“And then January will stew about why he’s so uptight about it. She so deserves it.” She unfolds her legs. “Okay, Jiminy, what do you do for fun on Saturdays?”
“Work.” But I’ve never had a whole day to kill with her.
“You haven’t always worked. What’d you do before, when you had time off from the ranch?”
“Fish.” I haven’t been out since the ice and snow melted. “There’s a spot not far from the distillery. It’s land we made sure to keep out of the deal so we could preserve our secret spot.”
“What if I’m horrible at fishing?”
“You don’t have to catch anything to fish.” I’d rather have her with me.
“Is your spot top secret?” she asks in a husky voice.
“Not if you keep talking to me like that. I’ll show you where it is and all the things we can do there with the privacy.”
“Sounds like we have another deal.”
Campbell
We went fishing both Saturday and Sunday. Now it’s Monday morning, and we’re out fishing again. I have an afternoon date with my mom and Kacey. Jamison and Iverson returned home yesterday with Tavis, so my parents are keeping Kacey until closer to the wedding to give my sister and Iverson a chance to rest.
I wade out of the water. No wonder the brothers wanted to keep as much of the land around this stretch of the river theirs. The water swings wide around a curve and bubbles over rocks, making it the perfect fishing spot. There’s enough shore to pack some chairs and a blanket and have a picnic. Or maybe a few orgasms before casting a line, as we did on Saturday under the clear blue sky.
Durban exits the river next to me and we pack up our poles and waders. We didn’t have much luck today, but neither of us was trying to catch anything. I like it out here, and I like that he wants to be here with me.
Things feel a lot more serious after the weekend, but tonight will take care of that. I’ll arrive separately to thedistillery and pretend to be nothing more than an occasional event planner for the company and Iverson’s sister-in-law.
And after tonight, I’m going deeper into the wedding activities.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks as he gathers our supplies in his arms.
“I’m caught between hoping that Stanford and January smoothed some things over while they were in Banff or that they decided to cut their losses and cancel everything.”
We start hiking toward the pickup. He took an off-road route that didn’t include parking in the lot of the distillery to get here. I wish we could just strut onto Foster House grounds and wave to everyone we know.
There I go again. Unrealistic expectations.
“You’re less worried about your reputation?” He lets me go ahead as the path narrows until we reach the clearing the guys made when the renovations were being done. They didn’t want customers to see them leaving the trees with fishing gear.
“More like I’m tired of being scared of what other people think.” I’m tired of bearing the responsibility. Why is it up to me whether or not my uncle signs over his share of the land? Daddy and Rayburn should just duke it out. I flash Durban a grin over my shoulder to keep that resentment from showing on my face. “Though you seem to have accepted me just fine.”
He continues looking right through me. “You’re surrounded by support.”
In a way. It’s one thing to have people around who can doctor me if I fall off a horse. It’s another to be puton one I’ve never ridden before and told to win the barrel race.
If I was bolder, I’d march into the guest lodge and announce that I quit. I know I have the right to, but I can’t. I have to finish one job. I have to show my family I can do it. And maybe I want to prove to Durban that I really am the girl who has her shit together—maybe not two PhDs together, but I can at least finish a job.
After he brings me to his house and I get my stuff and my car, I go to my parents’ place. Mom and Kacey are in the kitchen, making the goodies we’re having with our afternoon lemonade.
Mom grins. “Back from Billings already?”
“With your friiiieeeend?” Kacey says in a singsong voice.
That’s my sister coming out of that little mouth. “Yes. I’m back. Let me get a load of laundry started and I’ll be right out.”
I’m unpacking when my phone goes wild.
Stanford: Where are you?
