by Claire Adams
I nodded, even though I didn’t quite agree with him. Or I didn’t like what he was saying, as though he were saying I was a different person now, maybe couldn’t handle what I once was able to before all this stuff had happened and I’d gone to prison. I felt like the same person; being back on the ranch had made me realize this was true. Yet, here was Garrett, thinking that these things were happening because I’d taken on too much too soon.
I’d have to show him otherwise. I needed to make sure that I didn’t forget about anything, that I wasn’t careless. I needed to prove it to myself as much as I did to Garrett.
The next day things seemed to go smoothly, at least with the morning chores. Once those were done, I was going to work some more with Ditto. I was about to go into the corral when I saw Ryan walking over, looking like there was something he wanted to say.
“Hey,” I said.
He had his hands in his pockets, his white Stetson pulled low, almost obscuring his eyes.
“I heard a real interesting story,” he started.
“Oh, yeah?” Somehow, I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be one of those stories that the two of us would be able to bond and share a laugh over. “And what might that be?”
“It’s funny and all, you letting me believe that you were new around here, that you were from somewhere else. Little did I know you’d grown up here. Guess that makes sense now, why Garrett would want you to take over the place. You must think I’m a real sucker.”
I was surprised that Garrett had even mentioned that to him, but I didn’t say anything about it. “Didn’t figure you were too interested in getting to know me better,” I said. “So, that’s why I didn’t elaborate about anything. Sometimes it’s just easier to let someone think what they want, since they’re usually going to do that, anyway.”
“Is that so?” Ryan yawned, as though this were the most boring conversation he’d ever been a part of. “Sounds like you’ve got your degree in psychology or some shit. See, where I come from, if a man is going to be working alongside another man, he’d at least like to know whether or not he’s ever murdered someone. Most people would, actually. Most of the people coming on vacation here probably would, too. You know, the families with small children and such.”
“There’s no need to bring it up.”
“I say there might be.”
“Then go ahead, if you want, but if the business fails, you’ll be the one out of a job.”
“That’s not the reason why I wouldn’t bring it up. You think ranch jobs are hard to come by? When you’re just out of prison, maybe, but not for someone like me. It wouldn’t take me long at all to find new employment. But I like Garrett. I like Marie. I don’t want to hurt their business. Just know that I know about you.”
“Okay,” I said. “Great. You know about me. How does that change anything?”
“Does Wren know?”
“That’s not any of your business.”
“Now she’s someone I might tell. She certainly deserves to know who she’s getting cozy with.”
I tried to hide my smile. “I wouldn’t be too worried about her. From what she’s told me, she’s more than capable of taking care of herself.”
“Yeah, well.” He rubbed his hand across his chin. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“Well, Ryan, as heartwarming as this little chat has been, I’ve got some things to do, so I’m gonna get back to it.” He stood there for a moment, watching me, but once I ducked under the fence of the corral, he turned and walked away.
I clucked to the horse as I walked toward him, and Ditto remained where he was. He didn’t try to retreat, nor did he pin his ears back and swish his tail. He was used to me at this point, though we still had a long way to go in terms of getting a rider on him. It was progress, though, and I had a good feeling about the whole thing. You could tell just by looking at him that he was intelligent, and even if Garrett decided not to keep him on the ranch, if Ditto could accept a rider, he’d make a fine roping horse, or maybe even a competition horse.
I looked over my shoulder to make sure that Ryan was gone. He was, and I breathed a little sigh of relief. I didn’t care so much that Ryan knew about me, so much as I knew he disliked me. I didn’t want enemies. But I also wasn’t going to kiss someone’s ass just so they’d be friendly. Hopefully Ryan would just forget about the whole thing or get bored with it. But I had a feeling that wasn’t going to be the case.
Chapter Nineteen
Wren
I knew exactly what Ollie would look like if he was clean-shaven, wore high-end clothing, and had a penchant for hair gel, because his brother, Darren, looked just like him.
“Ollie’s,” he said as he settled himself into a seat at the counter. He winked. “I like the name. Any correlation…?”
“There might be,” I said. “Can I get you a coffee?”
“I don’t suppose you have an espresso machine in here.”
“We don’t usually get too many customers interested in drinking espresso.”
“That’s a shame. They don’t know what they’re missing. Actually, espresso’s a little too harsh for my taste—I like a latte. Or, if I’m watching my waist line, a cappuccino with skim milk.”
I looked at him sitting there, his long, slender frame. “Right,” I said with a smile. “I can totally see why you might need to be watching your waist line. You’re a whale.”
“Girl, you didn’t see me three years ago when I was basically subsisting on caramel lattes and that pub cheese from Trader Joe’s. And pita chips, but the pita chips were really just a vehicle for the pub cheese. God, that sounds so disgusting now.”
I laughed. “Well, whatever you diet secret is, the pounds just melted off.”
He leaned forward, his face stoic. “Methamphetamine,” he said. He was only able to hold the serious expression for another second before his face broke out into a grin. “Kidding! I’d never do meth. Well, maybe I would if it didn’t do such awful things to your teeth and complexion. I’d be down for being able to stay up for days—think of how much more shit you’d be able to accomplish!”
“I like sleep too much to ever forfeit it,” I said.
He gave me the once over. “You certainly don’t need your beauty rest. My brother did all right for himself. I am assuming that he mentioned going to San Francisco?”
“He did.”
“And I’ll now go a step further and assume that you’re going to help talk him into it? I can tell that he’s on the fence.”
“You’re good.”
He smiled. “I know. But really. It’d be great if the two of you would come for a visit. Ollie might not love it, but I know you will. And I think he’ll appreciate the change of scenery, even if it’s just for a little while. All he’s ever known is either this town or prison. Talk about depressing.”
“I love this town,” I said.
“Sweetie.” Darren patted my hand. “No need to get defensive. Hell, if I wasn’t a gay man, I might not mind this town that much, either. But I really would love for the two of you to come out and visit me in the city. I was a little presumptuous and went ahead and talked to Ollie’s boss about him getting a few days off, and he agreed that he could go in a couple of weeks. For just a week, mind you, but I went ahead and bought the tickets. I figured—”
“Oh, you don’t need to buy us the tickets!”
“I know I don’t, but it’s my treat. They weren’t that expensive, anyway, so don’t even give it a second thought. I even took a trip down nostalgia lane and printed them out at the library, and I want to give them to you to hang onto. I figure if I give them to Ollie he might misplace them, or, they might conveniently blow away in the wind or something.” He dug around in the leather satchel he had placed in the seat next to him. “Here they are,” he said.
“That’s a nice bag.”
“It’s Kate Spade. Got it at Saks Fifth Avenue, where I will most certainly take the both of you, and we can go on a littl
e shopping spree, if you’d like. San Francisco’s changed quite a bit since Facebook and Twitter moved their offices in, but the shopping is still excellent. I know Ollie will hate every second of a shopping trip, so maybe we could send him to explore the Botanical Gardens or something while we make a day of it. There’s so much to do out there, so many great restaurants to eat at. You could even look at it like you’re going out there to see how other restaurants are doing things—not that I’m saying you need any improvement.” He cast his gaze around the dining room. “Well, there might be a thing or two I’d change about the décor…”
I laughed and swatted him on the arm. I couldn’t remember ever feeling more comfortable with a person in such a short time. I felt like I’d known him for years. “I would love to do that,” I said. “And don’t worry about Ollie—I’ll convince him that he wants to go.”
Darren grinned. “I have no doubt you can,” he said. “Throw in a blow job or two if you have to.”
That evening, I was lounging around my house, thinking about what I should pack when I went to San Francisco. Ollie’s brother just reappearing again after so long had been an unexpected but very welcome development, and I was thrilled at the idea of getting to go on a little vacation with Ollie, to a city I’d always wanted to visit. Having Darren as our host would just make everything even more fun.
I was rummaging through my closet for my old suitcase that I had last used when I packed up my stuff and left my parents’ house when I heard my phone beep. Incoming message.
It was from Allison. Are you home? I’m coming over, she wrote. I need to talk. Please tell me you have some wine.
Affirmative on all counts, I typed back. She was over less than two minutes after I pressed send.
“Where’s the wine?” she asked, immediately going over to the refrigerator.
“Where it always is. Pour me a glass, too, while you’re at it. I have something to tell you, too.”
She poured a rather large glass and took a big gulp before setting it down and pouring me a smaller, more modest glass.
“What’s your news?” she asked. “I think I’d rather hear yours first.”
That should’ve been a clue, but I felt the grin stretching across my face before I could stop it. “I’m in love. I can’t believe I’m actually saying that out loud, but I am.”
“Aww!” Allison held her almost empty wine glass up to me. “Now that deserves a toast! Really? That’s certainly the best news I’ve heard all day.”
“Really. But what’s going on? We can talk about me being in love later.”
She put her glass down and rubbed her eyes. “Well, I can’t believe that I’m going to say this. How old am I? Wait, don’t answer that. I’m old enough to know better.”
I gave her a quizzical look. “What are we talking about…? I’m a little lost.”
She sighed. “I’m pregnant.”
“Oh!”
But I could tell by the look on her face that this was not something to be celebrating.
“I thought I was just getting a cold, then when that didn’t go away, I figured I was just chronically run down, but then yesterday, and this morning, I woke up and barfed, so I took a test. And despite the fact that I’m on the pill—and I remember to take it every day—I still somehow managed to get pregnant.”
“So, what are you going to do?” I asked as she killed the glass of wine.
“I’m obviously not keeping it,” she said as she poured a refill. “There’s no way. Three kids? I know plenty of women can handle it, but I am not one of them.”
“You’re a great mom,” I said. “You really are.”
“Looks can be deceiving, and, just because I’m a great mom to two kids, doesn’t mean it’ll be that way for three. The days of not sleeping through the night and changing eight million diapers are long past. I am not going back and doing that all over again. That part of my life is over. Finito.” She raised her glass again. “Which is why I am indulging in all these glasses of wine. Oh, and another thing—you can’t tell Nigel.”
The whole time I’d been nodding along, prepared to support her in whatever decision she came to, but I frowned when she said that about Nigel.
“Really?” I asked. “You’re going to keep it from him?”
“I have to, Wren. And I know it makes me sound like a cold heartless bitch, but you don’t know the man the way I do, and though Nigel will tell you he’s pro-choice and he’s even donated money to Planned Parenthood before, if it’s his child, well…it’s different, then. It’ll turn into this huge awful argument and then he’ll try to stall me or something until it’s too late. Or, I tell him, and tell him in no uncertain terms that there’s not a fucking thing he can do about it, and he gets his heart broken. I know it sounds dramatic, but that’s really how he’s going to take it.”
“But don’t you think—”
“No.” She shook her head firmly. “I know. And do you know how? Because Annabel was not planned. She was an oops, and I wanted to go ahead and get an abortion then because I didn’t want to start having kids until… well, until about now. I always figured I’d be in my early to mid-thirties. But then shit happens, as they say, and I let Nigel talk me into keep it. And yes, of course I’m glad I did, and I can’t for a second imagine my life without Annabel. But the fact remains that I let him talk me into something that I still feel regret about. And you’re about the only person I could ever admit this to; anyone else I tried to talk to about it would just get stuck on the fact that it sounded like I regret my children, which I don’t. It’s two different things. But that is why I am not going to tell Nigel.”
“Okay,” I said. “That makes sense. And I’m here to support you however you want me to. I won’t say a word to him.”
“She should tell him,” Ollie said. I’d waited until the next day to tell him. We’d finished with my riding lesson and were sitting on lounge chairs underneath a box elder tree, drinking lemonade. The tone of his voice made me look at him in surprise. He clearly felt rather strongly about it, when I had just been expecting to have him listen and tell me, at most, that whatever Allison decided would be the best.
“Really?” I said. “Even though he’s probably going to insist she keeps it? Wait a second—you’re not pro-life, are you?” That had never occurred to me before, though maybe it should have.
“Is it a problem if I am?” he asked mildly.
“No.”
“That wasn’t very convincing.”
“Well, I am a firm believer that everyone’s entitled to their own opinions, except when those opinions happen to infringe on the rights of others. And it seems more men than women are pro-life—at least the ones I’ve encountered—which, if you ask me, is kind of fucked up.”
“Well, I’m not,” he said. “I do happen to think that it’s not any of my business—unless it is.”
“I don’t see how Allison’s pregnancy could be any of your business. It’s not even my business, really.”
“I know,” he said, “but I’m not talking about Allison. I’m just saying, no, I don’t think that a guy should be able to choose whether or not a woman is able to get an abortion. But at the same time, the guy in question does have a right to know. So, I think she should tell Nigel. It’s not really fair to him if she just goes and does it.”
There was something in his voice that told me he was speaking from personal experience. “Did that happen to you?”
He paused but the nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “With Carolyn. It was kind of different, though, because by the time she found out, I was already in prison. And then she tried to come see me, but I didn’t see anyone while I was inside; I refused to. So she would have told me if she could have. I guess that whole thing was really my fault.” He took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. “We only slept together that one time, but I guess that’s all it takes.”
“Do you think she would have done things differently, if she’d been able to tell you?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “We didn’t really talk about it. Well, she ripped me a new asshole over it, but I deserved that. I didn’t do things right with her at all. Not breaking up with her properly, not seeing her all those times she came down and tried to see me.” He gave me a little smile. “It’s not going to be that way with you, though. I want to do things right.”
“So far, so good.”
We finished the rest of our lemonade, and he asked if I wanted to go for a little walk before I left. Just being around him made me happy, and I said yes. We walked down past the barn, where Ryan was just heading out with a group of riders. He looked our way but didn’t acknowledge us. We started walking along the fence line of the main pasture when I heard someone begin to shout.
I turned, thinking that something had happened with one of the people in Ryan’s group. That’s where I looked first, but they were all there, sitting atop their horses, looking at something. The woman shouted again.
“That horse just escaped!” she yelled, pointing.
Ollie’s head jerked in the direction, right in time to see Ditto careen past us at breakneck speed, nearly running into a guy and his young son.
“Shit,” Ollie said, and he took off. For a second, I thought he was going to try to run after Ditto on foot, which would have been foolish, but he instead ran over to the barn, where one of the other employees was halfway through getting a horse ready for a ride. The horse wasn’t saddled or wearing a bridle, just a halter and a lead rope, but after grabbing a coil of rope by the barn door, Ollie somehow got up on there and took off.
We could see Ditto running, as though he realized he was free of any gates or corrals trapping him in. He was getting further and further away, but then there was Ollie, catching up to him. A crowd of people had gathered, and we all stood there watching, wondering what was going to happen, though part of me knew exactly what was going to happen: he’d lasso the horse, we’d all clap and cheer, and he’d put him in the corral, where he was supposed to be.