Chapter Thirty-Two #2
“We’ll find him. How you holding up?” He pulls the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead and wipes the moisture away on his jeans.
“Not well.” Doom creeps across my every thought. “I’m so mad at Emery for telling my dad about the debt.”
He curls his fingers up to his chest and presses his knuckles with the other. A couple of them pop as he presses his lips in a flat line. “You may not want to hear this, and I’m not one to talk since I’m an only child, but I think you and Emery have a lot more common ground than you think.”
My eyes nearly bug out with surprise. “How so?”
He counts on his fingers as he explains, “You both grew up in a world of uncertainty. You walk on eggshells with your dad, and you don’t know how your mom’s illness can shift.
I think your sister chose to live with your dad because there was stability in what he was able to provide.
And you’re both fiercely protective of the people you love.
” I’m about to rebut when he splays his hands out in defence.
“Hear me out. You were protective of her when your dad ruined her birthday plans, and she wanted to protect you from losing the ranch. It was a risk to tell your dad, but I agree with him that she did it because she worries about you. She must have thought he would help you pay the taxes.”
One side of his mouth turns into his cheek as he waits for my reaction.
My chin falls to my chest. “I think you’re right.”
He places a warm palm below my jaw and lifts my face. He considers me as his forehead meets mine. His fingers push into my hair under the nape of my neck and softly he says, “That’s just how I see it.”
We walk and walk until my feet blister from sweat rubbing against my heels. Blue’s tracks turn up into more scrub oak. Cash leads the way and turns to grab my hand.
“Follow me through,” he says.
I watch his feet as he guides me through the maze of limbs. When we come out of the other side of the brush, something cool tingles on my face. I squint up at the sky and see dark clouds.
I tug at Cash’s sleeve. “Look.” We point our faces up and let the cool drops refresh us for a moment. Quickly, a growing grey blanket of rain closes in.
“Come on!” Cash starts up the hill. “We’ve got to get a higher vantage point. The rain’s going to wash away his tracks.”
Startled at this realization, I run, catching up and then passing him. I need to know where Blue is. I can’t lose anything else right now. Each step I take is calculated to avoid the cactus and sagebrush.
He gives me a reassuring smile and wraps me in his arms under the cover of a lone juniper.
I shove my face into his chest, and we hold one another through the gusting bursts of rain, the warmth of our chests creating a haven against the storm around us.
When the rain lets up, Cash and I search the ground. The tracks have disappeared.
“We have to keep going. We’re already out here,” I plead, and he doesn’t argue.
Mud cakes my shoes as I follow him to the crest of the hill.
I stretch on to my tiptoes to see down the hillside.
Below is a basin a couple of miles wide.
Patches of scrub oak grow as tall as houses.
Cottonwoods weave through the creek bottom, creating a neon-green ribbon amid the hunter-green shades of the juniper forest. There are small meadows in the middle of it all, scattered here and there, the grass tall and thick, waving in the breeze.
And that’s when I see him, grazing below. A grin breaks over my face and I jump up and down. Sweet relief settles into my bones like honey melting on a hot raspberry muffin.
“There he is!” I yell.
We start down the hill and rocks slide under our feet.
I fall to my butt and my hands scream with stinging pain as I catch myself.
Cash’s dark hair is blown upward in wisps as he turns against the breeze to help me up.
When we start again, a glinting light catches my eye across the basin.
It goes in and out of view and twinkles like a star snaking through the scrub oak.
“What is that?” Cash asks.
“I don’t know.”
Down the hill, but still about a mile away from where we saw the light, our view of Blue and the light disappears.
We walk through a meadow where the grass is so tall I lose sight of Cash for a few seconds at a time.
We’ve got to be close now. I whistle to Blue – a whistle Grandpa trained him to come to when it’s time to eat.
“Who’s whistling over there?” a man’s voice yells.
Cash and I stop in our tracks and stare at each other.
The man comes into view on his horse. He rides closer, the grass rustling against the sides of his legs.
He has on a black ball cap with Drake Watson Beef Co.
embroidered on the front. He stops and dismounts, swinging a leg over the horse’s back as though he’s been riding all day and his legs are sore.
Another horse comes trotting to catch up, and that’s when I see it – the light. It bounces up and down.
It’s coming from the front of a cowgirl hat – a shimmering rodeo queen crown with a pear-shaped rhinestone in the middle – worn by Kaylee.
“Rhett.” Cash puts out his hand to shake. “Nice to see you.”
“Howdy, Cash.” The man’s handlebar moustache curls along with his smile. “How’ve you been?”