“I know, honey. It doesn’t mean I don’t worry. I think this is the first time you’re going alone?” His boot lashes out to kick against the rear tire, rocking the chassis. “Hmm. Let me put a little air in that one.”
“Sawyer said he couldn’t make it this time.” I don’t blame him. “And I’m not taking one of the ranch hands.”
His head shakes. “Nope, I get that. Lori has a cooler packed for you.” His shoulders straighten and he turns to me, then extends his arm.
I move in, letting him wrap me close. “I’ll be fine, Dad. I promise.”
His chest expands, then contracts in a long exhale. “It’s just with…everything. Don’t mind me if I’m extra cautious. I wish I could make you stay.”
His rueful chuckle afterwards tells me he knows there’s zero chance of that working.
“I have the pistol. Rachel will be staying with me. Besides, I know practically everyone there.” I give him a small squeeze before I pull away.
“I just need to grab my bag. Oh, and the food.” I secretly love being away from the ranch sometimes.
It gives me a chance to eat out.
Rodeo food is like fair food. Greasy and delicious as a treat.
I always love it until late summer. By then I’m sick of it.
After a teary hug from Lori, I kiss my little brothers goodbye while Dad carries out all of the prepared meals.
“Be careful.” His words are hoarse, punctuated by the heavy thump of the passenger door.
“I will, I promise.” I have a full tank of fuel and a new audio book to listen to.
I’m actually looking forward to the time alone.
RacingQueen: Finally! Leaving for my vacation! Wouldn’t it be wild if we crossed paths and didn’t even know it?
It’s a few minutes until the ding of Biggie’s reply blares through the speakers of the truck and the text pops up on the screen.
TheBigO: One in a million. I might even believe in your fated mates theory if that ever happened.
RacingQueen: Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. Would you do what you promised if it did?
TheBigO: What did I promise?
I really shouldn’t be typing when there’s snow hugging the edges of the pavement and I’m hauling my most precious cargo.
RacingQueen: That you’d break a table with me on it.
TheBigO: Just tell me when and where.
Hmm. I need to weigh that one.
Tossing my phone aside, I settle into my seat to watch the trees flicker by.
Will I get to the point?
As much as we chat, and as much as we’ve shared, I think it’s inevitable that we’ll at least meet.
But am I ready for that?
Maybe being hundreds of miles from home isn’t exactly the right place.
Yet I don’t want him knowing where I live if it doesn’t work out.
