Page 35 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

I glanced out the window, and a few bulls were grazing in the pasture. “You don’t think they can get too close to me, do you?”

I hated it out here. All day in Dallas, I kept thinking about wanting to move out there. The city had everything I missed: the buzz, the convenience, the sense of life happening all around me. Out here, it felt like the world had slowed to a crawl, and I was stuck in the middle of nowhere in winter.

I only had to make it until the end of the team season in September. Just half a year, and the contract would be fulfilled. Then I could pack up and leave this place behind for good. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t back out early because there was nowhere else for me to go.

Harleigh didn’t get it. This was her home, the place she’d grown up. She thrived out here, soaking in the familiarity of it all. She was quick to point out how the fresh air did wonders for her soul or how peaceful it was without the constant hum of city traffic.

“Come on, it won’t be that bad,” Harleigh said, pulling me out of my thoughts. She stood in the doorway, a knowing smile tugging at her lips as she watched me sulk. “You’ll thank me later. A little fun might actually make you hate this place less.”

“I doubt that,” I muttered, crossing my arms.

She came and sat on the bed next to me. “I know it’s hard. Do you want to come to dinner with Dad and me tomorrow? It’ll be good fuel before we start our job.”

I sighed. “It’s not that I miss Mike,” I began. “It’s that I miss the only family I had since my parents passed away. I miss what felt comfortable for me.”

“He left you, sweetie. When you needed him the most, he wasn’t there for you or⁠—”

I shook my head, not wanting to talk about it. “I know. It’s fucked up and twisted and logically makes no sense for me to long for it, but I miss the familiarity of it all.”

“I get that. I felt something similar when I was in Chicago. Missed life down here.” She reached over and squeezed my hand.

“Ugh. Enough sappy shit. Can you please help me pick an outfit out so I don’t look like I did at the rodeo?”

She laughed. “Yes, we want to blend in, not stick out, but also, stay true to yourself, Fabs.”

I had no idea who I was. I had become this other person for so long, someone my partner wanted me to be, and I wasn’t sure where that left me.

“Tell me about the people in the bar tonight. What will the crowd be like?”

She shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know. I moved away from Lindley when I went to college and then got the job in Chicago right after, so I haven’t gone to The Dive as a legal adult.”

She grabbed a pair of flared black-and-white checkered pants and threw them at me. “Take these,” she said, and I held them up.

This was another example of something I’d wear before Mike, or rather, before he became controlling over my outfits and my personality.

“We won’t see anyone from the event, will we?”

She shook her head. “Doubt it. The only two guys that live in town are Dalton and, well . . .”

“Do not say his name.”

“He doesn’t live here anymore. Last I heard, he lives near Dallas, and I doubt we’d ever run into him unless we went to an event.”

“Which we won’t, because our work and the auctions are based here . . . right?”

I didn’t want to see him again. Didn’t need to. I got him out of my system . . .

I think.

No, I did.

I fucked someone new, got a fresh start, and left. This was about the job and focusing on marketing the ranch and the bulls with Harleigh’s expertise. I wasn’t looking back.

“Wear this with it.” Harleigh threw a baggy plain white T-shirt at me.

This was simple enough. It felt like me with the pants, the old me, with a little of this new me mixed in—whoever she was.

“I’m going to wash my hands, then do my makeup, and we can go. Would you mind grabbing me a bra?”