Page 6 of Begin Again
John?Hmm, no.
Johnny?Nope.
“You have no identity, no money, and nowhere to go. So, for the foreseeable future, you’ll be right here until we figure out what to do with you.”
“Actually,” Joseph said, combing the ends of his beard. “I have an idea.”
“Joe,” Sloan warned.
“I need some help around the ranch.” Joseph turned from Sloan to me. “You any good with your hands?”
“I guess so,” I said.
“I need some help getting things fixed up and help with some ranch work. In exchange, I’m happy to put you up in a room at our bed and breakfast.”
“Re-establishing a routine can be helpful to jog the ol’ noggin,” Doctor Sanders said when Sloan tried to counter Joseph’s offer.
“It’s up to you, son,” Sloan said, and all three men looked at me. “You can stay here, or you can take Joe up on his offer.”
And that’s how I ended up in Chief Sloan’s police cruiser, heading up the mountain to Blackwood Ranch. If my only choices were sitting in a hospital room or working around a ranch, I’d take the latter.
The ranch sits a few miles up a dirt road off a dead-end street perpendicular to Main Street. Bezer is a small, off-the-grid type town in the Rocky Mountains. The whole place looks like it’s stuck in the 1950s, with Main Street thriving as the central part of the community. It’s an odd sight. I may not remember my name, but I’m pretty sure small towns like this don’t exist anymore.
The thick brush on either side of the road loosens until it’s completely gone, opening to a wide clearing. The rolling hills and mountains in the background look more like a painting than real life. Black iron letters spell outBlackwood Ranchabove the open gate the dirt road runs through, and a homestead becomes visible. A white farmhouse with a barn about a hundred yards north and an old red tractor that looks like it hasn’t run in a long time is parked outside. Not too far from the tractor is a dusty blue pickup truck with a white stripe down the sides that also looks like it hasn’t run in quite some time.
Sloan lets his foot off the gas, coming through another patch of trees and creeping toward the house until he comes to a complete stop. My stomach drops when he maneuvers the stick shift to park. I have no idea what I’m walking into, or what to expect from Mr. Blackwood, but Chief Sloan and Doctor Sanders seem to think he’s a good enough guy. He appears well-respected, but what if he’s secretly a serial killer?
What? It could happen.
Joseph stands on the front porch of the farmhouse. It’s bigger than it looked from the gate, towering over me as I step out of the car. I shade my eyes from the spring sun and a cool wind whips around the door. Goosebumps rise across my skinbeneath the coat Sloan had given me before we left the hospital. His wife had taken the liberty to gather some clothes for me. She’d picked out some of his old clothes that didn’t fit him anymore and even went to the store to get whatever she couldn’t find at home. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. The house is secluded and surrounded by acres upon acres of untouched land, with no sign of anyone for miles. The only sounds are from the birds in the sky and a horse’s whinny from the direction of the barn.
“Thanks for bringing him up, Danny,” Joseph calls to Chief Sloan. He’s wearing the same thing he wore both times he visited the hospital—Wrangler blue jeans, a plaid button-up, brown boots, and a brown cowboy hat.
“You got it, Joe.” Sloan waves to him. “You sure about this? We can figure something out if—”
“Oh, no, it’s no trouble. I can use the help. The ol’ ticker ain’t what it used to be, y’know? And I had to let my guys go. It’s just been me and Charlie, so an extra pair of hands is gonna help a lot.”
The hinge of the screen door creaks as an auburn-haired girl steps out of the house. The hinge grinds away at something deep inside me and I make a mental note to grease it as soon as possible. She looks around at the three of us before turning to Joe. “Who is that?”
“Charlie this…What did we say again?”
“Xavier,” I answer.
“Right, right. Charlie, this is Xavier. He’s gonna be staying with us for a bit,” Joseph explains, and Charlie’s eyes narrow toward me. “He’s gonna help out around the ranch while—”
“Dad, we can’t afford—”
“It’s no trouble. We already worked out the details.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Charlie’s glare turns on her father.
“Don’t worry about it, Char,” Joseph says, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “He’s just here until he can get the ol’ noggin working again. It’s no trouble, is it, Xavier?”
“No trouble at all,” I say with a brief smile.
“He’s happy to have a roof over his head.” Chief Sloan chuckles and a heavy hand clamps down on my shoulder, urging me forward. “Well, I best be getting back to the station,” the chief says, rubbing his hands together when the wind blows again. “Gotta finish up a few things, and Doris’ll have my head if I’m late for dinner again.”
“Thanks again, Danny,” Joe says. “Tell Doris I said hey!”
