Make Me Stay

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

COLTON

The mornings come way too quickly, especially when I stay up late. Working on a ranch means every day is an early one, but it’s brutal when I don’t go to bed until after two a.m. Braxton, one of my best friends who’s also a ranch hand, wanted to go to the Honky Tonk bar last night, and since I owed him one, I agreed. That meant drinking past our personal limits, having Jake, Braxton’s roommate, drive us home, and me riding a four-wheeler to work before dawn. Luckily, I was able to rent a house from Jackson’s wife, Kiera. When she moved in with him, she needed to find a tenant, so I hopped on the opportunity. With a cleared half-mile trail leading straight to the B&B, it’s easy for me to ride a horse or take a four-wheeler to work.

Jackson’s family owns the Bishop ranch. And since he’s now helping Kiera with her horse training business, I’m in charge of the horseback riding lessons and leading the trail rides, which I love. Riding has been my passion since I was a kid, and now I get to share that with other people.

Once I’m parked near the barn, I walk toward the doors to start my day. Though it’s early summer, it’s still brisk in the morning, and the fog lingers. The horses know the drill as soon as they see or hear me. Most go to their stalls while others continue to sleep, but once the feed hits the buckets, they’re all up and impatiently waiting.

Over the past two and a half years since I took over Jackson’s job, I’ve learned how to get through my morning duties quickly. While I’ve worked on the ranch for over four years, I’ve been promoted from ranch hand b***h to the stable b***h. Feeding the horses, cleaning up their s**t, checking the water levels, and then going over my schedule are how every day starts—come rain or shine. Just because I have a day off doesn’t mean my tasks sit. Ranch life means the job must get done whether I’m here or not. Luckily, Braxton can cover for me. He usually helps Alex, one of the Bishop brothers, take care of the working horses used in the pastures to herd the cattle among other things. Since he has a lot of experience with horses, when I get sick—which basically never happens—or go on vacation—which also never happens—or have a day off throughout the week, he’s my backup. But truthfully, I’ve grown to really love and appreciate my job and don’t even care if I have a break away. I couldn’t ask for a better life, and I owe the Bishops so much for giving me the opportunity to prove myself.

After I feed the horses and fill the water troughs, I go inside to keep Jackson’s tradition of stealing coffee from the B&B alive. The sun is still sleeping, but John isn’t. He’s at the B&B at five a.m. every morning to make coffee, ensure breakfast is being prepared, and then double-checks the reservations. He’s anal most of the time about things being right, but so am I, so we work well together.

“Mornin’,” John says from his office when I walk in. “Coffee’s ready.”

I grab a cup and fill it to the top, hoping it will help this impending headache. I try hard not to make a mess with the sugar packets and creamer like Jackson does. I want to stay on John’s good side so he doesn’t boycott my morning routine.

“I don’t have anyone signed up for lessons this afternoon,” he tells me as I open the drawer and grab the bottle of ibuprofen. “But I think Jackson might need some help with training if you’re caught up. Since training is now a part of the family business, we all gotta pitch in.” His eyes meet mine, and he continues to sip his coffee. “I think he just wants to sleep late. You know how Jackson gets on Fridays.”

“Lazy,” we say in unison and laugh. John nods.

“I just have to go over to the hay barn and load the trailer because we need more bales in the loft. Yesterday afternoon, I noticed it was pretty empty.”

“Sounds good. Might be able to get Braxton to help you so you don’t have to make so many trips. Just text Jackson when you’re done and see if he still needs help.”

I finish my coffee before throwing the Styrofoam cup in the trash. “Will do. If something changes, let me know.” I grab the keys to the old ranch hand Chevy as I head out the door, then back it up to the lowboy trailer. Before I make my way across the property toward the barn where the hay is kept, I text Braxton and let him know my ETA.

Braxton: I already got the damn memo.

I chuckle and lock my phone, not even giving him a courtesy reply. When I pull up to the barn, I see him leaning against his parked truck. Yep, he’s not in a good mood, but honestly, it was his fault we went out last night. After two ibuprofen and a cup of coffee, I’m good. Learned that little trick from Jackson during his single days.

I roll down the window and catcall Braxton. “Hey, good lookin’,” I say with a whistle. He flips me off, which only encourages me to give him more s**t.

All the ladies wanted to go home with him last night. Shoulda sold tickets to ride the Buckin’ Bronco. Once I’m parked, I get out of the truck, and he walks toward me.

“Can we hurry and get this over with? I was right in the middle of helpin’ Alex change a tire on one of the Jeeps.”

I laugh. “So you were supervising him? Because seriously, how many people does it take to do that?”

Braxton rolls his eyes. A few years younger than me, he’s from Alabama and has one of the thickest accents I’ve ever heard. We teased him about it when he started working on the ranch a few years ago, but it drives the ladies wild. When I lived at the ranch hand sleeping quarters, we’d get into so much damn trouble. But then again, even though I moved out, we still do.

“Holy s**t!” I shout. “Is that a hickey on your neck?” I move the collar of his shirt. “Damn dude, was her mouth a vacuum? That s**t looks like it hurts.”

He waves me off, pushing me away. “Enough about me. Where the hell did you go last night?” He climbs up the wooden ladder that leads to the top area of the barn.

“I had Jake drive me home. My truck’s still at the bar. Wanna take me there later to get it?” I ask. “Oh, throw fifty bales over if you can.”

He smirks, puts on his leather gloves, just as I do, then starts tossing the hay over the edge. “I thought you went home with that redhead who was eyeing you all night. Actually placed a bet you did.”

“Then you lost, again,” I tell him. Slipping my hands under the twine bundling the hay, I walk it to the trailer and load it. “You’ll go broke betting on me bringing a woman home. I’m cleaning up my act. Regardless if they’re redheads.”

“That’s true. Your d**k might fall off from lack of use before that happens.” He chuckles.

“And yours might fall off from overuse or herpes. Hell, maybe both,” I taunt, making my rounds back and forth. Eventually, he climbs down from the loft and helps me finish loading the rest of them.

After a good three hours, the sun shines in the sky, and the trailer is packed. Braxton hops in his truck and leads the way so I won’t have to take him back to his truck after we unload. I drive slowly through the pasture until I hit the dirt road, continually checking in the rearview mirror to make sure I don’t lose any hay on the way. As I pull up to the barn, I see Braxton flirting with a woman leaning against the horse corral. I’m not sure he can turn it off.

I back the trailer into the large opening and whistle at Braxton as soon as I get out of the truck.

“You ruin all my fun.” He groans, and I see the woman trailing him. She smiles wide, looking me up and down.

“Howdy, miss.” I tilt my head at her. By the way she’s peeling off all my clothes with her eyes, I almost feel the need to tell her I have a strict personal I-don’t-sleep-with-the-guests policy, but I don’t. Braxton whips around, throwing her one of his boyish grins before happily putting on his gloves and carrying the hay bales into the barn. I chuckle at him trying to show off as she stands around, making small talk.

“You’ve lived here all your life?” she asks in a thick accent. I can’t tell if she’s from Boston or Jersey because I’m horrible at picking up on those things.

“Yes, ma’am. Born and raised,” I reply, helping Braxton. He’s basically flexing as he carries the hay over his head. If I would’ve known that all it took to motivate him was the presence of a pretty lady, I would’ve had a line of women out here watching him every day.

“I grew up in Alabama,” Braxton adds.

“Really?” She sounds intrigued, and I’m happy he takes the attention away from me as he lays the charm on thick.

Eventually, the trailer is unloaded, the hay is put up top, and the woman goes back to the B&B while Braxton smiles like an i***t.

“What?” he asks, guilty as sin.

All I do is shake my head. “If Mama Bishop finds out you’re getting guests’ phone numbers…”

“The only person who knows is you. So keep your mouth shut,” he says, and a throat clears behind us.

“And me,” Jackson adds, and I chuckle.

“f**k,” Braxton whispers.

Jackson lets out a booming laugh. “And I’ve been known to have the biggest mouth in the South, so there’s that.” Jackson holds out his hand. Braxton pulls the woman’s business card from his pocket, placing it in Jackson’s palm, and he proceeds to rip it into confetti. “I’m doing you a favor. Trust me.”

Jackson looks over at me. “I don’t need any help training after all. Got it all situated. Mama took the babies, and Kiera is helping. She’s been dying to do more since Kaitlyn was born, and the weather today is gonna be perfect.”

“Good. That means this jackass can take me to my truck.” When I look at Braxton, he has his arms crossed over his chest and his lips pulled into a firm line.

“Fine. Let’s go,” he tells me, turning and walking away.

“What crawled up his a*s and died this morning?” Jackson asks.

I shrug. “Might be all the whisky he drank last night combined with the Hoover vacuum that practically sucked his neck off, I suppose.”

Jackson shakes his head. “Been there.”

Not even a minute passes before Braxton is laying on the horn.

I lift my arms up at him, and yell, “I’m coming. Damn!”

I turn and look at Jackson. “He has the patience of a two-year-old.”

“Accurate, considering I’ve got two of them at home,” he adds, walking past me toward the B&B. “Try not to murder each other.”

“No promises.” As soon as I get into the truck, Braxton starts bitching about the phone number. All I can do is laugh at him. He basically has a Rolodex full of women’s numbers in his phone. You’d think he was playing a Collect Them All game.

After we make it into town, Braxton fills up his gas tank, then we head over to the grocery store to pick up a few things. “I just need to get a steak for dinner tonight. Since I’m already here.”

“Alright, whatever,” I say, considering I’m on his watch. I follow him through the aisles, and as we’re leaning over to look at the fresh-cut meat, I hear my name being called from behind me.

“Colton?” It’s a woman’s voice.

I turn around, and the color drains from my face. “Mallory,” I say behind the knot lodged in my throat.

“How have you been? It’s been…”

“Five years,” I finish her sentence, then look down and see a little girl with blond ringlets standing beside her. Mallory notices me glance at her, and my heart drops.

“Julia, this is Colton,” she tells her. The little girl politely smiles and then hides behind Mallory.

“Nice to meet you, Julia,” I greet with a grin even though I’ve known her since before she was born. My eyes narrow in on Mallory. “What are you doing here?”

“Moved back last month,” she explains. Being around her is awkward as hell, and I’m not really sure what to say.

Braxton, being the perfect distraction, walks up beside me, holding the biggest steak I’ve ever seen. He looks at Mallory, then looks at me. A smile touches his lips, though this isn’t a happy moment.

“Good seeing you,” I quickly say before introductions can be made. “Take care.”

All the air escapes my lungs, and I walk past Braxton, out the door, and wait by the truck. A few minutes later, he’s unlocking the door, and we climb inside.

“So that was her?” he asks, starting the truck.

“Yep. That’s the woman who destroyed my f*****g heart.”