Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Andi
Zane was acting…weird.
I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but things were definitely off.
In the days after moving into the cottage—after getting my heart broken by a bunch of stupid kids who’d, unintentionally but no less irresponsibly, messed up my dad’s car—I felt like I barely saw him.
He’d come back that afternoon with my borrowed truck, kissed me reverently, and then said something about needing to help out at a few other places throughout the town.
My heart sank when he’d said it, but him going where he was needed was of my own doing.
And I couldn’t fault him for being a good guy.
For being kind and caring and willing to sacrifice his own time and energy helping others.
It was one of the things I loved most about him.
Needless to say, we didn’t break in my new bed that night.
Or the next night.
Or the night after that.
Or the night…you get the point.
Call it dramatic if you want, but when a week passed and rolled into the next, I started to wonder if the side of the bed I’d reserved for Zane had been officially claimed by Cluck Norris instead.
“Am I going to have to kick his ass?” Norah asked as her truck rumbled up the quarter mile drive that led to the ranch.
“No.” I laughed around the Zane-sized hole in my chest as I worked on weaving the ends of my hair together and securing the braid with an elastic tie. “That won’t be necessary, but if it was, I think you did a pretty good job of teaching me how to do it myself.”
“Damn straight,” she said and held out her fist over the console. “Make it count.”
“Don’t stop until he does,” I finished and bumped my fist against hers as the sun flirted with the horizon, throwing shades of violet and rose across everything its light touched as the ranch unfolded in front of us.
I’d witnessed this view countless times since landing in Tarnation, but it never ceased to take my breath away.
“It is…weird though, how he’s not been around.
Right? Like I’m not being crazy and just making this up and being all…
” I made a motion with my hands, “...clingy.”
Norah let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re not crazy, and you're not clingy. Ranchers don’t have set hours and no two days are the same.” She shrugged a shoulder and made a dismissive face as she parked near the house. “The guys are just extra busy right now.”
“Extra busy doing what?” I asked, hating the way my voice pitched as I slid my palm between my lap and the potholder protecting my thighs from the warm pie dish.
I reached for the door handle. “Everyone keeps telling me ‘don’t worry, he’s just busy,’ but no one bothers to share what’s keeping him busy. ”
“Okay, now you sound clingy.” Norah’s lips curved in an amused way as she shot me a look and stepped out of her truck, shutting the door behind her.
I followed, balancing the pie on my palm and letting the scent of peaches and bourbon transport me back to a different night where my cowboy was definitely present.
My bottom lip went between my teeth as the memory flashed across my mind, and I swallowed against the ache that had suddenly found its way into my throat.
“They’re doing…things. Man things. Ranch things,” Norah said. We walked up the steps and crossed the porch. She held the door open and gave me another amused smirk. “Things us women folk aren’t meant to know of,” she added, laughing at her own out-of-character joke.
I narrowed my eyes, suspicion prickling under my skin. “Now you’re being weird.”
Norah’s laughter trailed behind me as I stepped into Lindy’s kitchen and felt my entire body just…
sigh. I swear, if comfort had a scent, it was definitely this.
Chicken and dumplings (the flat kind, not the drop), green beans, buttermilk biscuits, a corn casserole, and sweet potatoes.
It was almost enough to distract me from all the weirdness going on lately. Almost.
Lindy’s Sunday dinners had quickly become one of my favorite things about Tarnation and the McKade family.
It always seemed like there was too much of everything but in the best way possible.
No one left hungry. No one left without laughing.
I loved it…and I loved all of them—this family that accepted me with open arms and never once made me feel like an outcast. Well, one of them did, but I think he and I had done a pretty good job of working out our differences.
The long farmhouse table was already set with mismatched plates, cloth napkins, and a pitcher of sweet tea sweating into a trivet. The only things (or people) missing were Zane, Luke, and…
“You two showed up just in time.” Lindy walked into the kitchen, looking way more put together than she should for someone who’d spent the last couple of hours cooking for her entire family, and returned the cordless phone to its base.
“This smells amazing, Mom,” Norah said, and I agreed as I made eye contact with Lindy and shyly held up my pie.
“I brought dessert,” I said and met her halfway into the room to hand it over.
Lindy took the pie and brought it close to her face, closing her eyes and inhaling slowly. “Mmm. Peach bourbon,” she said, opening her eyes and giving me a warm smile.
“Just like you taught me,” I said, smiling back.
“I knew that would come back to bite me.” Her voice was teasing but no less confusing as she palmed the pie dish and cradled my cheek with her free hand. “Because this smells like a blue ribbon pie.”
Relief washed over me with the compliment, and I let out an embarrassed, breathy laugh.
She shot me a wink before walking the pie over to the stove and resting it on the back burner, letting the lingering heat keep it warm.
“I was hoping the boys would be here by now, but that was them on the phone.” She turned back to us and used a dish towel to wipe at a non-existent mess on the counter.
“Truck broke down out by the cattle crossing.”
“Again?” Norah asked, and something about that hit me like a wave of déjà vu. The sensation was a little…unsettling. “I think it’s time to retire that rig.”
“I don’t disagree,” Lindy said, “but regardless, they need a rescue. Would you two mind swinging out there to pick them up?”
“Ugh, they owe us.” Norah rolled her eyes dramatically as she grabbed her keys, but the tone of her voice didn’t match her visible frustration. It almost sounded like she was…hiding something. Lindy, too, for that matter.
Had I missed something? Why the heck was everyone acting so freaking weird lately?
A twinge of something—unease, anticipation, or maybe both—flared in my chest, but I buried it and followed Norah out the door to go “rescue” the boys.
Apparently, rescuing the boys called for a soundtrack of love songs.
Love songs.
Norah didn’t listen to love songs but—hey—things were already weird enough, so what harm was adding one more weird thing to the list?
My eyes darted to the radio display, watching the timer tick down on the last few remaining seconds of “Thank God” by Kane Brown before it changed to another song—one I’d never heard, but it was beautiful.
A man’s voice poured through the truck speakers—soft, breathy, and slightly raspy—blending with the melody in the most nostalgic and delicate way as he sang about letting go and holding someone up.
I snatched Norah’s phone from the console.
“Hey!” she exclaimed, reaching for it but I plastered myself against the passenger door, blocking her hand with my arm as I thumbed through the rest of the songs on the playlist.
“‘Never Til Now.’ ‘Cowboy Take Me Away.’ ‘I Cross My Heart…’” I tucked the phone to my chest and curled into it, glaring at Norah from over my shoulder. “Norah McKade, are you trying to woo me?”
“Give it back,” she said, laughing around the words as the truck swerved a little.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” I countered. “These lovey dovey tunes are sooo not you.”
“I have a soft side not many people see.” She made another grab for the phone and huffed when I dodged it.
“Oh puh-lease.You’re such a radio hog and refuse to play anything other than classic rock and upbeat nineties country—in the truck, the house, and even when you take over the jukebox at the Spur.”
“Not true,” she shot back.
My eyes widened as a disbelieving laugh blew past my lips. “You literally smacked my hand when I tried to change the station to pop last week.”
“Well, don’t try to change the music now or you’re gonna ruin it,” she said, darting her eyes from the road to my hand curled around her phone.
I’m not sure how, but my eyes widened even more. “Ruin what?” I practically shouted. “What the hell is go—” A flash of gold blinked at us from up ahead. “What’s that?”
It looked like something—definitely not a truck, but smaller—was parked diagonally across the road, and the last of the sun kept catching on the windshield as it sank lower into the horizon, flashing more of that gold that had caught my eye.
My body loosened from the tight curl it’d been in, and the hand holding Norah’s phone slowly dropped to my lap as I leaned forward in my seat—narrowing my eyes as I tried to make out…
Oh my God.
“What is he doing?” I asked breathlessly, barely getting the words past my lips as I stared, unblinking, out the windshield.
The truck slowed to a stop, and I felt Norah’s hand as she gently took her phone from my lap. “Go find out.”
Everything blurred as tears welled up in my eyes and I fumbled around with the door, searching for the handle.
The second my fingers made contact, the door was open and I was out, shutting it behind me as I slowly closed the space between me and a grinning Zane, whose eyes were glued to mine as he leaned against my dad’s Camaro.
My dad’s brand new looking Camaro.