Chapter 11: Chapter 11

LANCE

Wren finally pulls her head off my shoulder and rubs her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater. My desire to wrap her in my arms is stronger than ever, but I resist.

Learning about her struggles and seeing how it hasn’t hardened her like mine have hardened me makes me feel weak.

I used to think strength came from never showing your missteps, but now I think it’s about perseverance and openness.

Wren personifies strength and softness at the same time, and my admiration for her is growing.

I stand up and offer Wren my hand to help her up, looking for any excuse to touch her again.

On the way back out of the woods, our conversation lightens.

“I hadn’t seen the river yet, it’s gorgeous,” she says.

“It’s a good place to cool off when the summer days really start to heat up, you’ll see,” I say as I suppress a smile thinking of Wren wading into the river.

Back at Big Red, I turn to her. “You should join us for dinner again tonight,” I say.

She smiles. “Okay,” she says with a small shrug. “Same time as last week?”

I nod and we say our goodbyes. I resist the urge to look back as I walk away.

***

“Hey, lover boy!” My brothers, Chris and Devin, are playing basketball in the driveway.

“Loverboy?” I ask Chris while crossing my arms.

“I saw y’all last night outside her apartment, and some of the others mentioned a scuffle at the bar before,” Chris says as they stop playing and approach me.

“Jesus, you guys gossip more than Mom’s book club.”

“Like she says, ‘Nothing happens on the farm without someone seeing!’” Chris laughs and I roll my eyes. “So? What’s her story?”

I shake my head. “None of our business.”

“Come on, Lance, this place is boring as shit compared to Durham. Ya gotta give me something!” Chris says.

“Sorry, little brother, but I’ve personally had enough drama to last me a lifetime.”

“You know that won’t stop people from talking.”

“So let ‘em talk. Come on, let’s play a round of H-O-R-S-E.”

***

Later that evening, I think about going to get Wren for dinner but decide I should give her some space and let her arrive on her own.

Instead, I find myself having a beer with Chris while my mom lectures me about my fight with Tad.

“What on God’s green Earth makes you think a bar fight is a good idea, Lance? You had a hematoma less than a year ago!”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“I’m calling the doctor in the morning. You need to have a scan.”

“If there was a problem, we’d know about it by now,” Chris says.

Mom’s eyes widen even further and I shoot Chris a dirty look. Delivery was never his strong suit.

Mom goes back to mixing the salad she just made.

“Honestly, Lance, when are you all going to grow up? A bar fight? It’s like you’re sixteen again.”

“I was defending someone,” I say. “You know I don’t just go around getting in fights for no reason.”

“Yeah, but that’s what Tad does, AND he delivers supplies for the ranch. For God’s sake, be smarter, Lance.”

“I didn’t know he was still working at Northwest,” I say.

“Well, I don’t know if he will be much longer. After I heard, I called and told the owner I didn’t want Tad coming to the farm anymore,” Mom says.

“What? Why? Mom, that’s ridiculous.”

“I can’t trust him here anymore, Lance. Sorry, but you made this bed.”

“And what if Tad flies into a roid rage and wants revenge?”

Mom stops and puts her hands on her hips.

“Then he’s even dumber than he looks. What am I supposed to do? This isn’t the first incident between the two of you. I’d just feel better if he wasn’t here at all and that’s that.”

“Dad, back me up. This is a total overreaction,” I say to Dad as he walks in with Grant.

“Not a chance, son. I will always side with your mother,” he says as he kisses Mom’s cheek.

“Wise words, Len,” Grant says, and I roll my eyes.

“Hey everyone.” Wren walks in wearing jeans and a long-sleeve top the color of an eggplant. Her hair is twisted back into a low bun and she looks effortlessly beautiful.

“It smells amazing in here, Meredith. What can I do to help?”

Mom smiles warmly at her. “Can you talk some sense into these boys?”

Wren puffs her cheeks out dramatically. “If I had those kinds of skills, I’d be a rich woman.”

Mom laughs, and I can’t help but smile.

“Then can you set the table? I thought we could eat out on the patio since it’s such a nice evening,” Mom says.

“Sure, where are the plates?”

“I’ll grab them,” I say.

“I can help,” Grant says at the same time.

Wren looks between the two of us.

I beat him to the plates and motion to the silverware drawer. Wren grabs the silverware and follows me outside. Grant shrugs.

“Wow,” Wren says as we step out on the patio. “Everything here looks like it’s out of a Martha Stewart magazine.”

The patio is made of perfectly fitted flagstone, an outdoor kitchen sits on the side by the house, and a large wooden farm table that matches the one inside sits under a cedar pergola covered in hanging lights.

Patio heaters on either side keep it comfortable when the sun goes down.

“What’s that for?” Wren asks as she points at the pavilion in the field below.

Steps lead from the patio down to a huge, covered pavilion with a pitched roof and concrete floor. A stage borders one side, and a buffet and bar on the other, otherwise it’s empty.

“They use it for events—birthdays, the occasional wedding, a harvest party. They’re hosting a summer solstice party there next weekend,” I say.

“Oh, cool,” she says.

“Everyone who works at the ranch, vendors, and friends are welcome. It’s a nice way to start the season,” I say. “You should come.”

“Is it fancy? Like, do people dress up?”

I laugh. “Some do, but you don’t have to. Don’t worry, it’s not black tie or anything.” She looks slightly worried. I lean toward her, and she looks me in the eyes intently. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Wren blushes, then nods and smiles. I can’t help but smile back.