Caramel | Rip Wheeler

Caramel - Chapter Seventeen

The next couple of weeks were full of silence, loneliness and emptiness. She walked the halls of her depressing childhood home, the only noise being from her heels clacking against the fancy tile that was imported from Mexico. It was weird, to be back after so many years. It seemed as if she had never lived there, all the memories had faded and it genuinely wasn't her home anymore. She found herself sitting on a hill, a half empty bottle of some fancy tequila next to her. She didn't bother to read the bottle, she didn't care.

She watched the sunset fill the sky with purples and pinks. She often wondered if Rip was watching the same sunset. She wrapped her arms around her knees, setting her head on her arms as she began to cry. Everything she wanted wasn't what she wanted, she realized that. She didn't know any of the cowboys that worked for her uncle, she was just somebody who signed their checks. They did their jobs and respected each others space, it was boring.

She checked her phone everyday, hoping Rip would reach out, or return her calls and texts. Usually the only people worried about her were Monica and John. So, at that point she locked her phone inside of a drawer in the office her dad once used and hadn't picked it up in days.

She sniffed, lifting the clear bottle to her lips. The stars began to fill the navy blue sky as it became a deeper shade of blue. It reminded her of the ocean, she was never a fan of it, but recently she compared most of her life to it, unsure of what was to become of her.

Hours and hours away, Rip sat at his empty dining table. A beer in front of him, his eyes focused on the hanging jean jacket on his coat rack. He took the bottle to his lips, the sour taste of the warm beer caused his face to contort. He missed her, so so much.

He would hold her clothes as he slept at night, desperate for the warm vanilla smell of her skin. But he couldn't bare to move that jacket, it was the last thing she touched. She would be happy in her home, is what he thought. She would find somebody to share her life and the inheritance with. What he didn't know was that wasn't the case, she was on the verge of returning, she just couldn't bring herself to sell the ranch.

A knock caused him to look up, John stood behind the screen door, his hand on the knob. "I don't come up here often." He said, looking around the home. "Can I have a word with you, son?"

Rip stood quickly to his feet. "Yes sir." He began to nod, walking toward the door to unlock it.

"Relax." John chuckled. "This is a family matter, I promise."

Rip's tense shoulders relaxed. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." He stepped in, then pointed to the sofa. "May I?"

Rip nodded his head, sitting across from him on a leather recliner. "How can I help you, sir?"

"You know your way around Texas?"

Rip's eyebrows rose. "Pardon?"

John sighed. "Go get her, son." He began to shake his head. "If not for you then do it for me."

"Sir, she made her choice." Rip looked down at his feet. "I can't force her."

"You love her?" John leaned forward, signifying he was serious.

He nodded. "I love her, sir."

"Go get her." John began to stand up.

Rip followed after him. "What do I say to her?"

"Whatever you think will make her come home." John offered him a small grin. "Take one of the trucks." He set the keys on the small glass table by the front door. "Don't come back without her."

Rip spent the night debating whether or not he should go and how he could convince her to come back. Their relationship wasn't enough for her to stay, which caused his heart to hurt as he thought about it, but he pushed it to the side trying to focus on creating a plan. Just then, he looked at the nightstand drawer. He pursed his lips, reaching for the handle. Inside the drawer was a small black box. It held something priceless to him, something more important than anything else he had in his life. His mothers wedding ring.

Before he knew it he was on the road, headed directly for El Paso, Texas. He drove cautiously, being that he didn't own a drivers license or even a birth certificate. Outside of Montana, nobody cared who he worked for, he had no power. He wasn't used to that and he didn't want to get used to it.

After twenty six hours on the road, stopping to sleep only once and to put gas a handful of times, he stood before large white gates. Above the gates was a sign that read 'Sol Y Luna'. He knew he was in the right place, now getting in was going to be the tricky part.

"Le puedo ayudar en algo?"

"Maybe not so tricky." He thought.

He looked over to the voice that was speaking to him, a man with a straw hat stood with his hands on his hips on the other side of the gate. He was sweaty, his grey shirt almost black from being drenched. "Um.." He began. "I'm from Yellowstone." He tried his best to explain, his spanish was horrible and he didn't want to embarrass himself. "John Dutton sent me." 

The man on the other side of the gate looked at him, then at the truck that was behind him. He recognized the logo, nodding his head a bit. "Yellowstone." He continued to nod, speaking in a heavy accent. "You are looking for Ms. Luna?"

"Yes." Rip nodded. "Is she here?"

"With cows on the field." He pulled a set of keys from his pocket, pushing the gates open. "Motor is broken." He nodded to Rip, gesturing for him to take a step back so he could swing the gate further open for his truck. "You will need a horse."

"You have one I can take out there?"

The man nodded, watching as Rip got into the truck. He put it in drive, driving pass the gates and toward the large house, outside of it were parked three Cheyenne pickup trucks. The sides of them had a perfect sun and moon painted on them.

A few feet away was a large barn, it was nice, he had to give them that. He noticed a group of cowboys sitting on horses that resembled hers. They were huge and hairy.

As he exited the truck, the man walked up to him. "Leo." He held out his hand. "Foreman."

Rip took his hand in a grip, shaking it. "Rip." He nodded. "Also a foreman."

Leo chuckled softly, gesturing his hand so he'd follow him. They walked toward the corral, Leo said a few words to another man in spanish, shortly after the man jumped off of the large clydesdale. "You good to ride alone?" Leo made out, fixing his straw hat.

"Yeah." He nodded. "Just point me in the direction."