Chapter Five
MATO
SITTING IN a crumbling parking lot of an old warehouse close to downtown Owasso, I proudly study the building that just became mine this morning.
The venerable red brick structure, proof of a time when craftsmanship mattered, started life as a bakery in the early twentieth century and was turned into a popular grocery store chain decades later, which lost its battle to the big box stores about ten years ago.
According to the tenant sheet, several businesses have made a go of it, but nothing has survived longer than a couple of years. The owner decided to sell instead of rent again, so insert me.
Aside from vehicles, it’s the largest purchase I’ve ever made.
After I transferred from Hawaii to Quantico, instead of partying and fucking groupies from the bar with the other instructors, I enrolled to get my bachelor’s in business administration.
Instead of wasting my tuition assistance, I took advantage of online courses to do schoolwork around my instructor duties.
With my housing paid for, my education paid for, and a decent salary, I was able to save up a sizeable chunk of change over the years.
Letting myself in through the large bay door on the side of the building, I stand in the middle of the vast warehouse.
The exposed red brick walls with the high multi-paned windows create an industrial feel, but the wooden beams across the high ceiling and the worn timber floor soften the hard industrial feeling.
There’s a second floor, which runs the length of the back portion of the warehouse, that has four offices with a metal mezzanine walkway from one wall to the other.
I plan to use that as a living space after I renovate the building to get it ready to open, at least until I find out where I stand since I’m back.
Oklahoma has always been home, but the reason I’m back may not want to give me the time of day.
In fact, there’s a very good chance she’ll tell me to go fuck myself.
Each footstep bounces off the bare walls, but once I get the mats, bags, and the cage in here, all the echoes will turn into satisfying sounds of skin hitting skin, grunts of exertion, and yelled instructions. Which reminds me, I need to put out feelers for experienced fighters and trainers.
I’ve been saving and planning for this for the past five years while I was in the service, and now I’m standing in the middle of a part of my future. However, my excitement is dampened by the fact that the main reason I came back to Oklahoma might tell me she never wants to see me again.
When I walked away to enlist, my intention was to come back as soon as I could, but with every mile, every day, and every relocation, I moved further away from the promise I made and closer to a logic that told me I was doing the right thing by staying away.
The only thing that never ebbed or wavered was my feelings for Breanna.
She had it in her head I could just be the ranch hand the rest of my life and she could move into the cabin with me when she turned eighteen. Relying on her father’s generosity for my life was something I couldn’t keep doing, and the more she told me she didn’t care, the more I did care.
Back then I told myself she was better off without me. I had nothing to offer her.
She needed to go to college, she had a full academic ride, and she was planning to give up her dream of being a veterinarian to stay on the ranch with me. I couldn’t let her do that.
Walking away from her was the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever had to do.
Later in the morning, the drive to the ranch looks the same, but everything is different. I’ve driven this old back road thousands of times, but this is the first time I’ve driven it as an outsider.
In the past ten years, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to stop myself from reaching out to her, especially those times when I was watching from the shadows, attending her graduations and flying home to be close when her father had his heart attack.
I watched her success in undergrad and then graduate school; she was doing so well. She climbed higher and higher without me. Then, after she got her board certification, she built the hospital a couple of years ago – with her dad’s help, but with her own credentials.
I’ve been so fucking proud of her.
The Harlow Springs Ranch looks almost the same as it did the last time I was here. The gravel on the driveway lined by a wood-slat fence on each side, pings up under my new truck and bounces off the undercarriage.
Marley’s paddocks and stables are the first structures to the west of the driveway before getting to the house, and sure enough, she’s out in the first paddock with a painted mare standing across from her, engaged in a staring match to see who’s will is stronger.
Marley is Breanna’s oldest sister, and she rehabs horses that have been abused and abandoned. If anyone can make those horses trust again, it’s Marley.
The only thing that surprises me is that Marley’s stomach is as big as a beach ball.
After what happened to her on the night of her senior prom, I wondered if she would ever be able to have a normal relationship with a man.
But it’s been ten years since I left; she’s probably married with a family now.
Parking in the circle drive in front of the main house, which was my second home for most of my life, a barrage of memories rush back. Memories of my dad, time spent with Tucker, and of course, the ones that hurt the most: Breanna.
Scanning the barn and the stables down the hill behind the house, I find the stream that lazily curves through the property where Tucker and I would turn over rocks to catch crawdads.
From the time she was big enough to follow us around, Breanna was always there, trying to keep up, even when we ran away from her.
Maybe it’s because it happened so gradually, or maybe it was that I was young and didn’t pay attention, but I can’t remember when I stopped running from her. At some point, she became a permanent fixture by my side for the first part of my life.
Just beyond the stream is the frame for a new house. It’s a large two-story with an obvious wrap-around porch, and I wonder which sibling it belongs to.
As I open my door to get out, a deep voice comes from the corner of the house. “Mato? Is that you?”
Walking around the corner, Mason is carrying a rolled-up water hose he tosses on the ground next to the spigot at the outer corner of the porch. I bumped into him a couple of weeks ago in town, and he already asked me twenty questions.
Shutting the truck door, I walk toward his outstretched hand. “Thought I’d stop by and see how everyone is.”
“I wondered how long it would take you to come by. Come on, let’s go down to the stables so you can see Dad and Gray. I told them you were back.” He waves at me to follow him as he turns back the way he came.
“Oh, yeah? Does everyone know?” Part of me hopes Breanna knows, but the chickenshit side of me, who knows disappearing without a word was a dick move, hopes she doesn’t.
“I don’t think Kinley or Breanna were here when I told Tuck, but I know they’ll be just as happy to see you.”
Wanna bet?
He keeps talking while he walks. “Did I tell you everyone is married now?” He asks over his shoulder, his boots kicking up dust around his feet as he follows the tractor ruts to the stables.
My heart jolts in my chest and breathing becomes difficult. I check up on Breanna frequently, and I’ve not seen any marriage documents. “Everyone?” I try to sound pleasantly surprised, but my voice cracks.
“Well, Tuck isn’t married yet, but the little filly he’s with now has got him wrapped around her finger. I have no doubt he’ll be putting a ring on hers soon.” He chuckles as he carefully steps around small potholes and gravel. “Well, Breanna’s still single, but she’s a hard nut to crack.”
I quietly take a deep breath of relief that washes away the impending dread that was squeezing my chest. “Oh, yeah? How so?”
He chuckles again. “You know Breanna, she might be half the size of the rest of us, but she don’t take shit from no-one,” he chuckles over his shoulder, “and since she built the vet hospital, her sole focus has been on that. She was seeing someone a couple of years ago that seemed semi-serious, but I guess it fizzled out. She told Marley she was too busy for a relationship.”
My gut twists. I could have gone the rest of my life not knowing anything about any relationships she might have had, it’s been something I refuse to think about. It’s like pouring salt on an open wound.
“Is that Mato?” The deep, gravelly voice comes from just inside the stable door before Mr. Harlow steps out. “Well, I’ll be damned, it’s been a long time.”
Expecting him to extend his hand, I’m surprised when he pulls me into a hug like I’m one of his kids. He’s always been a big man, and maybe it’s because I’ve been gone for ten years, but he seems smaller.
“Good to see you, Mr. Harlow.”
He pushes me away and holds my shoulders as he looks me up and down. “You grew up, Mato. You’re twice the size you were the last time I saw ya, I guess the Marines filled you out, huh?”
Smiling because it’s good to see him, I didn’t realize how much I missed this place. “Yes, sir. They definitely pointed me in the right direction.”
Dropping his hands, he turns his head and calls over his shoulder, “Gray! Come up to the house so we can have a cup of coffee with Mato.”
Gray’s muffled voice comes from deep inside the stables. “Mato’s here? I’ll be right there.”
Mr. Harlow claps his hand on my shoulder. “Come on, let’s go up to the house for a bit, and you can tell me what you’ve been up to.”
When we get into the kitchen, Mason introduces me to his pregnant wife, Sloane, who makes a pot of coffee and then takes a boy who looks just like Mason, except for the black hair and green eyes, fighting her every step of the way up the stairs to take a nap.
We can hear him screaming, “Don’t wanna take a nap! I want Daddy!” even when she shuts the bedroom door.
I turn to Mason, “I see he got your temperament.”
Mr. Harlow is pulling coffee cups down from the cupboard. “That boy’s a mess, but he’s just one of my pride and joys running around this place.”
Gray comes in the back door, dragging his boots across the mat in front of the door, and walks across the kitchen to hug me the same way Mr. Harlow did at the stables. “Good to see you, Mato. When did you discharge?”
“A couple of months ago, I figured ten years was long enough. Plus, I was getting kind of homesick and thought opening a business here was just as good as anywhere.”
Mr. Harlow hands each of us a cup. “What are you opening?”
“I bought a warehouse near downtown Owasso to open a mixed martial arts gym, it’s what I’ve been doing in the Marines. They found out early on that I was good at fighting, so it’s kind of what I do best.”
The front door closes, and boots scrape on the hardwood just seconds before Tucker walks into the kitchen. He was practically like a sibling for the first half of my life.
“Fuck me, Mato, is that you?” He is limping slightly as he walks to me, and I wonder what happened.
“In the flesh,” I say with a soft laugh, and I set my coffee cup on the kitchen island.
I don’t hesitate to hug him, and he squeezes me so hard I can’t breathe.
He steps back and looks me over. He hasn’t changed a bit, except that his hair is shorter than he used to wear it, and he’s built like he’s been in the military.
Something else I notice is the hard lines on his face, and I make a mental note to ask him about it.
He takes a step back and crosses his arms over his chest. “Mason told me he saw you in town, I was wondering when I’d see you.”
Sliding my fingers into my front jeans pockets, I look around the room. “I had to stop by and see everyone, the best years of my life were on this ranch.”
He smiles. “We got into quite a bit of shit growing up, didn’t we? How are you? What have you been doing?”
“Well, after Dad died, I followed your lead and enlisted. Worked my way up to the Marine Corps Martial Arts Program and became an instructor. For the past few years, I was stationed at Quantico.”
Tucker whistles low through his teeth. “Damn, that’s a bit of a cush job to walk away from.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I don’t tell him that what really matters has been here the whole time. “I left a few things back here unfinished before I enlisted that I need to take care of.”
Gray’s leaning on one of the counters and takes a sip of his coffee before he asks, “Mason said you’re renting, are you living in town?”
“Oh, yeah, you remember old lady Sanders’ place down by the train station?
” I wait for them all to nod before I go on.
“The new owners remodeled the apartment over the barn, which they turned into a garage. It’s pretty nice.
I’m looking for a place to buy, but I’m taking my time, I want to find the right one. ”
Mr. Harlow hums as he takes a sip of his coffee to get my attention and then lifts his cup. “Well, hey, we have Sunday family dinners, of course, not everyone can always make it, but I’d like you to come if you can.”
I’ve never forgot chaotic dinners with the Harlow’s, they always treated me like family, and the feeling of being home makes me smile as I nod. “I’d like that.”
The rumble of a diesel engine out front makes my heart flip in my chest. Tucker turns to Mr. Harlow and says, “Breanna?”
Suddenly my mouth is dry. Fuck, I wasn’t expecting to see her today, thinking she would be busy at the hospital. I thought I had more time before I had to face her. Stepping away from Tucker, I face the doorway that I know she’ll walk through, preparing myself.
Mr. Harlow nods. “Yeah, she’s coming to check on Frost since she started her on those meds last week.”
My heart is thumping so hard against my ribs, I can feel it down to my toes, and my stomach is twisting in knots.
The front door opens, and Breanna yells, “Who got the new truck? I love that color of blue.”
The color of your eyes.
Her boots clomp on the hardwood down the hall, but when she steps into the kitchen, her eyes lock on me.
No amount of preparation could stop the feeling of a wrecking ball hitting my chest. She’s so fucking beautiful, it’s hard to breathe.
Her big ocean-blue eyes give nothing away, her emotions are locked down as she stares at me.
The quiet in the room hangs heavy as everyone looks between the two of us, wondering what the hell is going on.