24. Cami
Cami
If I was a Cowboy by Miranda Lambert
T he barn smells like cedar shavings and leather, but to me it smells like home.
It's quiet out here, the quiet that settles into your bones.
The quiet I used to chase as a kid when everything inside the house felt too loud, too tense.
Now I'm grown, and somehow it still feels the same.
Like this place is the only part of the world that makes sense.
I should be in bed. It's late enough the moon's high and the stars are showing off, but I can't sleep.
So here I am, kneeling in front of the water spigot near the stalls, trying to fix a busted pipe that started leaking.
Like I’ve got something to prove. To whom exactly, I don’t know.
Maybe my mom. The wrench in my hand is too big, or maybe I’m just too angry to make it work right. Either way, I’m losing the fight.
I’m tired of fighting. I don’t mind earning the things that I get.
But fighting for them is exhausting. Like respect.
People like Granger and Jace who don’t respect me, want to hurt me or steal from me.
And they’ve been awfully quiet lately. I wonder what their next move will be, and that’s another fight I’m tired of fighting.
Always being on edge, waiting for the next punch to land.
Then there’s Jack. The one constant through all this who makes me feel safe.
And for that I’m grateful. I’m still worried about the ranch.
I wonder if I’ll ever truly bring my dreams to life here.
But I know that with Jack around, it’s going to somehow be okay.
I’m so confused by everything with him. I love him so much; I want him so badly.
But does he truly want me? And what if we don’t work out?
I’ll have to walk away from the ranch and him.
And the last part I couldn’t handle. I’d walk away from this entire ranch and all my dreams for him.
But I know he’ll never let me do that. He cares about me and my dreams. Something no one has done for me before.
"Come on," I mutter, twisting it the wrong way for the third time. "Rusty, pain-in-the-ass?—"
"You talking to the pipe or yourself?"
I freeze.
Jack leans in the doorway, arms crossed, moonlight catching on the mess of his hair. He looks tired. Soft. Like he was in bed, and I woke him up somehow.
"What are you doing out here?" I gripe, mostly to cover the way my heart just launched into my throat.
"Could ask you the same thing."
"Fixing something,” I mutter.
He steps closer, boots scuffing the dirt floor. "Looks like you could use a hand."
I glare up at him. "I’m fine."
"Uh-huh."
He squats beside me, quiet for a second. Then, without asking, he gently takes the wrench from my hand. Our fingers brush. My breath hitches .
"Jack—"
"Let me help,” he says softly.
He adjusts the wrench, twists it once, twice, and the bolt gives way with a satisfying click.
I stare at him. "Show-off."
He smiles, but it fades when he sees my face. "You okay?"
I look away. "Fine."
"You're not."
"I don’t need you to fix me, too."
He sets the wrench down carefully and leans back on his heels. "What happened?"
He knows. Somehow Jack just always knows. And that’s part of why Jack has always had my heart. Even when he doesn’t deserve it.
"I was just talking to Ollie today about my mom and how she never supports me. It got to me. It’s dumb. I let her get in my head. How she thinks that I’m wasting my time and that this ranch isn’t worth saving. And that I’m not built for this kind of life."
He nods slowly. "I used to believe that about myself. That I wasn’t built for anything good."
I glance at him, surprised. "What do you mean?"
He exhales. "My dad was mean. Mean in ways that stuck to your skin. Anytime he caught me hanging out with you or Ollie, he'd lose it."
My stomach twists and drops. "Lose it how?"
He finally looks at me. And the look in his eyes is something I’ll never forget.
"He’d beat the hell out of me, Wilder. Every time. Didn’t matter if we were just riding horses near your pasture or fixing a fence. If I was near you, I got it twice as bad. You know how it was between my dad and your parents."
I cover my mouth with my hand, horror booming in my chest. "Jack... I didn’t know.
" I reach out and clasp his hand. I want to go back and find that boy who was abused and hug him and hold him. I hate that anything like this happened to Jack. That’s why he left.
He left to save me. To protect me. God, I hate this.
He had to reject me, he didn’t have a choice. My chest feels so heavy.
"I never wanted you to know. But it was worth it."
I drop my hand. "How could it possibly have been worth it?"
He gives me a smile, soft and broken and beautiful. "Because when I was with you, I didn’t feel like trash. Your grandparents... your grandpa taught me things. Told me I was smart. Worth something. Your grandma made me cookies and never looked at me like I didn’t belong."
He stands and pulls me with him onto a bale of hay, and I swing my legs onto his lap, leaning in towards him. He runs his hands up and down my calves as if he’s soothing himself by touching me.
He swallows hard and looks around. "This ranch felt like home when nowhere else did. I miss them. Probably not like you do seeing as they were your family, but... I do. In some ways, they were like family to me, too."
I feel the ache rise in my throat, thick and sharp. “I didn’t realize that meant so much to you. I’m glad you had that. I miss them too. Every day."
He shifts a little closer, voice low. "They believed in you, Cami. And so do I. You can do amazing things with this place."
I blink up at him, heart hammering. "What do you mean?"
He doesn’t hesitate. "You're going to turn it into your B&B. You're going to make this place shine again. And I want to help you however you need my help."
Something twists in my chest, and I wrinkle my brow, confused. "Like business partners?"
His face falls. Just a flicker. But I see it.
"Yeah," he says, voice rough. " Business partners."
And damn it, that hurts more than it should, seeing something like disappointment crossing his face.
He clears his throat. "I'm sorry about your mom. Maybe she'll come around. But if she doesn't, that'll be her loss."
I laugh, watery. "You always say the right thing. It's annoying."
"I could say something dumb to balance it out. Want me to insult you again?"
I snort. "You try it, and I'll dump a bucket of horse shit in your truck."
He grins, and something in me eases.
Enemies. Friends. Something more. Whatever this is, it's feeling like everything.
Why is it that letting Jack in feels like the scariest thing in the world?