Page 111 of Then You Happened
“I’ve got everything covered. Get some sleep, Tate.”
I stride out of the room but look back one more time.
Somewhere along the line, I forgot I came here because of a promise I made.
Sometime over the past few months, I lost sight of the fact that I was supposed to be making amends with the universe. I’d forgotten that my purpose here was to right some of the wrongs I’d made in my real estate dealings when I took advantage of small ranch owners by trying to help Tate.
Both of those notions have become one hundred percent overshadowed and forgotten because of her. Tatum Knox. The unexpected woman I can’t seem to get enough of.
I’ve definitely fucking fallen for her.
And hell if that isn’t a hard one to swallow.
41
TATE
“Thanks for your help, Will.”
“We’re the ones eating it all,” he says as he helps me carry the groceries into the bunkhouse. “It’s the least I can do.” He sets them on the table and then pauses. “Wait, you actually went into town and shopped? No delivery? What happened?”
“Nothing.” I shrug. He doesn’t need to know that my trip was to test the temperature of the town. The stares were still there, and some people were still frosty when I tried to interact with them, but . . . it felt much less daunting this time around.
“I just needed to take a mini-break. Go to town for a bit. Get an ice cream cone.”
“Being around all us men has to get tiring.” He laughs.
So says the eighteen-year-old.
“Nothing I can’t handle. Things are going well?” I ask nonchalantly because I don’t want to seem like I’m prying. “I mean . . . you’re okay with being here and staying here? I don’t mean to take you away from your family.” I stumble over the words I’m not sure if I’m supposed to know about what he said about his father’s drinking.
“Tate.” I stop unloading the fruit from my bag and look at him. His blue eyes are loaded with emotion. “This is the longest span of time I’ve ever had where I haven’t had to block a fist being thrown my way.”
“Will.” I don’t know what to say other than his name to let him know I hear him and I feel horrible for him.
“He drinks to cope with my mom’s death . . . but that isn’t the life I want to live, so I’m trying my best to do better.”
Emotion overwhelms me, and I have to force my hand not to shake. “Jack’s contract is up soon. Maybe you should consider if you want to stay on after that. With a paycheck, that is. We can figure something out so you can still do school at night. Hire a few more hands, and I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.”
“Are you serious?” The hope woven into those three words lingers in the room.
“Yes. I’ll talk to Jack about it and make sure he shows you what you need to know.”
“I don’t even know what to say. I just . . .”
“You’re a good kid, Will.”
He drops his head and nods before stepping out to grab more groceries . . . or to gather himself. I follow a second later to find he’s gotten the rest of the groceries, so I shut the tailgate for him.
“Where’s Jack anyway?” I ask.
“Down in the breeding pen.”
“’Kay.”
The sun is playing peekaboo with the clouds as I make my way down to the pens for what feels like the hundredth time in the past weeks. The sounds I’ve grown accustomed to—anxious mares whinnying, testosterone-fueled stallions revved—are a soundtrack around me.
My eyes are cast down, checking messages on my phone about upcoming food deliveries and times that Doc Arlington is available to come out to perform ultrasounds on the mares to see if any of this was a success, when a text from Sheryl pings, letting me know we might have a buyer for Ruby.
