“I missed you, Ches,” I whisper into his chest.
He rumbles a soft chuckle and whispers into my hair, “You have no idea, Mais.”
He doesn’t ask questions; instead, he’s a steady rock to lean on, as always. He knows I’ll come to him when I’m ready to talk. That’s what I love most about him. He’s one of only two constants in my life, and I’ll treasure our bond always.
“Alright, let’s get on the road. It’s family dinner tonight, and you know how Roxy gets when people are late. She pushed it back a couple hours just for your arrival.”
I roll my eyes playfully, knowing exactly how my aunt gets. I planned on getting settled in and taking the night to decompress alone, but I know when it comes to the Foxes, there’s no getting out of it. Maybe it’s the shove I need, being thrown to the wolves right away.
The drive only lasts about twenty five minutes, and we spend it catching up and sharing laughs over old memories while I try my best not to freak out about being in a car. I’ve gotten better over the years, but I still have panic attacks every now and then. It helps to be surrounded by someone I can be myself around, and I try to relax. No second guessing if I’m saying the right things or entertaining enough, just two cousins catching up.
Gravel crunches under our tires as we turn off the highway and onto the long strip that leads to the ranch. A few minutes later, we approach a large gate. It swoops open easily, and we drive under the sign.Foxy Roxy Ranchsits in a swooping script, two foxes framing it.
I can hear Uncle Walter's deep voice clear as day in my head.What kind of man would I be if I didn’t name our ranch after my beautiful wife?
I didn’t get to spend much time here with my family growing up, but the limited time I did, I made the most of. I’ve always wondered how different my life would have turned out if the Foxes had won custody of me and my brother all those years ago.
What would my life look like now? I probably never wouldhave published my book, that’s for sure. I turned to writing when the outside world started feeling like it was caving in on me. The paper felt like a different life to live. Escapism at its finest.
I first wrote about my life struggles and heartache. Love, loss, and the in-between. It was like therapy to let it all bleed out of my hand and into ink on paper. From there, it turned into a hobby, coming up with alternative lives for myself if I lived in different realities, ones where my parents were still alive and the world wasn’t so dark and cruel.
“Home sweet home,” Ches whispers, patting my knee before he cuts the engine. “I’ll grab your bag and show you to your place. It’s still off season technically, so you can stay in one of the guest houses for now.”
I nod in thanks, hopping out of the truck to collect one very angry cat. We are parked in front of Chesney’s cabin, so I’m assuming my lodge isn’t too far away.
Ches disappears for a moment before the soft hum of a motor reaches me. He returns in a side-by-side, a silly grin etched on his face. “I know how much you loved this thing when you were little, so I figured I could escort you over in it,” he yells over the roar of the engine.
I roll my eyes and saunter over. “Ha-ha, real funny, mister. I’m pretty tired, so I guess for today, I’ll agree to getting in your death contraption.”
“I promise, I’ll be on my best behavior. The drive is only a couple minutes…so everything should be fine.”
I glare at him. “Ches, so help me, if you flip us in this again, I will tell Uncle Walter youbeggedme to paint your nails Barbie pink when we were kids.”
His brows furrow. “You wouldn’t.”
I punch him in the arm and hop in, placing Evie on my lap. “Try me, fucker.”
“Touché.”
We carefully speed down a back trail, Ches now the perfectdriver. I know he would never do anything to harm me, and us flipping when we were younger was an accident, but I still grip the handle for dear life. Each bump and dip we hit, Ches whoops and laughs, and, soon enough, I can’t help the responding laughs that bleed into his. It feels so good to be out in nature. It’s wonderfully freeing.
We pass by another house, which, at first glance, I chalked up to another guest cabin. But then I notice the porch lights flickering, the cracked front door left open as if someone was in a rush.
I can’t stop staring at it. I glance over my shoulder one last time, and that’s when I see him. Peeking through the kitchen window, the lights illuminating his shadow, are the greenest eyes ensnaring me. They stare me down with a curious intensity. I feel stripped bare by his gaze, and I swear he can see every insecurity etched into my skin. It sends chills up my spine.
Our eyes stay connected until he’s all but a dark shadow between the trees surrounding us, a lost ghost to the wind. I make a mental note to ask about the green-eyed monster later, after I have time to decompress and prepare for my new temporary life here.
To say it will be an adjustment transitioning from the loud car horns and busy streets of New York to the quiet, simple life of Montana is an understatement. Oddly enough, I’m almost giddy for this change, to embrace slowing down and experiencing life from a new perspective, studying the world around me and seeing it for what it truly is. An experience we are all living the best we can.
Montana is my ticket to a better future, one where I get to live out my dreams in all their overzealous glory, the chapter when I grab life by the balls and do the damn thing. I’ll show Pam just how much research I’m capable of, and then I’ll deliver her a love story of the century.
Ches drops me safely at my door, letting me know he preheated the house and put fresh linens on the bed. Sometimes, he can really be a saint. It baffles me how some local hasn’tswooped him up and declared him off limits yet. From what I’ve heard, 35 with no kids and unwed is pretty much unheard of. Ches always did like living life to his own drum, though, and, as of late, I can’t blame him.
I decide to take a quick shower before dinner. I always feel like I have the heebie jeebies after flying, and fresh hair is a must. I leave the door cracked and listen to the patter of Evie’s excited paws as she finally gets to enjoy her zoomies and explore her new home.
After I’m washed and dressed in a simple pair of white bell bottom jeans, a cropped band tee, and black boots, I debate texting Ches to come get me. I give Evie some love and decide a fresh walk could do me some good. I’m pretty sure I could make my way to The Den from memory; if not, it will be one hell of an adventure to write about.
With my chest settled and heart more full than it’s been in a long time, I set off into the sunset, taking in all my surroundings and committing them to memory for ‘research’.
