Page 76 of Then You Happened
Or I could let those bills stay where they are and try to catch my mortgage payment up.
Not having to pay for the feed and grain for a year is like free money . . . and that’s something I can’t remember the last time I had.
I fight back the tears of relief that burn behind my closed lids, and when I finally collect my thoughts, I realize Jack’s truck has stopped.
When I open my eyes, I find that we’re in a parking lot and he’s studying me, a ghost of a smile on his face.
“Sorry. I needed a minute,” I murmur as if what just happened wasn’t real.
“Take all the time you need.” He reaches out and squeezes my hand and keeps it there.
I shift in my seat to face him, my need to say this suddenly very important. “Thank you for doing that.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Knox.”
“But I do. I . . . before—” My sigh fills the cab of the truck as I try to put my thoughts into words, as I try to explain to him the things he probably questions. “I never liked to rock the boat. I never wanted to make waves before.”
“And now?”
“And now I’ll capsize the damn boat if I have to in order to stand up for myself.”
“So I’ve experienced.” His voice is quiet, almost hovering on admiration. “Why?”
It’s one word but it’s so loaded with curiosity that I’m not sure how to answer him.
“Because I gave everything up I’d ever known for him. My family. My security. The life I wanted to lead and, I don’t know . . . I lost who I was. The person I wanted to be. The person I was.” I twist my lips and look out the window toward the little boy with a balloon on his wrist being carried by his father, wondering how I ever let myself do that.
“You’ll find her. I’m certain of it.”
“I’ve learned from my mistakes. That I’m too proud to walk away, but at the same time, I’m petrified to take steps toward the life I thought I wanted.”
“You’re fearless, Tate.” He half laughs, half snorts. “Stubborn as hell but fearless.”
The veneration in his voice has me swallowing over the lump it formed in my throat while the last part has me laughing.
“Thanks. I guess.”
“I’m going to rely on you to keep being both.”
I turn back to him. “What do you mean?”
“This deal I’m working right now. It’s going to ruffle some feathers in town.” He hits his thumb against the steering wheel a couple of times as he looks around. “Rumors are that the Steely Brothers aren’t thrilled with the quality of the horses they’ve been getting from Hickman Ranch. I plan to woo them over our way.”
“The Steely Brothers as in—”
“Yes, as in the largest broker of barrel and bronco riding horses in the nation. We have quarter horses, and I intend to convince them ours are better than Hickman’s.”
“Oh.” Caution edges the sound as my insides slowly soar, the hopes I held back earlier this morning finding a leg to stand on.
“It’s nothing set in stone, but I sold one of the shareholders a ranch a ways back, and . . .”
“And what?” I ask, but he just shakes his head and laughs to clear the faraway look from his eyes.
“Nothing. I just wanted to let you know that things here in town might get worse before they get better.”
“It isn’t as if I’m not used to nasty, Jack.”
“Yeah, but we’re messing with one of their own here.”
