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I only wanted to provide for us all, not make them feel ashamed that they couldn’t do it themselves. Hell, it’s been hard enough for them to see me take longer than normal to get through college having to pay for it on my own. They never would have been able to afford even one semester at the colleges I’ve attended.
I got the loans and supported myself completely through it all, whilestillsending money back home. That meant pushing back my graduation a few years in order to keep my weekend and nighttime jobs.
There’s nothing wrong with not having a lot of money to your name. I don’t resent the fact that my parents have worked minimum-wage jobs and lived in a trailer all their lives. Or that Warren never left our hometown and toils away working on a ranch day in and day out. I could be wrong, but I’m not sure that’s what he envisioned for his life.
But I always wanted more for myself. For them. Us. More freedom and flexibility to worry about all thelittlethings in life instead of how they’re going to pay for insurance or rent all the time.
We’re silent for a few minutes, all of us unsure what else there is to say.
Luckily the server breaks the tension when our food is delivered. The calm won’t last. They’re driving back to Texas first thing in the morning and I would never let them leave without making sure they understand where I’m coming from. After a few bites, I raise my glass.
“Let’s soak in the night together and enjoy this gorgeous meal,” I smile tentatively. “I love you three more than life itself and I’ll give it some thought. Coming home for the holidays, I mean.”
It’s not a lie. I will certainly think about staying with them for a while. But I won’t be able to actually go through with it.
They seem to accept the fact that I’ll consider it and we clink our glasses together.
Chapter 3
Gage
“Look who decided to show up to work for once,” I tease.
“Oh, fuck off. I was gone for one day and my best friend was graduating medical school,” Warren shouts as he jumps off his horse and rubs the mare’s neck.
“I thought it was your sister that was graduating?”
“Same thing,” Warren beams.
“Right,” I grumble.
The infamous Blythe Farrow. I’ve heard so much about her over the years that I feel like I know her. Warren never shuts up about his big-city smarty-pants sister. He’s always bragging about her multiple degrees and how successful she is.
“That cuts deep man. I thought I was your best friend,” Tripp covers his chest with a hand like he’s in pain.
Heston huffs a laugh through his nose and shakes his head without looking up from the campfire he’s putting out.
The four of us are pretty tight. We work seven days a week on this ranch and all live in the bunkhouse. They’re like brothers to me, and we’ve been raising hell together for years now.
Things didn’t feel quite right without Warren around, despite him only being gone a day and a half.
“Man, seriously?! There’s no coffee left,” Warren turns the coffee pot upside down and one little drip falls to the ground.
“Snooze ya lose motherfucker,” Tripp laughs.
“Pack up your shit and let’s get a move on. These cows need moved before nightfall and we have a lot of ground to cover,” I say.
Most mornings we have breakfast at the bunkhouse. But calving season is coming up in just a few weeks. Winter is setting in. Before it gets too cold and we’re up to our eyeballs in baby calves, we like to camp out under the stars a few times.
Saddles for pillows, a fire pit to cook steaks on, and a few bottles of whiskey are our idea of a fun night out this time of year. Don’t get me wrong, we go to the bar in town from time to time. We even have parties at the ranch. But nothing beats this.
“I’m getting too old for this. It’s hard for me to sleep without a memory foam mattress and a plump juicy ass to cuddle up to,” Tripp whines.
I tighten the cinch, put my foot in the stirrup, and swing my leg over the saddle. The leather reins feel rough in my hands, and the cool morning breeze whips by me as I pull the brim of my hat down a little lower.
“Quit your bitching,” I yell over my shoulder as I ride toward the sunrise.
Heston lets out a sharp whistle to his blue heeler, Lucky. It only takes a few seconds for him to shoot out in front of us at a full-speed sprint. He’s one of the best cow dogs I’ve ever been around. And he loves to run.
