Chapter 9 #3
I don’t get very far before I hear footsteps approaching. I swallow a quick burst of fear and turn to face the sound, only to find a familiar cowboy dressed in black, looking like he’s headed home from a funeral instead of a ranch party.
“You know,” I say with a small sigh of relief, “some people would consider this stalking.”
He huffs a laugh, catching up to me. A shiver breaks out across my arm as the soft fabric of his shirt bushes against me. I could blame it on the warm midnight breeze but I’m too tired to lie to myself. Miles Autry has an effect on me.
“Some people would consider it more dangerous to walk out into a field in the middle of the night alone.” His voice is low and rough, a fog of sleep just sneaking in.
“Yeah well, some people don’t know how to live a little,” I joke, bumping my elbow into his arm.
“What are you doing out here, Mac? Where’s that tiny car you drive? Did it finally break down?”
“The car is back at my cabin, since I walked here,” I say. We are walking at the same pace now, in sync. Far enough away from the party that I can only hear a faint whisper of the music. It’s so dark I can barely make out the annoyance on Miles’s face.
“You walked here? It’s at least three miles to the guest cabin, why the hell would you walk?” His voice raises a bit, cutting through the quiet of the night.
“It’s exactly two miles, and I wanted to walk. I like long walks. I walk all over at home. It’s fun,” I explain. “Although ‘fun’ seems to be a foreign concept to you these days, so I understand the confusion.”
“That’s too long to walk,” he says, ignoring my sarcasm. “What if you were murdered out here? There’s no one to hear anything. What if you were bit by a snake?”
“Aw, Autry, are you worried about me?” I say, voice dripping with fake flattery. I bat my eyelashes a bit at him. He turns away, clearing his throat.
“I don’t want to have to clean up a dead body on my ranch because you decided to walk two miles at one in the morning,” He grumbles.
“If you think I can’t walk around here at night when no one is around, maybe your ranch isn’t safe enough. Sounds like a you-problem, if you ask me.”
He sighs, mumbling something I can’t hear. I make out the words woman and death of me. I can’t help but chuckle. “If you insist on walking, I’ll walk with you. I could use one anyway.”
“Not having fun at your own party?” I ask, kicking a rock in front of me as I walk.
“It’s not my party. Everyone just shows up here every year, whether I like it or not.” I can practically hear his frown. “It’s just a tradition that no one ever lets go of. I’m the unlucky one that gets to set it up and be in charge of it.”
“But didn’t you ever have fun at a ranch party? I used to love them when I was younger. Everyone is happy, having a good time, getting drunk off their asses and throwing up into the weeds. It’s great.”
He laughs at my joke, which I think might just be a first since I arrived. It reminds me of that night four years ago when he laughed with me for hours.
“Branding Night just doesn’t appeal to me these days,” he says.
“Is it because it doesn’t start until after your bedtime?”
“Oh fuck off, Mac,” Miles chuckles. “Part of it is because it seems loud and unnecessary. We just did all the work, the last thing I want to do is more work supervising a bunch of rowdy cowboys. I’d much rather hang up my hat, head home and sleep for a few days after branding.
And the other part is I haven’t fit in with this crowd the past few years, and if that’s because I’m old and boring, so be it.
” I can tell he’s trying to pass it off as a joke, but he sounds a little too earnest for it to work on me.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” I say with a shrug. “I prefer to cuddle up with a good book after nine o’clock most nights anyway. But it’s good of you to set all that up for them.” I nod towards the flicker of a bonfire, slowly fading into the night behind us. “You’re a good boss.”
“Hang on, can you say that one more time? I’ve got to find my tape recorder.”
“Don’t push it.” I shoot him a warning look in the starlight. “Only someone of your age would own a tape recorder,” I mumble.
We walk in silence for a little while, but it’s not an awkward silence. I can tell that Miles isn’t the type of person that needs to fill every space with words, and I appreciate that. Sometimes it’s nice to have company but still be able to think.
“How old are you?” I blurt out.
“What kind of question is that?”
“You clearly know how old I am, since we met on my birthday. It’s not that weird for me to want to know how old you are.
I know you’re older than twenty-five and younger than fifty, but that’s about it,” I say.
I have always wondered. I never asked him that night.
I always just assumed he was a couple years older than me.
Miles gives me a pointed look. “You think I could be forty-nine years old?”
I shrug, looking ahead at the dirt road. “You have the personality of a disgruntled sixty-year-old. You’re not old because of whatever age you are, you’re old because you act like it.”
“If you must know, I turn thirty-two in September,” he murmurs.
Okay, so more than just a couple of years older than me.
“Well then, happy early birthday, Autry,” I say. “Speaking of your bedtime, I thought you never stay at a party past eleven?”
Miles chuckles. “I had a reason to tonight, or I would have been home hours ago.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Just wanted to make sure you made it back safe.”
Oh. “Oh. That’s… considerate.”
Miles nods in the dark cover of night as my heart beats a little faster.
As we get closer to the guest cabin, I can feel a change in the energy between us. The air is buzzing. Questions pop up in my mind. Is he going to walk me to my door? Does he want to stay and talk? Why would he want to walk me back, knowing this might have an awkward ending?
Why am I thinking all of these things about him in the first place?
My thoughts are interrupted by Miles’s low voice. “Did you really not know this ranch was owned by Autry’s?”
“Of course not. Do you think I faked not knowing you worked here? That’s a little insane, even for me,” I say, a bit annoyed. Seems to be a regular feeling around Miles.
“I was just wondering, is all. We have a website with all of our names and photos. I figured you had to have seen it.”
“No, Miles, I didn’t look at your website,” I sigh.
I’m picking my battles wisely with this man, and this is not one of them.
“If I knew this was your family’s ranch…
well I don’t know what I would have done.
But I probably would have been a lot more prepared to see you than I was.
Don’t worry, I’m not some creepy stalker going after a one night stand from years ago. I just want to do my job, and move on.”
I turn to look at him, and catch a flicker of a softer emotion on his face in the moonlight. It’s gone before I can determine what it was, replaced by his usual scowl.
“That’s not what I meant,” he argues.
“Well what did you mean then?” I demand.
“Nothing.”
“Okay, well, if you don’t mind, I’m going to excuse myself from your lovely interrogation and head inside. It’s been a long week and I need some sleep,” I say, pulling my curls up into a ponytail.
Miles tracks the movement of my hands as I tie the scrunchie around my hair. He seems to have trouble swallowing.
Eventually, he nods and shuffles away, leaving me at my doorstep without so much as a goodbye.
About thirty seconds later, his boots stop walking as I’m unlocking the door.
When I turn back, he’s already looking at me with that quiet intensity I’ve come to know.
The air feels a whole lot thinner in the dark night.
“You called me Miles,” he says, breaking the silence.
“So? Isn’t that your name?” I ask.
“I liked it.”