Ithadbeen a while since I’d been with a woman. Shannon leaving me for my supposed “best friend” the night before our wedding turned me into an even grumpier recluse. I had avoided getting close to someone again, knowing that it often ended in heartache.
Town, a local girl, and their usual routine held absolutely no appeal. Anyone I’d met recently had been when I’d gone into the city, which in the last couple months hadn’t been that frequent. Leaving the farm for a weekend in the city proved challenging following Pops’ retirement. There was always something that needed to be done around the ranch.
I managed the daily operations of our small working ranch. Though the old man still lived on the property, having moved out to the bunkhouse shortly after Ma passed, he had turned over most of the responsibility of the ranch day-to-day business to me. When he moved out of the big house, Pa claimed he didn’t need all the space, but we both knew it carried the oppressive memories of the love he had lost.
The ranch sang with the memories of Ma, her touches clear in each and every thing. Losing her had been one of the biggest hits to our family, and I don’t think Pa would ever recover. I don’t think any of us would ever fully recover.
“I’m good, Wade. Stop trying to play wingman for me. I can find my own chicks,” I grumbled and threw the dirty rag directly at him. He sidestepped, narrowly avoiding it before it whacked him directly in the face.
“I’m not saying you can’t. I’m saying youwon’t,” he countered with a quirk of his brow.
I sighed. Ithadbeen a while since I’d been out with mybrother and our friends. I’d been so busy keeping the ranch running that I had taken no time for myself.
“Give me thirty minutes to shower, shit and shave, and I’ll come out for a beer.” I mumbled, reluctantly accepting his offer, hopping off the tractor to pick up the fallen rag, draping it back over the steering wheel of the tractor.
Twin senses tingling and before he could hoop and holler, I held up a hand to settle his excitement.
“One. Fucking. Beer,” I emphasized.
The big house’sfront door clicked shut thirty minutes later; the earsplitting blare of Wade’s truck horn immediately followed the purr of his engine. An immediate and profound wave of regret washed over me. What the hell had I gotten myself into?
I patted my pockets to make sure I had everything.
Wallet -check.
Cell phone -check, even though I never used the damn thing.
Keys -check.
I went to the passenger door and got in.The sound of new age country music was blaring through the speakers. I reached across the center console and turned the dial down, hoping to preserve my hearing. Immediately after I lowered my arm, Wade returned the radio to its offensive volume.
“Get in the mood, bro!” he shouted over the music before throwing the truck in reverse and cruising down the dirt road to the property line.
I watched out the window as we retreated away from thedim lights of the ranch and out towards town. The ranch was my safe space, a quiet haven where the only sounds were the gentle breeze and the distant mooing of cows. Having grown up in Firefly Cove, we weren't strangers to small town living. The ranch offered a small slice of privacy from prying eyes and wagging tongues.
The city of Firefly Cove was small. Our route took us through the main downtown area, which included a large park, many locally owned shops, a small grocery store, a feed store, and finally, Jack’s—the dive bar we were heading toward.
When we reached the edge of the town, the headlights of Wade’s truck shone upon a small, dark-colored sedan that was stopped on the side of the road.
We didn’t get many “out of towners” as we liked to call them here in the Cove and it wasn’t a car I recognized. Hackles raised, I reached across the console to turn the music down again and Wade grumped with frustration.
“Slow down,” I instructed, craning my neck to get a look at the car and who might occupy it. I couldn’t see the driver, but the Missouri plates told me that it was more than likely not anyone from around here.
“Doesn’t look like anyone I know,” Wade surmised, echoing my thoughts.
“Pull over behind ‘em,” I instructed.
Wade slowly eased the truck onto the side of the road behind the car and cut the headlights so they wouldn’t blind the occupants.
Unbuckling my seatbelt and throwing open the door, I stepped out into the muggy night air. “I’ll be right back”
I walked up towards the car, keeping my eyes open and a hand on my belt where I always carried my handgun. Evensmall towns required vigilance. I always kept my .44 holstered on my hip tucked into the waistband of my jeans, just in case.
As I got closer to the car, I could make out a female occupying the driver’s seat. Her forehead rested on the steering wheel; the car wasn’t running. As I stepped closer, I could hear crying coming from the back seat. A quick glance revealed a small child in a car seat, their face barely visible but their crying audible even through the closed window.
Approaching the driver’s side door carefully, I gently rapped my knuckles on the glass, doing my best to not scare the woman. Even so, she was startled. I could see her quickly wiping tears off her face as she reached for the button to roll the window down. With the window opening, the toddler’s cries from the back seat intensified.
The woman looked up, surprising me. Her eyes were red rimmed and puffy. She had clearly been crying awhile. That wasn’t what had me off kilter though, it was the color. A striking green, almost emerald in depth. Beyond the color, her eyes looked almost lifeless. She looked lost.
