And with that, I walk out on Sawyer again. Sometimes I wonder if there was a blip in the universe back in senior year—an anomaly that had our paths crossing when they were never destined to. It makes sense when things ended how they did. We just weren’t meant to be, and the world threw what it could at us to prove it.
7
Sawyer
With October rolling in, most of the ranchers at Lucky Star have been moving our cattle back to lower pastures and begun weaning calves off their mothers with shipping day coming in quickly. After Beau told me to try getting more involved, I’ve been heading out to see how the ranch is getting on every other day, to learn better how everything works. Even visited the mess hall on the odd occasion to check in on Bertha and get to know some of the employees.
On the other days, I’ve been going through all my dad’s paperwork on the ranch, getting to grips with all the staff and their jobs, ordering new machinery to replace what’s inevitably broken down this year and, of course, discovering a gambling debt of my dad’s that he’s still yet to pay. Nice of him to leave that to me too.
If I get my head around how this place works then I might figure out if it’s somewhere I envision keeping, even if I barely stay here. It’s something to do anyway while myleg is still busted and keeping me from my usual antics. The only women in my life right now being Bertha and Trixie the dog.
The doctor changed my cast to a slightly smaller one this week, but I’ve still got another month before we can even consider moving to a boot and I can’t fucking wait. Then it’s only three more months to go before I can start thinking about getting on a bull again.
And getting out of this town for a needed breather.
The demand for which feels even more pertinent when I stumble upon my old bull-riding practice dummy from when I was younger—a large barrel tied with rope and springs between four posts—in one of the barns closest to the main house. A thick layer of dust comes away when I run my hand over it, remembering the ranchers who tied the barrel up for me, inspiring a twelve year old with rodeo tales of flashing neon lights, buckle bunnies, and glory.
It’s a shame to see it so unused.
It’s not far from how I see myself right now—stowed away, potential wasted, just begging to be riding again. To feel that rush.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing in here, just staring at the dummy, when my phone suddenly rings and Trixie barks at the sound.
‘Alright, Trix, I got it,’ I say, trying to calm her.
I don’t recognise the number when I pull my phone from my back pocket—which at least means my agent has stopped hounding me. I consider ignoring the call since I’ve had a few journalists attempting to get hold of me recently to talk about my fall too.
But something urges me to answer. ‘Hello?’
‘Sawyer, hey,’ Honey replies, my body instantly alert at the sound of her voice.
How did she get my number?
I wondered if I’d hear from her after our talk last week at the café. After she basically ran away from me.Again.
I knew I’d screwed up when Briar appeared. I could see it in Honey’s face—that she thought I was no more than a womaniser, exactly how she used to look at me when we first started talking in high school.
It was stupid to think she’d want to waste her time with me—my jagged edges don’t fit into the perfect cookie-cutter life she’s trying to build. They never did.
‘I hope you don’t mind—Miles gave me your number.’ Her voice is shaky. Panicked.
It has my free hand flexing with the need to help. I grab my crutches, tucking one under my arm that’s holding my phone, and struggle with just the other as I start heading back to the house, whistling at Trixie to follow me.
‘Everything okay, Blue?’ I keep trying not to use the nickname, but my mouth has never been good at listening to what my brain wants me to say.
‘Um, not really.’ She swallows thickly. ‘I hate to ask this of you, but are you free to pick up Noah from school?’
She wantsmeto pick up Noah?
Has she ever seen me with kids? Even Wolfman tells me off for looking so disgusted whenever he’s got his four-year-old niece over. I just don’t get the appeal. Especially when they cry.
Honey continues when I don’t answer, ‘I got a call from my neighbours saying that a pipe’s burst in our building.’
Oh shit.
The panic in her voice heightens with each word. ‘I’msupposed to be picking up Noah in a half hour, but I need to go see what’s happened. My mom’s out of town until tonight, and I can’t get hold of anyone else. I don’t really have any friends here. I thought you might be free, seeing as—’
‘I’m doing fuck all ’cause my leg’s broken?’ I joke.