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Either she’s lying about something or I’m lying to myself. Have I been blind this entire fucking summer, and the answer has been right in front of me? Ford’s words come back to haunt me. Is he right? Something’s wrong with her? The mere suggestion has a knot forming in my gut.
Fuck but I don’t want to push her. If something was wrong, she’d tell me, wouldn’t she? She promised me no one hurt her, and I believe her.
Muscles tensing, I blow out a breath and pull back on the road.
She’s given me the summer, she’s given me my ranch back, but more than that, she’s given me her trust. Her heart.
Messing with that isn’t an option.
She’ll tell me when she’s ready.
Five minutes later, I’m parking the truck at the Bullshit Box. When I stomp inside, all my brothers are here.
“Hey, Charlie.” Wyatt waves a hand. “Just in time for paperwork.”
Davis and Ford look up from their poker game.
“We workin’ or we dickin’ around?” I drawl, dropping into my chair.
“Almost done kicking Davis’s ass.” Grinning, Ford flashes me his hand. Royal flush.
“We got everything set for the farewell dinner?”
Davis nods. “Talked to Silas. He’s burying a pig and hoping like hell no one calls PETA.”
I chuckle, scrubbing a hand over my face.
Looking around the Bullshit Box, I survey the scene. It’s clean. Organized. The filing cabinet has actual labels. A stack of paid bills. The space heater is gone. Our new security system is linked up to multiple TVs showing various angles of the ranch. I watch Sam lead a group of kids to the Warrior Heart Home. On another screen, Tina greets a new group—the last group of the year—with cold bottles of PBR.
Pride fills me up inside.
Maybe we can do this and actually make money. Maybe next year we can start from a place that’s not fucked.
That’s the hope I’ve been looking for. Everything I need to move forward with my ranch.
It’s the push in my gut, the resolution to grow some goddamn balls and tell my brothers the truth. Make the last ten years up to them.
“So, listen,” I say, leaning forward in my chair and steepling my fingers under my chin. “I’ve been meaning to talk to y’all about something for a while now.”
“Royal flush,” Ford says with a smirk as he slaps down his cards.
Davis scowls. “Dick.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s about Runaway Ranch,” I say, and everyone stops what they’re doing. “We’ve been doin’ okay for a few months now. Since—”
“Since Fairy Tale,” Wyatt interjects.
I nod. “Since Ruby helped us out.” Letting out a deep breath, I curl my fingers into a fist and squeeze, pressing on. “Y’all gave up everything to be here for me. And I want you to know I’m gonna be okay. The ranch is gonna be okay. So if y’all want out, go. Now’s the time. Get on with your fucking lives.”
Davis and Ford exchange a surprised glance. Wyatt’s eyes have drifted to the window.
The knot in my chest loosens.
“Y’all had lives before this. I appreciate it—what you did coming here and putting me back together—but it’s time,” I grumble. “Y’all deserve to get out of Resurrection.” I look around at my brothers, willing my throat not to close up. “Davis, you’ve been pissed since you got here. Wy, you can do the rodeo circuit full time if that’s what you want. Break some more goddamn bones. Ford, I have no idea what the hell you’d do, but you can figure that the fuck out.”
After a long stretch of silence, Davis studies me for a beat. Then he chuckles, says, “You’re an asshole.”
“Feeling’s mutual,” I assure him.
