Page 5

My phone buzzed one more time.

West: Dale wants to know if you wanna help with the east pasture fence tomorrow. Says if we get it done early we can head out to Miller’s Creek like we planned. I could bring a tent and we can camp out.

I stared at the message for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Miller’s Creek. Just us. The words that had been haunting me all afternoon.

I typed back.

Me: Yeah. I’m in.

The truth was, I wasn’t ready to let go just yet. One more weekend with Westley, that’s all it would be. Then I was gone.

Chapter 3

Westley

Everything was packed in the back of my truck less than a half hour after we’d finished work for the day. Rhett had gone back to the bunkhouse to shower and grab his things while I did the same at the house. I’d been hoping for a chance to get away for a while, even if it was just one night. Things had been getting a little tense at home over the past couple of weeks. My old man was not happy with me.

“Where’re you goin’ in such a rush?” he called out as I headed for the door with my bag.

I stopped dead in my tracks, not turning back to face him. “Just campin’ for the night with Rhett down at Miller’s Creek. Been wantin’ to go fishin’ for a while now.”

It was only partially the truth, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You should be out there lookin’ for a wife or comin’ with me to the meetin’,” he grumbled, turning back to his television that was playing reruns of the same sitcom he’d been watching for the past five years. “Don’t know why you waste your time on that boy. He’s a shit worker. Hardly worth the space he takes up in the bunkhouse.”

My skin prickled and my molars ground together as I bit back everything I wanted to say. I hated when Daddy talked about Rhett like that, about my best friend. It seemed like nothing Rhett did ever made him happy, and I just didn’t understand why. Everyone, even the ranch hands, were mean to Rhett. But he was the nicest guy I’d ever met. It just didn’t add up.

“Well, I better be off,” I said through gritted teeth, not giving him a chance to respond as I headed out the door.

The gravel crunched under my boots as I made my way to the truck, each step feeling heavier than the last. I threw my bag into the cab and slammed the door harder than I meant to, the sound echoing across the property. Through the windshield, I could see the sun hanging low over the western pasture, painting everything in shades of amber and gold.

I sat there for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel, trying to shake off the anger that had settled in my chest like a stone. Daddy had no right talking about Rhett that way. The man worked his ass off every single day, and for what? To be treated like he was worthless by everyone on the ranch?

The passenger door swung open, catching me off guard, and Rhett climbed in, his blonde hair still damp from the shower. He smelled like soap and pine, and he had that easy smile on his face that made most of my frustration start to melt away. He tossed a sleeping bag and a small cooler behind the bench seat.

“All set,” Rhett said, settling in beside me. He glanced over, his blue eyes catching the last of the daylight. “You alright? You look like you could punch a fence post.”

I started the engine and didn’t answer right away, just pulled out onto the dirt road that would take us away from the house and everything waiting there. The truck bounced over the ruts, and I kept my eyes fixed on the path ahead.

“Just my old man being my old man,” I finally said, downshifting as we approached the gate. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

Rhett didn’t push, which was one of the things I liked most about him. He just reached back and pulled the cooler forward, cracking it open to reveal the beer we’d stashed earlier.

“I’ll drink one for you,” he said, popping the tab. “And when we get there, you can catch up.”

“Thanks, Buttercup.”

I couldn’t help but crack a smile at that, shaking my head. Rhett had a way of lightening the mood that nobody else seemed to have. We drove in comfortable silence for a while, the radio playing some country station low enough that it didn’t interrupt the sound of the engine and the wind coming through the cracked windows.

The tension in my shoulders started to ease as the ranch fell further behind us. Out here, with nothing but open road and the darkening sky ahead, my father’s words didn’t seem to carry as much weight. The amber and gold had faded to deeper purples and blues, and the first stars were beginning to peek through.

“Your old man still goin’ on about you marrying Jennifer?” Rhett asked, taking a long pull from his beer.

I shifted gears as the road curved. “Yep.”

“I can’t believe she hasn’t asked you yet,” Rhett said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “She doesn’t seem the type to wait around for a proposal.”

“She ain’t waitin’ around anymore,” I replied, turning the truck onto the thin dirt road that would take us to the creek. “I dumped her.”