Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
But I can’t. I won’t do it.
Because for all its beauty, there’s a rot at the heart of this place, and nothing I can do will ever change that.
I make it back to the barn and start unsaddling the horse when I hear a voice from the office. “There’s no way that’s Melody.” Renee steps out, her eyes wide with excitement. “That can’t be you!”
“Renee,” I say with real pleasure and, for the first time since coming home, I’m actually happy to see someone.
She comes over and gives me a big hug. She’s thinner than she used to be, her eyes more wrinkled, her hands tougher, her shoulder bonier. But she’s still Renee with her big red hair and her tough smile and her beat-up old jeans rolled at the ankles and her rough flannel shirt pulled up to her elbows. I hold on to that hug a little longer than I should but I can’t help myself—Renee taught me so much of what I know about horses and training and riding.
“I’m so happy to see you,” she says, grinning huge. “I take it you already met old Missy.”
“Missy, huh?” I pat the mare’s flank. “She’s a good old lady. I was surprised to see her in here, if I’m honest. There aren’t many animals in the stalls.”
Renee’s expression clouds. “Well, Missy wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t put up a stink.” She covers her discomfort with another massive smile. “Come here, let me look at you. Gosh, you look good, you still riding regularly?”
“I’ve been working on a farm, just like this one. Managing the place, actually.”
“Good for you,” she says and laughs. “I always knew you had it in your blood.”
We get Missy stabled and settled together, talking about the good old days, about the horses we remember and the old ranch hands that used to wander around this place doing whatever needed doing. We talk about my father, back before things went bad, and about all the hours we spent riding together out in the countryside. She walks slowly from the barn, out into the paddock, and we pause beside the fence.
“Renee, I keep asking myself, where is everybody?” I gesture around us at the empty yard. “Last time I was here, this place was bustling.”
Renee nods and squints into the distance. “Things changed.”
“Changed how? Dad’s not dead. Even lying in that bed in his room, I can’t imagine he’d ever let Leader get like this.”
Renee clears her throat and starts walking. She looks awkward, like she’s got something to say but she doesn’t want to say it. Finally, she looks at me with a sad smile. “Your daddy hasn’t been the same since you left, honey. No, don’t look at me like that, it’s the truth. He withdrew, and your cousin Daisy stepped up to fill the void. Things were more or less okay for a while, but she slowly made some changes, fired some staff, stopped investing as much in new horses and new stock, sold off the goats and the sheep and most of the pigs. For a little while, she was giving tours of the grounds and party rides to little kids.” Renee’s expression darkens. “Your daddy put a stop to that at least.”
“This is all Daisy then?” I gesture at the beat-up fence and the weeds growing all over.
“Just not enough hands to manage it all.”
“How’s the ranch making any money?”
Renee laughs sharply. “It’s not. Daisy’s got the family assets tied up in investments she says will be more lucrative than doing what we’ve always done. And what can I do about it? I’m not in the family. All I can do is work.”
I let that sink in. The ranch was always the heart of the family and the source of all our income, even though the Leaders haven’t really needed new income for a couple generations. Still, the ranch was always there, always earning, always working. Now it’s a ghost farm, devoid of life, barely hanging on.
Because Daisy doesn’t feel like running it anymore.
Anger swells in my stomach. A cold, righteous anger, born of spending my formative years on this land and loving it like a piece of my body. Rage cuts deep into my core, and if I had what Daisy has, I’d do anything to keep it going. I’d treat it like it deserves to be treated.
Instead, Daisy neglected the ranch, and I can’t imagine this place will last for much longer.
Slowly though, my anger deflates. I can be pissed all I want, but I have the chance to change things and I’m not going to take it. I’m as bad as Daisy or maybe worse—I could accept my father’s offer, wait for him to pass, and move back here to turn this place around. Instead, I’m turning my back and letting it disappear.