Page 84 of Between the Boards
”God damnit, Cade,” I mutter as I start my truck's engine and drive through, stopping next to his truck.
I watch in my rearview mirror as he closes the gates behind him and returns to the trucks, but rather than getting back into his, he swings the passenger side door of my truck open and hops in.
”Why the hell are you in my truck and not yours?” I ask.
”Because I ain’t driving it back to this gate again, just to drive it back home,” he says in a gruff tone. “Once you’ve said what you have to say to whoever you’re here to talk to, just drop me right back here so I can lock up behind you.”
“What if I don’t have anything to say to anyone, and I just came here to visit my family?” I ask.
He scoffs. “Sure, whatever you say, hotshot.”
He buckles his seat belt and waves his hand, gesturing for me to start driving. I glance at him a few times as I drive down the dirt road that leads us to the main house, and I hate how unfamiliar he feels.
He talks to me like some annoying stranger, not like I’m his brother. I keep my mouth shut for the rest of the drive, focusing instead on the trees that line the dirt path, the birds singing in the trees, the smell of horses and my moms cooking floating in the air. It’s all so familiar, but it’s been years since I was last here.
The house comes into view, and my throat tightens when I spot my mom sitting on the porch swing and reading a book the way she always did. She looks up, and jumps to her feet, in complete shock as she watches the truck slow to a stop just in front of the house.
And when I climb out of the car, her book clatters to the floor and she grabs onto the wooden beam for support.
“Colton?” She whispers, eyes wide. “Is that really you?”
The tightness in my throat gets worse and my vision begins to blur as I watch her slowly walk down the porch stairs, holding onto the railing like she might drop any second.
“It’s me Momma,” I say, my voice breaking.
She runs down the last two steps, in such a hurry to get to me as if I might disappear if she isn’t fast enough, and launches herself into my arms with a tight hug. I wrap my arms around her and rest my head on her shoulder, taking a deep breath of her scent.
She smells like the ocean, largely due to the fact that she takes a morning swim every single day at our private beach. It’s been her routine since before she had kids, and it’s part of the reason the family ranch sits right on the edge of the water.
That’s probably why I love surfing so much too, the smell of the ocean reminds me of her and that brings its own sense of comfort because of it.
The sound of my truck door slamming pulls us apart and I watch as Cade walks past us and up the porch stairs, picking up her book along the way.
“I’ll be waiting in the kitchen for you to explain what it is that you’re doing here.”
“He doesn’t need an explanation to come home,” my mother says defensively.
Cade turns to look at us, tapping the spine of the book against his palm. “After so many years away, he sure does.”
He turns his back to us and enters the house, screen door slamming shut behind him. My mother turns around with an apologetic expression, hands still bracing my arms.
“Don’t let him scare you away, okay?” She says, giving me a comforting squeeze. “He’s been spending too much time with your father and that cowboy attitude’s been rubbing off on him.”
I force a small smile. “Where is dad anyway?”
“Oh you know,” she says, waving her hand around nonchalantly. “Out doin’ horse things somewhere out there with your other brother.”
She smiles with a little sparkle in her eye before dragging me up the porch and into the house. As promised, Cade is waiting for us in the kitchen, leaning against the sink with a glass of water in his hand.
He tracks my every move as my mother walks me to the table. “Need anything to drink, sweetheart?” She asks, rushing to the fridge. “We have freshly squeezed orange juice and lemonade.”
“He’s a grown man, Ma,” Cade mutters. “I’m sure he can get his own damn drink.”
“Cade Austin Harrison,” my mother says firmly, slamming the fridge closed.
His expression changes from annoyed to scared, and it brings back memories of when we were kids and he’d always be the one getting into trouble.
“Your brother's been gone for years,” she says. “You’d better start behavin’ more welcoming or I’ll put you out with the pigs.”
