Chapter 16 Jennie
The next day came in bright and too hot. The whole county looked bleached, too sharp for comfort. I wondered if anyone else felt as raw, but I doubted it. They’d probably gotten plenty of sleep.
I met Reid at the boundary, where Ghost waited with his head down.
Jupiter nickered at him, ears up and hopeful.
There’s a storybook version of ranching, where the fences are straight and the grass waves in the breeze and the hands all whistle while they work.
That isn’t the world I lived in, and it sure as hell wasn’t the world that raised Reid Coulter.
He pointed out the tells as we rode, giving me a crash course in reading the land. “You see that?” he asked, nodding at a stretch of new five-strand, the wire so shiny it looked painted on. “Fresh fence. Coleman’s crew must’ve been fixing something they didn’t want to get noticed.”
“Couldn’t it have been a cow that broke through?” I asked.
Reid cocked his head toward the fields. “Look at the grass. It’s not been touched in months. This isn’t one of the fields their cows are in, and ours haven’t been near here in a while.”
“So it could’ve been an animal, but more likely they’re making sure they block off routes to their guns.”
He winked at me. “That’s my take. We now have to take the long way around. That’s not a coincidence.”
The world rolled out in green and silver, wildflowers and brush in a race to see which could outrun the heat. We made a loop of the property, circling back toward the guns to retrieve my drone, which had died in the night.
At the edge of the ridge, I dismounted and walked Jupiter up to the old live oak where I’d landed the surveillance drone.
It was right where I left it. I pulled a fresh battery from my saddlebag, swapped it, and scanned the memory.
It had recorded every movement in a twenty-acre sweep, but the only things of note were a couple of deer and a pair of coyotes doing what coyotes do best.
Reid watched me, leaning against Ghost, arms crossed but eyes wide open.
He had the patience of a man who had waited for things his whole life and never once been surprised when they showed up.
He gave me the look, the one that said he’d already decided what he thought of me, and it wasn’t in any way negative.
When I finished with the drone, I turned back to Jupiter, but he was there before I could swing a leg over.
He braced my foot, and for a second, our faces were so close I could feel the humidity coming off his skin.
He didn’t move, and neither did I. The silence was bigger than both of us.
I said teasingly, “If you’re going to kiss me again, maybe warn me first.”
He stepped back, letting go. “Where’s the fun in that?”
We stood there, suspended, until the horses pulled us back to earth.
Reid boosted me, and I let Jupiter set the pace on the ride home, which meant we went fast and a little reckless.
I needed to know who the Colemans were selling to, and why. I needed to know how long it had been going, who else was in on it, and what the endgame was. And, if I was being honest, I needed to know what it meant to want someone whose world I could never belong to.
We reached the boundary where the Coulter pasture ended and the real world began. I could see the old highway, a cemetery in the distance, and a lazy arc of buzzards overhead. I slowed Jupiter, let her graze, and turned to Reid.
“I need to think,” I said. “About all this.”
He didn’t argue. “You know where to find me.”
I almost laughed. “You never move far.”
He shrugged. “That’s what you like about me.” He paused. “I was wondering if you’d like to come to dinner tomorrow night? With the whole crew.”
My stomach went icy. “The whole Maddox ranch crew?”
Reid nodded. “They’re my family, and I’d like them to meet you and you them.”
Warmth spread, thawing the ice that had formed. “Okay, yeah. I’d like that.”
We parted at the cattle guard, no kisses, no dramatic farewells. Just a nod, and then he was gone. And I had a dinner date to mentally prepare for.