Chapter Text
“Held close all the time, knowin’ this was all for you.”
Warnings: loss, trauma.
The hot summer air spills in through the open windows, your hand settled out the edge of the door to allow your fingers to dance in the whirl of heat. Even with the sun threatening its pull downward on the horizon, the earth is still scorching in the late July heat.
Your head turns to watch a horse racing alongside the road, rider bent forward with their body pitched low. The horse's legs pump hard into the ground, ripping up dry dirt and creating a dust storm in its path, head lowered, and ears flattened. The three of you match pace for a brief moment, your metal machine a stark contrast to the beautiful set of bones, muscle, and freedom that moves in steady beats.
The person atop the animal suddenly leans back, pulling the beautiful creature into a slower pace as you lean your head upwards to watch in the rearview mirror, a small smile spreading across your lips.
You missed the freedom of it. The hot summer air fighting against your clothes, sweat beading on sunburnt skin. The trap beneath denim and leather, all to protect you from the beating sun and thick dust that swells every now and then with the rare gusts of wind that offer nothing but more dry heat. It’s a beautiful blessing of a moment, when everything falls still except for the earth itself– still moving in its purest form, even the animals pausing to watch it occur.
You slow your car as you reach the edge of town, stopping to wait for a pair to cross the street with a hand raised in thanks. Your fingers hesitate before raising, a slow nod of your head as you ease off the brake and continue to the opposite side of town, head on a swivel.
Everything is exactly as it was. It almost feels like it was all frozen in time, while you were picked out and thrust into the city life, leaving it all behind.
It had waited for your return, patient as always. The town breathed back to life, no longer just a dusted-over memory tucked back far enough for you to ignore in late nights of partying, long days studying, endless club excursions, and attempts to make the city feel right for you. But it never did.
It never felt like this.
The sun bled holy colors across the sky– streakings of red, gold, orange. Your car groaned as it thunked down the gravel driveway, kicking up dust in its path until it hauled to a slow stop beside the beat-up truck your grandfather– Pa– had driven your entire life. It was well kept, aside from the scrape on the side from a fender bender that your Pa affectionately referred to as the incident of ‘07.
You pulled yourself out of your sedan, door slamming shut as you carefully approached the truck. Your heart pounded heavily against your ribs as your fingers dusted over the old scape, a small smile forming on your face as you released a slow sigh, shaking your head. Despite all the terror and uncertainty this was producing, you still felt such immense comfort at the familiar sight of the dented metal.
God, it all was exactly how you had left it.
The two rocking chairs on the front porch, a little wooden table set beside them to hold endless books and glasses of homemade iced tea. The worn Welcome to the Farm! mat your Pa insisted on keeping, no matter how many seasons weathered it. And Honeydew. Sweet, sweet Honeydew.
The old cat lounged on the stairs, tail flicking in the summer heat. You let out a low whistle, grinning as the cat’s head perked up before she sauntered over, pouch swinging as she raised her head to bump against your downstretched hand. Her purrs vibrated under your hand as you stroked over her head, down her back, scratching just at where her hips met her tail.
“Hi, Honey,” you murmur in a soft greeting, earning a quiet noise of acknowledgement from her. She flopped onto her side, inviting your hand to her soft belly as she batted gently at your arm– though she meant no harm with her claws tucked safely inside her paws.
You rubbed gently under her chin before turning back to your car, retrieving the keys through the open window to unlock the front door, pushing it open slowly to reveal the house.
It was like a dollhouse, stuck in the same spot you remembered leaving it the last time you had played. But it wasn’t. You knew that much. You knew just how many years your Pa spent alone after you stopped being able to visit, your father refusing to take time away from work no matter how old Pa was getting.
After your Grandmother passed, he had given up on visiting the man. They grew distant– painfully so– only interacting to drop you off for summers and breaks and wish one another a happy holiday.
It ached to know you had done the same as your father, though it was clear Pa held no resentment towards you, even despite the aching parallels. He knew better than that.
You’re ripped from your thoughts when you hear the rustle behind you, foot stepping back on the porch as you whirl around to face the noise.
A woman stands, backlit by the sunset, eyebrows set in an intense scowl that can just be made out in the shadow of her cowboy hat. Her hair is set in a perfect braid that settles over her shoulder, arms crossed firmly. She’s impossibly intimidating. She’s dressed in a perfectly clean white cotton shirt tucked into jeans, belt buckle glinting in the sunlight, and boots coated in dried dirt.
“The hell are you?” Her accent is thick, only adding to her sharp tone as your mouth opens, searching for the right words as you shove the rush of emotions you had just been experiencing back down. You did your best at closing the door tightly, making sure to lock it on the way to keep them at bay.
You settle against the railing, eyeing her up and down from your position above her on the porch. She’s an insane unit– tall as all hell, muscles bulging against the thin fabric of her shirt. You can’t help but stare, struggling to find the words to pluck from your dry throat at the sight of her. You hadn’t seen anyone like her last time you had been in town.
“Tim’s granddaughter,” you finally manage out, lifting the key up that had been left to you, “left me his farm.”
The words feel wrong in your mouth, so emotionless. She doesn’t even know all of the years you spent tending to the horses, chasing the barn cats around while the farm dogs watched from their spots, lounging in the shadows of the trees and fences to escape the midday heat, Pa scolding you for bringing the chickens into the kitchen because if the cats can, so can they!.
He’d given up by the time you were twelve and realized you could just sneak them up to your room to spend the night in your bed if you really wanted to. He gave up on a lot of scolding with you, never meaning it in any harsh way– just a tired sigh as he ran his large hand over his face, removing his hat as he shook his head.
“Ever you want, Dove,” he’d often say, folding for his favorite–and only– grandchild with painful ease. He loved you as easily as breathing each day, as simple as that. And he would never let you forget it.
“You?” The woman snorted, eyes raking up your frame. Ouch.
“Yes, me,” you shoot back, eyes narrowing as you fold your arms over your chest, mimicking her pose.
Honey climbs the stairs to sit beside you, watching the woman with a flickering tail that dangled over the top step.
“Guess you do live here,” she muttered, eyeing the way that Honey walked through your legs before letting herself inside. You raise an eyebrow at the woman, an irritated expression printed across your face.
Who the hell does she think she is?
“Clearly, I have a damn key–” you start, raising the key once more.
“Yeah, city girl, I know. You were danglin’ it for me before, my eyes work,” she cuts you off sharply, waving a hand in dismissal. She turned to leave, earning an exasperated noise from you.
She seriously wasn’t even going to introduce herself?
“You can call me Dove,” you call after her, watching as her body freezes. She glances over her shoulder, snorting as she shakes her head.
“Not callin’ you anytime, city girl,” she responded simply, shoving her hands into her pockets to cross the field back to the ranch across the field.
Great. What a lovely new neighbor.
The sun has long set by the time you’ve moved everything in your car into the house and settled it all into its new spot– the same bedroom you had spent every summer break in, now noticeably smaller than it had felt as a young teenager.
You sighed as you ran a hand through your hair, shaking your head slightly. You jumped at the noise of a rattle on the front door, calling down a be right there! as you raced down the stairs, nearly tripping at the bottom. You swing the front door open, porch light illuminating the unmistakable face before you.
“Ellie Williams,” you breathe into the warm night air, a smile spreading across your face as the girl returns a sheepish one, rocking back and forth on her heels. You waste no time yanking her into a hug, earning a soft laugh as she wraps an arm around you.
“Couldn’t believe it when I heard it, Dove. When did you get back?” She asked as she followed you inside, toeing off her dirt-coated converse by the front door.
“Maybe three hours ago? Word travels fast,” you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you lower yourself into a chair in the kitchen. Ellie sits down beside you, sighing slowly as she looks around the room.
“Same as when we were fifteen, huh?” She murmured, shaking her head in near disbelief.
“How’s Joel?”
“Ah, same as always. Grumpy bastard,” she mumbled, smiling as she turned her attention to you.
“How are you? City girl gone country once more, huh?”
You roll your eyes at the remark, groaning softly. Seriously? Ellie, too?
“God, first my neighbor and now you with the city girl shit?”
Ellie’s smile falters as she leans back in her chair, hands settled on her thighs. She peers out the window at the property across from yours, rolling her eyes in a painfully slow motion.
“I’m sure that one’s a treat,” she mutters as you stand up, collecting a freshly rinsed glass to fill for her and set it down in front.
She thanks you softly as you do so, returning to your seat beside her.
“What do you mean?” You start cautiously, eyebrows furrowing as your hand drops to greet Honey, who slinks by to greet Ellie, purring softly as she rubs against her pant leg.
“Anderson is a damn asshole,” she sneers the word after taking a sip of water, tilting her head back, “that’s what I mean.”
“Anderson?”
“Abby Anderson. She’s fuckin’ terrifying, man. And she has it out for me, I swear. Probably the same for half the town… wouldn’t be surprised, with the temper that one seems to have,” she muttered, shaking her head slowly.
The two of you caught up on life until you were yawning and bleary-eyed, Ellie noting it was probably time for her to head home.
“Well, I ought to get back to my– Joel. To… Joel,” she stammered out, eyes averting from your gaze as you two said your goodbyes. She saw herself out as you went upstairs to shower, the fatigue of the day truly hitting you as you ascended up the wooden staircase.
You made your bed with the fresh sheets you had brought from your apartment, climbing in after pulling on a light tank and shorts. The AC unit hummed softly in the window, a quiet noise to lull you to sleep quickly from the long day.
The morning sun spilled in through the sheer curtains situated over the window, waking you up earlier than you were used to. It was time to get into the habit of that once more.
You tugged a pair of jean shorts on, a short-sleeved buttoned shirt over a cotton tank as you ran suntan lotion over your skin to create some sort of barrier from the pounding sun. Even this early, you weren’t risking it.
Your nimble fingers pulled your hair into two braids, situating a baseball hat over your head before making toast with the bread and butter you had grabbed on your way into town– the basics, until you dragged yourself to the town market. And so you did just that.
You were out the door, tugging your old boots on your feet– they still fit like a glove, to your relief, clean from your grandfather meticulously tending to them in your absence.
You paused before opting for his truck, sitting in the driver’s seat and slamming the door shut behind you as you sank into the worn leather, eyes shutting.
The memory ran over your brain like cold water– Pa insisting on how you were not driving his truck.
“It’s all cornfields and half-paved roads, Pa!”
“Exactly my damn point, Dove.”
Dove. The name carved above the front doors of the barn, still visible despite years upon years of weather and wear.
This was all for you.
It always had been. You slid the keys into the ignition, smiling as the old machinery kicked and sputtered to life, letting out a soft groan at its awakening. You fastened your seatbelt, humming softly as you adjusted the radio. Static. You were ordering an aux cord as soon as possible.
You drove into town with the windows down, hand settled out the window. It was the slightest bit cooler this morning, not quite scorching yet due to the sun’s slumber overnight. It wouldn’t be long before it was back.
The day’s errands took longer than you had anticipated. You had been stopped by every familiar face, shocked and overly excited to see you back in town– and apparently, you had grown, despite still standing at the same height as you were at sixteen.
It wasn’t hard to welcome the fussing, the compliments, and did your best to answer some questions while avoiding the prying ones– yes, you were taking over for Tim. You were here for good–or as long as you could manage. The drive had, in fact, been incredibly long from New York. No, the farmhouse was in great condition. No, you weren’t needing help (or at least just yet).
You arrived back mid-day, noticing the animals were out now. You had been told about the farmhand, how you were only responsible for getting them in at night. Guess that was starting today, since they had already been neatly tucked away by the time of your arrival. Early night for the critters, and they were clearly happy to be out.
You put the groceries away, greeting Honey before exiting out the back, smiling as an old farm dog lumbered your way.
“And how are you, Henry?” You murmur as you pass a hand across his short fur, his curled tail wagging as he huffs happily under your touch.
A horse runs up to the fencing, ears perked and eyes wild as it chuffs excitedly. You grin as you approach, boot-clad feet finding the bottom post as you hoist yourself up to wrap your arms around the neck of the creature, burrowing your face into the soft neck.
“God, how I missed you,” you murmur softly, brushing the mane off the warm neck of the animal to run your fingers through the coarse hair.
You hop down to walk along the fenceline, greeting the horses as they trot over to inspect you– some familiar faces, some new.
Your movements pause as you approach a separate fenced area, smiling at the clucking noise that echoes from the small coop. You open the gate, stepping in to greet the animals, and nearly lose your voice at the shout that erupts from your throat as one charges, beak rearing back to aim at your boots as you hop onto the fence, cursing loudly.
You feel eyes on you. Burning. Human ones.
You turn slowly to see the woman from yesterday–Abby– leaning over the fencing of her back porch. She shakes her head at you, face adorning an expression you can’t quite make out, but can infer it’s nothing good. She turns to walk back inside, leaving you as the sole witness to the horror of the rooster that crows below you, desperate to destroy both your boots and your dignity.
God, this was going to be a hell of an adjustment.