Chapter 6
Cody
A woman never looks better than on horseback.
~ Jane Austen
My days off are not officially free. When I’m on the ranch, there’s always something to do. I don’t mind. I love our ranch. None of my brothers have outside jobs. When I’m here, I want to bear my share of the weight.
Today, that means riding the fence line to check for winter damage.
I saddle Jasper and mount him, riding at a gallop over hills and along flat pastures until we reach the section of fence line bordering the Buckners’.
It’s later afternoon and the sun is dropping lower, shedding soft golden light.
The late winter-short grass blows in the wind.
I climb a gentle slope toward the fence and pull Jasper to a stop, giving slack to his reins so he can bend to graze.
“What do you think, buddy? Should I shoot my shot?” I ask my horse. He ignores me.
“Captain,” I try the word on for size.
It’s not as if I’ve never considered a promotion. I just didn’t foresee the option coming up so soon. My life is a carefully arranged string of dominoes. Pivoting one tile will send the others toppling forward. Chain reaction or status quo? That’s the question.
I crest the ridge and glance up into the sky.
My eyes drop to the blur in the distance—Carli—riding Lark, her Palomino quarter horse.
They roll forward, rider and horse as one, cadence strong and sure—dark mane fluttering over blonde body.
Carli rides low over the neck—her hair loose, blowing behind her.
Jasper pricks his ears and exhales sharply.
I’ve watched Carli ride my whole life. But this—this is different.
She’s one with the wind and the sunlight.
Abandoned to the ride like a dancer caught up in the music.
She is freedom and beauty—a wildness to her that belongs to her alone.
I hold my breath—as if even an exhale could alert her to my presence.
Something inside me stirs and settles at the same time. Jasper shifts under me, picking up on the way I’ve gone still.
I don’t break the moment. It’s hers. I’m an accidental intruder with every right to be here and no business looking as long as I do.
I rein Jasper in gently, breathing in time with him.
Carli slows. I’m not sure why. If there were bushes or a low-hanging tree, I’d hide.
Unfortunately, I’m in plain view. Her gaze drifts across the horizon and then up the ridge.
She rides on at a trot, but then turns and rides closer.
Jasper shifts. I run my hand down his neck. He settles, but then he whinnies.
Carli’s gaze flicks around and lands on me. A smile blooms across her face and she waves. I raise my hand and wave back.
She rides over and says, “Hi.”
She’s breathless, windblown, and the smile on her face won’t quit. It hits me harder than it should. I look down for a second, pretending to work a twist out of Jasper’s reins.
“What are you doing out here?” she asks me.
I lift my eyes and meet her gaze. “Actually, I’m riding the fence line. You?”
“Clearing my head,” she says. “It’s been a while since I turned Lark loose.”
I nod. “Nothing like a good ride.”
She smooths her hand down Lark’s mane and neither of us says anything for a beat.
I shouldn’t notice the way her unruly hair frames her face or how her eyes still shine from the run, but I do.
I’m not sure what she sees when she looks back at me.
We stare at one another, a shadow of her smile still lingering.
I shouldn’t want this moment to stretch out indefinitely.
“I’d better …” I say, at the same time as Carli says, “Well, I’m going to …”
She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and it springs free.
We both laugh and she huffs out a soft breath. Something in my chest pulls tight.
I glance down the fence line and say, “I need to get to work while there’s still light.”
“Yeah.” She tips her head in the direction of her home. “I’d better get back. The feed bags won’t top themselves.”
A low laugh slips out and I say, “I hear that.” I give Jasper a nudge and glance at Carli one last time. “See you around, Chuck.”
“See you, Cody,” she says, making a clicking noise to Lark and turning in the other direction.
I pivot on my saddle and watch her take off down the ridge and across the pasture.
I ride on along the fence line, slowing Jasper to a trot, my eyes scanning every wire and post, looking for sags or signs of rot. But my mind won’t stay on the job. Instead, I see her—wild and free, hair flying, eyes bright.
I check fences until the sun drops low on the horizon, trying to fit my feelings back into a box behind my ribs where they belong.
Then I take my own ride, hard and fast toward home, only slowing when the barn is in sight. I walk Jasper into his stall, unsaddling him with deliberate hands. I brush him down, using each steady stroke to ground myself.
I’m a Lawson. She’s a Buckner. We’re going to stay on our sides of the fence line. That’s how it needs to be.
I’m dumping and refilling Jasper’s water bucket when Jace walks into the barn.
“Sorry it took me a bit to get over here,” he says. “Things have been busy. We’re prepping the farrowing stalls and stepping up health checks.”
“That sounds way too familiar to me. Everything else takes second place during calving season too.” I shake my head and add, “We’ve gotta get out more.”
He chuckles softly. “Agreed. Let me know when you figure out how that works for guys like us.”
“I plan to figure it out,” I assure him.
“So, your messages sounded like you wanted to talk about something,” he says, cutting to the point as usual.
“Yeah. I did.” I hang Jasper’s water and lead him to it. Then I run a hand down his spine checking for hot spots or anything out of the ordinary.
I pause, looking Jace in the eyes. “Captain pulled me in the other day.”
“Yeah? Did you do something to bring that on?”
“That’s where my thoughts went too.”
I step past Jace, grabbing the pitchfork to loosen a flake of hay. I take it to Jasper’s stall, throw it into his feeder and top it with a scoop of grain.
Brushing my hands off and parking the pitchfork next to the hay bales, I slide Jasper’s stall door shut and lean back against the barn wall.
“I wasn’t in trouble. He’s got an opportunity to go for battalion chief and he wants me to consider applying for captain.”
Jace whistles. “Nice.”
“In theory, yeah. What man doesn’t want a promotion? It’s a compliment, recognition of our value, more money. I’d be the boss of my crew.”
“Sounds good,” Jace says. “And you’ve earned it.”
I rub the back of my neck. “I’m torn.”
“Between?”
I wave my hand around the barn. “This. Everything my family needs …” I blow out a breath. “I don’t know why I’m saying this to you of all people. You and Carli share the load over at your place. I’ve got four siblings to share the load with me. And I’m already gone every other day.”
“Your schedule wouldn’t change much would it?”
“No, probably not at all. But the load would be heavier. I’d bear more responsibility.”
He nods. “You’ll just have to figure out which trajectory you want for your future.”
“Meaning?”
“Do you see yourself as a rancher or a fireman?”
I sigh. “Both?”
He chuckles. “If that’s possible, say yes. If it’s not, keep doing what you’re doing until one or the other demands more than you can give.”
“Sounds simple,” I say.
“You and I both know it’s not. I’m still trying to find the right time to approach Dad about vet school. You’re asking the wrong farmer for advice.”
“Nah. I asked you for a reason.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re my best friend.”
“Got me there.” Jace smiles and claps me on the back as we walk toward the main house.
“Stay for dinner?” I ask him.
“Definitely.”
Two days later, Luke and I are up at the fence line finishing repairs.
The sound of a UTV breaks the silence between us. I glance down the hill. McKenna’s driving and Carli’s in the passenger seat with her feet propped up on the dash.
They park near us and hop out.
“Hey, guys,” Mac says. “Mom asked me to bring you food.”
“And you said yes?” Luke teases.
“Hey, Hollywood,” I say to my sister, but my smile is directed at Carli. “Remember how to repair a fence?”
McKenna props her hands on her hips. “Hollywood? Okay then. Autographs available after dinner. Management takes a cut.”
Luke laughs way too hard. I just smile. Carli does too, quiet but amused.
McKenna extends her hand toward Luke. “Give me that.”
He places the wire stretcher in her hand. She squats low and ratchets the wire.
“Fencing pliers,” she orders, her open palm extended like a surgeon to her team of operating room staff.
I chuckle and hand them over.
McKenna lines up the staple. “Hammer.”
Luke supplies the next tool, his proud smile on full display.
McKenna taps four times, each whack embedding the staple more deeply into the post. Then she stands, handing me the hammer and pliers and brushing her hands off.
“Hollywood, my patootie. I’m still a Tennessee cowgirl.”
“As evidenced by your grit and spirit,” I admit.
More than anything, I wanted to remind her of her roots.
She’s about to marry this guy from California.
I know they’re in love. But they’re from such different worlds.
Although, Mac’s always been one to put herself in front of the camera—willingly.
Still, she needs to remember the goodness of ranching life and what it means to her.
“Okay, enough trying to pass your responsibilities off on me,” McKenna says with a playful smile. She pulls the bag of sandwiches out of the UTV and hands one to each of us. “Now, eat up and get back to work so I can talk to my best friend about boys.”
McKenna loops her arm around Carli’s and walks back to the UTV.
“See you, Carli,” Luke says in a falsetto.
“See you, Lukey,” she says in an even higher voice.
“Later, Chuck,” I say with a smile.
“Cody,” she says with a shy grin. Her eyes flick to mine, but then she follows my sister back to the UTV and they drive away as quickly as they came.
I watch them drive off and shove my sandwich in my mouth so Luke won’t read my emotions.
It seems I’m destined to watch Carli come and go—always just out of reach.