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Wannabe in Wyoming (Antelope Rock Book 1)

Page 3

by J. B. Havens


  After arranging to have the furniture and appliances delivered and installed as soon as possible, she made the long drive back to the ranch. She switched radio stations often, searching for something that wasn’t new-age country music and didn’t have much luck. She only liked old-school country singers like Cash, Haggard, and Hank Williams Jr. Finally giving up, she connected her music app to the radio via Bluetooth and set the vehicle’s cruise control. Rolling down the windows, she sang along with her favorite mix playlist, not caring at all that it switched from Etta James to Eminem to Frank Sinatra and onto DMX.

  Forty minutes later, she turned down the dirt lane to the property she now owned, passing under the ranch sign and continuing to the house. There was a red pickup parked in front next to her Chevy, and she slowed, approaching cautiously.

  “What the hell?” she muttered since she wasn’t expecting anyone. Her confusion eased when she noted the lettering on the strange vehicle’s tailgate that read “JP Ranch.” It must belong to Jeremiah Urban, her new neighbor.

  Willow parked, turned off the truck, and climbed out, deciding to leave her bags for now. She glanced around but didn’t see anyone. “Hello!” she called out walking around to the back of the house. “Can I help you?”

  A figure emerged from around the side of the larger of the two barns. All she could make out from the distance between them was that he was average in height and sported a tan cowboy hat and dark jeans. He waved and hurried over to her. If he was taken aback by her pink hair and tattoos, he didn’t show it.

  As he drew closer, she noted he was about forty years old, and as he took off his hat, she was able to see that he had dark red hair and sharp features. A thick reddish-brown scruff covered his jaw. While he had white streaks near his temples and a little in his beard, it only made him more attractive. He was lean but roped with muscle, and she doubted there was an ounce of fat on him.

  “Howdy, ma’am. I’m Jeremiah Urban. I talked to Howard, and he told me you’d like to sell your father’s cattle and horses to me. I just wanted to introduce myself and take a gander around here. Jason wasn’t too keen on visitors. I can see why you’d want to sell, if that’s what you’re planning on doing. This place needs too much work right now to be suitable for any animals.”

  He’d stuck one hand out and taken off his hat with the other, all while keeping up a running dialogue. He was friendly enough, but she got the impression he was of the type to talk your ear off if he got the chance.

  She shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you––I’m Willow Crawford. Considering I don’t know the first thing about taking care of cattle or horses, I’d be selling to you even if this place was in perfect shape. I haven’t decided what I want to do with it yet, but for now, I just want to focus on bringing it into the twenty-first century. Then I’ll go from there.”

  The man grinned. “Fair enough. Howard said you agreed with the price I quoted, so I’ll have a check for you by the end of the week, if that suits you. Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime? Being out here in a new place all alone must be a shock for ya. We were all surprised to find out you existed. No one at the Rock had any clue the old bastard had any kin.” He slapped his hat against his thigh and settled it back onto his head, talking non-stop all the while. “Pardon my French, ma’am, I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but your father was a mean cuss when he had a mind to be, which was often.”

  “I never knew him, so I’ll take your word for it.” She shrugged and quickly changed the subject before he could start up again. “I was wondering, do you happen to know a few men who wouldn’t mind making some extra cash? I need to clear out a lot of junk and old furniture from inside the house. I’ll be renting a roll-away dumpster and could use a hand. I also need someone who could tell me about the equipment in the two barns. I don’t know what’s useable or what’s just scrap.”

  “Oh, sure thing! I got myself a couple ranch hands who would be glad to help out, you just let me know when. Most folks around here are willing to help out for free. Neighbors gotta take care of each other, ya know? But if you’re willing to pay cash, you’ll have a crew here in no time. Especially for easy work like hauling broken couches, or what not.”

  Hauling furniture was easy work? Though she supposed compared to ranch work, it must seem that way. “Great. I’ll be in touch soon. I’m going to call and make the arrangements for the dumpster today. I have new furniture and appliances being delivered in three days, so I’d need the help pretty soon, if that works.”

  “Did Howard give you my number?”

  “Yes, he did. Yours is at the top of a very long list.”

  He chuckled. “I’m sure. Howard takes good care of his clients. Well, you just call me anytime, as soon as you have a day and time. I can get five or six guys here and have this place cleaned out in an afternoon, after they’re done working at the ranch. While they haul the junk out, you and I can take a look at the barns, and I’ll help you decide what to keep and what to get rid of. Does that work for you?”

  His offer to help took a load off her mind. The smaller of the two barns on the property was full of equipment she didn’t know the names of or what they were used for and one of the things she hadn’t been looking forward to confronting on her own. “Yes, thank you so much.” He looked as if he was about to open his mouth and continue the conversation, but she was anxious to get her bags inside and set up the house more. “I’ll be in touch later today. I have a whole list of calls I need to make and a lot more cleaning to tackle.” She hoped her dismissal was polite enough because he was a nice man, and if they were going to be neighbors for however long she would be there, she didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with him.

  Jeremiah smiled and tipped his cowboy hat to her. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll talk soon.”

  Chapter Four

  June 1

  Dear Any Soldier,

  Hi, my name is Willow, and I wanted to take a moment to thank you for your service. It’s very much appreciated. It must be hard on you being away from your family and friends for long periods of time, and I hope this letter brightens your day.

  I’m probably not supposed to ask where you’re stationed or deployed, so I won’t. I’ll just assume you’re somewhere on the other side of the world and pray you’re safe.

  I guess I should tell you a little about myself. I’m thirty-three years old and originally from Philadelphia, where I’d lived my entire life until three weeks ago. That’s when I found out I’d inherited a ranch in Wyoming, of all places. Talk about a culture shock. This little podunk town has a population of just under 1000 people, and everyone seems to know everyone else. I probably had that many people living within a two-block radius of me back in Philly, and no one knew who any of their neighbors were beyond nodding hello as they passed each other on the street.

  I’ve spent the last few weeks doing an overhaul of the house here—it really needed it. I’d been hoping all it would need was a fresh coat of paint, but that turned out to be the least of my worries. The front porch needed major work—all new steps and most of the boards needed to be replaced. Thankfully, the supports were in good shape, so the whole thing didn’t need to be torn down. I even managed to save the old porch swing, sanding and refinishing it. I think I’ll rehang on the side porch though—it faces west—and get another one for the back porch. The painters come in a few days to re-paint the outside of the house. I picked a light green color—I think it’ll look nice against the blue sky.

  I also tackled the kitchen and two bathrooms and had a plumber and an electrician come in and update what needed to be. While there is still a lot to do in the three rooms, at least I can now say every surface has been bleached and disinfected, the water is clean, and the plugs are updated for the new appliances I ordered. Now I’m moving onto the rest of the house. Every room needs, at the very least, to be painted and new furniture and rugs.

  With the help of some local guys, I got rid of the old, very outdated f
urniture (think of the 1970s if you need a visual), junk that was lying around, and anything else I didn’t want to keep. There are a bunch of boxes and trunks left, mostly filled with papers and stuff, but I put them in the attic until I have more time to devote to going through them. Thank goodness I also now have satellite internet and TV access—it was really quiet here without them for the first two days. I’m learning a lot about living in the country, thanks to Google.

  Tomorrow, I’m going to do the craziest thing—well, at least the craziest thing I’ve ever done besides leaving Pennsylvania to move to Wyoming where I know absolutely no one. I’m going to buy some chickens! Me, the tattooed, pink-haired chick from Philly is going to get, well, some chicks (lol). Two of the guys who helped me clear out the house came by yesterday and fixed up the coop in the backyard for me and put up some new fencing around it. The other night, I spent three hours researching chickens, from which ones to get and what to feed them, to how to collect their eggs and know when there’s something wrong with them (just in case). There’s a local vet who deals with farm animals, so at least there’s someone nearby who I can consult with. I was surprised to learn you don’t need a rooster for the hens to lay eggs. You only need one if you want baby chicks. I’ll do without the rooster for now.

  I must be crazy (well, the last paragraph probably confirmed that), but I’m actually thinking about keeping the ranch. At first, I was seriously thinking of fixing it up to sell, but the longer I stay here, the more I like living out in the middle of nowhere. Weird, huh? There’s really no reason for me to go back to Philly other than it’s familiar. People move all the time and start over in new places, so why can’t I? The only thing is I’ll need to figure out what to do with all this land I now have (1200 freaking acres!). It used to be a cattle ranch, but I sold the last few cows, steers, and horses to my new neighbor, since I have no idea how to take care of them or what to do with them. He’d already been taking care of them, so it just made sense to let him buy them.

  I want to raise some animals or plant something I can sell, but this is all so new to me, and I have no clue how to be a rancher. If you have any ideas on what I could use the land for, I’m all ears.

  Oh, I forgot to mention. I have a new friend. He’s a white-tailed prairie dog that comes and hangs out on my back porch. After the third day of him showing up, I named him Fred. I had to take a picture of him with my phone to find out what in the world he was because, needless to say, we didn’t have prairie dogs back East. The guy who owns the feed store, whose name is Ducky—if you can believe that—gave me a quick education on them. Thankfully, they’re herbivores. I bought some seeds that Ducky said I could leave out for Fred. I can also give him some vegetables. From what I’m told, he probably has a family somewhere nearby, so I’m sure he’s sharing the meals with them. Maybe one of these days I’ll follow him and see where he lives.

  Anyway, I’m obviously rambling on about nothing, and I’m sure you have lots to do. If you want to write back, that’s great, but I’ll understand if you don’t. In the meantime, thank you, again, for your service, and I hope you’re back with your loved ones soon.

  Sincerely,

  Willow

  Wannabe Rancher

  P.S. - I know it would be easier to exchange email addresses to write back and forth, but if you don’t mind, I kind of like writing letters and mailing them the old-fashioned way. We did that when we adopted a soldier in my fourth-grade class, and it was so exciting when the teacher announced we had a letter from him each month.

  June 15

  Dear Wannabe (I love your name but got a kick out of Wannabe lol),

  Getting your letter did what you’d hoped it would—it brightened my day. And I don’t mind writing snail mail. You’re right—it is more exciting to receive a handwritten letter as opposed to an email. Getting letters here is like Christmas morning for us. A lot of the guys I know carry them around while on missions, so they always have that connection to their families. The Army is known for its ‘hurry up and wait’ attitude, so having letters to re-read during downtime is a treat.

  My name is Nathan, I’m thirty-three years old, and I grew up in a small town in Colorado that sounds a lot like where you’re living now. There are good and bad things about small towns. One of the good things is neighbors help out neighbors without batting an eye. One of the bad things though is the gossip. The minute you let anyone know a secret there, it’ll be running through the rumor mill faster than you can say, “Don’t tell anyone.”

  You didn’t say who you inherited the ranch from, but I assume that means someone close to you passed away and left it to you in their will. I’m sorry for your loss.

  It sounds like you’ve done a lot of work on the place already and have plenty more to do. With 1200 acres there are a few animals you can raise other than cattle. Hogs and sheep come to mind. The hogs and lambs (baby sheep) would need to be slaughtered for their meat, and I’m not sure if you’re up to doing that (I know I wouldn’t be), but sheep and llama farms are known for their wool or fiber, and you don’t have to kill the animals to get it. Either way, you’d have to research what you would need in order to raise any of those animals. You’ll also need to hire people to work for you to maintain the herd, since it’s not as simple as just giving them food and water. As for crops, there are a few options for you there too. I looked it up (thank you, Google), and it seems like hay, barley, wheat, beans, and corn are the main crops grown in Wyoming. Again, you’ll have to research them and will likely need to hire at least a few people to help you throughout the different seasons.

  Speaking of Wyoming, isn’t it beautiful there? I was only there once, the summer between my junior and senior years in high school. My friend’s parents took us and another friend camping in Glendo State Park. I’m not sure how close that is to you, but it’s gorgeous. If you get a chance, you should visit it. That was a great trip. Even though his parents were with us, they were cool, and we had an amazing time.

  How are the chickens doing? Glad to hear you didn’t get a rooster since you don’t need one yet. Those damn things wake you up at the ass-crack of dawn. Not to mention they can be mean little bastards sometimes—actually, most of the time.

  What tattoos do you have? I have two—a Celtic cross above my left shoulder blade and Celtic knot over my heart. I’m Irish by the way.

  Tell me about the town you live in now. Does it have a hamburger joint on the edge of town that has the greasiest yet most delicious burgers and fries? Oh, and don’t forget a chocolate shake! How about a town square with a gazebo? A movie theater that only shows one movie at a time or is there a drive-in nearby? If it’s like the small town I grew up in, you’ll probably be having a parade and/or carnival coming up for the 4th of July weekend. I’d love to see pictures of it if you take any. When I was growing up, I couldn’t wait to be old enough to move to a city, or at least a much bigger town, but now there’s so much I miss about living in a small town. I guess your perception of things changes as you get older.

  Well, I’m heading over to the mess hall to grab some dinner. Hope to hear from you again soon. Tell Fred I said hello.

  Sincerely,

  Nathan

  Pen Pal Extraordinaire

  Chapter Five

  June 29

  Dear PP Extraordinaire (I like your name too, but the nickname gave me the giggles.)

  Thank you for writing back. I was so excited to see a handwritten envelope in my mailbox. Yours has the honor of being the first one I’ve ever received at this address! Congratulations! You win two-thumbs up and a huge smile! Sorry it couldn’t be more. LOL.

  I wanted to respond the other day, right after I got your letter, but I’ve been so exhausted every night after working all day. I didn’t have the energy to do more than fall asleep right after dinner. I’m proud to say I’ve become an expert (sort of) on hammers, nails, screwdrivers, and drills. I also have a new personal library of how-to books for plumbing, electrical, woodwork
ing, tile, general home improvements, and more. A lot of it is gibberish to me, but at least there are a bunch of things I can do now instead of paying someone to do them for me.

  My chickens have settled in, and last Saturday morning I got to eat my very first fresh-from-the-chicken-coop egg. I don’t know if I’m imagining things, but damn those things are better than any other egg I’ve ever had. Not to mention, the yolk is such a dark yellow! I always figured an egg was an egg, but apparently not. I also learned that I don’t have to refrigerate them as long as I don’t wash them after I collect them. That’s taking a lot longer to get used to. I keep thinking I’m going to get salmonella if I don’t put them in the fridge. How’s the food where you are? I’ve heard about those MREs, and I hope you’re not living on those. They sound pretty nasty.

 

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