“I left after I saw you get the buckle. You bringing it home to me, Cowboy?”
“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me. I’ve got three more rodeos before I can give it to you. And fuck, do I want to give it to you.” I hear the meaning in his words and blush.
Just before I start speaking, I hear him saying something to someone, muffled in the background.
“Hey, baby. I gotta run. But I’ll call you in themorning.”
“Okay, have a good night, Cowboy.”
“You too, Hurricane.”
Right before the line goes dead, I hear the unmistakable laughter of a woman in the background and my stomach drops.
Calm down, Callie. You have no room to be jealous. You have a full on rom-com love triangle going on. It’s impossible to not feel insecure though. I don’t have quite enough confidence to overcome whatever that giggling laugh was. Cash is a hot-as-shit cowboy who just won.
Chapter 17
Don’t Stop Me Now
Callie
The rest of the week passes in a blur. I don’t go back to Waylon’s to see Cash’s riding on Thursday or Friday. I have work on Saturday morning, my first day. As promised, Cash called Thursday morning, letting me know they were traveling to Denver that day.
I don’t work up the nerve to ask him about the giggles. I decide I don’t have a right to, but I spend the week worrying about where his belt buckle is and if he’s thinking about me the way I’m thinking about him. Lizzie shows me where I can watch the rodeo on my phone, and I see him come in second in a bout in Denver and first in Calgary. He wins in both cities in calf roping.
He’s coming home with more accomplishments to his name. And I am bursting with pride.
Saturday, I get dressed in my black polo shirt withPete’s Farm Supplyacross the back and affix my nametag on mybreast. Pulling on my new khaki pants, I spin in the mirror. It will have to do.
Spending the day surrounded by the local men coming and going, buying their farm supplies, I feel the comfort of a small town wrapped around me like a blanket. It’s not boring or monotonous, it’s homey and comforting. I visit with the baby chicks who run from one side of the brooder to the other when I come near, making me laugh, and I work out lifting food and hay, moving it around to stocking or orders. I begin to understand why the men in this town look so nice in their tight jeans and fitted tees—just moving farm supplies is hard work.
A sense of accomplishment hums deep in my bones after work—I’m finally working toward building my own future.
I decide to give Waylon’s one last chance tonight, to see Cash on the TV instead of my tiny phone one more time before he comes home tomorrow.
Walking into Waylon’s at just before eight o’clock, on a Saturday night, I’m astounded at the bustle and noise from the packed building. Duke moves expertly behind the bar as usual, but this time accompanied by a woman who must be Sadie. They work in perfect tandem like a well-oiled machine—with the kind of comfortable confidence that comes from working side-by-side for a long time. There’s trust and history there.
He notices me sit at the bar and sends Sadie my way.
“Hey, Caroline, right? Kayla told me about you!” She smiles enthusiastically at me.
“Hey, yeah that’s me. Can I get a beer?”
“Sure thing, hun.” She hustles off to get the beer just as Duke turns up the television, the whole bar quieting in response. He really is their hometown rodeo hero. A quick scan tells me there are an uncharacteristic number of women here tonight, though I don’t know if it’s because it’s Saturday or if Cash drew them in.
While I wait for Cash’s turn, I catch more than a few flirty glances and words directed toward Duke, but he seems wholly uninterested. It seems the attention he gave me was a rare gift and I mentally kick myself again for ruining it.
He comes over to check on me, the first time we’ve spoken since Tuesday. No more cheeky texts or flirty chats over a drink.
“You good?”
“No, I’m not good.” I shoot him a sour look and he narrows his eyes in response.
“Something wrong with the beer?” he asks me, like he doesn’t know who I am or about the rift that’s torn between us.
“No, Duke, something is wrong with us.” He almost rolls his eyes, but I see him stop the movement.
“What’s done is done, Caroline. I can’t. I won’t go through this again.” He turns and walks through the door into the stockroom. I get up and follow him.
