Page 6 of Want You Back

Chapter4

Colt

Then: Fall, Sophomore Year

“This is a perfect day.”I stepped back from the fire pit to admire my handiwork. I’d built a beauty of a blaze, perfectly framed by a wide-open vista with craggy red rocks as far as the eye could see. The summer heat was finally backing off, leaving only clear skies and a sweet breeze. The setting sun was more compelling than a lot of TV—all pinks and purples, endlessly changing colors as we inched on toward night.

“Probably the last one we’ll have.” Maverick was as pragmatic as ever, dampening my good mood. He hit the final stake for the little pup tent we’d carted out here, along with backpacks full of supplies. My bid to bring horses camping had been shot down, but we’d liberated two dirt bikes from the storage barn. We were technically still on ranch land, but no cattle or famous Lovelorn quarter horses were in sight. More importantly, we were far from Maverick’s overbearing father and other adults looking to ruin our fun. We’d stopped at the large pond north of the main ranch buildings and cattle pastures for what had likely been the last swim of the season.

“At least until spring.” My voice came out uncertain. I didn’t like thinking about the long winter ahead. We’d had such a great summer, camping, swimming, and playing arcade games whenever we got the chance. Already, school and activities were cutting into our time together. Maybe Maverick was right, and this was the last perfect day.

“And I’ll have my license by then.” Maverick brightened at the mention of his sixteenth birthday. As always, he could go from moody to upbeat in a matter of seconds, making him hard to keep up with for a guy like me, who took things a bit slower. Lying back on a flat rock while I tended the fire, Maverick spread his thin arms wide. “You, me, and miles of open road. I can’t wait.”

“You, me, and what vehicle?” I scoffed. I was saving as much as possible from odd jobs, but I was unlikely to have a truck by my birthday or any reasonable amount of time thereafter.

“Worst comes to worst, I can borrow one of the ranch trucks.” Maverick shrugged with the ease of a kid who never had to worry about money. He didn’t make a big deal about the huge gap in our finances, but every now and then, I felt the pinch of our different realities. Maverick drummed his boots against the rock. “But I think Faith’s working on our dad. Might as well start now, remind him to care about a birthday six months away.”

“Not that you’re counting,” I teased before he could get depressed about how unlikely his dad was to notice Maverick’s birthday in a way that Maverick would appreciate, even with his older sister’s prodding.

“Sixteen is that much closer to eighteen and out of here for good.” Yep, Maverick’s bad mood was never that far away, especially when the subject of his dad came up.

“I don’t wanna think about college right now.” I gave the fire a good poke. Every time Maverick mentioned escaping town, my back tensed something awful.

“School year’s barely started and grades have already got you down?” Maverick misread my reaction, but I wasn’t about to correct him. If I told him the thought of Lovelorn without Maverick made my stomach hurt, he’d simply laugh, as he did now. “I can help with your government project if you want.”

“I’ve got it,” I said curtly. Yes, he was the better student and far more creative than me at putting together presentations and projects, but I could take care of myself. “You wanna grab the sandwich stuff?”

“Sure.” Maverick bounded off the rock. “Wish we’d ended up in the same government section, but I think they’re onto us.”

Freshman year, Maverick and I had lucked into sharing most of the same classes, and we’d been partners on everything the teachers would allow. This year, however, things had changed. I didn’t like that, not one bit.

“We do make a good team,” I allowed as I fetched the skillet.

“Like how you helped me knock out my chores so I could camp?” Maverick dug half a loaf of white bread, wrapped cheese slices, and some lunchmeat out of one of the backpacks. I’d arrived early for our camping plans only to find Maverick neck-deep in stall-mucking duty. It wasn’t the first time I’d grabbed a rake and done my share so we could leave.

“Yep.” I nodded because Maverick would do the same for me, and he had plenty of times. I sat next to him on the rock to work on dinner. “And thanks again for saying you’d help me watch the kids on Sunday.”

My younger brothers and sisters could be a handful, and I was grateful for Maverick’s help on the nights my mom had to leave me in charge.

“Eh. I like your family. Better than mine, that’s for sure.” He gave a crooked grin as he watched me slap together sandwiches to grill. “And look here, more teamwork. I raided the fridge. You’re cooking. Perfect division of labor.”

“Says the guy lazing by the fire.” I pretended to be put out when, in truth, I loved cooking for Maverick. The kid could eat, and while he had a housekeeper at the ranch, he always seemed so grateful for anything my mom, aunt, or I served up.

“Who you calling lazy?” Maverick gave me a shove. Setting aside the sandwiches, I shoved back, the sort of play fighting we’d done a thousand times before. But this time, something different flickered in Maverick’s blue eyes. Not quite alarm. Surprise? Before I could sort out what, he stiffened and moved away. “Better not roughhouse too close to the fire.”

“Yeah.” I finished the sandwiches as an awkward silence dragged on. I rushed the grilling. Food never failed to reset Maverick, and I counted on that here.

“This is the life.” Maverick sounded like me earlier as he gestured widely with his half-eaten sandwich. The last of the sun dipped, a slow fade as the moon, full and bright, revealed itself. He gave a toothy grin, and all was perfect again.

“See? Maybe you don’t need to pine for college after all.”

“Thought you didn’t want to talk about the future.” Maverick wrinkled his nose.

“I don’t.” Heck. I shouldn’t have made that comment. We were never going to see eye to eye on life after high school, that hazy stretch of time that seemed both infinitely far away and much too close.

“I can appreciate your grilled cheese, yet still hate this ranch.” Maverick let out a huff as a chill swept through the campsite. Yep. Last perfect day. Winter wouldn’t be far off now.

“How can you hate something so pretty?” I loved coming out to the ranch, leaving my too-crowded house in town where something always needed fixing. The wide-open spaces here filled something in my chest, even as they seemed to trap Maverick.

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