Page 113 of Ashes of the Past
I straighten up, pushing off the fence. “I think I’ll eat later.”
She pouts, hands on her hips, the way only a twelve-year-old can. “You’re always out here working. You need to come insidefor dinner. Mom made chicken and potatoes. She’s going to get her feelings hurt if you keep skipping out on family meals.”
The mention of food catches my attention, but I’m not about to let myself be distracted from what’s really going on. I give her a small smile. “I’ll be in in a bit. You go on and tell your mom I’ll be there.”
Olivia stands there for a moment, considering me. I can see the wheels turning in her head, and I wonder if she knows more than she lets on. Finally, she sighs and shakes her head, her little voice a mix of stubbornness and concern. “You’re not fooling me, Mr. Jack. You need to go talk to my mom. She’s not gonna talk to you if you don’t.”
I feel a knot tighten in my stomach at the idea of confronting Brynn again. I know Olivia’s right, though. If I don’t do something soon, I’m going to lose everything—this land, this family, and her.
I take a deep breath. “I’ll talk to her, Olivia. Don’t worry.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but she nods slowly. “Okay. But don’t take too long.”
“I won’t,” I promise.
As she heads back toward the house, I stand there for a moment longer, the weight of everything pressing down on me. The ranch, the water, Brynn… it all feels like it’s slipping through my fingers, no matter how hard I try to hold on.
Maybe I shouldn’t have come back to Hicks Creek.
Nah, that’s ridiculous.
I can’t stop. I can’t give up, not now. Not when so much is at stake.
I start walking toward the house, my heart pounding in my chest. The door’s already open, and I can see Brynn inside, moving around the kitchen. She’s trying to act like everything’s normal, but I can tell she’s still upset. I can feel the distancebetween us like an invisible wall, and it’s only growing with every passing day.
As I step inside, I see Olivia sitting at the table, her eyes flicking between me and her mother. Brynn doesn’t acknowledge me at first, too focused on the stove. I know she’s doing her best to avoid the conversation that needs to happen. But I’m done waiting.
I clear my throat. “Brynn, we need to talk.”
She stiffens at the sound of my voice but doesn’t look at me. I can feel her trying to pull away, trying to keep me at arm’s length. But I won’t let her.
“Brynn,” I repeat, my voice softer now but firm. “We can’t keep doing this. We need to figure this out. You can’t keep shutting me out.”
Finally, she turns, her eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and something else I can’t quite place. “If it doesn’t have to do with the ranch, there’s nothing to say.” Her voice is sharp, but it’s the kind of sharpness that comes from pain, not anger.
I step closer, my heart racing. “I want you to listen. I know you’re scared, but I’m not going anywhere. I’m serious about this—about you. About us.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, Olivia speaks up.
“Mr. Jack is not gonna leave, Mom,” she says, her voice full of conviction. “He loves you.”
Brynn’s gaze flicks to Olivia, then back to me. There’s something there—a flicker of hope, maybe, or maybe just exhaustion. But I see it, and it gives me a small spark of hope.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I repeat, my voice steady now.
Brynn doesn’t say anything, but she quickly turns around and starts dishing out food for the other ranch hands. She’s not going to have a conversation with me in front of everyone else, so I’ll just have to bide my time and catch her alone.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Brynn
Istand in the kitchen, the sound of my breath too loud in the silence. I’ve been in here for hours, cooking dinner, trying to keep my mind off everything. The weight of the ranch, the water crisis, the tension with Jack—it’s all been building up. But right now, I need to focus on something else. I need to pretend like everything is fine.
Olivia is outside, playing with the dog, running around the yard like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Jack and Nick are still out by the barn, working on something, their voices faint but steady. Everything should be fine.
The house is too quiet.
Where’s Dad? Did he go upstairs for a long nap?
