Back at the Ranch

Keegan

I study Blue’s profile as he drives: strong jaw, straight nose, thick black eyelashes. And that talented mouth; just looking at it leaves me throbbing.

He slows the Coupe to exit the highway. The entrance to the Cooke Ranch is about five miles ahead down a winding county road.

Blue turns down the Swiftie playlist I put together last night. I’d been determined not to listen to Frasier Bryson on the trip to my grandmother’s place.

“Sorry to interrupt this estrogen infusion,” Blue drawls. “But I just want to ask you one more time, are you sure—”

“Yes, Blue,” I interrupt, turning the music back up, “I am absolutely certain it’s okay with my grandmother that you come for Thanksgiving. She’s totally fine with it.”

Okay, that’s a lie. She is so not fine with it. But I told her I wouldn’t come if she didn’t allow me to bring Blue.

And Kendra. Yeah, Kendra’s in the backseat. She’s currently dozing, her head leaning against Max. Of course we had to bring him, too.

All my relationships seem to be changing. My friendship with Megz has soured. We haven’t talked or texted since she hung up on me. I’m so pissed at her. I can’t believe she got herself into this situation. I still plan to ask my grandmother to help her, but I have no idea how that will go.

Virginia and I butt heads over everything. Even though lately, it does seem she’s trying to make things better between us, it’s hard for me to trust her. She’s pulled so much manipulative shit over the years.

My relationship with Blue is good. Really good. But we haven’t talked about the Afghanistan thing—his secret—at all. I can’t quite figure out how to bring it up. I think about it a lot though. I’ve filled pages of my journal trying to work out my thoughts—and fears—over what he told me.

Sometimes I catch him looking at me with the strangest expression on his face. Like he’s drowning, and I’m standing a few feet away, doing nothing to help him. It makes me shiver to see it, but I haven’t said anything to him about that either. I guess I don’t want to dig any deeper; I want to enjoy how things are with us right now.

And then there’s my relationship with Kendra. She shocked me the day after the Halloween party when she apologized for what happened on the deck.

“I’m not as big a bitch as everyone thinks,” she mumbled. “I know it’s not your fault Blue wants you instead of me.”

I just stood there with my mouth open.

“He never told me anything about what happened to him,” she added, bitterly. “He never let me in at all.”

Kendra and I aren’t exactly friends now. But we’re not sworn enemies either. At least I don’t think we are. When I found out Kendra had nowhere to go for Thanksgiving, I invited her to the ranch.

Blue was not happy. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he sputtered, throwing his arms up and stepping back, then tripping over Max.

“Dammit, Max, watch where you’re going!”

The dog and I gave Blue our sternest you’ve-got-to-be-kidding looks. But he ignored our silent rebuke.

We’re spending two nights at the ranch. Then we’re going to drop Kendra off before going to Tulsa for a delayed Thanksgiving with Blue’s mom. I’d suggested we invite her to the ranch as well, even though I hadn’t cleared that with Virginia. But I hadn’t even finished my sentence before Blue started shaking his head.

“She’s going on some trip with this widows group she belongs to,” he said, his face tightening like it always does when he talks about his mother. “They go away for Thanksgiving every year.”

Secretly, I was relieved Blue’s mom already had plans. I want her to have a good first impression of me. And I have no idea how much drama might be served up at my grandmother’s table this year. It feels like a big step that Blue and I are meeting each other’s families. I’m nervous about it.

My phone buzzes; it’s a text from Megz. Sorry KeeKee. I know I’m the world’s biggest bitch. And a fool. I wanted those girls to accept me so much I just lost my mind. None of them know I’m a foster kid.

The three dots on the phone tell me she’s typing more.

I sigh and shake my head, staring out the car window at the gentle hills and pastureland we’re driving through. Everything we can see belongs to my grandmother.

In the distance, I spot one of the herds of wild horses the government pays her to keep on the ranch.

When I was about 12 and crazy about horses, I used to dream about somehow getting close enough to make friends with one of them. I’d picture myself racing across the plains at breakneck speed on my beautiful, spirited mare. But those horses were meant to stay wild.

My phone dings again: Thanks so much for asking your grandma to help me. I owe you one. I won’t forget it babe!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

I decide not to answer right away. It feels like Megz is using me; I don’t know what to think.

“You okay?” Blue is glancing back and forth between the road and me.

I haven’t told him about Megz yet.

He runs a finger down my cheek, then tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingertips brush one of the beautiful diamond earrings he gave me for my birthday.

I’d tried to insist they were way too expensive, and I couldn’t accept them, but he insisted. And who am I kidding? I love them.

I’ve just opened my mouth to respond to Blue’s question when Kendra makes a vomiting sound from the back seat. “You know,” she says, sitting up straighter and stretching her arms over her head, “I’m trying to be better about this.”

She does a little circle with her finger to include me and Blue. “But do you two have to be so all puke-inducing right in front of me?”

Max gives a short bark as if he agrees with Kendra, and she hugs him.

Blue rolls his eyes and shoots an I-told-you-so side-eye at me.

“You getting enough heat back there?” I ask Kendra, holding my hand in front of the vents and ignoring her comment. The temperature dropped overnight; a light snow has been falling all morning.

“Yeah,” Kendra responds, snuggling into Max. “I’m fine. I just...holy shit.” She’s staring open-mouthed at the massive gate looming before us.

I’ve seen the ranch entrance so many times, it doesn’t even register. But I have to admit it’s pretty impressive. Huge logs make up all three sides, and they are set in stone bases.

A large, wrought-iron sign—Cooke Ranch—hangs from the top. The Cooke brand is carved into each log, along with 1893, the date the ranch was established.

Blue pulls through the gate and follows the road as it climbs a ridge and then curves around a hill. It has stopped snowing. The sun’s just broken through the clouds, and the river that winds through Rosewood Valley sparkles in the sunlight. Even in the winter, with the grass a dull brown and the trees stripped of leaves, it’s a beautiful sight.

On the banks of the river, the main house twinkles with the Christmas decorations Virginia always has the ranch hands put up in early November. In this weather, all the fireplaces will be blazing, and the inside will be as beautifully decorated as the outside.

Despite my conflicted feelings about its owner, I love the ranch as much as my brother does. As much as my mother did. It’s the only place I’ve ever really thought of as home.

“Your family owns this?” Kendra whistles. “Jesus.” She unbuckles her seat belt and leans her forearms on the front seats. “Must be nice.” She sounds a bit like Megz: jealous, resentful.

I guess I take it all for granted. I don’t feel privileged, but I guess I am.

“Hey,” Blue asks as we near the house, “what about your grandfather? I never hear you mention him.”

“I’ve never met him,” I respond. “He left Virginia before I was ever born, when my mom was just a little kid. The ranch belonged to her family, not his.” I stare at the series of barns behind the main house, thinking about how Buick and I used to play there for hours.

“He went back to New York. Told Virginia he’d only married her for her money, and it wasn’t worth it to him anymore.”

“Ouch,” Kendra murmurs.

There’s a lot more to the story, but it can wait until another time.

I point toward one of the barns, which has an open garage door. “Pull in there. The heat’ll be on, and you can leave the car there.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Blue drawls. Suddenly he’s talking like Cowboy Blue; it’s cute. He shuts off the car inside the barn, and I’m slipping my socked feet back into my boots when Kendra grips my shoulder.

“Who is that?” she hisses.

I turn to look at her, surprised, then direct my gaze out the front windshield. My brother Buick is standing in the back of a pickup on the other side of the barn, pulling down bales of hay from a stack that rises to the ceiling. He’s shirtless and seriously bulked up since the last time I saw him.

He pauses to wipe sweat off his face. Virginia always wants the heat up too high, even in the barn.

“That’s my brother.”

Kendra pivots so she can see herself in the rear-view mirror, running a finger under her eyes and smoothing her hair into place.

“Why didn’t you tell me you have a brother who looks like that?” she barks. “Did I ever tell you I’ve always had a thing for cowboys?”

Blue snorts as I open the door.

I’ve heard girls go on about Buick for years. But I didn’t expect Kendra to be one of them. “He’s a lot younger than you,” I tell her as we all step out of the car.

“So?”

“And he...well, he has a lot of issues.” I feel bad telling her that. Kind of.

Her withering glare makes me flush with shame. But I don’t want her messing with my brother.

“Who doesn’t?” she snaps.

Buick jumps from the truck bed to the ground. He’s grinning at me, and I look down at the hay-covered floor, suddenly unable to meet my brother’s gaze. I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately.

About how I treated him when he got into trouble. How cold I was to him when our mother died. He’s made a lot of mistakes, and he’s been through a lot. And I wasn’t there for him.

I can be a selfish, judgmental jerk sometimes.

I rush toward Buick and throw my arms around him. When he squeezes me back, I feel a rush of relief and regret and love for my little brother.

“Hey, sis.”

I can barely respond. “Hey.” And then the tears come. We stand there, my forehead tucked into his chest. Finally, I pull back and look up at him. “How are you?”

He smiles. “I’m okay. Better than I’ve been in a while.”

I wipe my eyes, clearing them in time to see Kendra doing this strange little sashay across the barn floor toward us. Toward Buick. What the hell?

I introduce them, and Buick puts his hand out to shake hers. It’s painfully obvious Kendra would like to jump my brother’s bones. I’m embarrassed for her. Good grief.

What is she thinking?

I take a step back toward Blue, and he curls an arm around me. “I should have listened to you about bringing Kendra,” I whisper. “Look at the way she is acting around my brother.”

“Pretty sure he can take care of himself,” Blue responds, his teeth nipping my ear and his hand wandering down to squeeze my ass. “Let’s talk about how you are going to take care of me. Or vice versa. I can’t wait ’til bedtime.”

I’m blushing. And smiling. “Me either.” I’m waiting for Kendra to finish prattling on to Buick so I can introduce him to Blue. But then I hear footsteps.

Virginia strides into the barn, wrapped in a Pendleton blanket, that disapproving look on her face.

“Oh shit, here we go,” I mutter.

Blue squeezes me against him. “Steady.”