Chapter 15
Two weeks pass. It’s officially December in Montana, and I’ve already mastered “The Horse with No Name,” so I’ve been dabbling in other country tunes. The guitar has been a great distraction from my thoughts and the anger in my heart.
Since the Thanksgiving party, Kit’s been avoiding me like the plague. I saw him once a few days ago in the Mess Hall. He walked in, spotted me, and immediately walked out. And it was as obvious as hell as I stood around talking to Blake and Hudson.
Of course, I pretended it didn’t bother me, that I didn’t even notice as I proceeded to flirt with Blake. But I think Blake is catching on with those quizzical eyes of his. Questioning things between us.
I still haven’t gotten the nerve to kiss him.
Besides soft cheek kisses, you’d give a family member.
If he were one of the men I fooled around with on the road, I would’ve done far more lascivious things by now.
A fact that bothers me, but this easy thing between us is the steadiest constant I have.
Facing it meant hurting him, and I can’t.
Surreal evening skies painted with soft blues and pinks surround me as I ride in with Blake, just finishing our long day on the ranch.
My back is sore, and my ass feels bruised, but it’s a good feeling.
Hard work is what made Lone Pine the best ranch in Montana, and doing my part makes me feel like I’m a part of something bigger than myself.
Like I deserve this bit of goodness in my life.
That I’m a part of the legacy I’d read about as a kid.
“What a day,” I exclaim. “I can’t wait to have a hot shower.” And possibly an entire bottle of whiskey, but I deserve it. Damn the consequences.
Blake nods in agreement, but he’s been off today. Quieter than he usually is. I’m about to ask him what’s wrong, but the sight of Kit’s bright blue eyes stops my words, taking me by surprise.
He freezes in his tracks, like a deer in the headlights.
My heart rate accelerates as he stands a few feet in front of me. His scruff is at least an inch longer, and dark circles have formed under his eyes, nearly hidden under his Lone Pine ballcap.
“Cowboy,” I greet him as coldly as I can, the nickname catching unsteadily in my throat.
“Tequila,” he replies, but there’s no emotion on his face. He solemnly nods to Blake and strides away, heading into the main barn.
Anger burns in my heart, frustration pouring out of me before I can stop myself. "Why does he have to hate me so much?”
Working on this ranch used to be a stress reliever. Now it only seems to be a constant reminder of how much my neighbor, boss, and most likely future ranch owner hates me.
Blake hops off his horse, chuckling under his breath. “He doesn’t hate you.”
“He won’t even talk to me anymore.” Not that he ever did, but before, at least, he was somewhat pleasant. Why do I have confused feelings about someone so god-damn frustrating?
Someone who clearly wants nothing to do with me.
“You saw him at the party,” I continue with my rant. “He can’t stand the sight of me.”
Blake points after Kit, disappearing into the barn. “He hates that he has a big ol’ crush on you, but he doesn’t hate you, Sadie.”
“What?” I whirl to him.
Blake just nods, confirming his words.
“Kit has a crush on me?” I repeat. A rush of heat burns in my cheeks. “How do you know? Did he say something?”
He tucks his hands into his pockets. “He watches you when you’re not looking,” Blake admits, and I feel my chest tighten. “He always has.”
My heart swells with emotion.
He always has.
He pauses, taking a long exhale. “A man who does that is not a man who hates you, Sadie.”
Warmth swirls around inside me at his honesty, but I’m still too pissed at Kit to feel anything but frustration towards him. “Then why is he so… ” The words die on my lips as I gesture towards the main barn. There are too many words to describe him to pick just one. “You know?”
“That’s not my story to tell,” he murmurs.
I pause for a moment, remembering the conversation I overheard with Alaska and Kit. “Dakota,” I guess. The ex that must’ve done a number on him.
He adjusts the rim of his black cowboy hat, squeezing his lips together, like he’s preventing himself from speaking. “That’s something you’ll have to ask him.”
I glance at the barn and then back to Blake, tapping my boots in the melting snow. Not sure what to say or do next.
“You should talk to him,” he continues.
My laugh strains my throat. “Yeah, sure. What a great idea,” the sarcasm practically drips from my mouth.
“I’m serious. I know you like him, too,” he admits.
My gaze snaps to his. A wave of guilt rushes through me as red blooms in my cheeks. I bark a laugh to convince him otherwise, but he sees right through it. “I do not like him. He’s an asshole. I hate him.” My body wants to ride him all night long, but my mind loathes his entire personality.
Besides, the fantasy of him is probably better anyway.
“Yeah, maybe…” he smooths down his dark beard. “But despite all that hate, you like him,” a faint smile brushes his lips.
“I do not,” I shake my head.
“It’s okay,” he takes a small step towards me. But none of this is okay. This is everything I’ve been trying to avoid. Pain that I never wanted to cause. “Look, as much fun as I’m having with you, I know the feelings you have for me are… different.”
I try to find the words to say, fiddling with my long braid, but his words are true, and if I try to deny it, I’ll just be lying to him again. And he doesn’t deserve that.
“As great as it would be if you felt the same,” he continues. “I want someone to feel that way about me.” My heart sinks deeper into my chest, burying closer to the guilt that’s been consuming me since we started dating. “You can’t blame a man for trying, though.”
My stomach clenches. “I’m so sorry, Blake.” It would be much easier to like Blake, easy like breathing. To give in to this kind, rugged, and handsome man in front of me, but my foolish eyes can’t stop glancing at the barn.
Like a damn moth to the flame, my heart wants someone else.
“Don’t be," he brushes my arm in reassurance. “We can’t help who we’re attracted to. I’m old enough to understand that. Besides, we’ve had four dates, Sadie. It’s no damage done, honest.” He pauses, glancing at the barn. “You should talk to him.”
What, now? I might as well slap Blake in the face.
“There’s really no reason to,” I say too fast.
“Get a move on… Tequila,” his eyes light up in amusement, mocking me with a cheeky grin. The sick feeling in my stomach starts to ease with his light-hearted humor. “How long has he had that nickname for you?”
“A while.” Because of a night that ended with me trying to take off his pants like the impulsive woman I am. “Anyway, this is all beside the point. He doesn’t want to talk to me.” He seems content pretending I don’t exist, and perhaps that’s for the best.
“I think if you went in there and told him how you felt, it would make his whole damn day,” he encourages with a warm smile.
I laugh sarcastically. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious,” Blake pushes. “What are you afraid of?”
“Well, for one, he could try to fire me again,” I admit.
And this time, he has the power, too.
Blake’s eyes widen. “He tried to fire you?” I hum and nod, not wanting to say why. “Damn,” he shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. An amused smile forms on his face. Surprised that Kit would do such a thing.
“You still think this is a good idea?” I arch a brow.
Blake gives me a gentle push towards the barn. “Go on. I’m sure he won’t bite,” he teases.
But Kit probably would if given the chance. Though I’d like it too much if he did. “I think I’ll pass.” It’s safer this way. Easier and way less complicated.
“I dare you,” Blake challenges.
Damn him. He knows me too well. “Fine,” I roll my eyes, feeling the compulsion of his challenge. “But this is a terrible idea.”
“We’ll see,” Blake smirks.
With a deep sigh, I take off towards the barn.
Making it a few steps before turning back, full of anxiety and guilt.
“I don’t… I don’t want to lose what we have, B.
I can’t. I like it too much.” As selfish as that sounds, Blake has become important to me.
He’s my closest friend on the ranch, and I don’t want to ruin what’s left of us.
Though I feel like I’ve already done that.
“I’m sorry. That probably sounds selfish. ”
He softly smiles, shaking his head. “You’re not going to lose me that easily, Sadie,” he assures. “But I still expect to kick your ass in a few pool games here and there. Now, stop stalling and go give him hell. You know the rules of a dare,” he wiggles a finger at me.
With a smirk on my face and purpose in each step, my boots carry me towards the main barn. It’s time to end this frustrating silence between us. Dream job or not, I’ve waited too long to confront him.
Impulsive. Reckless.
My mind whispers to me, but I ignore it.
Evening light filters through the snow-covered pines, shining warm light on the main barn, like it’s pushing me towards it.
Lights hang near each stall door, and there are a lot of stalls, probably close to thirty, with timber and black steel doors.
Pastel orange and pink colors from the setting sun drift in from the skylights, running the length of the massive barn.
I find him standing in front of a well-organized tack room, holding a clipboard with Wes at his side. My boots click on the polished cement, snagging his attention.
Kit glances at me with an annoyed look, then turns back to his clipboard. “What do you want, Sadie?” He asks like I’m the last person he wants to talk to.
Wes turns to him with a look that says, what the hell?
I take a breath, harnessing my confidence, ignoring the way his gruff demeanor gets under my skin. “I want to talk.”
He makes a noise of disapproval. “I’m busy.” He glances at Blake, standing outside the barn. “I’m sure Blake can help you,” he frowns, looking back to his papers.
Damn, he’s cold. “No, he can’t,” I stamp my heel.