Page 33 of Wild and Wrangled

“Most of the time, it’s pretty boring,” she said. “I didn’t have a lot of options when I graduated from law school and passed the bar because I couldn’t move or take any sort of risk since I had Riley, so I just kind of got stuck doing what was available to me.”

“That’s…kind of a bummer,” I said. “Why don’t you look for something else?”

“It’s fine, most of the time,” she whispered. I almost didn’t hear her. “I like the people, and I like what it gives me.”

“What does it give you?” I asked.

“Security,” she said. “In a lot of ways.” Now that sounded like the remnants of Lillian and Rutherford’s upbringing if I ever heard it. Always so focused on money and outcomes. Even though Cam was now living her own life, based on her new job and how she felt about it, it sounded like she was still following the lines they drew for her. Some things would never change for her.

“What’s your favorite food?” I asked, changing the subject again. I glanced at Cam out of the corner of my eye and saw her shoulders drop slightly. She was skittish—you had to know when to push and when to pull.

“Still tomatoes,” she said, and I laughed. She ate tomatoes like apples—it was the weirdest thing I’d ever seen. “And what’s yours? Still anything blue raspberry flavored? Even though that’s not even a real thing?”

“Yep,” I said. “Blue dye does something to me—what can I say?” Cam shook her head, but she was smiling. “So do youlike Bloody Marys now, too? I always thought you’d like those when I saw people order them.”

“I do,” she said. “There’s nothing better than a giant Bloody Mary—with bacon or shrimp and a giant pickle.”

I faked a shudder. “Pickles are gross.”

“Pickles are delicious,” Cam shot back. I smiled, fighting the urge to bring up Cam’s pickle theory. She used to say that any successful relationship had a pickle lover and a pickle hater. She spent our time together stealing the pickles off of every sandwich I ever got at the diner. “So what about you?” she said.

“What about me?” I asked.

“Do you like what you do? Working at Rebel Blue?”

“I love it,” I said honestly. “The Ryders are a good bunch to work for, and it’s the most beautiful place on the planet.” I thought about my conversation with Gus—about how he was offering me a chance and his trust to carve out a piece of Rebel Blue for myself. To make it something even more special. Excitement—and nerves—danced underneath my skin.

“High praise coming from someone who’s been a cowboy all around the world.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “How do you know where I’ve been?” It was true that I’d been all over doing seasonal work as a cowboy and wrangler, but I didn’t know she was keeping track.

“You hear things,” she said. That was true—especially in Meadowlark. “And social media exists.” I looked over at Cam. She had never followed me online, but sometimes I wondered if she ever scrolled through my page, since the texts I’d get from her always seemed to come after I’d posted something—not that I did that very often. Once I noticed the pattern, Iposted just as often as it took to make sure she didn’t completely disappear.

“Have you been keeping tabs on me?” I asked. I tried to sound playful, but I didn’t know if I pulled it off. My heart kicked at my rib cage.

I watched Cam’s cheeks flush. “Not in a creepy way,” she said. “Just in a ‘I wanted to make sure you were alive’ sort of way.” A smile crept up my face, and when Cam looked over at me, she rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up,” she said. “Like you’ve never done some good ol’ fashioned social stalking.”

She was right, of course, but I didn’t think she wanted to hear about how when I saw she was pregnant, I felt like I got the wind knocked out of me. Or when I saw a picture of her, little Riley, and Gus without the context of their relationship, I nearly fell to my knees.

I was at a small ranch in Montana at the time. That made it worse, I think. Not only because of our history, but because, distance-wise, it was the closest I’d been to her in years, but I’d never felt farther away. By that point, I knew a baby existed, and I knew who her dad was, but that was the first time I’d seen the three of them together. In the picture, they were lying down, and Cam and Gus were each kissing one of Riley’s chubby baby cheeks, and Riley was laughing. She was only a few months old, so she didn’t have a ton of hair, but I could already tell she had Cam’s curls.

All I’d wanted was a glimpse of Cam, and I ended up getting more than I bargained for. I felt like shit for a long time after that. But eventually, I decided I wanted her to be happy, and in the picture, at least, she looked happy. I just didn’t want to hear about it or see it or know anything about her life. Thenext time she texted me—around the holidays—I didn’t respond.

I didn’t hear from her again until the next summer, on my birthday. By that time, my resolve had weakened. I decided that pieces of her were better than nothing at all, so I responded with a quick “thank you” to her birthday wishes. I remember watching the three dots of her typing pulse for a few seconds before it went away.

“Your social media is on private these days,” I said with a grin. Cam laughed, and I basked in it.

“See, you did it, too,” she responded. “How’s Greer, by the way?”

“She’s good,” I said. “Lives in Alaska. She works for the Forest Service—lives in a tiny cabin, worries about the planet, sends us pictures of giant grizzly bears that freak my mom out.”

“So exactly where she should be, then?” Cam asked, and I nodded. “I’m sure it was hard for your mom when both of you were gone.”

“Yeah,” I said as I positioned a wooden dowel in part of the bed frame, which was almost ready for me to start putting the pieces together and securing them. “She jokes that she drove us away, but I hope she knows we just inherited her love for the big, wide world, you know?

“When I told her I was coming back,” I continued, “she was ecstatic. The first words out of her mouth were something about her baby boy finally coming home or whatever, but the second ones were ‘you’re not living in my house.’ ”

Cam laughed again. “So you ended up living in a little house on Anne’s property? Why not stay at Rebel Blue in the staff housing?”

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