Fall Fireside

by Liz Isaacson

  On the east side, away from the homestead and the main road onto the property, a row of four cabins stood. Clay lived by himself, in a cabin shaded by huge trees. Newt and Wyatt lived next door. Flynn could’ve lived in one of the cabins, but he’d opted out of the room and board part of the pay scale at the ranch.

  Steven and Taylor lived in the cabin beside Newt and Wyatt, and the last cabin on the opposite end from Clay was filled with Gil and Monson. Only Clay lived alone, and he didn’t entirely hate it.

  He’d been doing everything alone in his life. With his next older sibling thirteen years older than him, he’d grown up as an only child. Essentially. His father had died when he was fourteen, and his mother had passed when he was twenty-five. He’d come to Idaho then, unable to stay in the state of Wyoming without any reason to do so.

  His brothers weren’t that interested in him, as they had their own lives, their own families, and their own ranches to deal with.

  Clay pushed the thoughts away. He hated dwelling on the first twenty-five years of his life. Sure, he had had some happy memories, but the negative ones always seemed to outweigh the positive.

  The congregation stood to sing, and Clay scrambled to his feet, trying to figure out which song they were singing. Cami held the book in front of her, moving it over so it was between them. He took the right side of it, wishing he could curl his fingers around hers.

  Maybe.

  Clay was extraordinarily bad with women, and that had probably contributed to him asking Cami for a date and then never setting anything up. He hadn’t been out with anyone in a few years now, and sometimes he wondered if he even had his whole heart to give. Or if he even knew how to love someone else.

  Loneliness etched its way through him, scratching his heart. His pulse picked up as the song finished.

  As they sat back down, more room was made, and Cami didn’t have to lean quite so far into him. A pang of regret hit him, because it sure had been nice to have that human touch. She looked at him, a smile quickly brightening her face.

  Clay returned it, a silent prayer now streaming through his mind that he would know what to do when it came to Cami Quinn.

  Please, Lord, he thought. It would be nice to have a female in my life again.

  Clay woke the next morning with the sun, as usual. He didn’t work every Sabbath Day, but someone had to do the basic chores. The five full-time cowboys on the ranch took turns, and along with Rhodes, that meant they only had to work one out of every three Sundays.

  Today was one of Clay’s, and he found Newt out on his front porch when he went outside. “Mornin,” he called to the cabin one over.

  “Yep,” Newt said, so not a morning person. Clay smiled as he trucked down his front steps. He didn’t understand a cowboy who didn’t like getting up before dawn, but Newt seemed to make things work nonetheless.

  “Small animals or big?” he asked as he climbed Newt’s steps. The man handed him a cup of coffee, their Sabbath Day routine.

  “I’ll take the big ones today,” Newt said.

  Clay nodded, because he didn’t care if he fed chickens or horses. Sometimes he’d talk to the horses, and that was nice, but he could share his secrets with the cluckers too. They didn’t spread gossip, though they did squabble a lot.

  The air held the hint of pine in it today, and Clay thought it would be jacket weather before long.

  “How was the fireside?” Newt asked, and Clay almost slopped his coffee over the back of his hand.

  “Great,” he managed to say. “How was your date with Jo?”

  “Great,” he said, but his voice sounded hollow and flat.

  “Really?”

  “I hate the carnival,” he said. “Fair. Whatever. It’s all too noisy and too many people.” Newt shook his head. “But Jo’s nice. I’ll probably go out with her again.” Newt had met the woman online, and she lived in Lewiston, about an hour away from Quinn Valley.

  “Hmm,” Clay said, already thinking about his “date” with Cami that afternoon. He’d stopped at the grocery store after the fireside last night, and he felt confident he could put together something edible.

  “All right.” Newt groaned as he stood up. “Let’s get this done so I can go back to bed.”

  Clay chuckled as he set his coffee mug next to Newt’s on the porch railing. They loaded into the side-by-side parked between their cabins and Newt drove them over to the barns. He’d feed and water the horses and cows, putting the ones out to pasture that needed it. Clay would take care of the barn cats, the goats, the chickens, the pigs, and move over to the bulls.

  They’d meet there and make sure everyone was fed and everything was done before calling their morning chores complete. Clay would text Rhodes, and he’d hurry home to shower before church.

  Church.

  With Cami.

  That was a little forward, he knew. The Quinn sisters didn’t seem to sit with their boyfriends until they were wearing diamonds, and Clay’s throat turned dry at the very thought of having a relationship so serious that there might be jewelry involved.

  He moved through the chores, sprinkling the feed and filling water troughs. Sweat beaded beneath his hat, and while it was September, the sun was still out in full force. By the time he made it to the bullpens, his fingers ached, and he regretted not taking any painkiller before leaving his cabin.

  His mother had had severe arthritis, and Clay had inherited that from her. Too many small motor movements made his wrists and fingers hurt, but he knew how to take care of himself. He just had to do it.

  His phone buzzed in his back pocket, and he pulled it out to check it. He expected to see Rhodes’s name on the screen, but it was his sister’s.

  Cami.

  Clay’s breath caught in his throat, and he swiped the message open to read the whole thing. Hey, sorry, but we always eat lunch as a family after church, and I feel weird saying I’m going to your place.

  “She’s cancelling,” he whispered to himself. He looked up and toward the homestead, as if Cami would be standing on the front porch, texting him. Rejecting him.

  He looked back at the text. What was he supposed to say? Before he could think of anything, another one came in.

  Maybe we can have lunch another day?

  Sure, he typed out. Another day is fine.

  You tell me when works for you, she said. I’m at the homestead literally all the time.

  Clay’s heartbeat crashed around in his chest. Would he be too forward if he asked her to lunch tomorrow? He got a lunch break, and she could easily get to his cabin. No one else would have to know.

  Though why it would be a secret, he wasn’t sure about either.

  “You haven’t started yet?” Newt’s voice made Clay jump.

  Confused, and still with chores to do, he shoved his phone in his back pocket without replying to Cami. “Just starting now,” he said.

  “Who were you texting?” Newt asked.

  “No one,” Clay said, though Cami was definitely someone.

  “Well, when you text Rhodes, tell him Chocolate Shadow is acting up again. Thrown his shoes during the night and kicking the wall.”

  Clay sighed. “That horse.”

  “Yeah, well, Rhodes can come sleep with him to make sure he doesn’t panic in the night,” Newt said darkly. “I told him that horse was trouble.” He pulled the hose over to the trough and began filling it.

  Clay laughed, because Newt really was a mystery to him. He was a cowboy who hated getting up early and didn’t seem to like horses. Clay shook his head and went to help feed the bulls. At least his thoughts were on something besides Cami now, though he couldn’t help hoping that they might still be able to sit together at church.

  A fool’s hope, he told himself. If she’d cancelled lunch because she didn’t want to tell her family, she wasn’t going to drag all of her sisters over to his side of the chapel to sit by him.

  Nope, that so wasn’t going to happen.

  Chapter 3

&nb
sp; Cami stared at her phone, willing Clay to invite her to lunch tomorrow. Or Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Any day besides Sunday would’ve worked—and she would’ve said yes.

  Her phone stayed stubbornly silent.

  She didn’t want to attend another religious event. There was another fireside that night, one tomorrow night, and one on Wednesday. Cami had participated and enjoyed the fall fireside series in the past, but this year she felt stuck.

  Disappointment cut through her, and she got in the shower so she’d have something to focus on besides Clay’s refusal to set up another date. But she couldn’t remember if she’d washed her hair or not, so she washed it again. By the time she went upstairs, she wasn’t even sure she had two of the same shoe on.

  “Morning,” Betsy chirped with a smile. “There’s oatmeal on the stove. You’re running a bit late, aren’t you?”

  “Am I?” Cami never ran late. She never missed meetings or deadlines. Numbers and schedules had always appealed to her, and they made sense, always aligning perfectly. She glanced at the clock and saw that yes, she was running late. The sisters would leave for church in fifteen minutes, and she hadn’t eaten or done her makeup. Or had she?

  She reached up and touched her face, and no, she didn’t feel any powder. So no makeup. And she had a choice to make. Food or beauty.

  “Be right back,” she said, dashing for the stairs again. It was a thirty-minute drive to church. She could grab a granola bar on the way out the door, but she hated doing her eyeliner on the bumpy roads that led to town.

  So she brushed and swished, glossed and glistened, until she could look at Clay with a fresh face. Maybe she’d be brave enough to ask him why he hadn’t suggested tomorrow for their lunch date. And if she was feeling really courageous, she’d ask him if he really wanted to go out with her. In her experience, the men who truly wanted to see her, called. They texted. They asked her what she was most interested in and what she liked to eat and when they could come pick her up.

  When, not if.

  Clay didn’t do any of those things, and Cami’s frustration with the handsome cowboy reached an all-time high. “Maybe he’s not really interested,” she said to her reflection. Or maybe he was at first, but her allure had worn off—just like always. Just like with every other man she’d been out with in the past year. Maybe two years.

  “Cami, we’re leaving,” Jess called from upstairs, and Cami took one last look at herself in the mirror.

  “Be brave,” she whispered, and then she hurried up the steps and into the kitchen. She grabbed a breakfast bar from the pantry and ran out the back door. She hated being the last one into the truck, because then she had to climb in the backseat in a skirt and heels.

  “You look cute today,” Georgia said from behind the wheel.

  “Thanks,” Cami said, though she wasn’t going for cute. She was going for pretty. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Cute was for eleven-year-olds, and Cami was twenty-seven-years-old, for crying out loud.

  She munched through her fruit and grain bar on the way to church, listening to Betsy’s stories about Knox’s work on other farms and ranches. Jess had tons of good stories about Flynn and his new ranch too, and Cami liked gabbing with her sisters.

  They made it to church, and they all piled out of the truck, still talking a mile a minute. She trailed behind when she saw Clay’s truck parked in the row over from her—and he was still sitting behind the wheel. Part of her wanted to march over there and knock on the window. The other part wanted to duck her head, tuck her hair, and accept her losses.

  “Jess,” she said, and her sister turned toward her.

  “Yeah?”

  “I need some help.” She glanced at Betsy and Georgia, both of whom had heard her.

  “Help with what?” Georgia asked.

  “It’s a guy thing,” she said, not wanting to make a scene. “Clay asked me to lunch today, but we always eat as a family, so I said I couldn’t. Then I said another day could work, and he didn’t respond.”

  “He’s so clueless sometimes,” Jess said.

  “He asked me out weeks ago,” Cami said, lowering her voice as a family passed them. “And never set anything up. He’s probably not interested, right?”

  “He’s interested,” Jess said. “He’s just…shy.”

  “Shy?” Cami shook her head. “He’s sitting in his truck right over there. Let’s take a vote. Raise your hand if you think I should go talk to him right now and find out if he really wants to go out with me.”

  All three of her sister’s hands went up. She groaned. “I was hoping you’d vote no to that.”

  Jessie smiled at her and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You go over there, and you ask him to lunch tomorrow. If he says yes, he’s interested.”

  “What if he’s busy?” Georgia asked. “That’s not an indicator of his interest.”

  “What is, then?” Cami asked.

  “I heard he had his arm around you at the fireside last night,” Betsy said with a glint in her eye.

  Alarm pulled through Cami. “What? Where did you hear that?”

  “Oh, I took some cookies to Granny last night, after you guys got home.”

  “It was nothing,” Cami said, not liking the way her sisters were looking at her. “Seriously. We were packed on that bench, and it was the only way to fit.” It had felt nice with his arm around her though.

  “We voted,” Georgia said. “Go.” She nudged Cami toward Clay’s truck, but the bells started ringing.

  “We’ll be late,” Cami said. “I’ll talk to him after the service.” She cast one last look behind her, toward Clay’s truck, and saw him slide out of the front seat, his phone at his ear. He was too far away for her to hear what he was saying, and she turned away from him quickly so he wouldn’t catch her staring at him.

  After all, things between them were already awkward enough.

  Cami wanted to leave the chapel as soon as she’d sat down. She’d heard people complain about being a third wheel or a fifth wheel, but she was the ninth wheel in her family, and it was as horrible as it sounded.

  Her hip hurt from where she was smashed into the end of the pew, and the reverend was talking for a long time today. How he could give so many speeches was beyond Cami, but she liked numbers and figures for a reason. They didn’t talk back.

  Finally, the sermon ended, and people began filing out of the chapel. Cami stood up, ready to escape. Her bravery had failed; she would not be talking to Clay today.

  “Cami,” her brother said before she’d even taken a step.

  “Yeah?”

  “I need to talk to you about something.”

  She waited for her sisters to go ahead, and Rhodes asked, “Can you drive home with me?”

  She glanced at his fiancée, Capri. “Sure.” She smiled at her soon-to-be sister-in-law. “Is it bad?”

  “No, just a little project Rhodes has in mind.” Capri smiled at Cami. “He needs to know the cost and if it would be good for the ranch.”

  “If what would be good for the ranch?” Cami asked, looking between Rhodes and Capri. Almost everyone had left the chapel now, including Clay. So Cami didn’t have to admit her lack of courage. He’d simply left before she’d had the chance to grab him.

  Which was Rhodes’s fault, really.

  “I want to update and upgrade the irrigation system,” Rhodes said.

  Cami blinked. “Oh, wow.”

  “Yeah.” Rhodes grinned at her. “Let’s talk about it on the way back to the homestead. I’m starving.”

  “Betsy is going to pick up Knox,” Cami said. “We don’t have to hurry.”

  “Yes, we do,” Rhodes said. “Because then I can stop at my cabin and grab a snack before Betsy gets back.” He grinned at Cami and started up the aisle to the exit. He didn’t say anything else about this irrigation system he had in mind until the three of them were seated in the cab of his truck.

  “I want a cost analysis,” he said. “I want the well updated, and I need copies
of all of our water rights.” He continued on, talking about sprinklers and systems and what he envisioned for the ranch.

  Cami loved her older brother, and his drive for improving the ranch. His enthusiasm for the future was admirable, but a keen sense of being overwhelmed made her hold up her hand. “Rhodes, slow down,” she said. “You have plans for all of this?”

  “I’ve been working on it for a month or so,” he said. “Flynn has a great system out at his place, and Quinn Valley is in dire need of an upgrade.” He glanced at Cami. “I need to know how much it’s going to cost and if we can afford it.”

  “I’m not as familiar with the ranch as you are,” Cami said. “You’ll have to show me around, talk me through some things. Then I can do all the numbers, but my guess is we’ll be able to implement what you want.”

  “Yeah?” Rhodes looked and sounded so hopeful.

  “Yeah,” Cami said. “Leo was really great with the ranch finances.” In fact, all Cami was trying to do was keep up that tradition. Not kill the systems their last accountant had put in place. She’d spent a lot of the last three years talking to her mom and dad about the money, as they’d taken over for eight months in between the time Cami graduated and when Leo had retired.

  “Great,” Rhodes said, turning onto the road that led to the ranch. “I’m going to assign the project to Clay. He’ll show you around, walk you through everything.”

  Cami sucked in a breath, her chest suddenly so tight. “No,” she managed to say.

  “No, what?” Rhodes asked. “Clay’s the second, Cami. He knows everything I know.”

  “I….” Cami didn’t know what to say.

  Rhodes pulled into his driveway and put the truck in park, looking past Capri to Cami. “I haven’t talked to him yet,” he said. “But he’ll be stoked. He loves doing new projects.”

  Did he? Cami didn’t know that, and annoyance pounced through her that she didn’t.

  Capri put her hand on Rhodes’s forearm. “Sweetheart.”