Page 107 of Then You Happened
Hell, maybe I’ve gotten so used to sharing my little victories with Jack that I’m just waiting here to share today with him like has become our norm.
Maybe, more than anything, I want to tell him that I finally get it.
The it being what it feels like to see something I’ve worked so hard for flourish. Sweat and tears and grime and grit and a whole hell of a lot of determination has taught me that I actually love this place. I haven’t ever felt that before.
But sitting here with the men laughing, the night air around me, a little piece of my heart lost but found, and a small taste of success on my tongue, I now know what it feels like.
I now know it’s a feeling that was and still is worth fighting for.
Funny thing, I thought there was only one it to get, but when a whoop over winning a hand in the poker game they’re playing reaches me, I realize there are two. The second it I finally get is what it feels like to have someone at your side who wants you to be a part of every single victory no matter how small it is.
It’s a foreign feeling to me.
I recall Jack’s glances today. The soft touches he’d give me that went unnoticed. Little things to tell me he was proud while never trying to steal my thunder.
He wants me to be part of every step and involved in every decision. It’s a heady feeling that is powerful and rewarding all at the same time.
My phone vibrates on the table beside me. I pick it up, not knowing who would be texting me so late.
JACK: You did well today.
Pride swells within me and tears blur my visions. I really needed to hear his voice, but this is the next closest thing to it.
ME: Thanks to you. This is all because of you, Jack. Thank you.
I send the text and imagine him checking his phone while the beer and jokes flow around that table.
JACK: Good night. Tell Gracie not to get too comfortable.
I smile and know the dog is going to love getting to sleep in Jack’s usual place in the bed beside me.
Standing, I take one las
t look at the lights burning in the bunkhouse before Gracie and I head inside.
Maybe them being here is for the best.
I’m getting a little too used to him being beside me.
In three months’ time, he’ll be gone, and I’ll be, what? Devastated? Better off because of the time I spent with him? Heartbroken?
Maybe a bit of all three.
And definitely a lot of one.
39
TATE
“So far, we’ve had six of your forty present. We’ve introduced them to their designated stud twice and let them do their thing,” Cory says as he gestures to the whiteboard the men have set up to keep track of all of the combinations and pairings of our mares and their stallions.
“That’s . . . great.” My response is hesitant because I’m still trying to process all that has happened in the last week.
Nonstop.
That’s the only word I can think of to describe it. I feel like I’m putting on a dog-and-pony show, and I’m the dog while Jack is the pony.
If the men go to the bar, Jack accompanies them so he can play defense against the Lone Star residents bad-mouthing the ranch or me.
