JANIE
I try on several different outfits Friday night before finally deciding to keep it casual. I doubt Bittern has good clothes, and we’re just going down to the honky tonk joint. This needs to feel causal. I don’t want to come across as desperate or put unnecessary pressure on him.
When I wake Saturday morning, I look up bitterns on my phone, which leads to me flipping through pages of info on common birds of Montana. That leads to me putting down my phone, getting a coffee, and taking myself for a walk so I can clear my head and stop obsessing over him.
I am obsessing, a little bit.
My fingers interlace around my coffee as I move along the southern fence line. Down the hill, I can make out the dark shapes of cattle, followed by the swiftly moving dots I know to be wranglers. I wonder if one of them is Bittern, already up and working hard. Like the universe can read my mind, one of them stops and takes off his hat, and even from this far away, I can tell it’s him by the glint of sun on his blond head.
My stomach flutters, like I went over a dip in the road.
I’m screwed. The longer I think about it, the more it sinks in.
If I go out with him and we end up breaking it off, I’m going to be torn up. Hell, I’ll probably be back in the city, crying in my pillow, before the end of the day. But if it does work, and we can scale the barriers between us, then…well, I’ve got a lot to think about in my future.
My eyes sweep over the mountains. An ache returns to my chest.
Bittern aside, I already have a lot to think about. I’ve been ignoring the truth, but it’s looking me dead in the eyes now. The thought of leaving this ranch sits so cold in my chest, and I want to listen to what my heart is telling me, but there’s a dozen reasons why I can’t give into homesickness and drop everything, run home like a kid.
My eyes sting. I blink hard.
Time to find something to distract myself before I start bawling in the middle of the yard.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
BITTERN
I take the work truck, cleaning it out as best I can beforehand. She’s waiting by the barn at seven. Nobody taught me how to do the dating thing properly, but I had a quick conversation with Ed in the barn, and he filled me in on some basics. I pull up beside her, cut the engine, and circle the truck to open her door. She gives me this look that kind of makes my head spin. Soft, hesitant, but eager. Our hands brush as I go to help her in, and she tries to lift herself up at the same time. Our bodies bump.
“Sorry,” she says.
“No, sorry,” I say.
We look at each other. I put out my hand, and she lays hers in it. A warm tingle goes through me, and I gently lift her into the passenger seat. My heart is going pretty damn fast as I circle the truck, and it’s even faster when I slide into the driver’s side.
I pull down the driveway.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, giving me a soft smile.
At first, I think about answering stiffly, making small talk. Then, the world goes quiet for a short breath, and the gravity oftonight hits me. This is my shot with her, and I am not fucking throwing it away.
“Pretty good now that you’re here,” I say casually.
She blushes—I take that feather and tuck it into my cap—and the tension in the car eases.
“You been working today?” she asks, settling in and crossing one leg over the other.
“Yeah,” I say, distracted by the sight of bare thigh.
She’s in a short sundress with an embroidered bodice. The straps tie in little bows on her shoulders, tasseled ends hanging down her back. On her feet are brown leather cowboy boots. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything as pretty as her tonight. I just hope I can make it worth her while.
“Deacon’s got a bunch of cattle he’s moving from one side of the ranch to the other,” I say, breaking the short silence. “It’s been pretty easy, but it will take a while.”
“I’ve been there, done that.”
“Really?”
“Sort of,” she says, shrugging. “I grew up on Ryder Ranch, so I’ve seen a lot of seasons come and go. My dad put in his time running cattle, and I used to help him before I left.”
