“No, Drama Queen.”
Swinging off before she can tumble, I force myself to keep from searching for anyone I don’t want to talk to right now. Or more like one specific somebody. Mom waits for my feet to make contact with the ground before following suit. She’s off-balanceand uncoordinated as she flails slightly, an arm snapping out. I stabilize her as best I can and huff when she leans against the horse and settles.
Once she realizes what she’s doing, she jolts away from the mare and smooths down her shirt. It’s loose on her, fitting the way she’s always preferred her clothes. I took after her for a while and always bought a size up until I turned sixteen and convinced myself it was the baggy clothes that were keeping boys away from me.
Shocker, it had nothing to do with the clothes and all to do with my brother and his best friend.
“Come on, then. Let’s see who we can find,” I tell her, taking the mare’s reins and leading her to the stables.
Mom’s face brightens, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. I look away from her, unable to see her emotional like this over something so minuscule. She hurries beside me, following as I tie the horse up and peek into the stable.
“Hey! What are your names?” I shout down the aisle.
The two boys spin around to face me, their jaws dropping before slamming shut. The one in front reaches behind him and punches the stomach of the other one when he bumps into him.
“I’m Brock!” the violent one says. “Logan’s behind me.”
I take Mom’s arm and pull her ahead of me. “Great. This is my mom, Shelly.”
“It’s nice to meet you boys,” she says, her frustration with me blatant. “This is my daughter, Tilly. She’s the new groomer.”
“Oh, cool. So, you’ll, like, be here all the time, then?” Brock asks, a hand slipping into the back pocket of his jeans.
I inhale slowly. “Yep. You’ll probably see me in the groom stall often.”
“I hope you don’t have to take care of Diesel,” Logan mutters, eyeing the empty stall on his left.
Brock digs an elbow into the kid’s ribs. “Don’t say that stuff to her. Rowe could be listening.”
It’s almost enough to make me laugh. Their nerves when it comes to him are adorable, really. There was a time when I felt them too. When I thought he was above life—a man meant for so much more than what this place could offer him. Then I grew up and realized he was human like the rest of us.
“I’m not going to tell him. But Diesel isn’t a bad horse. If you’re scared of him, he must not like you,” I say.
Brock frowns and turns to his friend. “Whatever. Come on, Logan.”
“It was nice to meet you, boys. Keep up the good work!” Mom rushes out.
I roll my eyes and nudge her to follow me out of the stable. “Are you happy now? You met two people.”
“That is not what I meant, and you know it. I want to meet the real cowboys. They’ll be who you talk to every day, won’t they?”
We leave my borrowed horse where I’ve tied her up. Rowe can worry about unsaddling her and putting her away. Besides, Mom’s already marching forward, leaving me no time to do it myself, even if I felt like it.
She takes a look around us, searching. I know that the moment she chooses to hit the ranch house, we’re cooked. She’s going to force me into conversation with Rowe’s mother, and I can’t think of anything worse than that. That’s the only reason that I snag her attention when I see a cowboy riding over past the ridge.
He’s older than the others I’ve seen while I’ve been here.Shit. I recognize him the moment he brings his eyes to me. They’re too familiar to forget. Somehow, he looks like he’s only aged a couple of years since we last saw each other. Sitting atop the same greystud, he waves a gloved hand at us and sets his sights on where we’re standing.
“Tilly? Shit, it’s been too damn long, honey,” Otis drawls, grinning.
In a blink, he’s swinging off his horse and leaving it behind him. The oldest wrangler on the ranch barrels toward me and hauls me into his arms. I choke on a laugh and hug him back, inhaling the scent of tobacco and sweat. It’s oddly comforting.
“Look at you. I feel a million years old now. You’re so damn grown.” He pats my back the same way he’d do to any other man here. I take solace in the slight pain from the hit, knowing not everything has changed while I’ve been gone. “I almost didn’t believe ’em when they told me you were working here, but shit. Here you are.”
We separate, and I nod, glancing at my mom. She’s smiling softly, watching.
“Here I am. And here you are. No moving on for you after all these years?”
“To do what? Ain’t nobody else around here want to take on an old man. I’ve got too much say around here now to leave, anyway. No chance I’m starting over this late.”
