My Sweet Enemy Rancher

by Emma Sutton

  “I’m scared. They’re kind of scary looking,” a little girl says in a small, lispy voice. She wears a pair of dark blue jeans with a pink Sesame Street T-shirt, so I gather she’s probably about five years old. “Don’t you think they’re scary?”

  Hattie pats the white and black horse’s side, showing the girl that it’s alright. “He may look scary, but he’s actually very nice. We’ve been training this guy a lot lately. He likes to ride nice and slow. His name is Oreo. Do you want to say hi?”

  “Hi, Oreo,” the girl says as she raises a shy hand and waves at the beast.

  As if answering her, he snorts causing the girl to skip backward.

  “Oh, it’s okay,” Hattie laughs. “That’s Oreo saying hello back to you. Would you like to hop aboard and give him a spin?”

  The girl sighs and stomps her feet in the dirt, kicking up a mini cloud of dust. Her face grows long with doubt. “Maybe I could do that.”

  “Great. So you’re already wearing jeans which is excellent! And whenever we ride horses, we want to make sure to have on long pants just like the ones you have on, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “That’s why I’m wearing jeans, too, see?” Hattie smiles. “Know what else we need?”

  “What?”

  Hattie reaches over to the fence where a small-sized headpiece hangs from the post. “Riding helmets. Can I put this one on you? I think it should fit you just fine, but we can try it and see.”

  The girl nods enthusiastically, and Hattie squats to her level, placing the helmet overtop the girl’s hair. With a smile, Hattie fastens the strap underneath her chin.

  Standing here, I smirk at their interaction. I haven’t seen Hattie work with many children, or at least if she has, I haven’t been around to witness it since we set up that snow cone booth at the Ranch Days Festival last year. But seeing her like this with one of our younger guests, my heart grows about two sizes bigger.

  Handful is going to make one hell of a mother someday, I find myself thinking.

  I hadn’t called her last night. And in fact, I’d slept a few minutes past my alarm this morning which means I couldn’t make it here in time to plant a note before all the other wranglers would be around. But knowing I’d spent most of the evening long into the night frustrated and worrying and working on creating some kind of a solution to our financial debacle, I feel like the only thing that would’ve proved time better spent is if I had been with Hattie.

  “Hey, Walker,” I hear someone shout from the mouth of the stable. Glancing over my shoulder, I spot Eliza and throw a gentle hand up at her.

  Realizing I’m now in the middle of the wranglers’ workday, I decide to speed things up. I came up here for one reason, and one reason alone.

  Focusing back on the action in the ring, I lift an arm in Hattie’s direction. “Howdy,” I call.

  Her attention now aimed at the fence where I stand, Hattie’s face twists into something of discomfort when she spots me.

  I wave her over, but she shakes her head as if to tell me no, and I suddenly realize I shouldn’t infringe upon their lesson.

  With a tired sigh, I clasp my hands in front of me where they rest on the fence and continue to watch her. By now, I’m completely unashamed and enamored by everything she does out there in the arena.

  A few minutes into Hattie working to coax the little girl into her own bravery to ride Oreo, she calls for a water break. Only then does Hattie grab my eye.

  Walking over to me with Oreo in tow on a lead rope, she lingers five feet from me. “You come to grill me on the twenty percent again?”

  I chuckle, so glad to hear her humor even though there’s not a single shred of playfulness in her sunlit expression. “Not exactly,” I say, rubbing a palm over my jaw. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine. And you?”

  Shifting my weight and planting a fist on my hip, I nod. “Well, I’m alright. I apologize for being a no-show last night. I didn’t end up finishing until nearly eleven.”

  “It’s okay. Late nights,” she says, forcing a smile.

  I scratch my head and try to read her distress for what it is— the disgrace of me standing her up. “Yep. So hey, I was hoping you uh—” I clear my throat. “I was hoping you’d want to go out again tonight? We can even head back to Laramie if you’re feeling like it. What do you say?”

  Hattie’s jaw goes slack at my question. Oreo stands only a few feet from her now, swaying his haunches in the dust, and Hattie folds her arms in front of her chest which reads as something of a defense mechanism. “I—” she sighs. “Walker, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Her skepticism throws me, and I genuinely, for the first time since getting to know her, grow concerned regarding the two of us as a unit. “What do you mean it’s not a good idea?”

  She bites her bottom lip as if she’s thinking and then shrugs. “I mean I don’t think we should see each other anymore. It’s probably too much right now.”

  Furrowing my brow, I shake my head like I don’t understand the words coming from her beautiful mouth. At a loss for what’s actually happening, I grit down on the words feeling a thread of agitation streak through me. “Can you please elaborate?”

  Her facial expression morphs from ambiguity to annoyance, and when she finally speaks, I hear a certain tremble in her voice, as if this week’s news is finally affecting her. “I did some thinking last night, Walker. And if this place is going under anyway, there’s no point in us doing this,” she says, throwing a nod toward me. “I’ve gotten used to not really having anyone— family or whatever— and so I realized that, though you’re not my family, having you there for a while was great. But let’s be honest with ourselves— how long will that last if we’re all shipped out of here by the end of Summer Season?” Reaching up, she tightens her ponytail to give her hands something to do.

  I open my mouth to respond, but before I can get the words to come out, the little girl is entering the ring again.

  “Sorry, I have to go,” Hattie says, politely smiling at me. “But,” she says, turning back to me for one last glance. “Thank you for everything. It was good while it lasted.”

  Her boots crunch against the dry dirt as she high-fives the little one.

  It was good while it lasted.

  It was good while it lasted.

  It was good while it lasted.

  But why does it have to stop lasting? The ranch hasn’t gone under just yet.

  Either way, it was good while it lasted.

  The phrase tastes like poison on my tongue as I whisper it over and over to myself. Losing the ranch, Mary Jo’s dreams of not having something so big and necessary to care about anymore is heart-wrenching enough. But adding fuel to my own personal fire by losing Hattie? That I don’t want to even have to think about. Especially since I’d already let myself start envisioning a future with her in it, front and center.

  I stay and watch until the girl grows brave enough to let Hattie help her up on top of Oreo for a slow and steady trotting half-lap around the ring.

  I could be the man that stands up, goes out there, professes my love for her here on the spot. Here in front of the girl, Eliza and the rest of the wranglers, Oreo, the whole lot of them. But I don’t catch Hattie looking at me for the remainder of my time there, so I decide to let her be.

  I won’t fight her on it. If her decision is to continue safeguarding that graceful but broken heart of hers, I have to respect it. I can’t stand here and admit that I wouldn’t do the same if I was in her shoes. She’s been through a lot in life, and she shouldn’t have to deal with any other type of loss if she doesn’t have to.

  Turning, I head back to the four-wheeler a wounded man. A bruised ego with shattered pieces of my heart jiggling around inside me like glass. But all in God’s time.

  Reaching over into the holder in the ATV, I grab the block of notes and the ink pen, jotting something. I peel the first sheet up and toss the block back into the vehicle. Insid
e the stable, I head straight to the tack room and slap the sticky note right above the lines of rope.

  “I’m sorry, Handful,” it reads.

  Before I head back out of the stable and climb on the ATV, I hear my phone ringing from my pocket. I imagine it’s Mason asking where in the world I am, but he’d have called me on the two-way. The number is one I don’t recognize even though it’s local. For a second, I think it’s Alexis calling for another run-down on the ranch specifics before her tour later this week.

  “Hello?” a woman’s voice says. “Walker?”

  “Speaking,” I say, waiting for the person to identify herself.

  “Hey,” she sighs. “I’ve been waiting to hear your voice for so long now.”

  “I’m sorry?” I ask, pulling the phone away and glancing at the number again. “Who’s this?”

  She laughs. “Don’t be silly, Walk. It’s Torrence. I’ve really missed you.”

  “Torrence.” I breathe her name like it’s one I don’t know well even though I was married to her five years ago. “What are you doing calling?” I ask, the question sounding harsher than I’d meant it.

  “I just— you know, wanted to touch base and see if you’d be interested in going to dinner sometime.”

  Clearing my throat, I look back over to the riding ring where Hattie slowly leads Oreo along the inside fence with the girl happy as a clam as she clutches the reins up top.

  “I heard from a friend of a friend that Lexi was in touch with you and thought maybe we could reconnect.”

  The connection, now, makes sense. I met Alexis through one of Torrence’s friends. “After all these years?” I ask, completely dumbfounded that she’d be trying to contact me. “That’s why you’re calling?”

  “Yeah,” she purrs. “Isn’t that something?”

  “No, not really.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No, I meant I’m not interested in reconnecting, Torrence.” My heart growing hard and definitely not wanting any part of this, I tell her the truth. “Look, it’s nice to hear from you and all. And I’m glad that it sounds like you’re doing just fine, but I don’t think getting together and dredging up the past is gonna work too well for me.”

  “Oh,” she says, her voice just as flippant as ever. “Well, I was hoping we could—”

  “I’m sorry, Torrence, but that’s a no. You take care now, alright?” I say before ending the call, already at my wit’s end for the day.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Walker

  “Wow, those are some funny lookin’ creatures,” Alexis says from her spot next to me in the pickup truck as I drive her on the outskirts of the ranch.

  We slowly pass the chicken coops behind the Paisley Barn as the clouds finally give us some shade, having hidden the sun most of the day. I’d been giving Alexis the tour for most of the morning, me showing her the lay of the land on each wing of the ranch so she can get a genuine feel for what we have to offer here at Lone Oak.

  “You’d be right. They’re actually a newer type of breed to the poultry scene. They’re called Tolbunt Polish chickens.”

  “Cute,” she grins as we stop to watch Sophie round the hens back up into their coops like she considers it her full-time job.

  “And that there is Sophie Mae. She’s mine.”

  “Part of the Hayes clan, huh?”

  “That’s right.”

  Alexis sips from her reusable water bottle and screws the lid back on. “Speaking of Hayes’, I have to admit something to you. It’s not very professional, so please excuse me.”

  My eyebrows lift in anticipation. “What is it?”

  “One of my friends mentioned Torrence ended up reaching out to you at some point since we ran into each other. I guess she heard through the grapevine that I’d seen you, but I don’t want you to think I ran and told Torrence that myself.”

  “No,” I say with a shake of my head. “I mean, yes, she called. But I haven’t thought about it since.”

  “Oh, thank God. I didn’t want that to be awkward between us. I’m not friends with her anymore after she got caught in a few of her ridiculous situations a few years back, but I am still friends with a few of our mutuals.”

  “Well, thank you for saying something. But I honestly didn’t think twice.”

  “Okay. Fantastic then.” She takes another drink and pushes her face to the wind. “Now that that’s out of the way, I’m curious if you think Mrs. Reinholdt is really open to doing new things around here. I mean, I have a massive amount of ideas swarming my mind already. Just seeing everything laid out like this, it really gets my creative juices flowing.”

  Laughing, I nod. “Between you, me, and the lamppost, I’d say she’s open to doing nearly anything to keep the ranch running. As long as it’s not hurting anyone. What do you have in mind?”

  “Well, you have this beautiful property. I scoured through some of the online reviews of the ranch, and it’s pretty overwhelmingly evident that most of the guests wish there were even more activities to do on the premises. Aside from a meal or two out in Laramie, the guests seem to prefer staying on the ranch. And I know you guys offer guided hikes, riding lessons, barbecues, and the like. But some ideas I’ve come up with for other offerings are archery lessons, line dancing, mini-concerts with local musicians, movies on the lawn, yoga and meditation classes, maybe even a zip line or something of the sort.”

  Pulling my hat down, I nod. The amount of ideas she just shot off is remarkable.

  “And also, I realize Mrs. Reinholdt has hosted many different events on the farm. But really advertising those online— weddings, engagement parties, family reunions, and the like— could give us a real push into the event coordinating side of things, too. Now those are just a few off-the-wall ideas I’m throwing out. Anything to really bump up interest, especially in the younger generations.”

  Completely impressed at how the entire conversation with Alexis has been going so far, I tap the steering wheel and focus on the gravel road.

  “Then your next tier would be thinking about ramping up social media. You’ve got Facebook, Instagram, all the major platforms. I mean, I can see those Tolbunt Polish chickens growing up and flourishing on YouTube. If you get the right kind of viewers, Walker, they just love that stuff. It would help your ranch get the true social proof it needs in order to reach more people. Who runs that currently, by the way? Your social media.”

  Jogging my brain for the person who’s actually in charge of it, I come up blank. I rub a palm over the stubble on my jaw. “I know it’s someone, Alexis. But our social media presence is barely-there if I’m honest.”

  “That’s alright. Do you know how often you’re posting?”

  “If I had to bet I’d say two to three times a week.”

  Alexis cringes. “Ohh, yeah. We should bump that up to two to four times a day.”

  Looking over at her to see if she’s joking, I squint. “Really?”

  Smiling, she nods. “Though it depends on each platform. But the good thing is you literally have a limitless supply of content here on the ranch. You could feature guests, the parties you host, you could talk about your daily events, what life is like on the ranch. Heck, I’m not kidding. Those chickens would draw a huge online crowd if a campaign was executed correctly.”

  I chuckle at how effortless this is for her. “That all sounds fantastic,” I smirk. “Where do we sign?”

  “Uhh,” she laughs. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

  “Probably,” I admit, hooking a left and heading up the hill to the main house. “Let me get you up here to meet Mary Jo. She’ll enjoy some of these ideas, I’m sure.”

  “From what I’ve heard of her, she sounds really nice.”

  “She is. Speaking of,” I say, waving at her from where MJ rocks herself on the front porch. “You’ll love her.”

  It’s not long before I introduce the two. Alexis and I take up the two rockers next to MJ just as she offers us both an ice-co
ld glass of lemonade.

  With a sensitive heart but a steady tongue, I walk MJ through some of the ideas that Alexis had come up with on her tour across the property. Mary Jo finally sits back and starts enjoying herself once the new notions are all out in the open.

  “See? Nothing too drastic,” I tell her.

  MJ nods and folds her hands in her lap as Tipsy the cat mews from the other side of the screen door. “So how interested are you in coming to work for us?” MJ asks, surprising me at how quick she is to jump on it like that.

  Leaning forward, I shoot MJ a suspicious smile.

  “What? We want to snatch her up, don’t we?”

  In the distance, I spot Hattie walking with Eliza and Jordan as they cross the gravel road and head in the direction of the cafe for their morning break. Throwing a hand up, I wave. Eliza and Hattie both do the same which pulls at the few heartstrings I have left.

  A mere week ago when Hattie told me she didn’t want a relationship anymore, I decided that as hard as that is to accept, still just being able to see her is worth it. Even though I know I’m not a part of her life in the same way anymore.

  “You know, I’m quite the big city girl,” Alexis says, pulling my attention back to the matter at hand. “But to be fair, this ranch life seems to be calling to me for some reason. I didn’t think I’d feel that way initially. It wasn’t until Walker started showing me around. It’s beyond gorgeous here, Mrs. Reinholdt.”

  “Call me Mary Jo. MJ when you’re in a hurry.”

  “Okay, Mary Jo,” Alexis chuckles.

  “Well, if you’re interested, we’d like to offer you a position. We’ll draw up papers,” she says, astounding me once more. We’d talked about a new hire and how, exactly, that would work with our current finances, but the fact that she just right-out offered Alexis the position is truly noteworthy. It means she thinks a lot of her already. “Now the important question. When can you start?”

  Alexis beams. “You know, I’ll have to tie up some loose ends at Mipso’s, but I think I’d really love to take a look at those papers whenever they’re ready. Oops, speaking of loose ends,” she says, jolting up from the rocking chair. She sets her lemonade on the rail in front of her and pulls her cell phone from the crossbody purse she’s been wearing. “It’s probably my current work. I took a personal day today, but sometimes duty calls. Excuse me for a moment.” She hops down the porch stairs and answers the call.