Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Dakota
It’s so awkward.
I can practically feel the tension between Clint and me, thick enough to slice with a butter knife. All I want is to say something, anything to break the silence, but no words come to me.
My mouth is dry, my palms are suddenly clammy, and I have this nagging feeling that I should just start doing jumping jacks to distract myself from the awkwardness. But that might just make things worse.
I glance over at Clint, who’s standing there looking like he’s trying to decide whether to say something or just go full cowboy and ride off into the sunset. He’s got that tight-lipped look, battling with himself.
There’s a weird kind of stillness between us, and I think we might both end up tripping over ourselves trying to break the silence.
Then, as if on cue, we both start talking at the exact same time.
“So how are—”
“What did you—”
It’s ridiculously cliché.
We freeze.
And then we both laugh. It’s light and easy, and somehow that laugh makes everything a little less tense. We’ve both been trying too hard and finally gave up on being cool.
He clears his throat. “Uh, you were saying something?”
“Me?” I blink, surprised he actually wants me to continue. “I was just asking how you were.”
“I’m good. What about you? The house stuff?”
“It’s… well, it’s a lot.” I fidget with the sleeve of my shirt, suddenly self-conscious. “I didn’t realize how many boxes of junk my grandfather had accumulated over the years.”
Clint nods sympathetically, but something in his eyes makes me think he’s wondering if I’m only talking about the house. His gaze flickers briefly to the distance, like he’s waiting for me to say something more.
I shift uncomfortably on my feet. The tension is back, but I’m determined to push past it.
“I also had a meeting with a guy from Buck Realty who was… well, not the most pleasant.”
Clint raises an eyebrow, his expression shifting to something sharper. “Buck Realty?”
“Yeah, it’s the only real estate agency in town, right?” I roll my eyes, the frustration creeping into my words. “But he was moaning about all the changes the house needs… unless I want to lower the asking price.”
Clint’s jaw tightens slightly, and I swear he’s about to say something else. He doesn’t, though. He just crosses his arms, clearly irritated on my behalf.
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“Exactly!” I exhale sharply. “I mean, I get it… he’s just doing his job. But it was like he wasn’t even hearing me. He was kinda rude, if I’m honest. Do you have any experience with them?”
“Only when Thomas Buck wanted to buy the ranch. He came with that snotty assistant of his. Derek, or something? The one with that cocky swagger.”
“Wait… really?” I blink, surprised by the sudden shift. “I didn’t know Thomas came here. How did that go?”
Clint lets out a sharp breath, and he looks a little… off. Like there’s more to this than he’s letting on.
“I wouldn’t say it ‘went’ anywhere,” he mutters, looking off into the distance as if the memory’s still fresh in his mind.
“Buck’s always been a bit of a slick talker.
His whole thing is making you feel like you’re lucky just to be in the room with him.
But when it came to the ranch? Nah. He wasn’t interested in real conversations.
Just numbers. A lot of them. I don’t think he cares much for people. Just properties.”
I blink, taking it in. “He sounds… charming.”
Clint cracks a small, tight smile. “If by ‘charming’ you mean ‘sketchy,’ then yeah.”
That actually makes me laugh a little, despite everything.
“That’s exactly how his guy came across,” I say. “Like he’s got some magic number that makes every place look like a ‘fixer upper’… until you’re willing to sell it his way.”
“Exactly,” Clint agrees. “He’s been known to pressure people into taking lower offers, promising them it’s all for their benefit. Makes them think it’s the only option.”
I frown, my thoughts racing. “That leaves me a little lost. Maybe I should look for someone else to help me…”
Clint’s expression softens, and I think he’s going to offer to help me find another agent. Or maybe something more, like a solution to my mounting frustration. But before either of us can say anything, a loud, almost infectious laugh cuts through the tension.
“Wooooo!” a tiny voice rings out, followed by the unmistakable sound of hooves on dirt.
I turn instinctively, my eyes catching sight of Reid and Charlie as they trot by, both of them grinning ear to ear. Charlie, perched on a small horse that Reid is guiding expertly, looks like he’s never been happier.
Reid gives a quick wave as they pass, his wide grin unmistakable. “Hey, Dakota! Look at him go!”
Charlie’s face lights up like a firecracker, and I can’t help but smile despite myself. He’s so small on the horse, but he’s holding the reins like he’s been doing it forever, sitting up straight in the saddle with all the confidence of a seasoned rider.
Reid’s hands hover just near the reins, but it’s clear he’s letting Charlie feel the rhythm of the horse, giving him the space to figure it out on his own. While still keeping a watchful eye, of course.
I watch them for a few seconds, my heart easing as Charlie gives another excited “Wooo!” Reid keeps a good pace, just enough to show Charlie how it’s done without pushing him too hard.
The bond between them is so natural, so easy, and it makes me relax just a little.
“Well, I’ll be,” Clint says. “Reid’s got him trained up already, huh?”
I nod, feeling an unexpected lump in my throat at the sight. “Yeah. I didn’t think he’d be ready for this kind of thing yet, but Reid’s really good with him.”
Clint watches them for a beat, his gaze closed off. “Reid’s a good guy. He’s patient with the horses, and even more patient with people, especially kids. He’s a good guy to have on the ranch.”
I glance over at Clint, catching a flicker of something in his eyes. Respect, maybe, or even a little admiration for Reid’s ability to connect with people. It feels like he’s opening up a bit, and I appreciate that.
As Reid and Charlie continue down the path, their figures growing smaller as they round the corner, the tension between Clint and me starts to fade.
The sound of hooves vanishes into the distance, leaving just the quiet hum of the wind and the occasional chirp from the trees. The world has paused, giving us a chance to just breathe without our past or the awkwardness in the air.
I glance at Clint, who’s watching the spot where Reid and Charlie disappeared. He’s standing a little more relaxed now, his posture easing, and I’m starting to wonder if the sight of Reid with Charlie was like a small reset button for him, too.
“So…” I begin, unsure of how to bridge the silence that follows. “Is it just Reid that’s good with kids? Or are you, too?”
My heart races. Should I be asking this?
I guess I do need to know in case I ever get the chance to tell him about Charlie…
Clint chuckles softly, his shoulders rolling in a small shrug. “Well, I’m good with the ranch hands and horses. But kids? I’m still figuring that out.”
“I’m guessing you’re more of a ‘hands-on’ type?” I ask, an eyebrow lifted. “You know, teaching ’em by example?”
He looks at me, a glint of humor in his eyes.
“Something like that.” He pauses, then adds, “I try to keep it simple. Doesn’t take much to show them what to do, but if you want ’em to trust you… that’s the hard part.”
I nod, my mind briefly flickering to Charlie. “I think Reid’s got that trust thing down. Charlie seems to absolutely adore him.”
Clint tilts his head slightly, his eyes still focused on the distant barn. He doesn’t respond immediately, and I can feel the hesitation, like he’s choosing his words carefully, testing the waters between us.
My heart beats faster. I’m unsure if I should push through the silence or let it linger.
But just as we’re about to speak again, just as the moment teeters on the edge of something new, a scream rips through the wind.
Sharp. Full of terror.
It’s a sound I’ve never heard before, but I know it when I hear it.
“Charlie!” I shout, panic exploding in my chest like a bomb.
The world tilts, my feet already moving before my brain even registers it. I don’t think. I don’t stop. I just bolt.
My legs move faster than I thought possible, adrenaline flooding my veins, and Clint is right behind me, no hesitation, his long strides eating up the distance between us like he’s done this a hundred times before.
I don’t even glance back. I can’t. The only thing I can focus on is the sound of Charlie’s voice, the terror in it.
It’s tearing through everything I thought I knew about safety. My breath comes in jagged gasps, my heart beating louder with every step.
I can feel Clint’s presence, intense and unwavering behind me, but it doesn’t matter. In this moment, there’s nothing but the need to reach my son.
To make sure he’s okay.