Chapter 15 #2
“What if I’m horrible at fishing?”
“You don’t have to catch anything to fish.” I’d rather have her with me.
“Is your spot top secret?” she asks in a husky voice.
“Not if you keep talking to me like that. I’ll show you where it is and all the things we can do there with the privacy.”
“Sounds like we have another deal.”
Campbell
We went fishing both Saturday and Sunday.
Now it’s Monday morning, and we’re out fishing again.
I have an afternoon date with my mom and Kacey.
Jamison and Iverson returned home yesterday with Tavis, so my parents are keeping Kacey until closer to the wedding to give my sister and Iverson a chance to rest.
I wade out of the water. No wonder the brothers wanted to keep as much of the land around this stretch of the river theirs.
The water swings wide around a curve and bubbles over rocks, making it the perfect fishing spot.
There’s enough shore to pack some chairs and a blanket and have a picnic.
Or maybe a few orgasms before casting a line, as we did on Saturday under the clear blue sky.
Durban exits the river next to me and we pack up our poles and waders. We didn’t have much luck today, but neither of us was trying to catch anything. I like it out here, and I like that he wants to be here with me.
Things feel a lot more serious after the weekend, but tonight will take care of that. I’ll arrive separately to the distillery and pretend to be nothing more than an occasional event planner for the company and Iverson’s sister-in-law.
And after tonight, I’m going deeper into the wedding activities.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks as he gathers our supplies in his arms.
“I’m caught between hoping that Stanford and January smoothed some things over while they were in Banff or that they decided to cut their losses and cancel everything.”
We start hiking toward the pickup. He took an off-road route that didn’t include parking in the lot of the distillery to get here. I wish we could just strut onto Foster House grounds and wave to everyone we know.
There I go again. Unrealistic expectations.
“You’re less worried about your reputation?” He lets me go ahead as the path narrows until we reach the clearing the guys made when the renovations were being done. They didn’t want customers to see them leaving the trees with fishing gear.
“More like I’m tired of being scared of what other people think.
” I’m tired of bearing the responsibility.
Why is it up to me whether or not my uncle signs over his share of the land?
Daddy and Rayburn should just duke it out.
I flash Durban a grin over my shoulder to keep that resentment from showing on my face.
“Though you seem to have accepted me just fine.”
He continues looking right through me. “You’re surrounded by support.”
In a way. It’s one thing to have people around who can doctor me if I fall off a horse. It’s another to be put on one I’ve never ridden before and told to win the barrel race.
If I was bolder, I’d march into the guest lodge and announce that I quit.
I know I have the right to, but I can’t.
I have to finish one job. I have to show my family I can do it.
And maybe I want to prove to Durban that I really am the girl who has her shit together—maybe not two PhDs together, but I can at least finish a job.
After he brings me to his house and I get my stuff and my car, I go to my parents’ place. Mom and Kacey are in the kitchen, making the goodies we’re having with our afternoon lemonade.
Mom grins. “Back from Billings already?”
“With your friiiieeeend?” Kacey says in a singsong voice.
That’s my sister coming out of that little mouth. “Yes. I’m back. Let me get a load of laundry started and I’ll be right out.”
I’m unpacking when my phone goes wild.
Stanford: Where are you?
What now? Instead of replying, I call him.
“What the hell, Campbell?” he answers.
“Excuse me?” I’m off the clock, and I don’t need to take his attitude.
“We’re supposed to have riding lessons.”
“Not today.” I put him on speaker and pull up my calendar. Nothing for today.
“I messaged you.”
He did? I check, and yep, some texts came in midmorning when I was fishing with Durban. “I didn’t have a signal this morning.”
“Where the fuck were you?”
“Excuse me?” I say again.
January’s voice sounds in the background and a horse whinnies in the distance. They must be at the barn. How does his bride feel about him raging to his ex that she stood him up? Except I didn’t.
“Gimme a minute,” he snaps at her. “Campbell, we have three days to get this ride down correctly.”
Normally, I’d get all flustered when Stanford gets bossy like this. He reminds me of Daddy and how I felt like I was always letting him down. “If you’re using two horses, it won’t take long and we have times scheduled on Tuesday and Wednesday.”
Hailstorm would get treats and wouldn’t have to listen to January and Stanford snap at each other. The other trail horse, Clyde, will be good for January.
January’s voice rises in the background, but I can’t make out what she says.
“I said gimme a minute.” He’s speaking through gritted teeth. I don’t have to see him to know.
He’s going to have a runaway bride before he knows it, and as much as I’d love to sit around and laugh at their fate, I have stakes in this wedding too. There’s no way I’m going to let my ex rob me of another five days of sneaking around with Durban.
Oh, and the land deal.
“Stanford, do you mind putting me on speaker?” I can feel his argument coming. He’s wound up and he lashes out like a snapping turtle. “Then you don’t have to explain it again to your bride.”
I purposely use the moniker to remind him that if he’s going to walk down the aisle in front of his family and not look like the loser who cheated on his ex, then he needs someone at the end of the aisle waiting for him.
“Fine. You’re on speaker.” God, he sounds like a spoiled kid.
What was I thinking when I ignored every red flag he waved?
“How about I call Grady and see if he can spare someone to take you two riding? You know Hailstorm. Clyde is his brother. Just as mellow. Just as treat driven. January will enjoy the ride and maybe you two can have some me time before the festivities this week really kick off.”
He huffs but I hear a murmur of approval from my cousin. It’s not just Stanford’s reputation on the line, or mine as a professional. January needs to prove to her family that she’s not impulsive like me.
“If there’s no problem with that, I’ll go ahead and call Grady.
” The foreman is fed up with the bride and groom, and I won’t be there to buffer.
I’ll owe him one. “Once I get the okay, I’ll send you a message.
And if for some reason it doesn’t work out, then might I recommend a romantic walk down to the pond? ”
“Ooh, that sounds nice,” January says. “Let’s do that instead.”
Stanford did that walk with me when I first brought him home.
It’s when he told me he loved me. Now I can see that he was manipulating me because he’d been an ass earlier that day and I’d told him to go back to Washington if he didn’t like my home.
I’d fully planned to break up with him when I returned to Seattle.
I can’t see his face, but the base of his neck is probably pulsing. There’s likely a subtle flare in his nostrils. I smile smugly. He can’t manipulate me when the love of his life is hoping for a romantic walk.
“Go have some one-on-one time,” I say with an exorbitant amount of cheer.
“Thanks, Campbell,” January says a moment before the line disconnects.
Either she hung up on me, or he did, but it doesn’t matter. I was able to avert an argument that could prevent them from getting to the altar, and I thwarted Stanford’s controlling ways. I have five more days with Durban.
I never thought I’d look forward to this week, but here I am.