Chapter 12
Kacey
Kacey
SOS
Kacey
This is all your fault and I hate you.
Ifly into my house and scramble for some clean jeans and a long-sleeve shirt.
I don’t have time to think about what I’m wearing; I just need clean clothes.
I can’t believe I just agreed to go out with Knox.
He said it’s not a date, but that isn’t stopping me from having a panic attack.
I feel like I’m in a crowded Costco—chest tight, palms sweaty, breathing in short panting breaths.
I’m pathetic.
Kacey
HELLO? Did you not see the SOS??!
I run into the bathroom to brush my teeth and throw on some mascara. Finally, my phone vibrates.
Jessie
Good lord woman, what has your panties in a wad?
Jessie
I hope it’s Knox. Please tell me it’s Knox.
Kacey
My panties are not in a wad. You convinced me to get to know him, and I have been. At the ranch, with a horse between us. Until now.
Jessie
Ooo what’s between you now?
Kacey
Jessie! I’m serious, I’m freaking out here. He asked me out to dinner again, and I said yes. I’m in my house changing right now.
Jessie
Okay, just take a deep breath. He’s obviously interested in you, so just be yourself. Eat a burger, have a beer, no pressure, right?
Kacey
Right. No pressure. He just pulled up, gotta go. Thanks!
Jessie
Details! I want details after!
I walk out of the house and run down the stairs to Knox’s truck before he can try to come inside. In the middle of the living room is a pile of unfolded laundry next to a stack of romance books. I’m good with him not seeing that. I’m stressed enough as it is.
As soon as I climb in, Knox rushes to say, “Sorry about the mess. I don’t clean my work truck near as much as the rodeo truck.” He sounds frazzled, and for some reason that makes me feel slightly better. I guess I’m not the only one who’s stressed about this “not a date.”
I look around, and it’s clean. There might be some dust and an empty bottle here or there, but if he thinks this is dirty, he’d have a heart attack if he got in one of the ranch trucks.
Mr. Fancy Pants here with two trucks.
“You have a separate truck for rodeo?”
“Yeah, most guys do. With the miles we put on and having a Capri camper on the back, it just makes sense.”
That’s fair, I never thought about the camper.
I spend the drive to town answering Knox’s questions about Cottonwood Valley and the surrounding area.
At the café, we make small talk until after we’ve ordered our food, then he takes a sip of his water before asking, “So, have you always wanted to be a rancher?”
For this not being a date, that is very much a first date question.
I knew I should’ve picked a restaurant that served alcohol.
“Yeah, I have. Even before my mom died, I was always out with Dad checking pairs or feeding the horses. I loved it all, even as a child. I never see myself leaving the ranch.”
Knox’s eyes go wide. “I didn’t know about your mom. I’m sorry. When did she pass?”
Right. Because he doesn’t know me, not really anyway. He’s tried to ask a few questions while we work with Buck, but I haven’t given him much.
“It was a long time ago. I was seven. It was a car accident.” I pause when he gives me a sympathetic look before changing the subject. “Are you close with your parents?” If he wants to play twenty questions, he’ll have to pony up a few answers, too.
“I am with my mom. She and my sister don’t live far from me. I was close with my dad growing up—he taught me how to be a cowboy. But when he and Mom divorced, and he remarried, all his focus turned to his new family. We rarely talk anymore.”
I watch his facial expressions closely. He doesn’t seem upset discussing this. He says it like it’s just facts and not his relationship—or lack thereof—with his dad.
“I’m sorry, that must be hard. I don’t know what I’d do without my dad.”
“I’ve noticed you two seem close. Although, I’m not sure how close you can be when he knew who I was, he’s watched me ride. You, however, had no idea who I was,” Knox says playfully. With a smirk on his face, I know he’s messing with me.
“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Hot Shot bull rider. How long have you rode for, anyway?”
“Since I was eight. My dad put me on a steer thinking I’d fall off, it’d hurt, and that would get it out of my system. Jokes on him—twenty-two years later it’s still not out of my system.”
“Eight?! That’s insane. I know you said steer, but I still can’t imagine putting an eight-year-old on one.”
He laughs. “Yeah, it sounds a little young, but you’d be surprised how young most of today’s professional riders started.”
His phone vibrates on the table. I glance at it and see it’s a photo of him and a pretty woman in her fifties, with the same hair as Knox, and a little boy around six years old. He catches me looking.
“It’s my mom. Do you mind?”
“No, of course not. Answer it.”
I take a drink of my water and look away, trying not to eavesdrop. The café is empty though and I can hear every word.
“Hey, Mom,” he says as he takes his ball cap off, to smooth his curls. It does nothing—they bounce right back and it’s cute.
“Hi, Knox, honey. Are you still in Colorado? The dishwasher is leaking all over the floor. I got it pulled out and the water shut off, but I can’t figure out where the leak is coming from.”
“Yeah, I’m still out here. Is Logan gone? I can call Trey in the morning and send him over. He needs something to do, anyway.”
“Yes, he’s gone until next week. If Trey could come, that would be wonderful. I’ll bake him some cookies.”
I fight to hide my smile. She sounds so sweet.
“Ha, I’m sure he’d appreciate that. You’re okay now though? It’s not leaking anymore?” The way he talks to her makes my heart flutter. It’s sweet, you can hear how much he loves her in his voice.
“No, no, it’s shut off. There is no hurry.”
“Alright, good. Hey, Ma, I’m at dinner with a friend. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Of course. Have fun, honey. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” Knox sets his phone down right as our food comes.
What I wouldn’t give to be able to call my mom. It’s been years, but I still miss her. I see other girls out shopping or getting coffee with their moms and my heart breaks all over again.
Most people think of the big things you’ll miss them at—birthdays, graduation, your wedding—and they aren’t wrong. But often times, it’s the small moments you see other people getting to have with their moms that make you hold your breath through the wave of grief.
Knox clears his throat. “Sorry about that. She lives alone, so my brother-in-law Logan and I help out a lot, but he’s out of town for work.”
“It’s nice of you both to help her. Is Trey your brother?”
He smiles. “No, it’s just me and my sister.
Trey is my traveling partner, and we live together.
He’s a lot, very dramatic, and a little on the wild side, but he’s a good friend.
The best, actually. He can fix just about anything and is always helping friends out.
He even takes tools on the road with us. ”
We eat our burgers and fries while he tells me more about him and Trey meeting and becoming friends. He even tells me a couple of stories about Trey and the wild things he’s done on the road.
“He sounds like Jessie. She’s wild and has zero filter. Drives Carson insane sometimes and I swear she does it on purpose.”
“Well, heaven help us all if Trey and Jessie ever meet.”
“I don’t know . . . the way you describe him, I might pay a pretty penny to see him give Jessie a run for her money.”
“How long have you two been friends?”
“As long as I can remember, she’s been my best friend. We are polar opposites personality-wise, but I think that’s why we work.”
We finish our food while I tell him stories about Jessie and me growing up.
I’m relaxed until he asks, “So, Carson . . . you guys seem pretty close, and I get the feeling he doesn't like me very much.”
I try to swallow the lump in my throat. Carson doesn’t like any man who looks at me, not since Garrett. But I can’t tell Knox that—I won’t discuss Garrett with him.
“He’s just protective and a little grumpy sometimes. He came to the ranch when he was eighteen, a year after my mom died. He became more of a babysitter than a ranch hand for my dad and we’ve always been close. He’s the closest thing I have to a sibling.”
“That makes sense. I’m pretty protective of my sister, too. I bet you and Jessie ran him ragged as kids.” He laughs and shakes his head when I nod vigorously. “Oh yeah, he got his first gray hair at twenty-six and blamed us.”
The waitress brings our check, and Knox refuses to split it.
He said this wasn’t a date, but I could tell this was an argument I wouldn’t win.
After he pays, we head back to the ranch, and I’m starting to think Jessie was right.
This was fun. The longer we talked, the more comfortable I became.
Knox seems genuinely interested in my life and the people in it, not just the ranch.
Not that I’ll ever tell Jessie she was right—she’d be insufferable.