Chapter 18
Asher
Saying goodbye had never been this hard for me.
Since this vacation had come and gone, I’d learned some hard truths about myself and about my relationship with my brothers.
No matter how far we went, or how much time passed, or even what paths we ended veering off to along the way, there was always going to be an unspoken certainty that at the end of it all we’d find our way back home to each other.
But this time, things felt different.
As I stood at the airport hugging Greyson and Gage in front of TSA before slinging an arm around Dexter and making him promise—seriously promise—to let me and Greyson take a tour of his college campus once he got settled in next summer, because there was no way he wasn’t going to that damn school, there was something about it that felt... heavier for some reason.
Maybe it was because, for the first time since leaving last year, I wasn’t entirely sure I’d be back in Louisiana for a long while.
Not because I didn’t want to be, but because there was a possibility, however small, that by the time the holidays rolled around again, I’d actually want to stay at the ranch instead. To spend time with the people who were rapidly becoming another kind of family.
I tried not to think about that as I boarded my flight and settled into my seat.
This wasn’t about me choosing one family over another. I’d never abandon my brothers on a whim like that.
However, being away from the life I’d built, the one I’d painstakingly carved out for myself over the last year, and the one I’d started to hold on to like it actually meant something, was killing me.
Much in the same way it had felt when I’d first come home to Baton Rouge, when I’d convinced myself I was being left behind and my brothers were moving on without me.
It wasn’t until after Greyson and I had talked that my view on our relationship had become a lot better.
Clarity and a healthy slap of reality were a hell of a thing in hindsight.
Knowing that neither of my brothers would forget about our family just because we were all starting our own journeys separate from each other comforted me.
It made it okay to accept that perhaps Baton Rouge wasn’t going to be my permanent home anymore.
For the entire flight, my mind raced, circling the same thoughts and worries I’d been stressing over since waking up on New Year’s Day. It was impossible to stop it.
Because every time I let my mind drift, it went straight back to him.
To Wilder.
To that goddamn conversation I’d drunkenly started and could no longer take back. Scenario after scenario flashed through my mind in rapid succession, each one worse than the last.
Grey had always accused me of being the king of disaster-itizing everything and at this rate, I was beginning to think he wasn’t wrong about it. I’d yet to tell him, or Gage, anything about what happened on New Year’s, so far keeping it to myself on the off chance all of this went south.
All I had to cling to now was the memory of Wilder’s calm, even tone when he told me we’d talk when I got back. And now that the day had come, I wasn’t sure I had the courage to face him at all.
By the time the plane touched down and I was making my way through the terminal, I had nearly worked myself into a full-blown panic attack, half-considering hopping onto the next flight back to Louisiana and leaving Texas behind forever.
I was probably going to be fired anyway.
What was the point of torturing myself by letting him do it face to face?
But then, I saw them: Laken and Dallas, standing by baggage claim, waiting for me.
The moment my gaze landed on them, all that dread and crippling anxiety took a step back, replaced by something warmer. I’d been running on a diet of no sleep and hours of nerves and overthinking, but the second I saw Laken and Dallas, it was like something in my chest finally loosened.
“There he is.” Laken grinned as I dropped my carry-on bag and pulled him into a hug. “Took you long enough to get down here.”
Dallas wasn’t much of a hugger, but I didn’t care. I grabbed him, too, ignoring the way he stiffened for all of two seconds before letting out a quiet snort and patting me awkwardly on the back.
It was the first real sense of relief I’d felt all day. “You guys didn’t have to come all the way here to pick me up.”
Laken looped the strap of my bag over his shoulder, hiking it up high. “We wanted to. Plus, Dallas won’t let me drive the truck.”
Dallas crossed his arms over his chest and muttered under his breath, “You don’t know how to drive stick.”
“And I said I’d figure it out,” Laken shot back.
Dallas let out a slow, long-suffering sigh, his expression completely unreadable save for the slight furrow of his brow. “Watching how-to videos on YouTube isn’t going to keep you from blowing the transmission.”
Laken responded with a wave of his hand.
I snorted, shaking my head as I fell into step beside them, following them toward the exit.
It was so good to finally be back.
The weight of the last few weeks—my homesickness for the ranch along with the anxiety and overthinking I’d put myself through—all of it faded just by having them here with me.
I’d fully expected to grab a cab, like I had when I left, and gotten a ride back that way, so this was a pleasant surprise in general.
Once we were packed up into the truck, Dallas took the driver’s seat while Laken sprawled out in the passenger side, my duffel bag wedged somewhere between his legs while my suitcase was back here on the bench with me.
I relaxed back into the seat while we pulled out of the terminal parking lot, hitting the highway soon after to head back toward the ranch.
Laken did most of the talking as expected, filling me in on everything I’d missed over the break, from Ryder and Dusty’s latest dumbassery to a story about some guy at the feed store picking a fight with Sully over a bag of livestock feed.
Dallas, on the other hand, didn’t say much, not all that unusual. He just listened, his focus split between the road and our conversation, only shifting every so often to change the radio station when the signal grew too staticy.
A small, familiar rhythm settled between us, the kind that didn’t need any effort.
It felt like home.
It was exactly what I needed to distract myself, to keep my mind busy and remind that loud part of my brain that I wasn’t walking into something terrible.
At least, not yet.
But the closer we got to the ranch, the more the familiar feeling of dread started creeping back in.
By the time Dallas pulled the truck through the entrance and up to the main house to park, my stomach was knotted so tight it hurt. I sucked in a deep breath, forcing myself to just get it over with.
Sitting on this any longer was only going to make it worse. Dragging out the inevitable and letting it fester until it completely consumed me would drive me insane until I found myself huddled behind the stables trying not to have a massive breakdown.
I only hoped Wilder would take it easy on me.
With a sigh, I popped open the back door and stepped out, immediately hit with a fresh breeze. I pulled the air deep into my lungs, held it there for a second before slowly exhaling, letting it settle me just enough to get my feet back on solid ground.
Looking around at the same sprawling pasture and long stretch of dirt roads leading around the property, I was happy to see everything looked exactly the same. Which wasn’t surprising, I’d only been gone a few weeks, but was comforting nonetheless.
Tossing a glance over my shoulder at Laken, I asked, “Where’s Wilder?”
He barely looked up as he yanked my duffel bag from the truck.
The door whined loudly as it was shut. “He and Sully went to an auction over in Hondo. They’re looking at another stud for those two mares we took in right before you left. Not sure when they’ll be back.”
I barely caught my disappointed frown before it settled too deep. I wasn’t sure whether I should feel relieved or frustrated.
On one hand, a delay was good. It gave me time to think and get my shit together, to maybe figure out what the hell I was going to say to him before I ended up rambling like I did last time. The other... well.
It left me with way too much time to overthink into a paralyzing state of limbo.
God, this was so stupid.
I was a grown adult, for fuck’s sake. Having a simple adult conversation about feelings shouldn’t be this goddamn stressful. I needed something to do—something to pull me out of my head before I spiraled any further.
Pelly.
If anyone could ground me more than Laken and Dallas had, it was her.
Decision made, I made a beeline for the stables, moving on pure impulse. My boots kicked up dust as I picked up my pace, jogging down toward the stables.
“I’ll see you both later!” I called over my shoulder.
Laken’s voice followed after me, dripping with sarcasm. “Sure, we’ll take your bags up to the bunkhouse for you! No problem at all!”
I smirked, not even bothering to turn around. “Thanks!”
Dallas just scoffed, which, knowing him, could’ve meant anything from You’re welcome to Go fuck yourself.
Either way, I took it as a win.
Most of the stalls were empty when I reached the stables.
My boots scuffed against the dusty floor as I made my way toward the last set of stalls at the far end, the section where Pelly’s was.
As soon as I rounded the corner, I stopped short, spotting the fact her door had been left open and her stall was empty.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair.
She’d probably been turned out to pasture for the day, as she should be, but after nearly a month apart, I was ready to see her.
With it being well past noon, there was a good chance the back paddocks were free. Taking her on a walk up there to run her through some barrel turns would keep me busy until Wilder finally decided to show his face today.
Honestly, a part of me was starting to wonder if he’d done this on purpose—headed off to an auction on the same day he’d promised to talk to me.