Page 4 of Wildflowers & Whiskey

I grab my phone without hesitation, ignoring the nagging voice warning me against it, because let’s face it, I may as well be consistent today. The glow of the screen burns my tired eyes as I pull up my “runaway list”—a collection of fleeting destinations and impulsive flight searches saved in my notes. I scroll through the usual suspects: Lisbon, Prague, New Zealand. But tonight, none of them spark even a flicker of excitement.

Maybe I really am destined to stay in this ordinary London life, where my only escape is either through dissociating or between the pages of a book. My mind drifts back to my current read—the one set in a quiet little town, on a ranch surrounded by nature instead of crowds and traffic. A place where the sun rises over wild grasslands rather than concrete towers. Could that be what I need?

Despite knowing full well that walking out of work means I probably can’t afford a new trip anytime soon, my fingers move across the screen, driven by stubborn defiance. I start searching for ranch destinations, flicking through listings and images, trying to picture myself in that setting. And then I see it. An ad that seems almost too perfect, like a golden ticket out of here. At least temporarily.

Ranch Work Scheme – Live and work on a Cattle Ranch this Spring! Experience the country lifestyle. Paid job, accommodation provided. No prior experience necessary.

I blink at the ad and click the link without thinking, half-expecting one of those sketchy, too-good-to-be-true scams. Instead, a clean, legitimate-looking website loads with all the details:

Work with cattle on a ranch in the small town of Wildbrook Hollow, Texas Hill Country, USA.

Accommodation provided. Meals included. Time to explore.

Paid position. Open internationally (flights not included).

My eyes linger on those last words: flights not included. And just like that, the small flicker of hope that had sparked in my chest vanishes, snuffed out by reality. The universe, ever the cruel magician, makes my dream disappear with a cheap sleight of hand. Poof. Gone.

I don’t have enough savings for the flights. Not even close. But still… I can’t look away from the screen. This wouldn’t be just another backpacking trip or fleeting getaway. It’s a chance to live somewhere else. To trade my tourist status for something real.

I’ve travelled all over the world, but I’ve never been more than a visitor, an observer passing through. Maybe that’s why I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere. But this, this could be different.

My thumb hovers over the “Apply now” button. What if I just… apply? The voice in my head is small but annoyingly persuasive. I could always get a small loan, right? And before my thoughts spiral and talk me out of it, I click the button.

My fingers move with a reckless sort of hope, rushing through the form without caring for perfection, as if leaving the commas out and being brutally honest might keep my expectations low enough to survive disappointment. After all, even if by some miracle I land the position, I would still have to figure out how to afford the flights. That's a future me problem. For now, I press “Submit” and hope that just the act of applying will be enough to quiet the chaos in my head.

I place my phone back on the bedside table, burrito myself into my duvet, and close my eyes. And as sleep slowly pulls me under, I cling to the dream that this impulsive, not-so-ten-minute scroll has offered me.

Chapter Two

Colt

It’s been about two weeks since I pitched the idea of the “immersive ranch scheme,” and here I am, with Wade, as he scrolls through applications from people all around the world. The ad got a lot more interest than I imagined, and I can’t help but let the rising wave of excitement flood through me. Feels like I’ve been let loose in a candy store. Too much to pick from and too wired to keep still. The prospect of finally having real company out here. Because out on this ranch, loneliness is a frequent visitor made worse because most of my interactions are with a man who's practically a stranger to me, despite the fact that we share half our blood.

Then there are the ranch hands. Good men. Hard working. But their loyalty lays with Wade, and that alone builds a wall between us.

A low grunt rumbles from Wade’s direction, a classic sign that he is unimpressed.

“What is it?” I ask, even though this grumpy routine is basically his default setting.

He shrugs, still scrolling. “None of these people have the backbone to work on a ranch.”

He says it with such confidence, like he knows these strangers personally. It pisses me off. He never gives anyone a real chance—not even my mother. All it took was one big, explosive argument when he finally returned from playing big-shot rodeo cowboy.

Even though I was just a boy, every detail from that night is still crystal clear. My mother, who tried her best to raise me while he was off “chasing his dream”.

His silence said it all. He gave up on her. On our family.

A weak man hiding behind a tough exterior. That’s all he is.

Before I let my mind wander from the task at hand, I force myself to remain calm, knowing that this scheme hinges on Wade’s willingness to give it a shot.

“What exactly don’t you like about these people? They all seem like hard workers, and that’s what we need, isn’t it?”

Wade shoots me a look sharp enough to cut steel. “Okay son, tell me how the 21-year-old kid who’s lived off mommy and daddy’s paycheck while running some doomed side hustle proves they’ve got the work ethic to survive here?”

His stare is so intense that I swear he can also see the flicker of doubt within me. Sure, he’s got a point. A lot of these applications are from young people looking for a cheap escape rather than an experience to work hard and immerse themselves in the reality of ranch life. But we are not doing this scheme to get someone who knows the ins and outs from the get-go. If that were the case, we would have hired in town.

I take a deep breath and offer a compromise. “How about I shortlist a few? The ones with actual work experience, stuff that requires real graft. Then we’ll interview them to get a proper feel for who they are. That way, we’re not going into it blindly, relying on words on a screen.”