Chapter 2
Vivian
Present day
“Mommy, look! Watch me!” Riley’s voice is full of excitement as she positions herself for a playful jump into our inflatable pool.
Before I can move away, a splash drenches me.
“Oops,” she says mischievously as she tries to hide her grin in her hand.
I laugh, because it’s summer after all. I only wanted to move away because I added tanning oil, but what the hell, right?
She removes her hand, then starts pointing and laughing at me as I dry the water off my sunglasses.
“Real funny, Riley!”
She gives me a big cheeky grin before pinching her nose and going under water.
That smile, a reflection of her father’s. Those dimples, nestled in her cheeks, were a mirror image of his own.
Chestnut waves tucked behind her ears resting just on her shoulders and doe-shaped eyes that mirror my own. Yet, it’s her hazel eyes—those mesmerizing orbs of green she got from Trevor and brown from me.
She’s a glimpse of us both.
I return my focus to my backyard, my red ranch-style house with its wraparound porch and white trim. Both the front and backyard stretches into a field of tracks, wildflowers over the fence, scattered with bursts of purple, yellow, and pink, and surrounded by bright green grass.
Every now and then we have wild horses that pass by, and Riley and I run across the road to try get as close as we could to see them.
She loves horses just as much as I did when I was little.
My focus shifts at the familiar rumble of tires rolling onto our gravel driveway.
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I hear the horn from the vehicle.
“Must be Grandpa,” I tell Riley as I get up from my seat.
Riley instantly hops out of the pool and we both head to his direction.
We spot the red Ford Focus that belongs to my dad, Eric. He’s come to spend the weekend with us.
Since Trevor’s passing, his visits have become a comforting routine, one that I never thought I’d have after moving out of my childhood home.
My dad lives on the other side of town, in the suburbs. It’s clean, safe, and convenient—close to the shops and only a short drive into town. But even with all that, I’ve always loved the quiet pull of the countryside.
“Grandpa!” Riley’s voice fills the air as she runs toward him.
I watch as she reaches him, her small figure engulfed in his outstretched arms. His face lights up with a tender smile as he embraces her.
I take in their moment, making me feel warm and grateful over the bond they share. He loves her to pieces, just as much as she loves him.
“Hey, Dad.” I greet him with a warm smile as I approach, ready to offer a helping hand with his bags but he waves off my offer, insisting on managing them himself.
Typical Dad, always reminding me that he’s capable of doing things himself, stubborn man. I think it’s part of him getting older, he doesn’t want to feel like he’s not able of doing things like he used to.
He overexaggerates about his age, though, says to never mention his real age as he’s embarrassed about it.
My dad’s almost fifty, but he refuses to accept it.
“And how’s my big bean doing?” he teases, earning himself a playful poke in the chest.
“Hey, I thought I was the only bean in your life.” Riley frowns at him, but his laughter fills the air as he engages in their familiar banter.
“We’re good,” I reply. “Just enjoying some outdoor fun and getting splashed on…” I look at Riley as she giggles.
It’s as if he sees right through me, his gaze penetrating the carefully constructed walls I’ve built around my emotions. I learned that, with time, not speaking about my feelings stop me from reliving the grief; the help of having my bartending job and taking care of Riley, I’ve been distracted.
But the truth is, even with all the distractions, it’s not enough.
I’ve been carrying this weight on my chest since the day Trevor died. Sleepless nights, aching silence. Nights where I’ll cry into my pillow just so Riley doesn’t hear.
There were moments I thought I’d break. Where the loneliness claws so deep it hurts to breathe. Times I’ll lie in bed with tears soaking my pillow while Riley sleeps down the hall. Nights she wakes up sobbing, asking where he is. Nights I have no answer that would ever make it better.
Mindy has come over more times than I can count, just to hold me.
No judgment, no words, just quiet presence while I cry in her arms. She always seems to know when I’ve hit that breaking point, showing up with wine and chocolate and a movie we won’t actually watch.
Still, even with her, I’ve struggled to accept these emotions.
Dad sets Riley down then pulls me into a tight embrace, and I can’t help but feel a lump form in my throat at his unspoken understanding.
“I asked how you were, Vivian, don’t shut me out. You’ve always been hesitant to talk about your feelings.” I see his worried expression as he frowns. “I’ve been understanding in the past but you’re starting to worry me, you need to talk to someone.” His words cut through me.
“I’m okay, Dad. Just stressed and tired, that’s all.” I look at my phone and notice the time. “Speaking of work, I should get ready. You okay to stay with Riley then?” I manage to say, my voice steady enough to pass for fine.
Instead of him pressing me, Dad simply nods. He reaches down for Riley’s little hand, and together they start walking toward the house. It’s slightly faded now, weather-worn and chipped in places but it’s still standing. Still has character and so much love.
As I follow behind them, watching the way Riley skips beside him, her curls bouncing with each step, I swallow the lump forming in my throat.
I’ll keep pretending for her. I’ll hold it together like I always do.
Because that’s what I need to do.
* * *
Friday nights at the Rusty Spurs Saloon, where it’s filled with lively music, karaoke sessions, and the promise of a bustling bar that doesn’t close its doors until three in the morning. Although some days I really wish I could shut down earlier.
Thank god Dad came over to visit and has stayed with Riley. I exhale a silent sigh of relief. I was dreading the thought of once again asking Mindy to watch her for the night, even though she always insists it’s no trouble.
Still, she’s been so generous with her time lately that I can’t help but feel guilty at the idea of asking her yet again.
Mindy is truly amazing; she deserves all the love and appreciation in the world.
Despite her confident and flirty personality that some may find she’s a little too much, it’s precisely what makes her uniquely herself, the stunning, redhead, bombshell who lights up any room she enters.
Curiosity tugs at me as I wonder what she’s up to tonight. I pull my phone from my back pocket and send her a quick text from behind the bar.
Me: Hey, now that you’re not on babysitting duty, what’s your plan for tonight, Min?
Min: Well, I’ve got two choices: the sexy blonde CEO from the bar last week or the mysterious hot guy from Tinder.
I close my eyes and process her words, shaking my head. This woman has a death wish.
Me: Mysterious hot guy from Tinder? Are you trying to get yourself into trouble? He could be a catfish, a murderer, or worse, your psycho ex…
Min’s ex pretended to be someone else on Tinder when they broke up, then proceeded to stalk her when she wouldn’t go out.
He hasn’t given her trouble since the night after Trevor threatened him to leave Mindy alone, or else he’d kick his foot so far up his fucking ass it would come out of his mouth.
Min: Hmm, you’ve got a point there. Glad I texted you. Sexy blonde it is ;) Catch ya later!
Me: Hey, you only remembered because I texted you first! Bye Min. Have a great time.
I silence my phone and slip it into my back pocket, grabbing a rag from the bar and wiping down the wet counter as I hum to the bar music.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Greg’s tall and broad-shouldered presence that can’t be ignored, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.
His eyes, dark and knowing, locks onto mine as he casually whistles along to “Man, I Feel Like a Woman” playing on the speakers in the background.
“Come on, Viv,” he teases, his voice laced with playful sarcasm. “If you’re gonna text, at least do it discreetly.”
I act surprised, bringing both hands up as if I’ve been found guilty of something.
“Sorry, boss,” I shoot back, trying to hold back my laughter. “I’ll just hide under the bar next time, sound okay?”
He chuckles, his eyes softening, then poking my waist with a light but firm touch that makes me jump.
“You better, don’t want anyone here thinking I don’t run my business properly yeah?”
I roll my eyes, playing along. “Yes, sir.” I salute him.
He pushes me to the side gently, and we both laugh.
“You’re funny.”
I push him back as I lean to serve a customer. “You love it.”
“Just get to work, will ya?” Greg chuckles and leaves behind the bar to clear some tables and make sure everyone is happy with the service.
He loves running his business, but sometimes he loves it too much.
I think the last year I’ve been working here; I’ve only ever seen him speak to a handful of attractive women who made it very clear they were interested but he would brush them off.
I asked him about it, why he would always reject them, and his response would always be
There’s no time for that when I’m busy running a bar and ranch.
Even now, he’s collecting empty cups from a table occupied by two women, a redhead who looks like she’s ready to climb him like a tree and a blonde touching his arm whenever she laughs.
I get why they want to go out with him; Greg is a really good-looking guy, rugged yet put together.
He’s got that mysterious look going to go with his mysterious personality, brown, almost black eyes, dark brown wavy hair that needs a trim, but it works, especially when he slicks it back.
His beard could use some tidying up, but again, it fits his whole look.