14. Denton
DENTON
Morning comes quiet and cool. A silence spreads throughout the house that settles deep after a storm. The sun isn’t up yet. I tiptoe out onto the front porch—leg still a little sore from tweaking it in the fight.
My heart feels heavy with the weight of last night.
I want to fucking kill Huck Kenzington. I watched Sorrel struggle through her story, hands trembling as she recounted everything he did to her.
It was almost too much to hear. I could see how badly it hurt her to say it.
I wanted to hold her in my arms and take away her pain.
He took a woman so powerful and beautiful and tried to grind her down until she was nothing but dust underneath his boots.
The bar fight plays over in my mind—Huck’s rage, Sorrel standing tall even when she looked like she wanted to break.
I realize now why she had been so cool toward me.
I can’t blame her for having her guard up.
She’s still healing and needs to face the damage he caused.
I’ll give her the time she needs and I’ll be here for her through it all.
She reminds me of a sweet dandelion that someone stomped on, but dandelions aren't weak. They're strong and resilient, and with a little water and sunshine, they perk right back up.
It’s as if Sorrel has come back to life again over the past few days. Her smile is brighter and her shoulders stand taller. She looks like the weight of everything has lifted off her and I’m sure as hell happy that I was the one she confided in.
It’s our last day here on the ranch, and the week has flown by.
My agent is still nagging me to make a decision about the tour we were offered.
I’m so damn torn. I don’t want to let the guys down.
I’m not the only one who has been working toward this.
But I’ve grown accustomed to ranch life over the last week.
Every morning over the past week we woke before dawn. Hot coffee and breakfast were ready to go and we were horseback the rest of the day. There was always work to be done—fixing fences, doctoring calves, you name it. The fact that I got to do it all with Sorrel just made it that much better.
Sorrel and I started up a routine, and every afternoon we would have our lunch together on the porch of her cabin.
She’d pop her boots off and cross her legs beneath her while I swung us back and forth on the porch swing.
Dash would sit underneath her, begging for food, and we’d both throw him a couple of bites and chuckle.
It was all so peaceful, and I’d grown to love the familiarness of it all.
No loud and rowdy crowds or bright lights. Just staying in one place and learning more about myself than I ever knew was possible. But I figured the others would be eager to get moving—tour life calls for speed, and these boys won’t linger in a place this slow for much longer.
I took my time getting out of bed this morning—it being the last day and all. By the time I wandered out of my room, Johnny and the rest were already packing up, ready to roll.
Ray is back to pick us up in the bus, waiting on us all to load our gear.
“Hey, you guys heading out?” I ask Johnny.
“Yeah, I think we’ve had enough fun playing cowboys,” he jokes.
Jo walks in with a bunch of to-go containers filled with all kinds of baked goods. She loved how much Johnny could eat and she sure kept him fed all week.
“JoJo baby, I sure am going to miss your cooking,” he says with a wink and nod in her direction.
“You come back anytime and I’ll take care of you.” She smiles big.
God, he’s such a flirt. I shake my head and laugh.
I start toward my room to pack my things, but then I spot Sorrel out of the corner of my eye, through the open door as she’s riding up on Duke. She sits tall in the saddle, eyes sharp but tired. When she calls me over, I can sense something is wrong.
I walk out onto the porch and she’s standing there at the railing, fidgeting with the reins in her hands.
“You leaving?” she asks, voice low and timid.
“Our week is up—figured you’d be kicking us out first thing. The boys all said they’re done playing cowboys.”
She nods, a little stiff. “You weren't playing anymore, Denton.”
“No, ma’am I wasn’t,” I say, no hesitation.
There’s no gleam in her eyes but there’s something honest there that makes me want to stay—even if I’m not sure what I’d be signing up for.
“I could stay,” I blurt out.
“You got your tour to get back to. I have a few rodeos coming up, anyway. I won't be around much longer,” she says, looking away from me.
“Then I’ll go with you. Are they pro rodeos? I have a contact so we can play at any pro rodeo. I never agreed to tour, Sorrel.”
“You have to, Denton. You’re meant to be a performer. This life is too slow for you. You’ll grow complacent and hate it here eventually.”
Part of me knows she’s right, but there’s something worth exploring between us. I just can’t leave yet. I look at the guys loading up, ready to get on with their lives, but my boots feel rooted here.
“Hey, y’all, listen up,” I shout in their direction. “Head home for a while, spend some time with your families, play some smoke-filled bars in Nashville like old times, and I’ll call when we got a gig lined up. I—I can’t leave here just yet,” I stutter.
They all look at me with understanding.
Ray gives my shoulder a squeeze as he walks past me and into the bus.
Fuck, I feel horrible. I haven’t even told them about the tour yet. Was it wrong of me? Yes. But I will eventually. I just need a little more time to get things sorted out. This isn’t just about proving to Sorrel I’m not Huck. It’s about being somewhere real. Somewhere I can finally stop running.
. . .
I don’t waste any time after the others leave. I grab some gear and head straight to the barn.
I figure if I’m going to prove myself, I better get my hands dirty. Sorrel will see I’m serious about this way of life and that I can slow down. I’m not going anywhere yet.
Jo’s breakfast is still settling in, but the smell of hay and leather is exactly what I need to be around. I find Sutton and Ryder already at work, fixing a fence near the north pasture.
“Morning, Denton,” Ryder calls, wiping sweat off his brow. “Ready to earn your keep?”
“More than ready!”
Ryder grins, handing me the fencing pliers. “Good man. We’ll put you to work.”
The hours pass fast, filled with fence repairs, feeding cattle, and even wrangling a stubborn colt that refused to be caught. Sorrel was nearby, watching but not saying much. I catch her eyes a few times, and each time, there’s a flicker of something—curiosity?
Maybe a little respect? I can’t quite put a finger on it.
We take up our usual lunch spots. It feels different this time, partially because I’m supposed to be gone, and I think she wasn't expecting we’d be here together again today.
“I’m not easy to figure out,” she says quietly. “And I have trust issues.”
I nod. “I’m not here to fix things overnight. Just to show up and show you I won’t just walk away.”
She glances at me, a small smile breaking through. “Well, you’re doing better than most.”
Maybe this really could be the start of something real. That little flicker of hope ignites and continues growing in my chest.