Chapter 27
SHELBY
After sending my photos to Boise a few days later, I opened an email from one of the managers of Wild Horizon, stating that they’d received the images and would be in touch soon for an interview.
Earlier this summer, I would have pinched myself, knowing that I was in the running for a photography position at a magazine.
But now, my emotions were being completely overshadowed by something else.
Or someone else.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was in limbo, even though on paper it shouldn’t have felt like that.
I knew where I was headed. I had come to the ranch to do a job, and I had done it.
I’d even uploaded the rest of my pictures to the dude ranch website last night.
It had been a satisfying project, changing out the impersonal stock photos that had lined the website when I first arrived to pictures full of life, familiar faces, and ranch activities.
Photography was fueling a creative passion inside of me that gave me a place and a purpose beyond basketball.
And now, I was in the running for a photography job people would kill for. I had an apartment lined up, all ready for me to move into. Three months ago, that was the dream.
On paper, it should have been enough.
But paper was so black and white. Paper couldn’t see the sweetness in Jake’s eyes when he told me my pictures were good.
Paper couldn’t tell the difference in Jake’s smiles.
It couldn’t see the tiniest inflection of sadness woven inside when he asked when I was leaving.
Paper couldn’t feel the heat passing from Jake’s arm to mine when we sat by each other watching a movie with Sophie the other night.
When he could have sat anywhere on the couch, and he sat right next to me.
Right up until Sophie dive-bombed herself in between us.
My heart could have burst.
Paper doesn’t see those things. Which leads me to wonder how a woman is supposed to be satisfied with enough?
I hadn’t shown Jake my favorite picture.
One I wouldn’t be sending to Boise. This picture I’d be keeping for myself.
To console me during the days in Boise when I found myself missing him and Sophie.
Jake had been riding in from checking the cattle on the mountain.
I’d watched him ride in like this all summer long.
I'd been waiting patiently for a sunset that would set the brush and trees aflame.
Patience must really be a virtue, because only a few days ago, I’d finally gotten my moment.
Streaks of golden light lit up the field and the cowboy slashing through a moody, dark sky that had recently poured rain. I had meant to frame him on the lower left side of the image, scaling back my viewpoint so Jake, in comparison to the mountains, looked small.
But as he rode toward me, he became my only focus. He slowly took in too much of the viewpoint for it to be a picture the magazine would want. But to me, it showcased a story unlike any other.
This was a cowboy, in his element, coming back home after some time away.
The flow of the movement, the slight blur of the shutter, the cowboy hat.
It felt different than all the others I’d snuck of Jake over the past few months.
This time, the dark sky was behind him. This time, he spotted me and smiled.
And this time, that cowboy was riding toward me.
A week later, from the couch in my living room, I heard Jake’s door slam shut.
I had spent the evening with Jake and Sophie, eating one of Jake’s specialty dinners, cowboy chili.
Which was a can of chili heated on the stove with slices of hot dog added in, and topped with cheese.
Sophie had been her usual self, excited and chattering to me about everything.
We had bonded over the past couple of weeks, and I was happy to be one of the few she was comfortable around.
Jake had been friendly but quieter than usual. When Cade and Kelsey stopped by to see if Sophie wanted to go with them to get an ice cream cone in town, we soon found ourselves home alone. Which was exactly what the two conniving matchmakers wanted.
But instead of hanging out together, Jake said he had some things to do outside.
He gave me a high five and left for the back room to change his clothes.
I went back to my house in a cloud of confusion and spent the next few minutes pretending to edit pictures on my computer.
I had interviewed with Wild Horizon two days earlier, which seemed to go well but I hadn’t heard anything back yet.
In four days, I would be moving either way.
The rodeo was tomorrow night.
I was sure Jake’s nerves were getting to him. That explained the introspective vibe he’d thrown down all night. Dusty was supposed to arrive in town this afternoon so he and Jake could practice roping together, but he called earlier and said he wouldn’t be able to make it until tomorrow morning.
I peered out the window of my cabin and saw the large, outdoor lights on over the corral.
He obviously didn’t want me around tonight, so, of course, I threw on a light sweatshirt and made my way across the grass to the makeshift arena just north of the stables.
Jake stood in the center of the arena, dressed in a t-shirt, shorts, and his cowboy boots, and throwing a rope over the horns of a dummy steer.
“Do you need me to show you how it’s done?” I called out from behind him, having no intention whatsoever to show him how anything was done.
Jake gave me a look over his shoulder that made me laugh before he said, “I would love nothing more than to watch you show me how it’s done.”
“Eh, I’m busy,” I protested lightly.
Jake proceeded to throw his rope over and over, and I proceeded to cheerfully make fun of him anytime he missed.
Which wasn’t often.
I’m talking five times out of probably one hundred throws.
But you better believe I didn’t let him forget it.
“You sure you don’t need me to rope with Dusty tomorrow?” I called out when he’d only succeeded in tagging one ear of the steer. “I’d hate for him to be embarrassed.”
“The rodeo already has a clown, Tuck.” Jake expertly wielded the rope around the head of the steer before turning back to me, a self-satisfied smile on his face.
I watched him pull the rope back toward him once more, before sending it flying once again over the cow’s head. Jake cinched the rope tight. He was looking a little too confident for my taste, and I was feeling restless all of a sudden.
“Anybody can hit a target when it’s not moving,” I called out, an edge to my voice.
He looked interested in that statement. “Care to back that up?”
No.
In truth, I was horrible at roping. Always had been. But the feeling between us was weird, and I was willing to do a lot of things to cheer Jake up, and it looked like I would now have to pretend to be John Wayne.
He watched me come for him and handed me the rope. I got into position while he critically studied my incorrect stance.
“This is how real cowgirls stand,” I insisted.
He motioned me to start. “I’m excited to see this.”
I wound the rope over my head and sent it flying. To my utter amazement, the rope landed perfectly over the head of the dummy cow.
Elated shock bubbled inside of me, but to Jake, I just handed him the rope calmly, like I roped cattle every morning before breakfast. “And that’s how it’s done, Nancy.”
He huffed out a laugh, stopping my quick escape with his chest. I looked up, my breath catching as he smiled down at me. “I think a real cowgirl could hit two in a row.”
And just like that, Jake was back.
I sighed the sigh of a much more confident cow roper. “Fine. What’s on the table?”
He rubbed his chin with his hand for a moment before a familiar mischievous gleam crossed his face. Before I could fake a nosebleed or take off in a dead run, Jake made things interesting.
“Alright. Maybe we do need a final test. A fitting end to our summer. If you miss your shot, you have to do something that will make me blush.”
I stilled, like a deer in the middle of a road with glaring headlights coming my way.
“What?”
The smile on his face was instant. “You heard me.”
“Like what?”
His eyebrows raised. “I guess we’ll find out.”
“No.”
“You’ve been training for this all summer. Time to see if you learned anything.”
I folded my arms, trying not to acknowledge the disappointment of his bringing up his coaching. “What happens if I make it?”
He thought for a long moment. “Then I’ll be doing something to make you blush.”
I swallowed, my gaze immediately drawn to his lips.
“Fair warning, though, Tuck. It takes a lot to turn me red.” When I gave him an exasperated look, he only grinned. “You might have to get creative.”
I pushed at his laughing chest, turning my face away from his so he wouldn’t see that I’d already lost.
I attempted to settle my racing heart by imagining the most un-sexy things I could think of.
Toilets
Dentures.
Camels.
“What if I can’t do it?” I asked.
“Then you’ll have to try harder. This is your final exam.” He held out his hand. “Spit or no spit?”
“Always no spit.”
We shook hands, and the second his warm hand held mine, I knew I was in trouble.
He handed me the rope. “You’re up, big talker.”
I gripped the rope and attempted to appear unaffected, but the rate at which my heart was currently speeding off a cliff was alarming.
“Should I start giving you some ideas?” Jake remarked somewhere behind me.
“For what?” I asked, adjusting my stance.
“For making me blush.”
“I won’t need it.” I bit back my smile and zeroed in on my target. This was nothing but a final exam to him. Supposedly. But why was there a trace of sadness in his eyes? Or had I imagined it?
He waited a beat before he went on, cheerfully getting into my head.
“I was frisked at the airport once. Something like that might do it.”
I shook my head, even as a laugh bubbled out of me. “No. Stop.”