8. Sierra
Sierra
Two weeks had passed in a blur of diner breakfasts, stolen kisses, and motel sheets tangled around our legs. But somehow I was no closer to knowing what would happen when the rodeo left town.
And my time was running out.
I lifted my camera and forced myself to focus on the rider exploding out of the chute.
Click.
Dust kicked up under the bull’s hooves, and the crowd roared. In the background of my shot, a kid shrieked with laughter, his face sticky with cotton candy. The whole rodeo felt sunbaked and loud, alive around me.
It was one of those perfect days where I loved my job.
But still, my thoughts kept drifting back to Carl.
I’d caught glimpses of him all day long. Leaning against a fence rail with that easy smile on his face. Laughing with Whitt near the announcer’s stand. Tipping his hat at an older woman, who swatted his arm like he’d said something outrageous.
Everyone knew him and everyone liked him.
Of course they did.
Carl had the kind of charm that made a woman feel singled out, even when she was standing in a crowd. I knew that now better than anyone.
I also knew the heat of his mouth. The weight of his hands. The way his voice went rough when he said my name.
My chest tightened as I took another shot.
The last two weeks had felt real.
More than real.
But time had a cruel way of shining a light on things a woman maybe should have questioned before she let herself tumble headfirst in love with a man.
This was the last weekend of the Red Oak Mountain Rodeo. Half the route regulars had packed up and moved on to the next site already.
Normally, I would have, too. But I was trying to squeeze out every last moment with this man.
He hadn’t asked me to stay.
Of course, I hadn’t asked to stay either.
But that was only due to fear.
What if this was just one wild rodeo ride for him?
A passing love affair.
Hard. Dirty. And full of busted hearts by the end.
The thought slid under my ribs, sharp enough to steal my breath.
I lowered the camera.
Across the arena, Carl glanced my way as if he’d felt the change in me. Like there was a string pulled tight between us, and just my smallest flinch had tugged at him from clear across the rodeo.
His smile faded, his face turning serious.
For one foolish second, I wanted to walk straight to him. Wanted to ask if he meant all those things his hands had said. If he was something I got to keep, or just something beautiful I’d have to remember for the rest of my days.
A rider came barreling past, and I lifted my camera again… because this was my job.
But my hands trembled, and I missed the shot.
“Damn it.”
I’d done a suck job at this rodeo and I knew my commissions would be lower.
But I couldn’t worry about that right now.
Not when the biggest question of my life was rolling around in my thoughts.
Would I stay for this man? I already knew I would… if only he’d ask.
But this was our last night together. And if he didn’t say something soon, I’d be driving out of his life. My heart cracked in two as I missed another shot, my finger clicking a second too late.
So this is where he works.
I sat in the passenger seat, my stomach tying itself into a series of knots.
This was Carl’s world. Not the rodeo, where he could flirt with me against a fence rail and make me forget I was supposed to be working. Not my motel room, where everything felt private and temporary and too easy to pretend.
The logging camp was real.
And tonight, I was about to find out if I belonged inside it.
The rodeo was officially packed up. This was the last night. The last hurrah. I hadn’t packed my bags yet, but the clock was counting down on our love affair.
Carl came around the truck and opened my door. I stepped down, the heavy crunch of gravel under my boots loud in the mountain quiet.
Would I feel like an outsider? It was my first time at the logging camp, and I couldn’t stop wondering if he’d be different here. If I’d be different here. If, surrounded by his friends and his real life, I’d start feeling less like his girl and more like a woman passing through.
Carl laced his fingers firmly through mine, his large, calloused hand anchoring me as we walked toward the crew. “You’re going to love them. I mean, you’ve met most of them already at the rodeo. Hey Brent! Hey Claire!”
“Hey guys,” they both waved back. Claire, with her patented smile on her lips, and Brent, with that ragged frown of his.
A thick plume of smoke from the fire pit drifted toward us, carrying the scent of burning oak. The entire camp was gathered around the flames, laughing and talking. Conversations naturally paused as we approached.
“Hey everyone,” Carl’s deep voice rumbled, carrying a quiet, unmistakable pride that made my chest ache. “For those who haven’t met her yet, this is my gal, Sierra.”
Gal. My heart did a stupid, happy little flip.
He introduced the crowd. There were so many names I couldn’t keep them straight.
Paul leaned forward on his log, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Well, it’s about damn time you brought her home, Carl. We were starting to think you’d made her up.”
Mina smiled warmly from her spot near a battered red cooler. “Welcome to the camp, Sierra. Ignore the boys, they’re mostly civilized if you keep them fed.”
I laughed. “Nice to finally meet you all.”
My nerves settled in place, calming down as I settled onto a log bench with Carl.
After a few minutes of chatting, he got up to grab us a couple of beers from the cooler. I crossed my legs and watched him move through the crowd. He was still the funny, easygoing man I’d met at the fairgrounds, but seeing him in his element shifted the picture completely.
He fit here. They loved him, and they relied on him. It was obvious to me.
I pulled my camera up, the familiar weight of the strap around my neck. I couldn’t help myself. I caught Brent scowling at the fire, only to watch his entire face soften the second Claire handed him a drink.
Click.
I shifted the lens to Carl. He was leaning casually against the tailgate of a truck, laughing at something Whitt said, with the rugged Ozark mountains rising up behind his broad shoulders.
Click.
Looking through the viewfinder, I realized I’d put my camera down for life if it meant I got to stay with him.
I didn’t want to leave this place. Or this man.
I had spent more than ten years photographing cowboys who were always looking for the next town… or the next thrill.
But Carl wasn’t like that. He was grounded and settled. I wanted this messy, loud, beautiful life with him. The only question was if he wanted me too.
Carl caught me staring and sauntered over.
“The camp too much for you?” he asked quietly, brushing a thumb over my shoulder as he slipped a kiss onto my cheek.
“No,” I told him, putting the camera on my lap.
Then my fingers tangled in the soft cotton of his flannel shirt, pulling him in for a kiss.
“The opposite. I actually really like it here, Carl. I like the way everyone looks out for each other. It feels real. Like a weird, slightly dysfunctional family.”
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s us. We’re a hot mess, hon.”
“Imperfectly perfect,” I shot back.
Carl thought about it for a second, then gave me a slow nod. “I like that. Yeah.” Then he got a devious sparkle in his eye. “Come with me. I want to show you the cookhouse.”
A minute later, we were inside.
Carl grabbed a large pan off the metal prep counter and handed me a fork. We stood hip-to-hip in the quiet kitchen, eating blackberry crumble straight out of the tin. It was tart and perfect, bursting with flavor.
“So,” Carl said casually, picking a rogue crumb out of his beard. “My Uncle Dalton mentioned today that he’s still got an open spot at the farm.”
My fork paused halfway to my mouth. “What kind of spot?”
“He needs a farmhand. Someone to help with the dairy cows,” Carl said, looking down at the pan instead of at me. “I told him I knew someone who likes cows an awful lot. Figured I’d see if you might be interested.”
My heart started hammering a hopeful little beat against my chest.
“Carl,” I said gently, setting my fork down on the counter. “Are you asking me to stay?”
He lifted his eyes, and the raw vulnerability in them almost knocked the breath right out of my lungs.
Quietly he drawled, “I’d be over the moon if you stayed, Sierra. Honestly. But I know you’re a traveling gal. So I understand if it doesn’t fit with your plans.”
I swallowed hard, my hands trembling slightly. “I’ve been on the road for a long time.”
“I know,” he rumbled, stepping closer. “And I know I’m throwing a whole lot at you right now. But there’s something I haven’t told you.”
Staring up at him, my stomach dropped to the ground. Was this the moment when my perfect man showed me the catch? Every man had one. An ex he was still in love with. Some kids he forgot to mention. Or maybe even a wife.
But… there was no catch.
He started slow, the words creeping out of him as if it was hard to get them out.
“Uncle Dalton doesn’t have any kids. And, well, he and my aunt Dahlia practically raised me.
So I’m kind of like his kid. That dairy farm…
I’m going to inherit it someday. He’d love to have me working it with him right now, to learn the business side, but I love lumberjacking too much to quit the woods just yet. ”
He reached out, his rough hands resting gently on my hips. “But I’d quit for you. If I had to.”
I blinked. Then blinked again.
“There’s an unused cottage out back behind the main house, Sierra. It’s a nice little spot. Good roof, decent porch. It’s plenty big enough for a new farmhand.” He paused, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin at my waist. “And her boyfriend, too. Maybe even a dog, if you wanted one.”
I let out a shaky gasp. A cottage. A boyfriend. A dog. He was laying out an entire future for me. He wasn’t asking for a few more weeks. He was asking for all of it.
Then he sealed the deal. “That boyfriend could maybe turn into your husband someday, if you decide you want to stop renting him and buy the package outright.”
“What are you saying, Carl?”
“I’m just letting you know what’s possible,” he murmured, stepping right into my space. “If you’re truly ready to leave the rodeo circuit.”
“Do you really see a future with me?” I whispered, my voice threatening to crack under the weight of it all. “It’s only been two weeks.”
“Sierra,” he said, his voice dropping into a deep, serious tone that melted my heart. “I’d drop to one knee right now if I thought it wouldn’t scare you off.”
The last ounce of fear evaporated from my chest.
“You don’t need to drop to one knee,” I told him, throwing my arms around his thick neck and pulling him down to me. “I’m staying.”
Carl let out a heavy, shaking breath and buried his face in my neck. He wrapped his massive arms around me and held me so tight that my ribs ached. I held him right back, burying my nose in his shoulder.
I was so excited that I was trembling. It felt like a dream.
“But don’t you dare stop lumberjacking unless it’s what you really want. I’ll go talk to your uncle and see if he and I might make something work with that position. And I’ll probably still want to do some rodeos every now and then, which will mean a little traveling. Will you be okay with that?”
“Yes, ma’am. All I want is for you to be with me. Even if you end up traveling half the year. We’ll make it work however you want, hon.”
I squealed with delight, then kissed him. A deep, full-body kiss that involved most of our clothes coming off.
We made love right there and then after he locked the cookhouse doors so no one could barge in. It was fast, and a little frantic, and totally full of love.
When we finally walked back out to the fire pit, breathless and disheveled, Carl didn’t let go of my hand. The warmth of his grip was a permanent, steady anchor grounding me to this place.
He stopped at the edge of the firelight. “Hey! Shut up a minute, all of you.”
The crew went dead quiet, turning to look at us.
Carl grinned with the biggest smile I’d ever seen on his face. Then he announced, “she said yes. She’s staying.”
The camp erupted. Men were hollering, whistling, and raising their bottles in the air.
Before I could even process it all, Mina and Claire were out of their seats, rushing over and throwing their arms around me in a crushing hug.
“Welcome to the family, Sierra,” Claire said with a laugh, her eyes shining brightly.
“Thank you,” I managed to say, overwhelmed by the sheer exuberance of their acceptance. They didn’t even know me that well yet, but because Carl loved me, I was already one of them.
This was the kind of place to call home.
Shane grabbed his acoustic guitar, strumming a loud, upbeat chord. Penelope laughed in delight as he started singing a quiet, off-key song about a lumberjack finding his true love at the rodeo. The rest of the women joined in on the chorus, shaking their butts to the beat.
I leaned back against Carl’s solid chest and laughed, watching them. He wrapped his arms securely around my waist, resting his chin on top of my messy curls.
The sharp, clean scent of pine filled my lungs as I watched the sparks from the bonfire dance up into the dark sky.
This place was magical, just like my man.
And after years of being a rolling stone, I was amazed to discover that somehow I’d managed to find my way home.