Chapter 42
forty-two
Tarr rounded the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate, still whistling softly. “Last load, buddy,” he said to Wiggins, who’d followed him out of the cab. If only the dog could help carry in some boxes.
He grinned as he pulled a couple of bins toward him, then groaned under the weight of them as he settled them in his arms and started toward his new house.
He’d been delayed in moving in for an additional couple of weeks, but he’d moved his RV to the cement pad that ran along the side of his house and into the backyard, where he still needed grass and a fence.
“And once I get that fence in, bud, I’m going to get you a doggy friend to play with.” He grinned at Wiggins, who totally understood what Tarr was saying.
He labored up the seven steps to his front porch, which he’d stained himself, and through the open front door.
His air conditioner pumped against the rising heat of the May morning, with June only a week away.
Tarr loved summer in the Rocky Mountains, and he loved that he could stand on his back deck and see those peaks against a sunset every single evening.
Right now, the house felt like a bunch of scattered pieces that needed to be gone through, sorted, and put together. He’d pulled everything out of storage, packed up his belongings in the RV, and had purchased plenty of new items for his new home too.
“Incoming,” he said, and Briar looked up from the box she was currently elbow-deep into.
“There’s room on the table,” she said quickly, and Tarr quick-stepped past the end of the couch and into the dining area at the back of the house. He slid the boxes onto the surface, instant relief rushing through his shoulders and back.
“Wow, that was too heavy for me.”
“Someone’s gone soft since his rodeo days.”
Tarr found her smiling at him, and she radiated so—much—life. She lifted her hands out of the box, a pair of crystal clear glasses in her possession. “I’ve almost got your new dishes put away,” she said. “Do you want a tour of your own house?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He joined her on the other side of the island, happy to listen to the sound of her voice as she detailed where she put his bowls, plates, and plastic containers for leftovers.
She had a reason for all of her placements, but Tarr didn’t much care.
He simply loved being with Briar, and talking to Briar, and inhaling the peachy floral scent of Briar.
She’d started counseling a little over a week ago, and she went to town three times a week to talk to a therapist. Tarr still recognized her as the blue-eyed beauty who’d snapped at him with all the strength of a crocodile, but she’d come even more alive since starting her sessions.
He hadn’t asked her what she spoke with her counselor about, choosing instead to let her lead those conversations. She’d told him about the first session, detailing how much she liked the office and the staff, and that the doctor had made her feel like she could say anything and not be judged.
“We started at the beginning,” she said, and she hadn’t said much else after that.
Tarr himself was still learning bits and pieces about Briar and her past, though he supposed the same could be said for anyone he knew.
Heck, sometimes he thought he knew himself better than he did, and something would come up and he’d have to evaluate what he wanted to do, the person he wanted to be known for, and how to proceed.
Tucker had signed two new cowboys from his open house event, one of them the reigning champion in calf roping.
“I need you to work with him, Tarr,” Tucker had told him. “You’ll get seventy percent of his fee, but dude, you’re better than me with a rope—heck, you’re better than him, after being gone from the circuit for a couple of years.”
Tarr could still see the pleading in Tucker’s eyes.
“He elevates our whole facility,” Tuck said. “And he signed, because you’re here.”
“Fine,” Tarr had said. “But Tucker, I’m retired.”
“Sure, you are,” Tuck had said easily. “You’re not riding the rodeo. You won’t have to go to rodeos.”
“Really? As his roping coach, I won’t be required to travel?” Tarr did not believe his best friend for a moment, and he met Briar’s eyes as she looked up at him from a drawer in his cabinetry.
“So, what do you think?”
“I think it’s all amazing,” he said, wrapping one arm around her waist.
“I think you’re distracted.” She gestured with one open palm toward his kitchen. “Where are your plastic zipper bags?”
Tarr looked blankly down his pale blue cabinetry—which he’d painted himself, thank you very much. “Um, I’m sure they’re in a drawer.”
Briar scoffed. “I literally showed them to you fifteen seconds ago.” She toed the drawer in front of them. “They’re right there, and I asked if they’d be too low.”
“They’re great there,” he said.
“What were you thinking about?” she asked.
“Tucker and Stetson,” he said. “I need you to be really firm with me, sweetheart. I don’t want to travel the circuit.”
“No traveling the circuit,” she said. “Got it.”
“Like, throw a fit. Threaten to quit at the farm. Tie me to my bed frame. Anything. I do not want to travel with Stetson. Tuck can advise him while they’re on the road. I can watch film and give advice over the phone.”
Briar giggled. “I’m not going to do any of the above.” She raised her eyebrows at him and turned back to the now-empty box that held the glassware. “Tie you to the bed frame. Do you hear yourself?”
He tipped his head back and laughed too. “Maybe I’ll throw a fit and threaten to quit.”
“I’d like to see you do that.” She grinned at him and broke down the box with her bare hands. “Now, what else have you got for me to do? I promised Bobbie Jo I’d go look at some new lambs with her this afternoon.”
“You’re going to go look at lambs?” He surveyed the wreckage that was his house, with boxes and bins everywhere. “I’m in a crisis here, honey.”
She took a step back and cocked her hip. “Throw a fit about me leaving, then. Let me see what that looks like from you, and if it’s good enough, I’ll stay.”
“Good enough?”
“You’ll need practice if you think you can throw a fit about traveling with Stetson in a convincing manner.” Her eyes glittered like sapphires, and Tarr counted her as his single greatest blessing.
“I’m the luckiest man in the world, you know that?”
“Is this part of your fit?”
He smiled and shook his head. “You’re my favorite person ever.”
“Stop it.”
“I won’t,” he said, taking a step closer.
“When I wake up, my first thought is of you, and I love it. If I catch a glimpse of your blonde hair shining in the morning sun out in the Goatel, my whole day is made. When you let me stop by your office with lunch, and then we take an extended lunch hour, it gives me enough oomph to get through the afternoon.”
“I’ll show you some oomph,” Briar said dryly.
He took her into his arms. “I love you, my thorny Briar.” Tarr leaned closer and breathed in the scent of her skin and hair and neck. “Tell me your truth for today.”
With the two of them swaying slightly, Briar wrapped her arms around his back too, and Tarr loved the way she melted into his chest, into his whole soul.
“My truth for today is that I like putting together someone else’s house.”
“I really appreciate you coming to help,” he said.
“You’re easy on the eyes,” she said, and Tarr chuckled.
He still had plenty more to get out of the back of his truck from his latest trip to the storage unit, and he reluctantly stepped back. “Well, the storage unit is empty, but I still have a handful of boxes in Tuck’s garage.” He rotated his shoulder. “So I better get back to work.”
“Before you go,” Briar said, and she picked up another box from the floor. It held new silverware, and was the last thing she’d unpack before the kitchen would be complete. She picked up a pair of scissors and knifed right into the box with them.
“I love your enthusiasm for this new house,” she said, her eyes only flicking to him for a moment. Tarr leaned against the counter and tucked his hands into his pockets, enjoying this part of the day where Briar told him the things she liked about him.
No, the things she loved about him.
He’d told her she didn’t need to do that, but her therapist had thought it a great idea too, and Briar had committed to telling him a few things—no set number—each day until she ran out of things to say.
“I love your beard right now, all trimmed up and nice.” A smile came to her face as she lifted out a stack of butter knives. “I love the way you smell after you shower, and I love it when you smile at me like you’re happy to see me.”
“I’m always happy to see you, sweetheart.”
Briar looked fully at him then, and he gave her that smile she liked.
She returned it and nodded. “I love helping you put this part of your life together, and I love that you’ve asked me to help you with something in the future that you know is going to be difficult for you.
” She drew a deep breath and abandoned the silverware to face him fully.
“I’m wondering if I can ask you for the same favor.”
“Go for it,” he said, his pulse suddenly skipping around in a nervous jump-hop-leap pattern that made no sense.
“I know it might not make sense to you, but I’m still a little scared of…us.” She gestured toward him like he was the problem, but Tarr knew her well enough now to know she didn’t mean it badly. “Namely—I need to be specific.”
She took another breath. “Namely, I’m scared of the proposal.” She nodded and rolled her eyes. “That sounds even more ridiculous when I say it out loud, but it’s the truth.”
“You’re worried about…me askin’ you to marry me?”
“Yes,” she said.
“We’ve talked about getting married a bunch of times now.”