Chapter 5
LEIGH
The text came Monday morning while I was still in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying not to think about the disaster at the bar.
Booker: Hey Leigh. You free this afternoon? We want to show you something at the ranch.
I stared at my phone. The ranch. Second Chance Ranch, where Booker and Reece lived and worked. Where they rehabilitated horses and people. It sounded like something you only read about and it still blew my mind that I was related to people who went to such lengths to do good in the world.
Leigh: What time?
Booker: Two? We’ll all be there.
All. Meaning all four brothers. My stomach flipped, but not with the dread I’d expected. Yesterday at the farm had been overwhelming, but it had also been... good. They’d been kind. Welcoming. Like they actually wanted me there.
Leigh: I’ll be there. Can you send me the address?
Booker: Already sent it to your mom. See you then.
I set the phone down and dragged myself out of bed. Mom was in the kitchen making coffee when I came downstairs, and she looked up with that careful expression she’d been wearing since we arrived.
“Morning. Sleep okay?”
“Fine.” I poured myself coffee. “Booker texted. They want me to come to the ranch this afternoon.”
Her face brightened. “That’s wonderful! All of them?”
“That’s what he said.” I took a sip, the warmth spreading through me. “I don’t know what they want to show me, though.”
“Does it matter?” She smiled. “They’re making an effort. That’s what counts.”
She was right. I just wished my stomach would stop twisting itself into knots.
#
The drive to Second Chance Ranch took about twenty minutes from Jasper’s house.
The property was massive, with white fencing stretching in every direction, paddocks with horses grazing, and several large barns dotting the landscape.
I could see the beginnings of a house being built in the distance and what I assumed were the cottages they’d had built for the people coming here for help.
“This is beautiful,” Mom said as we pulled up the long drive.
It really was. Open and peaceful, with mountains visible in the distance. The kind of place that made you want to breathe deeper, slow down.
Four trucks were parked outside the main barn. My brothers’ trucks, I assumed, since I’d seen them at the farm yesterday.
My hands were sweating. Ridiculous. These were just four guys who happened to share DNA with me. Nothing to be nervous about.
Except they weren’t just four guys. They were my brothers. And I wanted them to like me so desperately it hurt, and I wasn’t even sure why that was.
“You want me to come in?” Mom asked.
“No. I think...” I took a breath. “I think this is something I need to do alone.”
She squeezed my hand. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
I got out before I could change my mind and walked toward the barn. The door was open, and I could hear voices inside. Male voices, easy laughter.
I stopped at the entrance, suddenly unsure. Should I knock? Just walk in? Call out?
Before I could decide, Trace appeared in the doorway.
“Leigh! Perfect timing.” He grinned, that paternal warmth from yesterday still there. “Come on.”
He led me away from the house and I followed in confusion. Inside, the barn was neat and organized. Tools hung on walls, workbenches lined one side, and in the center…
Four quads.
They sat in a line, clearly well-used and well-loved. Each one slightly different, personalized. Booker, Xander, and Gage stood near them, and they all turned when we entered.
“Hey,” Xander said, that perceptive gaze taking me in. “Glad you could make it.”
“Thanks for inviting me.” I looked at the quads, confused. “Are we going riding or something?”
Gage grinned. “Something like that.”
Booker moved toward the back of the barn, where a tarp covered something large. “We wanted to show you this.”
He grabbed the tarp and pulled.
Underneath was another quad. Brand new, shiny, completely different from the worn ones they rode. It was beautiful with red and black, sleek lines, clearly top of the line.
I stared at it. “That’s... nice?”
“It’s yours,” Trace said simply.
My brain stuttered. “What?”
“It’s yours,” he repeated, his voice gentle. “We all chipped in. Welcome to the family.”
I looked between them and the quad, not understanding. “I don’t... why would you buy me a quad?”
Xander stepped forward. “Because we’ve been riding together since we were kids. All four of us and Dex. It’s kind of our thing. Every summer we’d tear around the ranch, getting up to no good.”
“When we need to clear our heads,” Gage added, “or talk without anyone overhearing, or just be brothers... we ride.”
“And you’re our sister,” Booker finished. “So you need a quad.”
The words hit me square in the chest. I looked at the gleaming machine, then at these four men. They were strangers two days ago, brothers now, and something in me cracked open.
“You bought me a quad,” I said, my voice embarrassingly thick.
“Can’t be a Farrington without one,” Xander said lightly. “It’s like, a rule.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll come riding with us,” Trace said. “That’s all we want.”
I touched the handlebars, running my hand over the smooth metal. It was real. Solid. Permanent. Not a tentative gesture or a polite inclusion. This was them saying: You’re one of us now.
“I’ve never ridden a quad before,” I admitted.
“Then we’ll teach you,” Booker said. “Come on.”
The next twenty minutes were a blur of instruction. How to start it, how to shift weight, how to brake. They were patient, taking turns explaining different aspects, correcting gently when I made mistakes.
“You’re a natural,” Gage said when I successfully completed a circle around the barn lot.
“I haven’t crashed yet. That’s all I’m going for.”
They laughed, and the sound wrapped around me like a blanket.
“Ready to actually ride?” Trace asked.
My heart pounded. “Where?”
“Up into the hills. There’s a trail we’ve been riding since we were teenagers. Beautiful views, easy terrain for a first-timer.”
I looked at my quad. My quad! God, I had a quad. What else could I do but nod? “Let’s do it.”
#
Riding up into the hills behind the ranch was surreal. I stayed in the middle of their formation, Booker leading, Trace behind me, Xander and Gage flanking. Protected without being smothered.
The trail wound through trees and open meadows, climbing gradually. The quads handled beautifully, and after the initial terror wore off, I started to actually enjoy it. The speed, the freedom, the wind in my hair. I hadn’t even peed my pants, which had been a particular concern at one point.
Then we crested a hill, and suddenly the whole valley spread out below us. Willowbrook in the distance, the ranch property stretching out in patches of green and gold, mountains rising beyond.
“Wow,” I breathed.
“Best view in the county,” Xander said, pulling up beside me. “We’ve been coming here since we were kids.”
Booker had stopped ahead at a clearing where someone had left a massive picnic basket on a blanket spread in the shade of a large oak tree. If I had to put money on it, I was guessing Reece. Blake had a chaotic energy about that made me think she’d leave us with just coffee and chips.
“Reece packed lunch,” Booker said, that quiet smile on his face. “Said we’d need sustenance for corrupting you properly.”
We settled on the blanket, and they unpacked enough food to feed an army. Sandwiches, fruit, chips, cookies, thermoses of lemonade.
“So,” Trace said, biting into a sandwich, “first quad ride. How are you feeling?”
“Terrified and exhilarated.” I took a drink. “Mostly terrified.”
“That’s normal,” Gage assured me. “Xander crashed into a fence his first time out.”
“I was eight,” Xander protested. “And it was Gage’s fault.”
“How was it my fault?”
“You dared me to do a jump.”
“I dared you to do a small jump. You decided to go for the big one.”
I watched them bicker, this easy back-and-forth that spoke of years of history. Years I’d missed.
“What about you?” I asked Booker. “Any embarrassing first ride stories?”
He considered. “I was the cautious one. Did everything by the book. Drove Trace crazy because I wouldn’t go fast enough.”
“He was also ten,” Trace added. “The rest of us were younger and dumber.”
“Speak for yourself,” Xander said. “I was younger and smarter.”
“You crashed into a fence.”
“Ancient history,” he said, waving it off like it didn’t matter.
Their laughter was infectious, and I found myself relaxing in a way I hadn’t since arriving in Willowbrook. This was easy. Natural. Like I’d always been part of this.
“What about you?” Gage asked me. “What were you like as a kid? Did you cause trouble?”
I thought about my childhood. Small apartment, Mom working doubles, me entertaining myself with a camera Aunt Rebecca gave me for my tenth birthday.
“I was quiet,” I admitted. “Kept to myself mostly. Took pictures of everything.”
“When did you start with photography?” Trace asked.
“Ten. My aunt gave me this old digital camera, and I was obsessed. Started documenting everything. The neighborhood, the beach, people going about their lives.”
“That’s young to find your passion,” Booker observed.
“I think I needed it,” I said honestly. “Something that was mine. Something I could control when everything else felt uncertain.”
They were quiet for a moment, and I worried I’d said too much. Revealed too much about the financial struggles, the single-parent household, everything they’d had that I hadn’t.
But Xander just nodded. “Art saves you sometimes. When nothing else can.”
“Is that coming from experience?” I asked, grateful for the shift away from me.
“Not my own. Blake is the artist in our family.” His expression shifted to one that showed he was thinking of the woman he loved. “She’s really talented. You should check out the gallery while you’re in town.”