Chapter 24
Eli
“Well, that was painful.” I crossed the kitchen and dropped onto the bench across from Dad. Took my hat off, flexed the bill. “He could’ve just said ‘not interested.’”
Ava hung by the island, all quiet. She’d been quiet. Even when the guy went off about how much our ranch sucked.
Dad pushed aside his newspaper Sudoku puzzle. “Oh?”
“Yeah, as soon as we get to the stable, he’s saying things like, ‘If you want to make this a real business, you have work to do.’”
“What kind of work?” Dad didn’t sound offended at all.
“I don’t know. Sand? Shades? Does he have any idea how much that stuff costs?”
Dad glanced back at Ava. Her lips were pressing together like words were just dying to get out. Good. She’d been giving me the silent treatment all day. I figured it was ‘cause she wanted space, but it was killing me. She had to know I felt terrible about Nina.
I shoved my hat on. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Her eyes jumped between Dad and me. “Actually, he made some good observations.”
What?
“Sand keeps the stalls cleaner.” Her eyes cut to my arms as I crossed them. “A-and a shade over the arena would protect the horses and humans from overheating. I’d actually go further and suggest a misting hose around the top. It’s cheap, easy, and a luxury that might draw fresh interest.”
I stared at her.
Finally, she speaks, and it’s a stab in the back. “Anything else you wanna add there, boss? Throw down some fancy grass? Build a cafe?” The second I said it, I regretted it.
“I’m going to check on Nina.”
And back to silent treatment.
Dad returned to his puzzle. “So, he’s a no-go?” He penciled in numbers, erased one, wrote another. “Guess we’ll have to keep looking.”
I dug my fingers under my hat. What was that manifestation thing people did? You visualize what you want? I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself not saying stupid shit.
“What’s in the bag?” Dad asked.
I opened my eyes. “What?”
He nodded at the shopping bag on the table.
Linking fingers at the base of my skull, I stared at the ceiling. “It’s a floor puzzle. For Nina. Kinda hoped if I kept her on the ground, Ava would give me another chance.”
“Smart.”
“Yeah, well, she won’t even look at me today.”
“I’m sure she’ll come around.”
I thought she had last night. Turned out, she was just too tired to fight with me. God, I’d wanted to kiss her, but Luke’s comment messed with my head. She wasn’t just some booty call.
Dad folded his newspaper and sighed. “Cheer up, son. She hasn’t disowned you yet.”
My fingers found the stitching in my hat. Have to be owned to be disowned. “I can’t believe she agreed with that pompous know-it-all out there!”
“You know, it’s healthy to get a little outside criticism.”
“That wasn’t a little criticism. That was a ranting one-star review!”
“Don’t take it too personally.”
Too late. This was our business, and he treated it like some kind of hobby. “And then he asked if we had a business license.”
“I assume you told him we did.”
“How would I know that?” That itch crawled up my leg. The music at full blast, windows down, endless road kind of itch. I popped up and stared out the window. Ava’s mattress sat in my truck bed, baking. “Wanna help me haul in the bed?”
“Nina’s napping downstairs.”
“Fine. I’ll go work on the paddock.” But that’s not where I ended up. I ducked through the bars into the arena, where Denver looked bored as all get-out.
“Hey, buddy.”
He stomped.
“I hear ya. I don’t like being cooped up either.” I slid a hand down his nose, then noticed the water bucket was bone dry, so I dragged out the hose to refill it. It made a mess because I didn’t feel like going back and forth to open the valve.
Denver nosed at the puddle, then pawed it.
“You like that?”
I lifted the spray to make it bigger, and he full-on dropped and rolled in it.
Shoot. Maybe I should throw up a UV sail or two.
I topped off all the water buckets, made puddles for the other horses, then walked back to the house. Ava’s truck was gone, and Dad was sitting in the living room flipping through a magazine.
“Where are the girls?”
He turned a page. “They went out for ice cream.”
“Great. Wanna help me with the mattress?”
I’d just tipped Ava’s mattress on its frame when Nina ran into the room with chocolate smeared around her mouth. Ava’s bed sat in one corner, and I’d put Nina’s on the opposite wall with the window between them. Seemed like a good layout.
“Yay! My bed!” she cheered. She launched herself onto it, shoes and all, making the toddler-sized springs groan with each bounce.
I snagged her under the armpits, aching ribs be damned, and swung her back to the white carpet. “All flights have been canceled until further notice.” This kid needed to keep her feet on the ground while I was on probation.
Ava came via the den, pausing at the doorway. She had her hair up in a messy ponytail, shiny and just begging to be touched. But I knew that wasn’t gonna happen when her eyes landed on her corner.
“Eli, please say you did not buy me a mattress.”
“I would, but then you’d yell at me for lying.”
She tipped her head back, closed her eyes, and I could just picture fire coming outta them. But instead of burning me alive, she stormed out of the room.
“Where else are you gonna sleep?” I called after her.
There had to be some way to win her back over.
“Did you see the walk-in closet?” No response.
Glancing down at Nina, I said, “Come here, kid, let’s clean you up.
” I took her to the sink in the connected bathroom to wipe her face.
At least one of the Garcia girls wanted my help.
A minute later, Ava stormed back in, and I knew it wasn’t gonna be good. Like the time the principal caught me graffitiing the bleachers after school.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m making sure chocolate doesn’t get on everything.”
“No, I mean, this.” She drew a big circle with her arm. “The room. The help. The bed. Are you trying to apologize? Are you trying to seduce me?”
“Why? Is it working?”
She scoffed. But it wasn’t a “no.”
“Mama, what’s seducey?”
If I weren’t in the middle of getting reprimanded, I would’ve laughed. Instead, I squatted down to Nina’s level. “Hey, Monkey. I bought you something.”
Her eyes lit up.
“Wanna go see what it is?”
“Yes!”
“It’s in the kitchen. The gray bag on the table.” Her little feet were already scrambling out of the bathroom. “But wait for me to help you open it!”
Ava crossed her arms and glared as we listened to the baby elephant thumps travel up the stairs.
I stood. “Relax. It’s a puzzle.” More glaring. “You’re right, I don’t know anything about parenting. If you want me to return it, I’ll return it.”
“No.” She rubbed her hands over her face. The angry vibes faded, and suddenly she looked exhausted again. “It’s fine.” A long exhale blew from her lips. “Thank you. For getting us set up.”
“You’re welcome.” I studied the shadows that lived under her eyes, and I thought back to those dishes that had been waiting in the sink at her apartment. To the boxes out in the den. She’d kill herself trying to do it all. “You should take a nap, or something. I can watch Nina.”
“No, I–”
“We’ll do the floor puzzle in the den. All feet firmly on the ground.”
“I can’t.”
“Ava, please give me another chance. I’m not gonna screw it up, I promise.”
“No. I know you won’t.”
She did?
“I can’t nap because I have no bedding.”
“Oh.” I glanced into the bedroom at her naked mattress. “I’m sure Dad has some.”
But he didn’t. Not full-sized, anyway. By the time I made it back downstairs, she was shifting boxes into her room. Always moving.
“What color do you want?” I asked her. “I’m gonna head out right now.”
“It’s fine, I’ll go. I have other things to pick up, anyway.”
“So do I. Guess we’ll go together.” I barreled on before she could argue. “Are we taking Nina?”
“Yes.”
“Great. I’ll drive.”
I turned off the gravel driveway and onto the main road as Ava dug through her purse. “Shoot,” she muttered. “I forgot my sunglasses.”
“I’ve got an extra pair.” I popped open the center console, but instead of sunglasses, I found an envelope full of cash. Ha! “Sneaky.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She directed her gaze to the side window.
I loved playful Ava. The air conditioning pumped, the radio played a hit, and I didn’t have any plans other than her and Nina. What else did I need?
After digging around, I found my spare shades. “So, you like your room?”
“Yeah …”
That sounded loaded. “But?”
“I guess I was wondering why Marley didn’t get it?”
I veered my truck onto the freeway. “Because Marley’s a brat.”
A laugh popped out of Ava’s mouth. “Okay. Where are her parents?”
“In Prescott. Her mom wanted to send her to boot camp. That door on the back wall of your room? It’s a second entrance from the mudroom. That would’ve given her way too much freedom.”
“So she is part of your kid’s program?”
“I told you, it’s not a program.”
Ava hummed at the passenger window. “So, what about Marley? Why did your aunt want to send her to boot camp?”
“DUI.”
“Yikes.”
I ran a hand over my hat. “I thought a little grunt work would scare her straight, but she doesn’t listen. It’s like she doesn’t care.”
“Maybe she has low self-confidence.”
I scoffed. “That girl throws more attitude than a mare in heat.”
“Attitude and confidence aren’t the same thing.” Ava crossed her legs, and my eyes wandered. “You’re the cool, older cousin. She’s probably hoping to impress you.”
I’ve had dreams about those legs. “You think I’m cool?”
“I think you missed the take-home.”
Eyes to the road. “I doubt Marley cares what I think.”
“Eli, she’s a teenage girl. Of course she cares what you think.”
Ava loaded Nina in a red shopping cart and led us straight to the aisle with the baby crack. She grabbed a tube for the kid and opened it right there. Nina stuck her scrawny little hand in and pulled out handfuls at a time while Ava browsed the shelves.
I trailed a few steps behind. Did grown women care what I thought, too? Is that why she kept insisting on doing everything on her own? Was she trying to impress me?
Ava tossed a sheet set into the cart.
“I’m buying that,” I told her.
“No, you’re not. I have to contribute something.”
“You contribute a lot.”
She ignored me and kept walking, past the plastic storage bins, past the coffeemakers. I had to take the value pack of toilet paper outta the cart and put it back on the shelf.
“Ava, you don’t have to buy this stuff. There’s plenty at the house.”
“And we’ll be using it up–Hey!”
I’d also snagged the paper towels she’d just tossed in and shoved them in an empty spot on the display as we passed.
“That’s not even where it goes!” she argued.
“Then stop grabbing stuff you don’t need.”
She slowed by the Band-Aids and sliced a glare my way.
“What’s with the look?” I asked.
“If you try to stop me from purchasing bandages, I will stick an entire package on you while you sleep. I’m taking hair, eyebrows, everything!”
I held my hands up in surrender. “Hey, you can come up to my room anytime.”
“That’s not what I meant!” She threw the box at my chest, and it fell to the floor.
I bent to get it. “I’m just saying ...”
“Maybe your mouth, too.”
I crowded in next to her, putting my mouth an inch from her ear so Nina wouldn’t hear. “You can have me any way you want me. Anywhere, anytime.”
Her cheeks flushed brighter than the employees’ shirts. “I think we’re done.” She grabbed the Band-Aids from my hand, then sped off with the cart faster than a horse jockey.
The hamper, her Band-Aids, meat, vegetables, random stuff from those bins at the front, and the blue floral bedspread all got loaded on the conveyor before she turned to me. “Didn’t you say you needed something?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.” I scanned the rack by the register and grabbed a two-pack of Sharpies.
Her crossed arms matched the vibe of her stare. “Eli, I am two breaths away from wringing your neck.”
Didn’t sound like the worst thing. At least her hands would be on me. “What? I wanna sign Nina’s cast.”
Miracle of miracles, I caught a smile before she turned to pay.
Bags in the back, Nina still working on her snack, I pulled us outta the parking spot.
Ava blew out a breath. “This may sound nutty, but I’m relieved I didn’t run into Steven.”
“You said you turned off the stalking app. How would he know where you are?”
“I don’t know. He’s just always there. It puts me on edge.”
I didn’t like that. “Listen, if you run into him again–”
“I’m going to jeopardize the legacy of his family line.”
“That. Was not what I was going to say. I was going to suggest a taser.” I never understood how someone like her ended up with a guy like that. In fact, there was a lot I didn’t know about Ava. “Been meaning to ask, how long have you known August?”
“Around four years? I met him when I started working at Hidden Meadows.”
“And you’re going to hire him as soon as you get your ranch?” The freeway looked like a parking lot, so I used city streets.
“That’s my plan. But I may not be able to pay him. Not at first. And I don’t feel right asking him to work for free.”
I’d work for you for free. “Who else was on the ranch with you?”
She pivoted in her seat to face me. “You’re asking a lot of questions.” The move hiked up her shorts, showing off way too much bronzy thigh for my health.
I turned up the AC. “Just curious. You don’t want to talk about them? Fine, what’s your favorite color?”
She stared at me like she was working out a math problem. Not much to figure out. I liked her. I wanted to know more.
“Orange,” she said finally.
“Like the flowers on the Oc-octo–”
“Ocotillo? Yes.”
I nodded. “Mine’s green. Like the thorny part.”
We passed the next four stoplights in silence, Ava chewing on her lip, me trying not to imagine snagging it with my own teeth.
“It was August, Terry, Kipper, Matthew, Jason, and me,” she said.
“My Hidden Meadows family. Then Nina joined us.” Her eyes focused on the road ahead.
“Kipper ran the office with me. She kept the books. August and Mathew worked at the barn and on the grounds. Terry’s the owner–you met him–and Jason.
Jason trained the horses and ran the lessons. ”
The hum of the engine filled the cab. I stared out the windshield, not really seeing the city as it passed. She didn’t have a family, so she made one. And she was working her butt off to keep it.
“Sounds like quite the team,” I said.
“Yeah. It was.”
It kinda made me feel like I should put a little more grease into the one I’d always had.