“Do you not have service here?” I held up my phone as he handed me the opened beer.
“No, ma’am. Gotta go into town for that, but I do have a landline if you need to make a phone call.” Calvin pointed to a pale green phone hanging on the wall. A long, coiled cord connected to the phone and the base, practically stretching down to the floor like it had been pulled too tight at one point.
“Oh, I just wanted to send a quick text to a friend to let them know I arrived safely. What about Wi-Fi?”
“I did. But the router needs replacing.” He leaned against the counter and took another swig.
The breath got stuck in my airway as I tried to release it, and I nearly choked. I took a quick swig. There was no mention in the listing about a lack of cell service. You’d think that would be something to note but perhaps that was the norm around here. No Wi-Fi was frustrating as well, but then again, maybe I was just too attached to being attached.
“You all right?” he asked. His eyes were full of concern.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
It wasn’t the time to make a fuss over cell phone service or the internet. I had just gotten here, and I was here to relax. Besides, it was probably for the best that no one would be able to get ahold of me.
4.
Calvin
“What’s on the stove?” Grace asked.
She looked at me a little different now that she knew about my ex. Death always changed how we viewed the world and one another. I hoped I hadn’t made a mistake by mentioning it.
“My specialty. Baked beans, bacon, and hot dogs,” I said with a smile.
Her face remained in neutral. Grace was clearly not impressed with my cooking skills. If I had known how pretty my guest was, I would have picked up something a bit more civilized, but her profile picture on the site was grainy at best.
“Do you want some?” I offered. Food was included in her stay if she wanted it. Most of my guests only used the ranch as a place to rest their heads at night, leaving early in the morning and returning late in the evening. It was nice to have someone here for dinner.
Her nose crinkled up but she quickly relaxed it. She shook her head. “I planned on grabbing something in town, and I wouldn’t want to be an inconvenience.”
“Nonsense. You’re not an inconvenience. Besides, it’s getting a bit late to be driving on these roads. Lots of wild animals come out at night.” I grabbed two bowls from the cupboard and filled them up.
“You’re not one of them vegetarians, are you?” I asked, placing the dish and a spoon in front of her.
Grace looked at the food and then up at me. “No, not at all. I just . . . I don’t really eat this type of thing.”
Taking a seat beside her with my food and beer, I immediately shoveled a spoonful of it into my mouth. The sweetness of the beans, the meatiness of the hot dogs, and the saltiness of the bacon melded together with each bite.
Her eyes were wide, and she hovered the beer right in front of her mouth as if she were trying to hide her reaction from me.
“Just try it.” I smiled. “I promise you’ll love it, and if you don’t, I’ll eat yours too.”
Grace set the beer down and hesitated for a moment before picking up the spoon. She scooped up a single bean.
“You’ve gotta get the bacon and the hot dog too.”
She glanced in my direction and then dove her spoon into the bowl. Holding it in front of her, she stared. “Here goes nothing.”
Grace closed her eyes and pinched her nose shut with her other hand and stuck the spoon straight into her mouth. It was rather dramatic, but I’d expect that from a woman like her. While she chewed, she kept her nose plugged and her eyes closed. When the flavors hit just right, just like I knew they would, her eyes burst open and her fingers let go of the sides of her nose.
“That’s actually really good.” She happily scooped up another spoonful.
“I told ya so. You’ve gotta trust me.” I chuckled.
We ate quietly for a few minutes. The only sound was our spoons clanking against the bowls.
“So, you said you don’t eat stuff like this. What do ya eat?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“Normal stuff.”
“Oh, so I’m not normal?” I teased.
She laughed and told me that wasn’t what she meant.
“I’m just joshing ya.” I smiled.
There was another silent period for a few minutes. It was like neither of us knew what to say, or perhaps we were both being cautious with our words.
“Tell me about yourself, Grace,” I said, leaning back in my chair.
She took a swig of her beer and looked at me, her blue, blue eyes fixated on mine. It was the only way I knew how to describe those eyes of hers. Blue, blue.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything, but let’s start with, what do you do for a living?” I folded my arms in front of my chest.
“I work in banking,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Impressive.” I took another drink, and she nodded.
“Your turn. What about you, Calvin Wells? What do you do for a living?” She cocked her head.
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.