Page 29 of The Pieces We've Lost

“The night in the bar when we ran into each other was the night before the anniversary of my dad’s death.” She took a deep breath. “He used to call my mother Baby Blue, because of her eyes. It was quite endearing, actually.”

Realization hit me. That’s why she reacted the way she did. “I’m so sorry. You don’t have to tell me what happened.” I wasn’t going to push the subject because I knew how difficult talking about her dad was for her. I would let her tell me as little or as much as she wanted.

“He died when I was eight. Rodeo accident,” she continued. “He was a steer wrestler. One of the best in the world. Rodeo was his life. It used to be mine too. I remember wanting nothing more than to be just like him. That accident didn’t just cause me to lose my dad. I lost my entire world with him.”

My heart dropped a little at her confession. The truth was, Ellison Wilson and I weren’t all that different. We had both lost someone and with it, felt like we had lost a piece of ourselves. I fully intended to help her get that piece back.

I didn’t know the person she was before today. But I wanted to. I wanted to learn every aspect of her. I wanted her to know that she didn’t have to build up her walls to keep me out.

“A couple days ago, you asked me what my maininterest was. Well, if you really want to know, you also have to knowwhyit’s my main interest. That involves knowing what the most important things to me are.” She gestured for me to follow her to her car.

We drove out of the city and the skies began to open up. I had no idea where she was taking me, but I was along for the ride. I would figure out how I would get back to my truck later. About twenty minutes later, we pulled through the wooden entrance of Merritt Ranch.

Merritt. Why is that name so familiar?I knew I had heard the name before, but my memory was failing me.

Then it hit me.

“Your dad was Levi Merritt.” It was more of a statement than a question. Merritt was one of the greatest cowboys of his time. He was in the peak of his career, with no sign of it slowing down. Until his tragic accident.

“The one and only,” she confirmed, never once turning her head to meet my eyes.

Now that I was looking at her and thinking about it, she was a spitting image of the famous cowboy.

“You never wanted to compete?” I asked.

“No. How could I? Rodeo might have been the one thing my dad and I both loved, but it was also the thing that took him away from me.” Her hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles turning white.

She parked her car behind a large workshop, the building blocking the view of the main house. When she got out to open the garage door, she gave me an expectant look to follow her.

We had walked through racks of tools, ranch equipment, and four wheelers when she finally stopped in the back corner by a large tarp.

“I’ve never told anyone about this before,” sheconfessed as she pulled the tarp off of the baby-blue F-100. “My dad bought this pickup after he married my mom. Said the color reminded him of her and he would have been a fool not to buy it. He was restoring it. I remember he’d bring me out here when I was young and I’d sit on the floor while he worked on the truck.

“When he died, the pickup sat here for years until one day, when I was in high school, I came out to grab something for one of the ranch hands and remembered it was here. I’ve been working on it ever since. Trying to completely restore it. Sometimes I’ll drive it around and I swear I can sense my dad in the passenger seat beside me. Nobody knows about this. Not my mother, not Isa, no one.”

I was honored she trusted me enough to tell me this secret, to be so vulnerable about the thing that brought her comfort. But I could also sense she was giving me a warning, that she would know if I broke that trust.

“Thank you for showing me this.” I didn’t know what else to say, but the thank you was sincere.

She shrugged. “Like I said, if you want to really know me, you have to know what’s important to me. My family is everything, and this is the only piece of my dad I have left. Come on, we’re going for a drive.”

The pickup ran amazingly well despite all of the years it had sat in the shop. Ellison must have done some really good work on it. We drove off the ranch property, heading out the back way instead of by the house.

“Every time I miss my dad, I take the truck out for a drive. It’s become a bit of a ritual these past few years. No one ever drives these backroads, so it feels like it’s just me and my dad out here.” She had rolled down the windows, and the wind was blowing through her hair. Shelooked peaceful, carefree, like all of her sorrows had been left behind at the wooden gates of the ranch. I loved hearing her talk about the things that brought her comfort, the ways she dealt with stress and her grief.

“What about your family?” she asked.

“I love my family. They’re very supportive of me and my career. I don’t see them a lot, though, because I’m always traveling. I try to make an effort to go visit them as much as I can, but it gets difficult when I’m always on the road.” Our schedules hadn’t been lining up very well lately either. I would be on the road and then the few days I was home, my mom would be visiting my siblings in Bozeman or Washington and my dad would be off doing who knows what.

“Do you have any siblings?”

“I have an older brother and sister. Caitlin lives in Washington and is three years older than me and Clay lives in Bozeman and is five years older.”

“I don’t have any siblings,” she replied.

“Do you ever wish you did?” I asked.

“I don’t think so. I’ve always been content on my own. Besides, it was probably for the best with all things considered. My mom had enough on her plate when my dad died. I think having more kids would have made it more difficult.”

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