Chapter Twenty-Seven
July, eleven years ago
Mitch
Mitch swung the looped rope around, getting used to its feel and weight. Biting his bottom lip when it almost hit him in the face, he shot an accusatory glare at Kit. “You’ve been lying, this is fucking hard!”
Kit shook his head, a wide grin on his mouth. He signed: “You wanted to learn how to rope.”
“Yeah, but you were meant to teach me, not stand there and enjoy my misery,” Mitch shot back from atop Diamond, holding on to the reins with his left hand.
Diamond snorted, letting Mitch guide him in a circle over the empty paddock.
Kit grinned. “You need to have your swing down and pointed directly at your target.” He gestured to the bale of hay into which he’d stuck a dummy plastic calf head earlier. “Don’t swing without your target in mind.”
Mitch blew a long exhale and positioned Diamond on the right of the dummy calf. He narrowed his eyes, urging Diamond forward and swinging the rope in his right hand, his gaze fixed on his target.
He threw the rope, and it fell into the dust, missing the hay bale. “Damn it!”
Kit walked up to him, his brow raised under his straw hat, and he signed swiftly. “Keep your eyes on the calf and get directly behind it, or on the left hip.”
“I thought you’re meant to have it on the right hip,” Mitch replied.
“Yes. But if you do it my way, you can choose where to put your slack. Roping on the right side of the calf limits your slack. And when the rope tightens, it presses on the horse’s cheek, moving the horse to the left.”
Mitch blinked, watching Kit’s hands signing with concentration.
He’d picked up sign language since he started coming to the ranch, but when Kit—or Ali—were signing fast, he missed some words.
The everyday conversations, he could manage well, but with so much of the language used at the ranch being jargon that was new to him anyway, Kit sometimes had to sign to him letter by letter, until Mitch learned the signs for new words.
“Sorry, can you repeat that? I’m not sure I got it,” Mitch said apologetically, lifting his hat off his head and wiping the sweat off his forehead with a spotted face towel he kept in his breast pocket. It was boiling today.
Kit nodded, signing the same message at a much slower pace.
Mitch smiled at him. “Easy for you to say, you’re the fastest roper I’ve seen.”
“Doesn’t mean much coming from you, how many rodeos have you been to? Ten?”
Mitch chuckled, swatting Kit’s shoulder with the towel. “Twelve and counting, thank you very much.”
He hadn’t really been to that many since Jackie had quit barrel racing, but they went out sometimes to the ones close to Austin, often with Lyla and Nick, who had been on and off for the past two years, but now were mostly on.
They had this love–hate relationship where neither could live without the other, but they couldn’t really stay together long enough for the honeymoon phase to end so they could discover who they were as a couple.
Personally, Mitch thought they were great together and hoped they would make it work.
“Hello, cowboys.” Jackie’s voice boomed across the paddock as she pushed the gate and strolled in, holding a wicker basket in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. “How is he doing, Kit?”
Kit bit back a smile and signed: “We’ll make a cowboy out of him, eventually.”
Jackie trilled a laugh, passing Kit the water bottle. “I’m glad to hear he isn’t a hopeless case. Would be a shame, given the future we’re planning.”
Mitch’s heart grew ten sizes whenever she said something like that. They’d applied to mostly the same grad schools—or at least ones close by—and already talked about moving in together when he was in vet school, and she was in med school.
Kit tilted his head. “I thought you wanted to be a hotshot pediatric surgeon.”
Mitch got down from Diamond, pulled Jackie to him by the belt loops in her denim shorts and wrapped an arm around her, dropping a kiss on the side of her neck. “She wants to move to a ranch outside one of the big cities once she’s an attending.”
Jackie caught his hand on her waist and tilted her head up, her lips meeting his. “She does indeed,” she whispered against his lips. Cupping his cheek, she kissed him.
When they drew apart, Kit was watching them with amusement. “Don’t mind me.” He opened the water bottle and took a long sip. “If you’ve had enough for today, I’m going to go check on Ali.” He turned on his heel and walked toward the bunkhouse.
Jackie pressed her open palm above Mitch’s heart, taking off his hat with her other hand and putting it on her head. “Does it suit me?”
The hat covered her forehead, stopping on top of her ears.
Mitch smiled, pushing it back so he could look into her eyes. “Everything suits you, love.”
Jackie hummed, tilting her head and moving both of her hands up his chest. “You haven’t called me love before the summer, and now you do all the time. Why?”
“Don’t you like it?”
“On the contrary. I love it, love.” The sunlight brightened her blue eyes and set her grin on fire. She drew away from him, picking up the basket. “Come on, cowboy. We’re going to have a picnic by the lake.”
With Diamond tired after spending all day out in the sun, they hosed him down and got him back in the barn for some rest. When the weather was cooler, they rode to the lake, which was their spot, at the edge of the ranch’s boundary.
Today wasn’t one of these days; the unforgiving sun burned bright in the sky.
Jackie threw Mitch the keys to one of two ATVs parked outside Quack Barn—the name still puzzled Mitch, given they kept cattle there, but he’d stopped questioning it the first summer he worked there, when no one was able to explain it and Mimi glared at him over her plate of meatloaf when he’d asked.
“We’ll take one of these.” Jackie passed him the basket and climbed on at the front.
“Won’t Dustin and Colt mind?”
Jackie shrugged; her hands were already clasping the handles. “I asked, they don’t need them at all today.”
Mitch strapped the basket to the toolbox at the back of the ATV. Then, he slid on the seat behind Jackie, wrapping his arms around her waist.
She sucked in a breath, and he put his chin on her shoulder.
“What’s the occasion for the picnic?” he asked.
Jackie started the engine. “I missed you the past few days. And it’s our last summer before graduation. I want to make some extra memories. Special ones.”
His teeth nipped the soft skin of her neck. “Every day with you is special.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Mitch from Portland, the sweetest talker in all of Texas. Who would’ve known that day you fell over your own suitcase.”
The ATV’s engine roared as they drove away from the ranch buildings, leaving them behind and driving through the fields, into the wooded area at the very back of the ranch that opened up to a small lake.
Jackie parked the ATV under one of the sycamore trees. She climbed down, looking around with wonder. “I love this place so much.”
Mitch smiled at the bald cypress where they’d carved their initials, with a small heart, the first time they had come here, over two years ago. He walked up to the tree and traced the letters with his thumb. “It feels like time doesn’t exist here.”
Jackie set the basket on the ground, opening it up to reveal a purple blanket and several Tupperware containers. “Sadly, we aren’t that lucky. But I got sandwiches, strawberries and peach iced tea.”
He chuckled, pushing himself off the tree trunk and helping her with the blanket. The shade provided by the thick trees was a welcome respite after the past few days spent working in the blinding sun during the cattle move.
Jackie put her hands under her head as she lay on her back. She stared at the sky peeking through the tree crowns with a dreamlike expression. “Did I tell you I once saw a pair of bald eagles here?”
Mitch lay down next to her, his elbow grazing her ribs. She swallowed at his touch, and he bit back a grin.
For a time, he had been worried that the physical chemistry between them would slowly fizzle out.
He wasn’t sure how common it was for people to still be so affected by their partner after a while.
Or maybe he was given a bad example at home.
He couldn’t remember when his parents last looked like they enjoyed each other’s company.
But it turned out that, when it came to Jackie and him, there was nothing to be worried about.
Their relationship blossomed into the most sturdy, precious flower, capable of withstanding the toughest conditions.
Turning his head to glance at her profile, he caught her already looking at him and was struck breathless. Gods, she was so beautiful. He still didn’t believe she was his.
“I’ve never seen a real bald eagle,” he said, not taking his eyes off her.
She returned her gaze to the sky. “The pair I’ve seen were performing a cartwheel courtship flight. It was the most magnificent thing.”
“They mate for life, don’t they?” His pinkie effortlessly found hers.
Jackie hooked her finger with his, as they had done countless times before. “They do. Some people call that flight Daredevil Cartwheel.”
“I thought it’s a predatory ritual, not a romantic one. Like showing dominance?”
“Yeah, it can be, I guess. But they do it for mating, too. What’s more romantic than testing the skill and determination of your life partner?” She rolled to her side and propped herself up on her elbow. “They lock talons at the start, then they free-fall to the ground.”
“How is that romantic?” Mitch teased, sitting cross-legged.
“That ritual tests how brave they are when faced with an extreme situation.” She sat as well. “Eagles paired with long-term partners engage in it too to renew their commitment to one another.”
Mitch pulled her closer, lifting her into his lap. “Do you want us to tumble down to the ground at risk of dying?”
She wrapped her legs around his waist, intertwining her fingers with his. “Of course not. But it’s romantic.”
He dropped a kiss to her forehead. “When have you seen them?”