Reuniting with the Rancher (Silver Creek Ranch)

3. LaLa

3

LALA

GREYSON

“Shit, how could I forget the music therapist arrived today?” Greyson muttered on his way back to his pickup truck.

He carried his to go order and a delivery order for the ranch. The customer was an L something. The grease smeared receipt was almost impossible to read in some parts, but the address was the cottage he threw in to sweeten the deal for Raina to find a qualified therapist. It looked like she planned on not cooking for the foreseeable future and his shoulder protested the weight of the order and the awkward way he had to carry it. He hoped this meant she was focused on work, that was a great quality in a professional.

The first crew of kids were due to arrive in a month and they just barely gotten everything ready in time. This therapist was the last piece of the team that would make Crystal Fountain Ranch a haven for kids recovering from trauma. If only he could focus on the task at hand… his mind, instead, was consumed by his promise to Ivy that involved a woman who still haunted his dreams. His nightmares, actually.

Gripping the steering wheel tight before releasing it along with a long, slow breath, Greyson reset himself.

“Ivy and the ranch. Those are your priorities,” he reminded himself. “Logan will find LaLa and you’re prepared all you can to support Ivy and after, LaLa will be a non-issue.”

The young teen caught Greyson’s attention as he drove up the road to the cottage. With his tall and thin frame, he possessed the gangly arms and legs of someone who had recently experienced a growth spurt. He had his dark locs banded up away from his face, wore headphones, a Prince shirt, and hummed a tune while he poked at something on the ground with a cane. Greyson gently tooted the horn to get his attention and waved when he looked up.

“Hey there! You’re not the new music therapist, are you?” he joked.

The kid crooked up a half smile that felt familiar before movement at his feet caused him to jump six feet in the air.

“Rattlesnake!”

Before Greyson could put his truck in park, the kid leapt onto the hood.

“Just stay there,” Greyson ordered as he rolled down the window all the way and looked more closely at the reptile that wound its way around the teen’s discarded headphones on the ground, hissing his irritation at being disturbed. “That’s a bull snake. It’s not dangerous.”

“It doesn’t sound not dangerous.”

Greyson chuckled. “Fair point. See his markings? They are similar to a rattlesnake, and he puts on a show with all that fussin’ and tail shakin’, but he’s missing a rattle.”

“He’s a good actor because those fangs look sharp.”

“Oh, they are. It’ll hurt to get bit, but it’s not poisonous.” He leaned in to share the snake’s secret. Caleb mirrored his movement. “They like to pretend they’re rattlers, so predators have the same reaction you did and leave them alone.” Greyson pulled out his phone and brought up a photo of a Prairie rattler, reaching it out the window and pointing out the differences to the kid. He appeared to relax a bit but was no closer to getting off the hood of Greyson’s truck or reclaiming his headphones on the ground.

Climbing out on his uninjured leg, Greyson slowly moved to the bull snake as the kid sucked in a breath and gave a low ‘uh un’ behind him. Greyson waited until he was close before grabbing the hissing snake from the back of its head.

“WHOA!” the young man yelped from his station on the hood.

The Bull snake twisted with indignation while Greyson picked up the headphones. Once he had them secured, he let the snake go, and it shot off toward the rocks. He picked up the cane and moved back over to the kid. “Greyson Monroe. I own Crystal Fountain Ranch.” He stuck out his hand for a shake.

“Caleb Bel-” he cleared his throat. “Jackson. Caleb Jackson.”

The kid gripped his hand firm and looked him in the eye. Greyson liked him already.

“Do you need this to get down?” Greyson moved the cane closer.

“Nah, it’s my auntie’s. She won’t use it, so I took it in case I came across something that could eat me.”

Greyson couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m on my way to meet your aunt now. Want a ride? I’ve got your dinner from the diner.”

The kid hesitated, and Grey understood. “Or let me park the truck out of the way and I’ll walk up with ya. I could use the exercise.”

Soon they were matching each other’s stride. Their slow amble let him concentrate less on his balance and more on the young man next to him.

“You own all this and do Uber Eats?”

Greyson laughed big again, switching his hold on the food and shrugging off Caleb’s nonverbal offer to help. “I was picking up my supper, and they told me they had another order for the ranch. Figured I’d get it here while it’s hot. And it was a chance to meet you and your aunt. Is she a bit stubborn? Is that why she won’t use the cane?”

“No, I think she’s trying not to show weak-,” Caleb shook his head slightly and stood up a little straighter and looked stiffly ahead. “I’m sorry. I don’t feel comfortable sharing my aunt’s private information.”

The sudden change in Caleb’s demeanor and tone took Greyson by surprise. He went from regular kid to someone who sounded like he had media training. The response piqued his curiosity, but his counseling training kicked in and he instead sought to show Caleb he respected his boundaries.

“I’m sorry Caleb, I wasn’t trying to pry. I was only asking from experience. I refused to use my cane until not using it caught up with me. I was stubborn as a mule but had to get out of my way for my own healin’. You’re right, your aunt’s privacy is her own and I’m her employer. I’m sorry for asking an inappropriate question. Thank you for sharing your boundaries.”

Caleb gave him a long look with a bit of a side eye like he expected pushback or an angle and when Greyson offered him none, he relaxed a bit and nodded. “You sound like my mom.”

“Will she be joinin’ you and your aunt soon? I’m sorry I’m clomping in like a big oaf who hasn’t done his homework. My assistant found your aunt and put in all the work. There’s a lot to get ready before our first set of visitors arrive.”

“Mom died a couple months ago.”

Greyson’s heart broke for the kid. His entire demeanor shifted, and he seemed to shrink into himself.

“That’s a rough road man, I’m sorry... How can we support you?”

Caleb shrugged.

“Well, if you need anything. Anything at all, even if it’s to talk, I’m a good listener. And if not me, we’ve got a couple of animals that are better than any licensed human.”

That made him smile.

“I’m serious. This whole place is dedicated to healin’,” he gestured with a nod to the land off to his left. “Sometimes the goats will whip out their little glasses and notepad when I’m having a tough day, and I tell them all my problems.”

Caleb laughed wholeheartedly at his antics. It transformed his face, and Greyson got another strange feeling of familiarity. The kid was still laughing as Greyson described the problems with having goats as therapists.

“That laugh is music to my ears, Boogie Bear. What’s so funny?” a quiet, slightly hoarse voice said from behind the screened-in front door.

His heart knew it before his brain could catch up. It beat in triple time and threatened to gallop out of his chest when the door creaked open.

Expecting to see platinum blonde, wavy hair against deep mahogany skin, fluffy obsidian curls tied up in threw him off and overflowing the top of a purple satin scarf. Her signature sunglasses, ones she’s worn for every performance and interview, were gone and in their place were simply those eyes. Eyes that in his weak moments he raged against and in his even weaker moments, dreamt about. Those eyes, make up free and widened in shock, mirrored the same eyes that were also his peace - his daughter Ivy’s eyes.

Lily swallowed hard, twice, and stepped forward, a slight rock to her step as she went. His eyes dropped to her legs as she moved and she halted, shifting her weight and standing taller. She lifted her nose and peered down at him from her position on the porch.

Shock and something else quickly shifted to something darker and Greyson’s heart hardened. A rage he thought he’d worked out and buried on the arid battlefields of Afghanistan and fields of Silver Creek Ranch resurfaced at this, his symbol of triumph and healing - Crystal Fountain Ranch. It shook him to his core, and he felt himself reverting to the cruel and angry man he’d been for far too long. Just as that old demon threatened to unleash, Caleb spoke.

“Auntie Lily, this is Mr. Greyson Monroe, Mr. Greyson. This is my auntie–”

“Dr. Lily Belmont.”

“LaLa Fair.”