Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Ledger
The high plains wind in the dead of winter and back-to-back missed calls from a pissed off girlfriend: two things that can fuck right off today.
I bite the end of my middle finger, yanking off the leather glove with my teeth. The pad of my thumb swipes across my phone screen.
By some miracle, there are no voicemails from her. Still, the other notifications are racking up.
I want to care. But what I want more is to never get bitched at by this woman again. As I’ve learned in recent months, opposites do not attract. Not in my case, at least.
It’s shitty to break up with her over the phone. But it’s either that or wait until she storms onto this ranch with a red face and sharpened claws.
After clicking her name, I press the phone loosely to my ear.
“Well, I’ll be fucking damned,” she answers the call with no pleasantry. “So you’re alive, then?”
I have an overwhelming urge to hang up the second I hear her tone.
“Yes,” I grumble. “Hello, Katie.”
“Hi, yourself,” she scoffs. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you about this weekend.”
“What about it?” I’m trying not to sigh, but it comes out anyway.
“I know you don’t like when anyone comes over to your place, but I’ve already talked to Morgan and everyone else. I thought we could invite some friends or maybe go over to Jace’s place? He has a sound system, and we could have a party.”
“Hell no.”
I throw my gloves into the cab of the enclosed side-by-side and slide onto the seat, slamming the door behind me. She curses through her teeth on the call as I put it in drive and do my best to avoid the deeper parts of snow in the pasture.
She’s using my best friend, Jace, against me. He works here at the ranch, and we’ve been buds since our school years. He knows better than to show up to my place with a bunch of people or host a party and invite me over.
Despite Katie’s incessant complaining, my heart rate suddenly slows to a more content pace as I distract myself with my mental checklist. The cows have extra hay, new calves on the ground have been tagged and accounted for, and all of the ice has been shoveled out of the water tanks.
Mom’s green chili is waiting on me in the slow cooker at the ranch house, and I’m about to kiss this annoying woman on the other end of the line goodbye so I don’t have to buy ear plugs for a snowed-in weekend with her.
“Why!” Her voice cracks, heavy with annoyance.
“I’m not in the mood. I’m staying at my house, and I don’t want a bunch of people around all weekend.”
“But—but it’s so boring,” she whines. “There’s nothing to do. You’re no fun at all, you know that?”
I roll my eyes and steer to the left, driving over the cattle guard toward the maternity barn to give the cows that were moved there this morning one last check.
I spend about ninety percent of my time outdoors, and Katie complains about bugs or the cold. I meet up with a friend every once and a while but prefer to stay in at night, and Katie complains about the quiet. It’s never-ending, and it seems like there’s no choice I make that she likes.
“It’s probably best you don’t come over anymore at all, then.”
Git.
As my papa would say. I won’t go as far as to spit on the ground in her direction like he would, but the thought does cross my mind.
The line goes silent, and my thoughts spin over how to kick her to the curb without being a dick.
She was a lot more chill a few weeks ago.
When we hooked up and kept talking afterward, she started telling the whole valley I was her boyfriend, and I went along with it because I’m not one for confrontation and she was nice at that time.
“Fine by me!” She raises her voice to a shrill. I momentarily wince and pull the phone away from my ear. “You wouldn’t give me the attention I deserved unless I had four legs and a long black tail! I’m so done. I’m breaking up with you.”
Without seeing her in person, I already know that her nose is stuck ten feet in the air.
I chuckle. “You’re breaking up with me?”
“Yes.”
“Got it.”
Well, that was easy.
“Ugh,” she groans. “You never have anything to say. It’s maddening.”
Ignoring her stab, I park in front of the sliding wood barn doors and kick my snow-covered boots against the rusty metal roping dummy before walking in.
With protection from the wind, it’s much warmer in here, and I lean my head over each of the panels separating the cows that are about to calve.
They all seem relaxed and have plenty of straw to bed on, so they should be fine until later tonight for another check.
“This is it, Ledger. I’m hanging up now. And don’t even think about crawling back to me the second you need a warm mouth and can’t find one to put up with a recluse.”
“K.”
“This is your last cha—”
Click.
As soon as I hang up, it’s not disappointment or an uneasy feeling that settles in my chest. It’s damn near joy. I smirk, knowing I’ll get to do whatever the fuck I want this weekend and not be criticized for it.
Katie will be fine. She never had any issues picking up the loneliest cowboy within a fifty mile radius before.
In my eyes, we were never endgame, and I have a hunch she wanted a piece of my parents’ money and land too.
According to her, there’s not much else to like about me, so it only makes sense.
Gold digger seems a little extreme, but if the boot fits, all the more reason to cut things off. Although, I guess she’s done that for me and I don’t have to be the bad guy this time.
I didn’t listen to my gut when I kept seeing her, which is hard to admit. I usually pride myself on the fact that I’m good at reading people, predicting outcomes, and staying out of bad situations.
Oldest child syndrome in full force.
Avoiding it altogether is the safest route, but I’ve been lectured by my mom and sister one too many times about being more social. I wanted to make them happy, and seeing me with someone had them skipping for joy. Literally.
I want them to feel that way. I just wish it didn’t mean entertaining girls who’d rather slowly change everything about me than take me the way I am.
With frozen fingers, I untie the Wild Rag around my neck and shake off the frost. A humming white noise crackles from the old radio that hangs by the chute in the corner of the barn, and I walk over to turn the dial until the local station comes through again.
After tipping up the brim of my hat and leaning against the chute, the weather report comes through. There are a few skipped words from the bad signal, and a scratchy tone behind their voices, but I listen as best I can.
“Could be a big one,” a man says with an urgent edge.
The transmission fades momentarily into a hum of static, but then a woman cuts in.
“Outages are likely, so fill up your generators. And stay off the roads if you know what’s good for you.”
I purse my lips and flip the off switch.
My sister or my mom will be calling in approximately two minutes, convincing me to either head home before the roads get worse or stay here for the weekend.
I love my family, but they’re a social bunch.
I have no doubt there will be a million people here by the end of the night for card games and hours of talking.
Right on cue, a text from sis pops up, asking if I’m staying here for dinner.
I reply that I’ll stop in for a quick bite, but then I’m headed out for the weekend. To which she responds with three eye rolling emojis. She makes sure to add on a heart and tells me to be safe, so I don’t need to worry too much about bailing.
Now I have to hightail it out of here before Mom catches word.