I needed the job at Eres Ranch in order to save up money for my sister or brother. I needed money to buy prenatal vitamins for Mama. Money to make sure her fridge was full. Money to make sure that somehow the baby could come into the world with a little bit more than I had.
Then, with the rest of the money, I’d buy a one-way ticket and leave Eres and never look back. Somehow, I’d convince Mama to come with me, too, with the new baby. The last thing she needed to do was raise a child with Charlie around.
Mama was right—we did have a roof over our heads because of Charlie. But just because someone gave you four walls to stay in didn’t mean they weren’t a prison. I couldn’t wait for the day that I collected enough money to get myself my own four walls. Those four walls would be filled with love, not threats. With happiness, not fear.
And the name Charlie Riley would be a distant memory.
Big Paw rubbed the back of his neck. “We were looking for ranch hands, not some girl who’s probably too afraid to get her hands dirty.”
“I’m not afraid of that at all. I’ll get down and dirty with the rest.”
“You have to be able to lift over sixty pounds.”
“I’ll lift seventy.”
He cocked an eyebrow and leaned forward. “You have to be here before the sun rises, and if you don’t finish the task, you stay after dusk, and there ain’t no overtime. You get paid by the daily tasks being completed, not by the hours you spend here. If you get done early, you can leave early. If you get done late, you’re stuck here late. Also, I don’t believe in three strikes. I believe in one. Mess up, and you’re gone. You understand, girl?”
If anyone else called me “girl,” I’d slam my fist straight into their nose to show them just how much of a girl I was, but hearing it come from Big Paw wasn’t an insult. He called it as he saw it in a straightforward way. He’d call any man younger than him “boy,” too, because he could. I was sure people who identified differently would be offended by the title Big Paw would give them, but he was too old to bother correcting himself.
Old dog, new tricks and all.
“I understand.” I nodded. “I’ll be the hardest worker out there, I promise.”
He grumbled some more and rubbed his beard. “Fine, but don’t come complaining to me when you ruin your favorite pair of shoes in the pigpens. You report to the stables tomorrow at noon sharp for training with my grandson, Ian. He’ll be in charge of getting you up and running.”
I sat up a bit straighter as my stomach tightened. “Wait, Ian is training me?” I frowned. “Are you sure Marcus or James or someone can’t take me on?”
“No. Those boys are already training a few other ranch hands.” He raised his brow once more. “You aren’t already making yourself difficult, are you?”
I shook my head. “No, sir—er—Big Paw. Sorry. That is fine. Noon tomorrow. I’ll be there.”
The idea of being trained by Ian Parker made me want to gag. He was known as the playboy rock star of Eres. Ian had graduated three years before me, and I’d been the lucky girl with my locker right beside his during my freshman year. Which meant I’d had a front-and-center viewing of him swapping spit with whatever small-town groupie was wrapped around his pinkie at the time.
I was shocked that mono wasn’t being spread around more due to Ian Parker and his manwhore ways. Nothing said I hate you more than having to wedge my way between him and blonde-chick-of-the-week to get into my locker. Now, he was responsible for training me at the ranch.
I doubted he even knew who I was, seeing as how I’d spent a good amount of my time in high school trying hard to not stand out. My wardrobe consisted of black on black with a sprinkle of black. It matched my charcoal hair, inky-black nails, and deep-green eyes. The darkness of it all went with my personality. I was a loner and found life a bit easier that way. Most people called me the solo goth of Eres and thought me unworthy of their time. Though a good handful of girls had muscled up the energy to bully me through the high school years, as if I’d been some bully charity case. Oh? Look at Hazel Stone minding her business—let’s make her stand out more by throwing food at her during lunch. That’s the attention she’s craving.
If I disappeared, no one would probably come looking for me. Not to be overly melodramatic, but it was true. Once I’d run away from home for two weeks, and when I’d come home, Mama had asked me why I hadn’t done the dishes. She hadn’t even noticed I was missing, and if my own mother wouldn’t notice, I doubted anyone else in Eres would. Especially someone like Ian. He was too busy with his hands either wrapped around a woman or strumming his guitar.
The next day, I showed up at the ranch two hours before I had to meet with Ian. I hung around the stables, wasting minutes before it was time to get to work. I didn’t have a car to get to the job, so it had taken me nearly thirty minutes to walk from Charlie’s place. The sun stung against my skin, forcing sweat to trickle down my forehead. My underarms were Shrek’s dreamland based on the swamp-like moisture attacking them. I held my arms away from my body, trying to stop the sweat stains from deepening, but the summer sun in Eres was unapologetic to the mere human beings it attacked.
When two hours had passed, I headed to the ranch office, where I was supposed to meet with Ian. I sat there for thirty minutes. Then forty-five minutes. An hour went by.
I hadn’t a clue what I should do. I’d checked my watch about five times, making sure I hadn’t blacked out and missed my appointment with Ian.
After waiting over an hour, I began walking around the ranch, hoping to cross paths with Ian or someone who could lead me to Ian. The more time that passed, the more nervous I grew, thinking that if Big Paw found out I wasn’t being trained, he’d cut me loose before I even had a shot at nailing the job.
“Excuse me, can you help me?” I asked a guy carrying a stack of hay on his back. He turned to me with an exhausted look. It had to be around fifty-some pounds of hay resting on him, and I felt bad for even interrupting him, but I couldn’t lose my job.
“Yeah?” he breathed, beaten to his core. I’d seen him around school too. He was James, Ian’s best friend. James was much less of a manwhore than Ian. He smiled a lot more, too, even with heavy hay about to break his spine. The two guys were in a band together called the Wreckage, and even though Ian was the lead singer, James was the heart of the music. People craved Ian, while they wanted to be James’s best friend. He was that nice of a guy. James wore a white T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off the arms and a backward baseball hat. His shirt looked like it’d seen better days, covered in dirt and rips, but still, he found a way to smile at me.
“My name is Hazel, and I’m supposed to be meeting with Ian for my training. It’s my first day.”
James arched an eyebrow before dropping the hay down to the ground. He brushed the back of his palm against his forehead and cleared his throat. “You’re working here?” he asked, sounding more baffled than I would’ve liked.
“Yes, I am. It’s my first day,” I repeated.
His eyes moved across my body, and he shook his head, making every insecurity I could’ve ever had come to the surface. It was funny how a simple look could light up one’s diffidence so easily.