Wannabe in Wyoming (Antelope Rock Book 1)

by J. B. Havens

  Jason—she still couldn’t allow herself to call him her dad—was a completely different person on paper than the people of Antelope Rock ever knew. He’d been a soulful man, passionately in love with the young woman he couldn’t be with, and every letter left Willow gutted and in tears. The time frame between letters she’d read so far was as little as two days and as much as several months. There were only a few left. Some had only been a short paragraph or two, while others had been longer, but all of them were of him professing his love to her mother. A few letters detailed the goings-on around the ranch and town and what his plans were for building a life there with the woman he loved when they were finally able to be together again.

  October 15th

  My beloved Cherry,

  I’m in such shock, my hand is shaking as I write this. A baby? You’re pregnant with my child? At first I thought my cousin Aaron was joking when he called a few hours ago to tell me the news, but he convinced me he was serious. Sweetheart, oh how I wish I could be there for you. From my estimate, you’re about eight months along. I’m trying to picture your rounded belly, and the image I have in my head is beautiful, though I’m sure my imagination can’t do the reality justice.

  I thought my heart was broken before, but knowing you’re pregnant with our child and I’m not there by your side . . . I don’t have words for what I’m feeling right now. Rage, hurt, and sorrow to the very pit of my soul. I still don’t regret making love to you, but knowing you’re carrying a piece of us both elates me even as it slays me. I feel dead inside sometimes, Cherry. Can a man die of heartbreak? I don’t know, but the only thing keeping me going is thinking of you—even though thoughts of you bring me more pain.

  While trying to concentrate on finishing my work, I had a daydream about you like I always do, only this time, you cursed me. You stood before me, swollen with child, and instead of love in your eyes, it was hate. Is that our future? Will you grow to despise me? Will our child?

  I’m so lonely without you, Cherry. So very lonely. Uncle Simon introduced me to a girl at a church function the other day. I’d call her a woman, since she’s my age, but she doesn’t act like one. Her name is Chasity Jenkins. She’s tiny, blonde, and giggles at everything I say, even when I’m not trying to be funny. She doesn’t hold a candle to you, in either the beauty or brains department. Uncle Simon wants me to date her—apparently her parents approve of me too—but I can’t bring myself to even think of someone else that way. To have someone who isn’t you in my bed would be a betrayal of everything I feel for you. Even now, when I’m so scared my stomach is in knots.

  I hate this. I HATE it. I need to be there with you, with our family. I need to support you and hold you. I’m a bastard, and I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me, but if I came back to Philly to be with you, I’d be thrown in jail. The baby is all the proof they’d need to toss away the key.

  I’m a coward. I should send this letter. You need to know you’re not alone, even if I can only be there is spirit. You need to know I still love you. I still want you, and now, our child, in my life.

  I can’t write anymore. Not tonight and maybe not for a while. It hurts too much.

  J

  Willow put the letter back and took out the next one. No tears came this time, but her heart ached for both Jason and her mother. It was so unfair. She also now had an inkling of why the restaurant owner had been so hostile to her while Willow and Nathan had been on their date. Either her father hadn’t gone through with dating Chasity, or he’d started a relationship with her and it’d ended badly. Willow had meant to ask Jeremiah about the woman, but then forgot with all the work that’d needed to be done to prepare for the arrival of her new animals and foreman.

  Instead of stopping after just one letter this time, curiosity won out over her feelings, and she opened the next envelope. It would be the first time she’d be reading them back-to-back, but she suddenly needed to know what happened next in her father’s life. “I’m going to keep going, okay?”

  “I’m here, Wannabe.” Nathan’s steady calm presence grounded her, even if he was on the other side of the computer screen.

  December 1st

  Dearest Cherry,

  Have you forgotten me? Did you have our baby yet? Is it a boy or girl? Did you scream my name as the labor pains became unbearable? Did you think of me when you named our child? Were you forced to give him or her up? I wish I could’ve had the courage to be there for you and that Fate hadn’t been so cruel as to keep me away from you.

  I love you, but I don’t deserve you. I doubt I ever did. I’m sorry, my sweet Cherry.

  J

  November 9th

  Cherry,

  It’s been seven years since I’ve written to you. Seven very long years. I had to put you out of my mind. I had to. I was drowning in memories, swallowed up by grief. I forced myself to focus on my work and building a life here. If I dwelled on you and our child, I would’ve lost my mind. I was going crazy. For a while there, my work had suffered, and Uncle Simon and I had argued over it, until words were no longer enough. There were punches thrown and tears shed, but he finally set me straight. You are there and I am here. Nothing was going to change that. I was so naive. Who can wait twelve years for the love of their life? Twelve years is a lifetime.

  Aaron called me today. I haven’t spoken to him in a long time, but he told me about Willow, our daughter. I have a daughter! I bet she’s as beautiful as you. But he also told me about your engagement. It hurt. After all this time, it still feels worse than I can describe.

  Uncle Simon passed away about eighteen months ago, leaving me the sole heir to his cattle ranch. This will be my legacy now—this and Willow. I’m not worthy of either of them, but at least I’ll be able to nurture one.

  I’ve made a choice. I can’t pine for you forever, especially since you’ve moved on. I’m going to ask Chasity Jenkins to marry me. She’ll make a good ranch wife. She knows what to expect. I don’t love her, but I care about her enough to marry her. Mostly, I’m lonely. And I’m tired of being lonely.

  Goodbye, Cherry.

  J

  May 29th

  Dearest Cherry,

  Chasity left me today—ironically, eleven years to the day I had to leave you. I came in from checking the cattle and found her standing in front of the fireplace, holding the cigar box I keep my letters to you in. She’d already burned the movie ticket stubs and all but one of the pictures I still had of you and I, after she’d read the last letter I’d written you. She screamed at me and threw things. Thankfully, I grabbed the letters before they ended up in ashes too—like my marriage—like everything I touch besides this damn ranch.

  I feel bad for hurting her, but it’s probably better this way, for her to know the truth—I have a daughter, and my heart has always belonged to another, and always will. I hate to say it, but I was never a good husband to her. In fact, I haven’t been a good man all these years without you. Between my mean streak and my refusal to father any children with her, and now this—she had her fill of me. I let her go without a fight. You were the only woman for me, and no substitute, no matter how pretty and sweet, will ever fill the void you left in my heart and soul.

  I hope you’ve found happiness. Aaron moved to California a long time ago, and my folks have been in Florida for the past eight years. I don’t know anyone in Philly anymore—at least not someone I can call up out of the blue and ask about you. It’s better not to know I think. This way, I can imagine you and our daughter laughing and happy. We missed our chance, Cherry baby, but I still don’t regret the time I had with you. Those memories will have to carry me forward through the rest of my days.

  Always yours, forever,

  J

  There was only one letter remaining in the box. Lifting it free, Willow noticed the envelope was different from the others, newer, and scrawled on the front, in the now familiar script of her father, was Willow Crawford (Hillcrest).

  She dropped it like
it had burned her. “No way am I doing this right now! Fuck that. Fuck this. Nope. All the nopes!”

  She didn’t have the emotional fortitude to open that envelope.

  “Baby, talk to me.” Clearly worried, Nathan leaned closer to the screen, as if he could crawl through and gather her into his arms.

  Shaking her head, she closed the box. “There isn’t anything to say. His last letter is addressed to me, and I’m not reading it. Not now, maybe never.” Meeting his eyes, she wished with all her heart he was with her. In that second, she knew she would fight for him, for them. The next time he was here, she wasn’t going to let fear and doubts rule her, she was going to tell him how she felt and ask him to move to the ranch when his time in the army was complete. She wanted to ask him in person though—not when he was hundreds of miles away. “Nathan? When can you come back to Wyoming?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  It’d been two weeks since Nathan had returned to Kansas, and Willow was finally falling back into a normal routine. Jeremiah had been her rock, streamlining the renovations of the horse barn and making certain the larger barn was ready for the alpacas. They’d gotten the concrete floor installed last week, just before the weather began dropping below freezing after the sun went down. The first snowfall had come last night, and she’d woken up to find the fields covered in a sparkling blanket of white. It looked like a beautiful postcard, far different from the slush and dirty snow she had been used to in Philadelphia. Today felt like a new beginning—fresh, clean, and inspiring—which fit, because the alpacas and horses would be arriving any minute.

  It was just after noon, as she stood on the front porch, with her hands buried deep in her coat pockets, a bright pink beanie on her head. Jeremiah had laughed when he’d seen her shoveling the porches and walkways that morning when he’d stopped by to plow her lane. He was dressed in Carhart work pants, boots, and a shearling lined coat, topped off with his tan, everyday cowboy hat. She’d smirked and said, “Not all of us can look like Wyoming fashion plates. I’m still just a girl from Philly.” Shoveling and salting the walkways around the house and over to the barn had been a lesson she hadn’t known she’d be getting. In Philly, the city workers cleared the snow away. She hadn’t even owned a snow shovel until a week ago when she’d heard the news of the pending storm, and she’d gone to Ducky’s to get one. Thankfully, the snow had stopped coming down just before dawn. Her shoulders and arms ached, and she hated that she’d felt freezing cold even as she was sweating. What she wouldn’t give right now to be sitting on her couch with Nathan, warming themselves in front of a roaring fire. Last week, she’d arranged to have several cords of cut firewood delivered at Jeremiah’s suggestion. She needed extra logs available in case she ever lost electricity and had to stay warm during the colder months until it came back on.

  The roar of an engine broke the silence, and she grinned at the sight of a huge black truck hauling a livestock trailer, led by Jeremiah in her own white truck, pulling a second trailer. She hadn’t made the trip with him because she’d needed to stay behind and get the barns warm and lay down straw bedding which Jeremiah’s ranch hands had delivered early that morning. After the alpacas, goats, and horses were settled, Willow and Jeremiah would go back with Dale to pick up the fifth-wheel, the ATVs, and the feed.

  Stepping off the porch and into the snow, she walked down the freshly shoveled path, to the alpaca barn, anxious to see her new herd. The larger pasture was for the females, and a second, smaller one for the male was directly adjacent to it. That way, the animals could socialize as they were accustomed to, but their breeding could still be controlled. When they did the renovations to the horse barn, they’d also added a second, separate entrance to the alpaca barn, so the male could go in and out while remaining apart from the females.

  Dale made a wide turn and then backed up the trailer to the barn with the ease of life-long practice. Eventually, she’d learn how to do that, but it was better left for another time and an empty trailer.

  Climbing down from the cab, he was followed immediately by Johnny and June, who wasted no time, running directly to Willow to greet her. As she scratched their ears, Dale waved her forward. “Come on—let’s get them unloaded and into their new home.”

  Nearly bouncing with excitement, she quickly pulled her phone from her pocket and snapped a selfie with the barn and truck behind her, grinning broadly and giving a thumbs up. Nathan had requested pictures of her big day. If he couldn’t be here with her in person, she was going to do what she could to share this event with him, since he’d been so supportive of her new venture.

  Smiling at her enthusiasm, Dale opened the barn doors and stood to the side, waiting for Jeremiah to join them. “I figured we’d unload the alpacas and goats first, then the horses.”

  Loud shuffling of feet and baaing of goats split the air. “Sounds like they’re ready to get out of there,” Willow said. “Tell me what to do. When it comes to this kind of thing, I bow to your superior knowledge.”

  “Stand to the side where you are, and I’ll stay here, while Jeremiah opens the trailer. Our job is to make sure they don’t panic and run off. Johnny and June will help herd them. In my experience, they follow the leader and go right in. Cattle are similar, right, Jeremiah?”

  “Yeah, just meaner.” Her friend stood beside the trailer door, his expression unreadable under his hat brim.

  “You’ve never had an alpaca spit on you, have you?”

  “Can’t say that I have, Dale. But why don’t we get this done? Still a lot to do and I have my own ranch to think of too,” Jeremiah snapped in an uncharacteristic display of temper. Willow frowned at him, but he didn’t look in her direction. “Ready?”

  Dale nodded wordlessly, his mouth a grim line of displeasure. Clearly, Jeremiah’s ire wasn’t directed at her in any way. I’m staying out of it for now, she thought to herself. She had too much to do without playing referee or, heaven forbid, matchmaker.

  Jeremiah swung the door to the trailer open and eighteen fluffy, giant, irritated alpacas barreled out, followed by two noisy goats. As Dale had predicted, just standing to the side while the dogs did their thing was enough to keep the herd directed into the barn. Once the trailer was empty, Dale said, “Come on. We need to get Alfie and put him into his own pasture.”

  “If you two have this, I’m going to get the horses settled,” Jeremiah said, already walking backward away from them.

  “Thanks Jeremiah.” She’d never seen him like this. He’d been helping her a lot recently, but was she asking too much of him? She frowned at his back as he reached the horse trailer. He’d been doing so much for her, and she hadn’t returned the favor, aside from sharing a few meals with him. Vowing to treat him to a new hat or something, she returned her attention to her foreman.

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s me he’s pissed at, not you,” Dale said, handing her a lead rope and glancing over at Jeremiah unloading the horses. “He’s right though—there is still a lot to be done. Let’s get these guys taken care of.”

  Willow worked side-by-side with Dale and Jeremiah for hours, taking the second trip back and forth from Redworth with them. All the animals were finally settled in their respective barns and stalls, cozy, warm, and fed. The feed and ATVs were stored, and all that was left to do was help Dale get his trailer in place.

  Jeremiah stood next to her, as the wind, now biting and frigid, blew flurries into their faces. Willow was tired, and her temper was on a short fuse. The men had been sniping and bickering at each other for hours, and she’d had just about enough of their shit.

  Raising her hand, she motioned to Dale, directing him as he backed his RV into the sheltered area between the barns. He would be close to the animals and have a measure of privacy from the house. Willow had hired a contractor to come to the ranch last week to run electrical, water, and sewer lines from the existing systems, so they could be connected to the fifth wheel. If all went well, she’d look into getting a prefab cottage for hi
m in the spring that they could set further away from the house to give both of them more privacy.

  “What is your problem today?” she demanded of her friend who stood several feet away, watching the other side of the RV as it was backed into place.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m frozen solid and exhausted—maybe that’s my problem?”

  “Too fucking bad, princess. This isn’t like you. You’re my best friend—you’ve been here for me ever since I moved in—now let me be here for you.” She met his eyes briefly, before waving Dale over to the right a bit.

  Jeremiah sighed heavily, and chagrin flooded his face. “Willow-girl, I’m fine really. I’m just beat—it’s been a long day, and he gets under my skin. Don’t worry about it.”

  Not believing him for a second, she decided to let it go. He was a grown man, and if he said he was fine, well, there wasn’t much she could do about it now.