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Story: JoyRide
Chapter One
Sunday, July 21st.
Harlan’s Eighteenth Birthday.
Wild Stallion Ranch. Montana.
The past two years had to be the best years of my life. It was like I started my life over when I was almost sixteen and that’s all I can remember—all Iwantto remember.
Everything that happened from birth to sixteen was ancient history—so ancient it felt like it happened to somebody else and not me.
In my first life there was nothing important. Shuffled from foster home to foster home, I never felt like any of those caregivers were my family. Some were nicer than others, but during that entire period of my life there was one thing that I couldn’t forget. And that was my brother, Virgil. Virge was exactly two years younger than me. Weird, but we were born on the same day. The twenty-first of July.
When our parents died and we had no other kin, we were put into the system. Virge and I were placed in a couple of foster homes together and for a while and I can remember being with him. I was about six and he was four—something like that.
One day stands out from all the others. It might have been in the fall when the leaves were turning colors, but I can’t say for sure.
I remember going to school on the bus and coming home and Virge was gone. My foster mom told me the case worker came and picked Virgil up and took him to live with his new family—a family who were adopting him.
Just him and not me.
They never let me see my brother again and when I was older I tried to find out what his last name would be if it wasn’t Linley anymore, but that was a dead end. I was just a kid, and nobody was willing to help me find out what I wanted to know.
That was a long time ago.
I sat on the end of my bed with my head in my hands trying not to think about it no more. Today was my eighteenth birthday and Tammy was making me pancakes. I had to suck it up and get downstairs and hug my foster sister.
I was close with Tammy, but not as close as I was with Travis—my adopted dad—he was tough and hard as nails—an ex-biker, former Marine, and the best thing that ever happened to me.
Now that I was eighteen, I could leave him and our ranch and live some place on my own, but that wouldn’t happen. This was my home. Travis made it my home—our home—and I’d never leave him.
I ran down the stairs from my room and the smell of coffee, pancakes and bacon coming from the kitchen was like the best birthday present I could ever have.
“Happy birthday, Harlan,” said Tammy. She ran towards me and gave me a present and kissed me on the cheek. She gave me her best kisses in the barn, and she’d get around to that later.
“Pancakes are ready. I hope you’re hungry. I made a big batch of batter.”
I sat down and smiled at my family. This was my real family—like my forever family. Not like the foster people who fed me because they were paid to.
“Happy birthday, Harlan,” said Billy and he handed me a carton of American Spirit.
“Thanks, Billy. I can use those.”
Billy lived with us. Ex-military, Billy was a sheriff too, but had a bad leg and couldn’t do as much as he used to. My dad’s best friend.
“Happy birthday, son,” said Travis. “I ain’t giving you your present until after breakfast because then you won’t eat nothing and the rest of us won’t get to eat either.” He chuckled. “And I happen to be hungry.”
I laughed. “Okay, then. Let’s have those pancakes, Tammy.”
Felt like one person was missing, but I was getting used to Savanna not being here with Travis no more. That hot little romance had lasted for about six months before she decided Travis and the life of a sheriff was too much for her and she went back to her own place in Coyote Creek. No hard feelings. Still friends. They had a pretty good run.
The first stack of Tammy’s pancakes went down easy soaked in butter and dripping with the Canadian Maple Syrup Travis liked to have on hand at all times.
“Delish, Tam. You are the fuckin Queen of Pancakes.”
She giggled. A few months older than me but not much. We were both eighteen now and eligible to be deputies in the Coyote Creek Sheriff’s Office. That’s what we’d been training for and waiting for. Her and me. Bringing down the bad guys together. Travis would be the boss, but me and Tam would do a lot on our own.
After the pancakes were all cleared up and we drank coffee and talked a bit about the work week ahead of us at the station, Travis slid a set of keys across the table to me.
Table of Contents
- Page 1 (Reading here)
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