Page 49 of Wildflowers & Whiskey

I lift my heavy head and meet Mrs. Mae’s kind smile. I force a weak smile, hoping it passes for gratitude, before swallowing the tablets, then picking up the toast.

Just as there's hope of feeling better, he walks in.

Without a second thought, I push my chair away from the table. The screech of it scraping against the floor adds to my irritation. I announce, to no one in particular, that I'm going to call Iris.

Smooth, Maeve. Not obvious at all. Well, maybe not to everyone else, but Wade would definitely catch on.

I shouldn’t care.

But I do. So now, I’m going to call Iris. I need to talk this out with someone who’ll tell me straight if I’m being an overdramatic cow. And that person is always Iris Stone.

I barely make it back to my room before I’m hitting the call button. Her face lights up on my phone screen in seconds. “Girl, you look rough as fuck.”

“Hello to you too,” I groan, flopping onto my bed.

“Yeah, yeah. Hello. What do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

Before I deep dive into the main shit show that has contributed to my mood, I revise how I came to look “rough as fuck” and telling her how I got shit-faced drunk last night. Mentioning that I invited Colt’s ex-girlfriend to hang out with us, without his permission, which I will need to apologise for, and how the rest of the night was an absolute blur until I fell asleep on Colt’s shoulder.

Iris raises her eyebrows, suggesting that it meant something. I correct her instantly, “No, not like that. I was just so drunk. But now I’m worried he might read into it.”

“Babe, you were drunk. I’m sure he knows that.”

“I know, but still.” I rub my eyes, the brightness of the phone hurting my head. “Anyway, that’s just one of the problems causing me to spiral.”

“The other one being?” Iris props me up on something, she is positioning herself cross-legged on her bed, hands free, readying herself for a longer story.

“Wade.”

“Ooh yeah, cowboy daddy! Tell me more.”

She has me rolling my eyes, but I tell her everything. From how I thought there was something like a friendship forming during our mornings together. The little gestures. The trust he has in me with ranch tasks. But then, how he does a 180 whenever I ask more about him, despite me opening up. I resent the way he spoke to me, like I was some child who didn’t know when to stop.

“Ok, yeah, girl. Maybe you were meddling a bit, but he had no right to shout at you like that.” I nod in agreement, because I admit I probably shouldn’t be meddling in Wade and Colt’s relationship, but they are lucky to have each other in their lives. It breaks me seeing how they could patch up whatever happened when Colt was a young boy and focus on the now.

Iris continues, “I find it weird how shitty he gets, though. First the room thing, and now this. It’s a bit over the top even for someone as grouchy as him. Clearly, there is something he doesn’t want Colt, or anyone else, to know. Only explanation.”

My mind has been screaming the same since I arrived.

“Maeve, you need to snoop.”

“What? No—”

“Yes. You done it before, just because now you are looking for something, don't start acting innocent on me.” Iris now picks up her phone again, her face larger on my screen so I have a close-up view of her scary death stare.

“Fine, later. I will see what I can find in that room again. Hopefully won’t get caught this time.”

“Excellent! Keep me updated babe, The Cowboy Chronicles is taking a different turn, but I am here for it.” She laughs, and I can’t help but join her. She instantly makes me feel better. I tell her as much, say goodbye, and repeat how much I miss her. Then, I wait for the house to be quiet, ready for me to go snooping.

*

The house is like a ghost town by 10 p.m., all quiet and dark. Only the slight whistle of the breeze can be heard, with the occasional echoes of animals outside. It’s actually quite eerie when you think about it, but my brain hasn't allowed me to think about anything except Wade, and whatever it is he's keeping so close to him that he's even pushing his own son out of the picture. Different things spiral through my head—affair, secret life, drug addiction.

Colt’s the reason I should care about this so much. He’s the one being pushed aside by his own dad, the one who deserves answers about his own family. Because out of all the theories my brain has conjured, that’s what I think this is about, the argument his parents had all those years ago. The one Colt remembers but doesn’t know the full context of why his mum left. Whatever it is, Colt needs to know. But also, if I am being completely honest with myself, I want to understand Wade better. The man who, within seconds of seeing him, had my whole body responding—neurons firing, heat pooling between my thighs, and my mind racing. Men don't usually affect me like this. I'm stone when it comes to blokes. But him? He's cracked right through.

I need to know what he’s hiding. Maybe finding out his dirty secret will squash this little crush, and I can focus on the real reason I came here.

Before I can even talk myself out of it, I'm up and out of bed, pulling my baggy hoodie over my head and slipping on my fluffy slippers. I creep down the stairs slowly, making sure I'm actually alone in the house. Learning from my previous mistakes.