Page 15 of Wild and Wrangled

I’d been staring at that text exchange for the past week. Every spare moment I had—in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep, in the early morning while I was getting ready for work—I looked at those two lines.

I hadn’t heard anything from her since. I didn’t really expect to. I’d been back in Meadowlark for a year, and before Saturday, the most I’d seen of her was the day I got home and accidentally intruded on girls’ night. Occasionally, I’d get a text from her, but that had been happening for ten years.

First, when my dad died, then on my birthday, and a few times a year after that. They were always short and to the point, sometimes just pictures of Meadowlark or Rebel Blue or things she thought were funny. I responded most of the time, but not all of the time, because it hurt when she didn’t keep the conversation going, which she never did.

She had Gus give me back my boots and my coat, but she kept the socks. I liked that, but I couldn’t exactly explain why.

Cam’s fancy car—a black Audi SUV—was outside of Gus’s when I rode past on Saturday morning. It had been there all week. I figured she had started staying there instead of at the Big House.

It was nice that she had people she could lean on. I wished I could be one of those people.

Normally, I worked a lot on Saturdays—dropped hay by myself, checked cattle—which I usually used as an excuse for a nice long ride and pulled pastures, but today I had plans with my mom, so I only stayed at Rebel Blue for a few hours.

I told myself that I had chosen to ride the trail that went by Gus’s because it was the fastest way to cut through the middle of the ranch, which was true, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t hoping for at least a glimpse of Cam. But no luck.

When I got back to my truck, I immediately put the heater on full blast and blew hot air into my hands. I pulled my phone out—a few texts from my mom making sure we were still on for today, a couple from ranch hands, and some other random notifications.

I texted my mom and told her I was on my way and cleared the rest. I’d worry about everyone else later.

Before I could set my phone down, it lit up with Greer’s name and picture. I answered immediately.

“Talk to me,” I said. It was how my dad used to answer the phone, and without realizing it, Greer and I started using it but only when we called each other.

“Hey,” she said. “Are you on your way to Mom’s?”

“You are way too aware of my schedule for someone who lives in Alaska,” I said.

“I just got off the phone with her,” Greer responded. “She told me that Cam’s wedding didn’t happen.” Of course she did.

“Have you ever thought about easing into a topic, rather than throwing it all out there?”

“Nope. So?”

“So what?”

“Does that mean you’re staying in Meadowlark?” Greer understood the restlessness I felt, how easy it became to move from place to place, season to season.

“Who wants to know?” I asked.

“There’s this cattle ranch like a hundred miles from me that is looking for workers for summer—including like a ranch manager. Apparently, someone died.” Greer was always a blunt person. “Some of the guys were talking about it.”

I swallowed. Normally, this time of the year would be when I’d start looking for something new—prepping for the seasonal shift. This also wasn’t the first job someone had put on my radar recently.

“I don’t know, G,” I said. “I’ll have to see how things shake out.”

“Right,” Greer responded. I could hear her eye roll. “Things.”

“Yeah, things,” I said. “And I think Mom likes having one of us around. How would she feel if I ditched her to come hang out with you in Alaska?” I missed my sister, and it would be nice to be close to her, but I wasn’t looking for something new—I didn’t think.

“Okay, cheap shot,” Greer said. “But do you want me to send you the info? In case things shake the wrong way?”

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll look at it.”

“Coming your way. I gotta go, though. I’ll call you later this week?”

“Sounds good,” I said. “Love you.”

“Love you.” Greer hung up, and I continued my drive.

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