“Okay.” She took a deep breath as she took her foot off the brake.
We inched forward slowly, and she moved over to the gas pedal. But she gave it a little too much oomph, and we lurched forward. Just as quickly, we came to a screeching halt as she slammed down on the brakes.
My body slammed forward toward the dash, and I caught myself with my hand before my face smacked into it.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” Sierra let out a quiet cry, her hands immediately flying to cover her eyes.
I couldn’t hold back the laughter that bubbled out of my chest. In response—and honestly, rightfully so—the back of Sierra’s hand smacked into my chest.
“Don’t make fun of me!”
Her response only made me wheeze, my words failing to come out. Once I’d somewhat composed myself, I tried to reassure her. “I’m not, I promise.” I extended my pinky to her, but she just offered me a death glare, which triggered more laughing.
“It’s like a rite of passage, okay? We all do it. Next time, just don’t slam on the brakes because it makes it worse. Go again.”
She huffed. “Fine.”
That time was better, and we made it at least a few feet without Sierra panicking and jerking us back and forth with the brakes.
My eyes darted to her hands, currently white-knuckling the steering wheel. “You’re doing great. You can relax. It’s okay.”
“Don’t tell me to relax! That’s like the worst thing you could say to a girl!” she snapped, eyes blazing with determination and a bit of stubbornness, but she still eased her grip on the steering wheel a little. “Okay.” Pressing her foot back down on the gas, she inched forward slowly, much slower than she did before.
We crawled along the road at a snail’s pace, but I could feel her nerves melting away, replaced by a new air of confidence.
“We can go a little faster,” I whispered, careful not to seem like I was ordering her around, but we were going really slow. Maybe ten miles an hour, if that.
To my surprise, she didn’t protest, and before I knew it, we were cruising around the ranch.
“This is so much easier than I thought!” Sierra proudly proclaimed.
I bit my tongue, resisting the urge to tease her aboutslamming on the brakes and almost breaking my neck from whiplash.
“Take this turn, and we’ll go down to the end of the property and back,” I instructed as we approached a fork in the road.
“I didn’t realize your family had this much land.”
“Oh, yeah, this ranch is probably about two hundred acres. We have another patch of land, though, that’s much larger. Most of our cattle are out there, but we’ll move them back and forth every so often,” I explained.
“Do you think you’ll take over the ranch one day?”
I nodded confidently. “I think so. If I go to school at SGU, I probably won’t ever leave. Well, besides competing in rodeos.”
She nodded, but no words came out of her mouth.
Changing the subject to something lighter, I asked, “What’s your favorite color?” I was sure I already knew it, but it wasn’t something I’d asked her before.
“Purple,” she answered immediately. “What’s yours?”
I tapped my finger against my lips. “Well, it used to be yellow.”
Sierra turned her head toward me. “What is it now?” One brow lifted in confusion, her eyes widening in anticipation.
My gaze met hers then flicked toward my feet as heat flared in my cheeks. “Uh…green. It’s green.”
We’d been so engrossed in conversation that neither of us noticed the tree up ahead—or the fact that Sierra was veering off the road straight toward it—until it was too late.
“Oh, shit!” On instinct, and against my better judgment, I reached for the steering wheel.
