13. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
KAT
I hated it.
Bernie and I hadn’t spoken or seen each other since the rodeo. And I hated how much that bothered me and how empty it made me feel. I’d tried to come up with something to text or call him about that wouldn’t come across as creepy, but nothing. And there was no way I was going to ask Emma for help. She’d already caused issues in my happy, blissful ignorance of his feelings for me. Because now all I’d thought about for a week was Bernie.
Me. He wanted me. In a way that I’d never allowed another man to have me. And my stomach swirled as hot as the sweat dripping down my back. Dust clung to every pore on my skin; the creaking of leather had long turned from a sound of comfort to one of monotony that no longer filled the empty space around me. Even the bellowing of the cattle peeling off into summer grazing pastures did little to drown my thoughts of Bernie.
Why him ?
And was it really that wrong to allow myself to indulge in what he was offering?
Every cell in my body screamed at me to give in, to actually reciprocate his flirting. If I recognized it. But there was a dull thump in the back of my mind reminding me of the issue with my dad.
Everything I’d always done had been for him because I loved him and respected him. Except for one thing—agreeing to be with Wyatt. I’d been unable to swallow that pill.
But knowingly going against his wishes did nothing to curb the anguish twisting in my stomach. Time away in the mountains, tucked away from cell service and more so, Bernie, was going to do me good.
Rounding the bend, shade danced across the trail as the final steer peeled away from the horses, joining the herd. Guiding my own mount toward the familiar and worn path beneath a grove, excitement licked at my toes knowing camp was near.
A break from all of the confusion that swirled within me waited beside a blazing fire and whatever food my mom had prepared for us. A break from battling between what I knew my dad wanted versus what I wanted. And I wasn’t ready to admit out loud that they were two different things.
Pine trees scratched at the crystal blue sky, disrupting the cotton balls wisping in the light breeze. The only relief from the blazing sun came as we passed beneath the branches. Ten minutes later, I draped my sweat-soaked saddle pad and blanket over the top of the saddle and lugged all of my tack over to the waiting horse trailer, my horse safely locked away behind a fence .
The sound of children’s squeals sent birds crashing from the trees. I chuckled to myself, delighted to hear my little brothers so carefree as I slid the saddle onto the saddle rack. Looping the bridle and reins over the hook, I swung the rack back into the tack room of the trailer and turned around.
My dad was chatting with Wyatt and my second oldest brother, Sawyer, off to the side while a few other hands finished untacking their mounts. With a groan, a hand swung the gate closed, locking our horses away, and I exhaled deeply, letting the freedom of nature swallow me whole.
Trudging forward, I used this moment of isolation to disappear back into the pines, following a winding footpath taken every year. My boots crunched over dried needles and grass growing past my ankles. It was at least ten degrees cooler here in the shade, and the sweat that quickly dried upon my skin caused me to shiver.
With every step, the sounds of the hands behind me faded, masked by birds squawking high in the branches and squirrels chattering back and forth. The scent of wide open forest danced across every inch of my skin, splitting the air into one of comfort and solitude.
“Get back here, you hooligans!” A voice sheared through my dazed wandering, and I froze.
The sound of his voice. Something I’d longed to hear for days.
From the right, a white Power Wheel Jeep burst forth from the trees. Bernie, with his knees tucked up to his chest, steered the battery-powered plastic vehicle forward, racing as fast as the little thing could carry a grown-ass man. The battery whirred loudly, whining as it chugged along. Bernie’s face, covered in some camouflage paint, was set with a crooked grin as a few wayward strands of his red hair billowed beneath his backwards baseball cap.
I bit down on my bottom lip, stifling my giggle as he adjusted the pink, bedazzled airsoft rifle in his lap and whipped the steering wheel to the side, zooming around a tree trunk with a whine of the battery. The muscles in his exposed forearm rippled with the movement, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the tattoos inked upon his skin.
“Hey, Kit Kat,” he said, not even glancing my way as he straightened the Jeep back out and bumped over a hole. A faint coat of dust covered the front of his T-shirt, a clear sign he’d been chasing someone. The wheels of the children’s battery-powered vehicle bounced aggressively over rocks, and just as he turned a corner, disappearing into the forest once more, I caught sight of Muffin seated beside him.
Pink Kevlar was strapped around the cat’s chest, matching the goggles covering her eyes.
A maniacal laugh boomed through the dense trees, one only mastered by a man as wild as he was. And then it was as if he was never there. Gone as quickly as he’d arrived.
I remained frozen in place, unable to urge my feet onward as I processed what I’d just seen. The dust swirling in the air slowly settled beneath the streaks of sun piercing through the canopy of leaves above me. Somewhere in the distance, a gentle trickle of a river danced through the air, and once in a while, the bellow of a cow broke the serene atmosphere.
“What the…?” I muttered, staring after where Bernie had disappeared. That was a sight I’d never forget, and one I was glad I’d experienced .
Eventually, as spurs jingled behind me, I managed to drag my feet forward, following the curve of the trail. It emerged into an open space, surrounded by thick pine trees that sheltered much of the campground from the outside world.
Once again, my mouth fell open, but not for the same kind of shock as Bernie’s sudden arrival and departure had caused. Emma and my mother sat around a campfire, the flames licking gently at the wood as smoke curled into the air.
To one side of the campsite, five brown tents were set up to perfection—tents that normally had to be constructed once we arrived with the cattle. The smell of bubbling cowboy stew wafted amongst the smoke coming from the other side of the fire. There, already waiting and set up, were two Camp Chef griddles, set to low, with cast iron pots warming on both.
“Hi, sweetheart,” my mom said as I continued to stare at the perfectly constructed campsite.
“What’s happening?” I asked as the spurs behind me grew nearer.
“Oh, nothing. Other than dinner is ready whenever you want to grab a bowl.” My mom pushed up from her camp chair as Emma rolled her head lazily in my direction and wiggled her brows.
“But normally…” My voice trailed off as I scanned the immaculate campsite. “It’s way too quiet and calm.”
Emma giggled. “We had help.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Also, where’s my little brothers? I heard them laughing at one point. ”
“That Bernie fellow has kept those two entertained for the past hour or so. Man, he’s really handy to have around. He set up all of the tents and griddles, started the fire so Emma and I were even able to cook dinner over the campfire.” My mom tossed a thumb over her shoulder at the blazing embers while she walked toward the cast iron pots. As she lifted the lid to one, steam slipped out of the crack, trailing up to the sky.
And familiar giggles pierced through the encroaching jingle of spurs and casual conversation—laughter from two young boys I’d know anywhere. Behind the tents, another Power Wheel flew out from the trees. Seated next to each other, my two little brothers laughed loudly and zoomed around a stump.
“He’s never gonna get us!” Beau, the youngest, shouted, waving two black airsoft rifles into the air.
Levi whooped and hollered, steering the red Jeep back around another tent and quickly let off the gas. With a jolt, the whine of the battery died and both boys went absolutely silent. Not a sound left their mouths, quieter than I’d ever heard them before in my life.
At eight and ten, quiet wasn’t in their vocabulary. At least I hadn’t thought it was until that very moment.
As still as death, even Mother Nature herself seemed to hold her breath.
My mom froze beside the griddle, ladle in hand. Emma sucked in a deep breath and stared at the trees. The only sound breaking the suspense was the rest of the men emerging from the grove behind me. But, as their eyes rested on the sight, even they seemed to sense the tension as a cord wrapped around their own tongues, stilling their voices .
Pausing beside my shoulder, my father leaned toward me. “What’s going on? Why are Levi and Beau—”
“Shhhh,” Emma hissed from across the campsite.
He raised his brows but smashed his lips together.
A leaf rustled in the wind.
But there was no whine of another battery-powered vehicle.
A bird cawed.
But nothing else.
A squirrel raced across the campsite, disappearing up a tree trunk.
Yet there wasn’t anything else that stirred.
Then, four quick cracks snapped through the air.
“Ow!” Levi shouted, clutching his side.
Beau dove sideways, crashing out of the Power Wheel, with his hand pressed to his chest.
“Who’s ready for round four?” Bernie’s voice slithered through the air, and from around the far side of the very tent my two brothers had stopped beside morphed into existence the man they’d been running from.
He held the pink rifle to his chest, barrel pointed down, as Muffin, seated upon his shoulders, opened her jaw and yawned. The pink of her tongue paled in comparison to the vibrant color of her Kevlar vest and goggles.
My stomach swirled warm, drawn to him. Every cell in my body screamed at me to run over to him, launch myself into his arms, and let loose. Heat rose to my cheeks, flushed hot with desire that was ill-timed but something I did not fight.
“How’d you do that?” Beau asked, pushing himself out of the dirt .
Bernie grinned, the streaks of camo paint on his face an exact mirror for the ones on both of my brothers’ cheeks. “Helps that I have a brother of my own,” he answered, and his gaze slid over to mine.
I let out a shaky breath, ensnared by the sparkling moss of his irises. Tingling beneath every pore of my skin, electricity rippled with a current of magnetism. As still as a lake at midnight, not a wave of anything other than his gaze pulsed around me. Deep within my stomach, flames licked at the edges of my body.
“Who invited the asshole?” Wyatt grumbled, snapping me out of the hold I was locked into. He marched on by with a couple of the other hands as my father rested a palm against my shoulder.
“So, what’s going on with you?” he gently asked.
I glanced his way, catching his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been distant since the rodeo. Even Wyatt’s been giving you space, so what’s going on?”
A heavy sigh left my lips as I turned my gaze to the sky. Bernie. That’s what was going on. “Just a lot on my mind.”
His hand slipped from my shoulder, and he walked around me, facing me directly. “You know I only want what’s best for you, so I really appreciate you taking the time to finally consider Wyatt.”
“Oh, um—”
“I know he seems rough around the edges, but he’s loyal, and he’ll take good care of you,” my father continued, his gaze slipping behind me.
“Loyal?” I questioned, taking the opportunity to scan my surroundings. “What gives you the idea that he’s loyal? ”
There Bernie was, his handsome smile directed at Sawyer, casually chatting with him as the two of them swung Beau back and forth between them by the little man’s hands. For everything that seemed so rough about him, Bernie certainly had a soft side to him. Including how attached Muffin seemed to be with him, still casually lying around his shoulders as he held the rifle in his other hand. A side I’d never seen in Wyatt.
“Wyatt’s been with us, working for me, for nearly four years now,” my dad said, pulling my thoughts and attention back to him.
“So, you think staying with a company or job for a few years shows loyalty? I asked.
My dad sighed. “Baby, I know you aren’t particularly fond of him, but he won’t cheat—”
“Like what happened with Mom?”
“Katalina Fisher,” he sharply said, and I sighed.
“Sorry, Dad. I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly. But that was one man, why do you feel like every man in the military would cheat too?” I asked, locking onto his eyes.
“I just want to make sure you’re taken care of so when I’m no longer around, you’ll be okay.”
“And you believe that is what Wyatt will provide?”
“Yes. Because he’ll provide security, and routine, and…and loyalty.”
“Back to the loyalty thing,” I grumbled. “You realize that if he hadn’t cheated on Mom, I wouldn’t be here. Nobody but Colton would be. You wouldn’t be with Mom either, ’cause she’d still be with that asshole.”
“That doesn’t excuse his behavior.”
“But it shouldn’t condemn everyone else’s too, Dad. ”
His eyes narrowed as he tipped his head. “Why are you suddenly so defensive about it? We butt heads all the time because of how stubborn you are, but you’ve never been this…this snippy with me.”
“Stubborn like you?” I questioned, skirting around the answer with a lighthearted jab.
He chuckled, lifting his cowboy hat, and ran his fingers through his hair that was graying at the tips. “Yes, just like me.”
I heard my father’s concern, something that had been voiced to me since I was old enough to understand what had happened to my mom. I was aware of the stigma, but I also knew that there was never a guarantee when it came to love, to any relationship really. And I more than anything wanted something real and raw.
“People grow to love someone all the time,” my father continued.
But there was no chance to respond.
“Hey, you two!” My mom’s voice rose above our solitary conversation. “Come get dinner!”
A heavy sigh and tender smile lifted on my dad’s face. “Let’s go,” he said, nodded, and winked, then took off toward my mom.