Chapter 7 Cleo #2
“Whoa, sorry!” Grady said, laughing slightly. “I didn’t scare ya, right?” He gestured behind me. “Sorry, I saw you duck into the office and didn’t know if you knew where your dad was? I’m here with Riley Farrier, but the old men are too busy bullshitting to get the ball rolling.”
I blinked up at him in surprise, suddenly unable to use my voice. He was talking to me like we were old friends when I couldn’t even remember if we’d said anything other than hi to each other our entire lives.
“You good?” he asked, raising a brow.
“Uh, y—yeah,” I stammered. There was a long silence before I continued. “Sorry, I’m being rude. I’m Cleo, Doug’s daughter.”
Grady stared down at my outstretched hand. He only paused for a beat before taking it and smirking. “Oh, I know who you are.”
“You do?”
“Well, we’ve been in the same class since kindergarten, so it’d be pretty rude not to, right?”
His eyes darted down to where I was still clinging to his hand. I could feel the sweat along our palms, so I quickly let go and tucked a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “Right,” I agreed. “Totally rude.”
“Bet you don’t know my name, though.”
The laugh that came out of me was way too loud and not ladylike in any way, shape, or form, but I couldn’t help myself.
Was he serious? He was one of the most popular guys at school, and it had nothing to do with the balance in his family’s bank account or the sports he played.
He was just one of those people you were drawn to.
“Something funny?” he asked, leaning his shoulder on the wall beside me.
“Well, yeah. Everyone knows who you are,” I said, clutching the clipboard tighter.
He lifted one shoulder. “I don’t really care about what everyone thinks.” Before I could respond, he changed the subject. “What’s that you’re clinging onto for dear life?”
“Oh,” I said, pulling the board free and handing it over.
“My dad’s on his way. He thought y’all would be late and had a bit more time, but he wanted me to give you the list of horses y’all will be working on and what they need.
” Grady flipped through the papers as I spoke.
“Their full history is on there—age, breed, vaccination records, last shoe fitting, and what needs to be done today.”
He nodded. “Damn, this is great. Really helpful stuff.”
I fought the urge to blush under his praise.
If it’d been up to Dad, he would’ve just guessed at half the stuff on those pages instead of taking the time to look everything up.
It wasn’t because he was lazy; he was just swamped.
That’s where I came in. I’d spent hours on the list, color-coding and alphabetizing everyone so nothing was missed.
I even drew a little map of the barn and put the names of the horses they’d find in each stall.
“Thanks,” I said, looking down at my feet.
“You did this?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it wasn’t too hard. Just had to go through some files and stuff. Organization and lists are kinda my thing.”
He chuckled. It was so soft I nearly missed it. “I see nothing’s changed since elementary school.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.
Grady glanced over the edge of the clipboard. “Yeah, I think it was second grade? Mrs. Evans’ class. You went toe-to-toe with her when she insisted her roll sheet was alphabetical and it wasn’t.”
“Oh god,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “I remember that. She called my parents and everything. Told them I was being disrespectful and disruptive in class. It was so embarrassing.”
Mom and Dad knew it wasn’t true. They said I didn’t have a disrespectful bone in my body, and if I was acting that way, then there was a reason.
It wasn’t until the principal asked to see the sheet and told her I was, in fact, correct that she relented even a little.
I couldn’t be sure, but I was almost positive she graded all my homework harder than the other students in retaliation.
To this day, it was the only class I’d ever gotten a B in.
“I didn’t think so,” Grady said earnestly. “I thought it was so cool you stood your ground. Most kids don’t care enough.”
I peeked between my fingers, gauging his reaction. There was no humor in his voice, but something else. Something I didn’t really want to think about, because there was no way Grady Wilde was in awe of me.
“Well, she was wrong,” I mumbled. The strand of hair I’d tucked behind my ear earlier came loose, and I moved to put it back. Grady tracked the movement, his eyes lingering on the spot my fingers last touched.
“There she is! You got that list, sugar?” I jumped back as my dad and Bishop came into view with the vet and farrier in tow, their faces sticky with sweat from the Texas heat. They stopped beside us, looking between Grady and me with curiosity. “Who’s this?”
“Grady Wilde, sir. Pleased to meet you. Mr. Riley has told me a lot about Black Springs, and I gotta say… Y’all really do have one of the nicest places around.” Grady stuck out his hand, the same one I’d gripped moments ago, for my dad to shake.
“Ah, is your momma Marsha?” Grady nodded, smiling. “Thought so. Ya look just like her. She could bake a mean cherry cobbler.” He leaned toward me, dropping his voice to a stage whisper. “Don’t tell your momma though. She’d kill me.”
“Secrets’ safe with me,” I said, holding up my hands.
“And me,” Grady added. “But thank you, sir. Honestly, there isn’t anything my mom can’t make. She makes staying in shape hard.”
“Eh.” Dad shrugged. “That’s what we have ranch work for.”
“Ya ain’t wrong ‘bout that,” Mr. Harris, the vet, said, tapping his stomach. “Ever since I started slowin’ down ‘round the practice, I’ve been noticin’ my pants fittin’ a bit tighter. Told Missy she better be careful cookin’ like that, or else she’s gonna have to buy me a new wardrobe.”
“Or maybe your ass just needs to move around more,” Dad said, jabbing his elbow into the man’s side. “Probably do you some good.”
“I’m seventy-three for Christ’s sake. Don’t a man deserve some rest?”
Dad shook his head. “Naw. Speak for yourself, old man. I can rest when I’m dead.”
“Probably after, too, you crazy bastard,” Mr. Harris muttered. “Let’s get this shit goin’. I’m already sick of this damn heat.”
“You got the list, sugar?” Dad repeated, turning to me.
Grady stepped up. “I’ve got it right here, sir. Cleo was kind enough to bring it over.”
He handed it over to Mr. Riley and Mr. Harris, who studied it closely. They flipped through the pages just like Grady had, their brows raising slightly in surprise. “Damn, this is good,” the farrier murmured, side-eyeing my dad. “But I know your ass didn’t do it.”
Dad wrapped his arm around me, pulling me tight. “Naw. That’s all my girl right here. I’d lose my head if it weren’t for her.”
I couldn’t help but blush, but it wasn’t from Dad’s praise.
I was used to that. No, this was because of the way Grady kept looking at me.
Maybe I was reading too much into it, maybe it was my childhood crush coming back full force, or maybe I’d watched too many rom-coms lately, but I swore there was something more to it.
Two people who didn’t know one another didn’t stare the way he was, especially not how his gaze dropped to my mouth every time I spoke.
Dad gave me one last squeeze before letting me go. “You finished up in here?”
I shook my head. “No, I’ve gotta finish the stalls. I started at the front and have been working my way back, so y’all are good to grab the first batch.”
“You need some help? Bishop can stay behind.”
I looked at the guy standing beside my dad.
He’d been with us for a few years now and had given everything he had to the ranch.
Dad always said he didn’t play favorites, but I knew Bishop was at the top of the list without question.
He’d come to our Friday family dinners since Dad hired him, which was a huge honor. Those were for family only.
I shook my head. “No, I’ve got it. Y’all go ahead.”
“Alright, sugar. Whatever you say.” Dad kissed my temple before ushering the others outside.
Before heading out, Bishop bumped into my shoulder. “You couldn’t have lied to get me outta this damn heat?”
“You’re the one who wanted to be a cowboy,” I said, laughing and making sure Dad was out of earshot. “So, go do cowboy shit.”
I didn’t cuss much, especially not out loud, but Bishop was a horrible influence on me.
Bishop’s shoulders slumped before mumbling goodbye and heading out the way Dad went. It was only then I realized Grady was still standing near the entrance of the barn. I lifted my hand, instantly feeling stupid as I waved.
Get it together, Cleo.
I turned around before the embarrassment could take me and quickly pulled my iPod out of my pocket, slipping my earbuds in and putting up my hair.
There were still stalls to finish, a tack room to organize, and feed levels to check.
The moment the music started, I let the beat carry me through the rest of my chores.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I paused my iPod, trying not to get tangled in the cord as I pulled the ear buds free.
Grady was standing in front of me, shifting on his feet.
He’d taken his hat off, holding it with both hands in front of his body.
“Hey, we’re finishing up,” he said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder where the adults were talking.
“Really? That was fast,” I said, pulling out my phone to check the time. It hadn’t taken me long to finish the stalls, but then I’d started reorganizing the tack room. I swore no one knew how to put things up where they were supposed to be.
“Yeah, Mr. Riley said it was record time. Helps that there weren’t too many to get through. And that you were so organized.”
I shrugged. “It’s the least I could do.” Grady nodded, and we lingered in an awkward silence for a beat longer. “I guess I’ll see you in the fall at school, then?”
Grady chuckled nervously. “Well, to be honest, I was kinda hoping for sooner.”
“Really?” I blurted, and Grady laughed.
Christ, Cleo, pull yourself together. If I could tell how desperate I sounded, I knew he could.
His fingers danced nervously across the bill of his hat. “I’m kinda starving after working all day.” He gestured around the barn. “So, I wanted to see if you were hungry, too.”
I blinked in surprise, wanting to look behind me to see if I was suddenly standing in the middle of his conversation with someone else. “You wanted to know if I’m hungry…” I echoed slowly, and he nodded. “Right now?”
He huffed, running his hand through his sweaty blond hair. “Yeah, I mean… If you don’t already have plans or anything. I know it’s last-minute and all, but I asked your dad—”
“You asked my dad?” I squeaked.
“Of course. Would’ve been rude to ask his daughter on a date without asking his permission,” Grady said, smiling.
Date. Grady Wilde was asking me on a date. Maybe I needed to pinch myself again because there was no way this was happening.
“Unless you don’t want to?” he added nervously. “I’m sorry, I just assumed we were giving the same vibes—”
“I’d love to,” I said in a rush before he took it back. “It’s just that, um, I’ve never really been on one before.”
“You’ve never been on a date before?” Grady asked. “Really?”
I shook my head, looking down at my hands. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Now I felt dumb. He probably was looking for a girl who had more experience, one who wasn’t going to be so awkward. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go now. It’s totally cool.”
Grady reached out, taking my hand lightly. I looked up, meeting his gaze. “I dunno what’s wrong with the guys around here, but I’d be honored to take you on your first date.”
I laughed, but there was little humor to be found. “You don’t have to do that, you know. You don’t have to follow through because you feel obligated.”
“What’s your favorite flower?”
“What?”
He squeezed my hand. “Your favorite flower. What is it?”
I chewed on the bottom of my lip. “Um, I don’t know. I like daisies, I guess.”
“And your favorite color?”
“Blue,” I said without hesitation. “I love blue.”
“Mine too,” he said, smiling. “Okay, so how about this… I’m going to head out with Mr. Riley so I can go home and shower, then I’ll come back and get you in like an hour and a half? Does that work?”
“Sure,” I said, ducking to hide my blush. “That’d be great.”
His smile was blinding, nearly knocking the wind from my lungs as the farrier called his name. He walked backward, pointing at me. “I’ll see you soon.”