23. Twenty-Three
Twenty-Three
Kyla
Saying goodbye to Grace was harder than I thought it would be, especially with how she was acting. Grumpier than normal, she assured me it was due to one-to-many drinks at the rodeo, and since she refused to open up about anything, I trusted her.
I gave her a hug and didn’t let go, practically begging her to come back soon.
“I mean, wherever I am, please come,” I reiterated.
“You’ll be here,” she said back, giving me a final squeeze before grabbing her bag. She blew me a kiss and stepped into the terminal, turning back one more time to give me a wave.
You’ll be here .
She was so certain.
I pulled up to the arena just in time to see Rhett leading horses into the trailer. I pinched my brow when I noticed he wasn’t on Buckle. Of all the times I had seen that man on a horse, it was his Paint horse. But today he was mounted on a simple brown coat. Once Wyatt shut the trailer, he pulled the horse in my direction, a smile crossing his face as soon as we made eye contact. Giving me a wink, he turned, directing the horse back towards the pens.
I climbed the stairs to the stands and sat in the first row I came to, shoving my hands between my thighs.
You’ll be here.
I noticed Abi step out of the truck first, her boots hitting the ground with a thud and her blonde hair flying under her hat. Stetson rounded the corner and ran after his mom, the dust from the ground trailing after him. Wyatt was still by the trailer, making sure the horses were locked in. Then there was Lachlan. Mounted on his black horse, his black hat on his head as he rounded the bulls, he wore a smug look on his face. He made eye contact with me and nodded his head, breaking the eye contact when I gave him a wave.
I could very easily get off the stands and find a way to help, but just watching them work was . . . relaxing.
You’ll be here.
“Hey, Mrs. Hartwell. How was the drive?”
The sound of boots clanging on the metal forced me to turn. Rhett walked up the steps towards me. I didn’t even notice him get off the dirt, he just appeared. My breath caught as he sat down next to me, leaning back on his elbows on the seat behind him, his knees apart. I caught his scent and turned to look over my shoulder at him .
“Good. I miss her already,” I admitted spinning on the stands so I was straddling the bench. I lightly reached out and ran my fingers against his knee.
“What’s on your mind, Mrs. Hartwell?” he asked, a calmness to his voice he knew I needed.
“There wouldn’t happen to be rodeos in Arizona you can piggyback on? Maybe a day with Grace?” I asked, half-joking, half-hoping he would instantly add another day to the already long trip. But to see Grace again, even though she was just here, would be amazing.
“There’s always rodeos in Arizona.” He winked, his lips curling to a grin. “We can make that work. It’s not too late to get on the board, but that also lengthens the time we’re gone.”
“That’s fine,” I said quickly.
“You’re not worried about getting to Washington or anything?” Rhett dipped his chin and raised an eyebrow.
Washington?
I met his eyes for a split second, taking a deep inhale. Holding it for a few beats before letting it free. What was in Washington? Technically a job, which would give me a salary, a means to get back to teaching. But that was it. It was a way to “adult” and have the “logical” side of my life happy. But here— here— with Rhett’s knee lightly touching mine as the summer breeze hit his hair just right, that eyebrow still cocked, the logical side of me wasn’t screaming like it normally did. I watched as the Hartwell Family moved around the arena. Laughs filled the air as Stetson ran after a calf that broke free before making it into the trailer, even Lachlan smiled.
I started to roll my lips, but stopped and parted them slowly, releasing a slow laugh .
What about Washington . . .
Washington was logical, but here I felt a sense of security that was stronger than the logic Washington would offer.
I heard nothing but Grace’s voice.
You’ll be here . . .
I smiled and turned to Rhett. “No, not really,” I admitted, not only to him but to myself. Washington didn’t seem like it was real anymore. “I like it here.”
“If we add Arizona,” Rhett said as he looked at the computer screen with an atlas next to him on the kitchen island, “it would add two days to the trip, but they are still accepting cowboys, so . . .” With a smirk and not lifting his chin, a single eyebrow rose as he caught my glance. “Shall we go to Arizona?”
I leaned on the kitchen island and mirrored his smirk. “Are you sure?”
That eyebrow raised higher. “We met there, remember?” He winked. “Let’s add it to the list.” Pulling his attention back to the computer, he used his fingers to type away, silent as his eyes ran with the screen. “Done. Registered. Now . . .” Turning his body he grabbed the atlas.
“Who uses an atlas?’ I pushed myself off the counter and walked around the kitchen island, coming up next to him. “Google Maps exists for a reason.” I was tempted to run my hand across his shoulders, touch him like I knew he would want me to. That part of me still craved him nonstop, but the logical part stopped myself. He shook his head at me as he plugged in Google Maps on his computer. I smiled and reached for the atlas, sliding it towards me. “You know,” I said, my mind instantly turning to the one thing it should after seeing the city of Phoenix on the map, “my mom is in Arizona.”
Why did my mind even go to the subject? I was avoiding my mother—I hadn’t seen her since I left David—but there was this sudden, strange pull to reach out to her. To tell her about Rhett, about the ranch and the happiness I found here. Would she accept it? Or, like David, know it was all a farce? I could just imagine driving up to her lavish house in Phoenix—Rhett’s white truck dusted with mud getting tracks on her pristine driveway. Would she open the door and hug me, welcome me home, and say she was happy I was safe? Or would she roll her eyes?
He cocked his head and turned to me. “Should we pay her a visit?”
I shook my head. “I’d rather not but . . .”
At the end of the day, she was my mother and I wanted her to accept me.
“Kyla.” Rhett turned, slipping his arm around my waist, pulling me towards him. “Are you wanting to go visit your mom?”
I pressed into him, feeling his heat as my hands found his shoulders.
“It’s probably better she finds out through us and not through—”
“David,” he finished for me .
I sighed as the thought of him mentioning my mother at the rodeo resurfaced. Bringing Rhett to meet my mother would most likely add fuel to their fire.
“Do you want me to meet her?”
“Well, you’re my husband.” I raised my shoulders and rolled my lips. “You should, shouldn’t you?”
The corner of his lips tipped up, creating a small dimple I hadn’t noticed before. His eyes searched mine, landing on my mouth. He was going to kiss me; I could sense it. Deciding to bring my courage back, I leaned forward and kissed him sweetly before he could even make his thought a reality.
“I should,” he said softly against my lips.
“What if she doesn’t want to meet you?” I argued, closing my eyes, dropping my forehead to his shoulder.
I felt his hand touch the back of my head, his fingers making small circles on my scalp. “Then I’ll shake her hand and bring you back home. I don’t know if you’ve figured this out yet, or not, Kyla, but I quite like having you here, and you admitted it yourself, you like it too.”
“Home?” I raised my head, his fingers still tangled in my hair.
“Home. Here. With me. Maybe once your mother sees your smile she’ll come around. She’ll see how happy you are with somebody like me—”
“Somebody like you, huh?” I cut him off. “You’re so sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Damn straight. I knew from the minute I saw you in the bar that you needed me.” He smirked, knowing very well that he was using his charm to get my brain to stop spinning. Biting my lip, I couldn’t help but grin when it started working.
“Uh huh, sure. I think your exact words were ‘I’m coming over before my friends do something stupid.’”
“I’m glad I did, aren’t you?”
I glanced at my left hand on his shoulders, the small ring still sitting there, having not once left my finger since he slipped it on after he proposed.
“I’m glad,” I admitted. “I just hope my mom will be at least a little happy.”
“I’ll cook her dinner. She won’t be able to resist my chicken.”
“Oh, Cowboy.” I laughed. “She has a chef.”
“Your mother has a chef ?” Rhett blinked his eyes a few times, arching his back slightly.
“Oh yeah. She and my dad were loaded, and when he passed, she began to indulge in things.” I stepped away from him. “She barely lifts a finger now.’
“Should I bring a tux?”
I let out a cough and turned from him, grabbing my cell phone from the counter. Rhett in a tux? As fabulous a sight as that may be, I closed my eyes just to picture him. Jeans covered in dust, sleeves rolled up to show off his perfect forearms, scruff on his chin, his hat perched just right—a cowboy that didn’t belong in a tux. Handsome. Rugged. Perfect.
“I’d rather you not. I’m attracted to the rugged cowboy I met in the bar. I don’t particularly want to ever see you in a tux.” I smiled.
“I would suggest our wedding day for that but—”
“You wore Wranglers,” I finished his sentence. “I better call my mother. Give her a heads up, talk to her.” I looked at my phone, knowing I wouldn’t find her contact there, but also knowing I knew her number by heart. I took a deep breath and typed the first few numbers, the rest flowing easier as the seven digits morphed onto the screen. “Okay . . . wish me luck.”
“You don’t need it.” Rhett smiled as I walked out onto the patio. “You’re stronger than you realize.”
I gave him a soft grin, not sure it resonated as I intended. The look he gave me in return proved he could sense the anxiety I felt as I lifted the phone and listened to the ringtone.
“Hello?” My mother’s voice hit me like a ton of bricks. I hadn’t heard it in so long. She sounded the same, not a stitch different.
“Hi, Mama.” My voice cracked.
I heard a gasp and then her voice was low. “Kyla?”
Giving Rhett a final soft smile, I stepped out of the house, not sure why I was wanting privacy for this phone call.
Kyla
Well, that could have gone better.
I sat on the porch after hanging up the phone with my mom, impatiently waiting for Grace to text me back. Once my mother heard my voice—once she got over the shock of me calling her—she retreated back to her normal ways. David had, of course, contacted her to tell her where I had been and who I was with. And—as expected—she didn’t believe any of it.
She had assured me she didn’t want to meet Rhett, that she wanted nothing to do with these decisions I was making. She was upset with me. She wasn’t happy I left. Her exact words were, “It’s what we do—we put up with it. We make it work with the men who keep us.”
Keep us.
I didn’t want to be kept. I wanted to be loved.
The conversation didn’t last long, but it still left me in tears on the porch.
What the hell happened to that confident Kyla from earlier today? Why was this happening again?
I held my phone tightly in my hand, hoping that Grace would text back. Or call. It would be better if she called.
I sniffed, running the back of my hand on my cheek, wiping away my tears and taking mascara with it.
Maybe it was best she wasn’t answering me.
Dropping my phone next to me I leaned on my elbows, shoving my face in my palms.
“I take it”—I heard from behind me, forcing me to look up, dropping my hands from my face—“she doesn’t want to meet me?”
I spun around, finding Rhett leaning in the doorway, his legs crossed at his ankles, with his arms folded over his chest.
“I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea. I knew she would react that way.” I sniffed, turning away from him so he didn’t have to see how ridiculous I looked.
“There was hope she wouldn’t.” Rhett sighed, moving so he was sitting down next to me, his arm sliding around my waist, gently pulling me into him. I welcomed his warmth. Closing my eyes, I leaned into him.
“She told me I was being childish, that I was being selfish and not thinking of what this marriage . . . ” I said the word the exact same way my mother did. Snarky. Rude. With a hint of disgust in her voice. “. . . would do to those around me. Obviously thinking of her and David. That’s all she ever really thinks about,” I muttered the last part, knowing it was all too true, but hoping he didn’t hear it enough to comment on it. I still hated that I was dragging him into the mess that was my life. He didn’t need this.
But, I felt like I needed him. What he said earlier was right. It may have been a way for him to get me to calm down in the moment, but there was truth behind those words.
Somebody like him.
He sighed, and pressed his fingers into my shoulder. “If what you told me about your mother is accurate, she’s more controlling than David.”
I nodded. “She can be, but it’s not her fault. My dad was that way. She was married to a David.” Slowly I turned to him, using the back of my hand to rub my eyes once more. “Not a Rhett.”
He chuckled, his forehead pressing against mine. “Ah, well not everyone is going to be as lucky as you are.”
I knew he was trying to defuse the situation, trying to make me smile—to break the tears. Just knowing this man was next to me made the phone call with my mother less daunting. Yet again I found myself feeling calmer in his presence, just knowing he was there if I needed him. I had never ever felt this way, was never given a chance to.
I leaned my head on his shoulder, sniffing softly as I felt his fingers move on my shoulder, pressing in and out, acting as a grounding force. Just sitting with him made me forget about wanting a text back from Grace. Even when my phone dinged with her response, I just kept my head on his shoulder, relaxing in the quiet he brought with him.