Done and Dusted: A Rebel Blue Ranch Novel

My phone rang at the ass crack of dawn. I assumed it was Teddy since she was the only person who was calling me lately. I answered without looking at the screen.

Big mistake.

“Hello?” I said. My voice was groggy.

“Hi, there. Is this Emmy Ryder speaking?” The voice on the other end of the phone was definitely not my best friend. Even Teddy wasn’t that cheery in the mornings.

“This is she.”

“Good morning, Emmy. It’s Wendy from the Women’s Professional Rodeo Association.” On the list of people I didn’t want to talk to on a Monday morning, the rodeo people were pretty high up there. Especially Wendy with her cloyingly sweet voice. “I’m calling because I wanted to know if you’d be competing when we come to Meadowlark next month.”

“Um, I don’t know. I’m taking a break from the circuit right now.”

“Yes, we’re aware of your situation.” Great. “I wanted to call and let you know that we understand those things can be hard to work through, and we want you to do so, but we also would love to have you with us in Meadowlark. That’s your hometown, correct?”

“Yeah,” I said blandly.

“Well, we’ve never brought the circuit there before, and we think having you on the roster would be great for us and great for your town.” What about what would be great for me?

“I’ll think about it.”

“Great! I’ll call in a couple of weeks to check in. And, Emmy?”

“Yeah?”

“If there’s anything we can do for you, please don’t hesitate to reach out. We appreciate you and we love having you as part of our crew. You’re a great racer.”

“Thanks.” Where were you when I was holed up in my apartment for a month? I thought to myself. Wendy had been in charge of barrel racing at the WPRA for years. I’d known her for a long time. I didn’t blame Wendy for anything, but my accident was reported to her right after it happened, and this was the first time I’d heard from her.

And the first thing she asked me was whether or not I’d be willing to race.

“Alright, we’ll talk soon. Have a great day!” Wendy said. Her voice really was like nails on a chalkboard, especially this early in the morning. I hung up the phone without responding.

That wasn’t the way I wanted to start my morning.

So far, all I’d done on a horse since I’d come home from Denver was walk laps around a corral. I couldn’t even take Moonshine out to one of the riding paths that weaved through the ranch.

It felt too unfamiliar right now, which was hard to reckon with, considering I’d spent my entire life riding those trails.

I couldn’t think about that right now.

Last night at dinner, a dinner from which Brooks was notably absent, Wes asked me if I could help him with a project. I agreed.

Even though Brooks wasn’t able to ride with me for a couple days, I still went down to the stables and did a few walking laps with Moonshine every morning. It wasn’t as easy without him there, but I could do it.

It was amazing how much our trivial conversations while tacking up calmed me down.

I wasn’t brave enough to take Moonshine to a trot yet, so I hoped whatever Wes needed help with didn’t require too much riding, or else today would not be a good day.

I forced myself out of bed and into a warm shower. It was that point in the summer where the mornings were getting colder, but not cold enough to justify starting a fire in the cabin. Those days would probably be approaching soon, though.

Usually, a few weeks after Teddy’s birthday, which was this week, it started to get cold earlier in the evening and stay cold later in the morning. That didn’t mean it wasn’t still hot as hell during the day.

It wasn’t Wyoming if you didn’t experience at least three of the seasons per day.

After my shower, I slid on a pair of Wranglers, a black tank top, and an oversized Carhartt hoodie. I pulled my hair back into a braid, and just as I slipped my boots on, Wes knocked at the door.

“Emmy? Are you ready?” His voice was muffled through the door.

“Yeah, come in!” I responded. He opened the door, and the cool morning air made its way into my cabin. The hoodie was a good call.

“Hey, morning. Are you okay if we take the side-by-side?” He had no idea how okay I was with that.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” We walked out my cabin door, and I made sure to shut it tightly. You’re welcome, Gus.

Wes had driven the side-by-side down to my cabin, so I made my way to the passenger side and hopped in. “So, what’s this big project you’re on about?”

Wes smiled while keeping his eyes on the dirt road ahead of us, dimples on full display. “You’ll see.” There was a fork in the road, and Wes took the one that went to the left. This led to the older part of Rebel Blue–well, the part that had the most original structures. Since there weren’t a ton of working structures over here, a lot of cattle roamed through. It was the part of the ranch where you were most likely to get blocked by them, but it didn’t look like we were going to this morning.

“So, how’s being home?” Wes asked as he drove.

“It’s nice. I didn’t realize how much I missed being here,” I said. It was easy to be honest with Wes. Well, about some things.

“Here as in Meadowlark or here as in Rebel Blue?”

I thought about that for a second. “Both,” I answered truthfully. “I thought I would only feel that way about the ranch, but Meadowlark isn’t as bad as I remember.”

“Somebody check the weather in Hell,” Wes responded, and I smiled. “What about that boyfriend you mentioned when we were on the phone last month?“

“Not important,” I said. Harsh, but true.

“Ah, got it.” Wes let it go. I appreciated the way he didn’t push me on things. Like Gus, I really didn’t like to talk about what I was feeling. Wes made me feel like I could talk about things, but he never pressured me to do so before I was ready.

“What have you been doing with your time here?” he asked.

“I’ve been at our stables mostly.” This was true. I hadn’t really been anywhere else in Meadowlark, or even at Rebel Blue. But it wasn’t where I was that I was hiding from Wes–it was who I was with and what I’d been starting to feel about him.

“Doesn’t Gus have Brooks on those?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ve just been helping out.”

“Well, he’s busy with the bar, so that’s probably nice for him.” We came to a stop in front of the structure that used to be the Big House before any of us were born. It was technically bigger than the one we lived in. It was just a hell of a lot older. Our dad built our Big House when he was in his twenties because the plumbing in this one was less than ideal.

Unlike ours, this one was built more like a normal house. It was a ranch-style Craftsman. Its blue paint was faded and the front door was boarded up, but it was still beautiful.

“What are we doing here?” I asked.

Wes wore a giant smile, and I could feel the excitement radiating off of him. Something big was going on in that golden retriever brain of his.

“This is going to be the center of our guest ranch.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I said, trying to get my brain to catch up with my mouth. “Dad and Gus gave the go?”

“Not yet, but they will,” he said. “When they came back from Idaho, Gus asked me if I was still interested, which I obviously am, and we’re going to vote at dinner sometime this week.”

“Well, you know my vote,” I said.

“I know. Thank you.” I looked at the old Big House. It was maintained as well as we could maintain it, but it didn’t take priority, especially since I don’t think anyone thought it was ever going to be a working structure again. If we’d needed the space, my dad probably would have just torn it down.

“So tell me, how are you going to take this house, that’s basically a ruin, and turn it into a place that people actually want to stay?”

“Well, the entire project will probably take at least eighteen months before we’re ready to welcome guests, with the actual construction hopefully taking six to nine months,” he said. I knew he’d been working this plan out in his head for years. “The entire house needs to be gutted and brought up to code. But as far as the layout, on the west side of the house there are six bedrooms. Two of those will turn into large suites and the other four will turn into a set of suites, each with a bathroom between them. We’ll create a large kitchen and dining area, and a living area for people to relax after a long day.”

Wes was a dreamer. Neither Gus nor I had the ability to dream the way he did—in the way where it felt like anything was possible. I never could have come up with this vision, but when Wes laid out his plan, I could almost see it.

“I love it. This is going to be fantastic, Wes. I’m so proud of you.” And I was. I wanted this for him.This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

“Thanks, Em.”

“Okay, so why are we out here today?”

“We’re going inside. We need to document the state of the house. As soon as Dad and Gus give their formal go ahead, I want to start looking for a designer and contractor.”

“Let’s do it.” Wes and I walked up to the door.

“Have you ever been inside of here?” Wes asked.

“No. I’m not in the habit of going inside abandoned buildings like you.” Wes liked adrenaline. It was the only thing about him that sometimes got him in trouble.

“Boring,” Wes said as he pulled the plywood from the front door and opened it. I looked inside. God, this place was in bad shape. Wes, and whoever he hired, had their work cut out for them.

After a near death experience having to do with the kitchen ceiling and a lot of rodents, both dead and alive, Wes and I boarded back up the door.

“Wes, I know you can do it, but goddamn. Are you sure you don’t just want to tear the whole thing down?” I asked, shaking my head. After seeing the inside of the house, I was one-hundred percent certain starting from scratch would be easier.

“I’m sure.” Wes smiled. He was undeterred by the state of the house. “Gus gets the ranch,” he continued. “You left Meadowlark and made something of yourself all by yourself,” he continued. “This is mine.”

Wes put his hands in his front pockets and looked back at the house. He looked at it like it was already finished. His ability to see potential in things was something I admired.

“It’s going to be beautiful, Emmy.”

“I know. If anyone can do it, you can.” That was true. Neither Gus or I could ever pull something like this off. We wouldn’t even try. Wes threw an arm over my shoulders and we walked back to the side-by-side.

“Speaking of dreams, are you going to race in divisionals when they come to Meadowlark next month?” Goddamn. Was nothing sacred in this town?

“How do you know about that?”

“It was in the paper.” Of course it was. I swear, Meadowlark was the only town left that had a thriving local paper. It was publicly funded, and everyone got a paper—whether they donated to it or not—and its biggest donor happened to be Amos Ryder.

Good for Meadowlark for supporting local journalism, I guess.

“Do you want the real answer?” I asked him.

“Always,” he said.

“I don’t know. Honestly, Wes, I don’t know what my dream is anymore.” Wes stopped walking. I took a few more steps before stopping and turning back to face him.

“You’ll figure it out. You always do.” That was the thing. I usually did, but I didn’t know how to do this—how to give up a part of myself, how to start over.

“This time I’m not so sure.”

“I am,” he said. He looked at me, and how much he cared about me was written all over his face. “Everything ends, Emmy. Whether you choose to keep racing or not, I do want you to know that I would love to see you ride one last time in the town that built us.”

That was what Wes left me with as we made our way back. He dropped me at the family stables, and I got started on my work for the day.

I tried not to think about how badly I wanted to talk to Brooks about what Wes had said, or about how quiet the stables were without him.