of Tessa’s laughter. “Your pregnancy brain has done something crazy to your head.” Tessa was eight months pregnant, which I loved for her and Logan.
“I’m just saying…” She trailed off and didn’t actually say anything else, but her implications were clear enough.
I thought back to my childhood with Jake.
There were too many memories to count, but not one of those had included any pining or forbidden crush or anything of the sort.
People could think what they liked, but Jake and I were only ever meant to be friends.
That had been clear enough our entire life.
“Alright, I’ll tell everyone you’ll be here around eleven. I’ll let you know where we’ll be shooting.”
We hung up, and I got back to packing. I was almost done when I got to the cluster of pictures of my mother in a frame sitting by my bed. I peered closer at the woman with striking red hair who sat holding me and helping me blow out my birthday candles.
I had no real connection to my mother. She passed away when I was two.
It had been a fast-moving breast cancer, which they’d caught too late.
I’d spent so much of my childhood and teenage years staring at those photos, wondering about the ethereal creature with the wide smile staring back at me.
She sported the same light skin as I did now, though, thankfully, my hair was less of a fire-engine red and more of a rich auburn.
The freckles scattered across our cheeks and noses were the same.
It was a shame how a baby didn’t remember the first few years of their lives, when I was probably never far from my mother’s arms. As a baby, I would have known her face out of a crowd.
I probably ran to her whenever I got hurt.
I was sure she would have kissed away all my scrapes and tears.
Sung me lullabies to help me sleep. And I remembered nothing.
I loved hearing stories of her, whatever I could sneak out of my non-emotional father.
Sometimes Chad would tell me a few bits he remembered.
He was eleven when she passed, but by the time I had been old enough to ask for some of his memories, he only had a select few he could remember clearly.
I added the frame to the pile to keep. I was about to take another load to my car when a folded-up paper tacked to my wall gave me pause.
It had been tucked up in the corner of a bulletin board, almost hidden away.
I pulled it down and opened it, immediately making way for the grin that bounded across my face.
The contract.
Memories of a horrendous moment being stuck to Jake’s braces came flooding back to me.
This time with more amusement and less mortification.
It was the sneeze that had actually dislodged us, breaking a couple of wires on both of our braces in the process, but at least we’d been freed.
I tucked the paper in my pocket, planning to show it to Jake on a rainy day.
My small hometown of Eugene, Idaho sat quietly near the center of the state, about thirty miles south of the town of Salmon.
To get to the dude ranch, I followed the highway for seven miles before breaking off onto an obscure dirt road heading toward the Lost River Mountain range.
The Salmon River meandered alongside the road toward my destination.
It was the first week of June. The snow had all melted, except for a light dusting on the tops of the mountains.
This was the prettiest time of year for Eugene.
The fields were growing green, the trees were once again stocked with leaves and birds, and the morning air felt warm and full of possibility.
I rolled down the window at the next turn.
Mountain air mixed with sagebrush and a hint of wildflowers filled my lungs.
About two hundred yards ahead was a tree-lined driveway leading toward the ranch.
The trees were tall and flanked the lane cheerfully.
Past the trees, there stood a cluster of log buildings.
I hadn’t been here in years. The dude ranch had always been a quiet staple in the community for as long as I could remember and had only recently passed hands from the original owners to Layne Marten and his son, Logan, and son-in-law, Cade.
It had been a good pairing. Logan knew construction and could make repairs on the buildings as well as build new cabins for the bigger vision the new owners had for the place.
Cade and his wife, Kelsey, had recently moved back to the area after he’d finished with vet school.
Cade still kept busy as the vet in town, but according to his wife, in his heart, he was a cowboy.
Cade helped with the horse and cattle operation of the ranch and had plans to buy more land and more cattle.
They had just recently built a beautiful white house with a porch, big enough for their growing brood of children and overlooking the mountains.