I liked the way she said my full name. “I do a lot of things. Farming, Airbnb, gardening, odd jobs here and there. Anything to keep me busy and to keep this ranch afloat.”
She leaned back, matching my posture, and took another drink of her beer. “Admirable.”
“Why Wyoming?” I asked.
“Why not?” She shrugged.
I raised an eyebrow, letting her know I wasn’t satisfied with her answer. The corner of her lip perked up.
“It’s silly, really,” she said.
“I like silly. Hit me with it.”
Grace took a swig of her beer. When her gaze met mine again, she spoke. “Every year, I close my eyes and throw a dart at a map of the United States. Wherever it lands, that’s where I go for vacation.” Her cheeks flushed like she was embarrassed or something.
“That’s not silly at all. It’s like fate.” I let on a small smile. “But why do it that way though? Why not pick a place you really want to go? Heck, you could be in California or Hawaii right now, lying up on a beach with a pi?a colada in your hand. Not here in Dubois, Wyoming, eating beans and hot dogs with me.” I chuckled.
She laughed too but then got a little serious. Her blue, blue eyes flickered, and she let out a sigh.
“My life is very routine. Everything is planned and planned again. Every minute of my day is scheduled. This gives me freedom in a way.” Grace tilted her head.
I drank my beer and nodded. “I can relate to that. I had that freedom prior to taking over this ranch. Now everything that lives on it depends on me.”
“Why’d you give up the freedom?” she asked.
It wasn’t a question I wanted to answer. I didn’t like talking about what brought me back, but I figured Grace was the type of woman that would get the answer one way or another.
“Had to. My parents passed away so I moved back about a year and a half ago to take over the ranch.”
Grace swigged her beer. What thoughts were running through her head? In under an hour, she had learned three people close to me had died, and they all had lived on this ranch. Almost seemed as though it was cursed. At least that’s what the folks around town said. If I were her, I’d run for the hills before this land swallowed her up too.
“That must have been tough,” she said, folding in her lips.
“Yeah, it was.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes again. It seemed both Grace and I were comfortable with silence. Most people weren’t. They had to fill it with words. What they didn’t realize is a person could say so much more by not saying anything at all. She took another drink, and when she set the bottle down, it echoed, signaling it was empty. I considered offering her another but it was getting late, and I figured I should wrap this up before she asked me any more about my family or my past.
“I must ask: Was picking my ranch random too, or did you throw a dart at the Airbnb website?” I teased but I was serious. I wanted to know if this was fate too, or maybe not fate, maybe a part of the curse.
“No,” she said with a half smile. “I picked this place, Calvin.”
I smiled back and grabbed both our empty bowls, bringing them to the sink. I was happy to hear it was Grace’s decision to come here. There are so many things that are decided for us. We don’t choose where we’re born, who we’re born to, how our parents raise us, what values they instill in us, or even how long they’re a part of our lives. I hate that part of life, not having any control over it. It smacks you right in the face whenever it wants, and you’re just expected to take the hit and carry on.
I glanced over at Grace while I washed up the rest of the dishes. She look tired and was staring off at the patio door, almost as though she were in a trance or something.
I shut off the sink and dried my hands.
“Well, I gotta get up early. Cows aren’t going to milk themselves.”
Grace stood and tossed her empty bottle into the trash can.
“I’ll have coffee in the pot for ya in the morning. And I’ll leave the bread and peanut butter out in case you want a little something to eat.”
“Thanks, Calvin.”
“Need anything else before I turn in?” I started walking toward the hall. She leaned a little and lost her balance, stepping right into me. My arm brushed up against her, sending a small static shock. It was a spark like when you jump-start a car. The two cables. They’re electric. My heart rate sped up, and I took a deep breath to calm it down. I wasn’t ready for anything like that, I reminded myself. No matter how drawn I was to this peculiar woman, it was too soon.
I looked to her waiting for an answer. I couldn’t go off to bed without making sure she had everything she needed.
Grace shook her head. “I’m good. Thanks for dinner.”
“Anytime, Miss Grace. You sleep tight.” I nodded and continued down the hall toward my bedroom. It took everything in me not to turn back.
Day Two
5.
Grace
I had the best sleep of my life. Most people didn’t sleep well in strange places, but I’m not most people. I take comfort in the unusual. And there was something about the isolation the ranch offered that made me feel secure and at ease. The clicking sounds from the cicadas, howls of some animal or another, and hoot of an owl outside my window last night lulled me into a deep sleep. Quite the opposite effect of the blaring sirens and car horns in the city. Knowing there was nothing I had to be awake for was also a relief.
Dressed in a pair of black silk pajamas, I slipped out of bed and popped my head out the bedroom door. It was silent. A creaking sound somewhere deep in the home interrupted the stillness. It was impossible to tell where it came from, but the house had old bones and old bones cracked and groaned. I quickly padded to the kitchen, following the scent of the freshly brewed coffee Calvin had promised me. It was such a rare luxury for me to wake up after the sun did, and I relished in it. He must have been out somewhere on the ranch, tending to the animals or doing whatever it was country boys did. I picked up the mug Calvin had left out for me. It had a cow on it and the words, Wyoming, a place that will mooo-ve you. I laughed at the cheesiness of it and poured myself a cup of coffee. A door squeaked open just as I was about to head back to my room.
Calvin’s presence was punctuated by the slam of the screen door. His shirt was off, and my God, he looked better shirtless than I had imagined he would. It was like an artist had chiseled each ridge in his abs and perfectly sculpted his pecks. Beads of sweat covered his chest, neck, and forehead. I nearly dropped my mug. Calvin looked me up and down and blew out his red cheeks while taking me all in.
“Sorry,” he said, averting his eyes. He shuffled his feet in place as though he had forgotten how to stand up.