Home on the Range
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Kylie Wynter
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970K
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45
Chapter 1
Wren
The gravel crunches under my work boots as I step out of my beloved, classic pickup truck and stretch my body. The muscles in my thighs and calves are tight after so many hours in the car and I relish the release movement gives them. My hand comes up to shield my eyes from the bright sun as I scan the scenery in front of me.
The sprawling Montana ranch known as The Teller Farm and Estate features a large, pristine farmhouse and several matching outbuildings. Dozens of animals and people dot the green pastures. Thousands of acres nestled at the base of snow-streaked mountains and rugged terrain. I’d spent time on farms before but this one looked more like a luxury resort than a working ranch.
Puck leaps down from the cab of my truck and onto the ground next to me. I shut the creaky truck door and lean against the warm hood, wondering where to start and who to approach first.
“Hey, can I pet your dog?”
I look towards the house and see a freckle-faced, blonde kid who couldn’t be older than my 10-year-old nephew. His piercing blue eyes are settled on Puck.
“Sure,” I look down at my Border Collie. “Go say hi, Puck.”
Puck has been sitting patiently by my side, a long tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. He seems to know exactly what I say as he always does. With his tail wagging, he approaches the kid who kneels down to put his arm around Puck’s neck while scratching his face and chin.
“I heard they hire summer temps here,” I say. “Is there someone I can talk to about that?”
The boy looks up at me with a wide smile as he’s nearly knocked over by Puck’s wiggling excitement.
“Yeah, you should talk to my mom or dad,” his eyes turn back to Puck. “He’s a good boy, Puck huh?”
“Yeah,” I reply. “I think he likes you.”
“He’s pretty cool! Anyway, Mom’s in the house, follow me.”
The kid leads Puck and me towards the majestic farmhouse wrapped in rustic planks and tall windows. As we step onto the deep, wraparound porch, I turn to Puck.
“Down,” I say. Puck immediately lowers his belly to the ground. “Wait here till I get back.”
Puck responds by lowering his head to the ground between his paws and gives me a few wags of his tail to show he understands.
“Wow, he knows what you’re saying! My name’s Jeremy, what’s yours?”
“Wren,” I say, smiling at Jeremy. I am not around a lot of kids and I am always amused by their gleefulness.
“Nice to meet you, hope you snag a spot here so I can hang out with Puck some more.”
I chuckle. They are honest too.
“He’d like that.”
“Really?!”
The house is just as impressive on the inside with vaulted ceilings and thick wood beams stretching across the floor and ceiling. I’ve always wondered how people clean places like this. Jeremy leads me to the island in a large, country kitchen that is somehow both expansive and cozy.
“Hey Ma, got another applicant for ya,” Jeremy yells out.
A door off the kitchen opens and a beautiful, older woman with a long silver braid and blue flannel shirt rolled up to her elbows appears. She gives me a warm smile that I can’t help but return. Her eyes are a sparkling blue and her whole demeanor, much like her house and farm, exudes natural grace.
“Hi, I’m Meredith,” she holds out her hand adorned with several vintage rings and a dark line of dirt under the fingernails.
“Wren, pleased to meet you Meredith. An employee down at the auto store mentioned that you were hiring for the summer, I’m hoping that’s still the case,” I say as I hold my breath.
She drops my hand and plants a hand on her hip.
“Well, all of the entry-level, farmhand spots have been filled, have you ever worked on a ranch before?” She asks as she walks over to vintage, pot belly stove and puts a copper kettle on a burner.
“Yes ma’am,” I say, secretly hoping I make her proud and wondering why I care.
“Any specialty skills? Horse training? Apiary?” She asks as she turns the knob. After a few clicks, the burner ignites.
“Um, well, not necessarily,” I say as my shoulders slump. “But I appreciate your time.”
“Wait,” she says.
I pause and straighten my back as she turns to me.
“Sit, please.”
I would normally protest but she didn’t seem like the type of woman to concede. I gently lower myself into a curved, wooden barstool.
“So, tell me a little about yourself. Where are you from?” She asks gently as her eyes take in my full appearance.
The question always made me uneasy. My past is complicated and full of things I don’t want to talk about. Especially to a potential employer.
“Honestly, all over. I was a military brat and for the last year, I’ve been traveling across the country finding work where I can,” I say before adding, “I enjoy working outside.”
Meredith pours two cups of tea and sets one in front of me while she studies me.
“What brought you through Bryxton?”
I blew on the cup of tea to buy myself some time.
“I am hoping to rent a cabin in the Sawtooth mountains in a few months. I left California recently after finishing a gig on a wildfire team.”
Her eyebrows go up as she nods.
“What were you doing at the auto shop?”
“Purchasing a timing belt for my truck, I noticed mine was getting a little worn out,” I say.
Meredith considers this for a moment as she looks me over. I could see her gears turning and I was nervous even though I had no reason to be.
“Do you have experience with machinery?” She asks.
I cock my head to the side.
“Yeah, some,” I say. “I worked on a few vehicles at the fire camp as well as working on my 76 Chevy.”
I see her mouth turn up slightly at the corners.
“My son usually handles all the mechanical work himself but he’s just returned from a, er, challenging break so I think he would benefit from a helping hand,” she offers. “We often need tractors and trucks worked on throughout the summer.”
“Really?!” I ask, not even trying to hide my excitement.
“Yes but before you get your hopes up, just know that Lance Teller is not the...warmest individual, you’ll have your work cut out for you,” she says with a sad smirk that tells me their story is much more complicated than she’s willing to detail. I guess we have that in common.
“I’ve had my share of difficult bosses,” I say as I take a sip of the tea.
“Ha, well, I have a feeling he will set the curve for you,” she says.
I smile.
“I assure you, I have worked with many different kinds of people,” I say. “Would it help if I came back for an interview with him?”
She gives me a hearty laugh.
“No, that would probably not go well,” she says. “Let’s just go ahead and give this a shot, shall we? If you last a week, I’ll assume you are here for the summer.”
“Oh thank you Meredith! I appreciate the opportunity.”
She smiles but continues to study me.
“Unfortunately, I think the bunkhouse is a little full,” she says.
“I have camping gear, it’s easier since I have a dog. Is there a campground nearby?”
She sips her tea and shakes her head.
“It’d be a long daily drive. There is a studio apartment in the barn where you’ll be working, you can rent that for $250 per month. It’s nothing glamorous but it’ll beat a 50 mile commute any day,” she offers.
“I don’t want to be any trouble,” I say.
“Nonsense, it usually gets rented out every summer but nobody has snagged it yet. Is your dog well-behaved?” She asks.
“Yes, I know lots of dog-owners will say that but he is a very good listener. He has herded so he is used to this environment and he’s fixed.”
She smiles at me which makes me feel happy for some reason.
“Sounds great, I don’t see any issues then. Welcome to the farm hun,” she reaches her hand out again.
I take it and smile back.
“Thank you so much Ms. Teller,” I say.
“Please, Meredith.”
Just then, her phone rings.
“I really have to take this dear, can you hang out for a little bit? I will walk you down to the apartment shortly so I can show you around.”
I wave my hand.
“No problem, I’ll be out front.”
On the porch I find Jeremy sitting with Puck right where I left him.
“Hi Wren, I was just keeping Puck company.”
“Thanks Jeremy, I’m sure he loved it.”
“Did you get the job?”
“Sounds like it, I’m going to be staying in the barn too,” I say.
“Oh cool! I’ll get to hang out with Puck all the time!”
I laugh.
“That’s right!”
Suddenly, Puck lets out a short bark as if he is telling me someone is approaching. I squint into the bright afternoon sun and feel my pulse immediately quicken.
Everything from his cowboy hat down to his boots is covered in a layer of dust. A flannel shirt is flung over a thick shoulder while his once white undershirt clings to his muscled chest. Light-colored stubble graces the lower half of his face and his eyes are the same sparkling blue as Meredith’s. His swagger is exaggerated by a limp as he makes his way toward us. The deep scowl on his gorgeous face is trained directly at me.
“Oh,”Jeremy says as he looks up. “Hey Lance.”
