I’d have to buy her all the chew toys and treats she wanted to make up for what she’d seen.
I looked up, breath catching, as I saw Bishop staring at me through the window. His eyes were soft, the edges around them slightly crinkled. Something about the sight made all my frustrations fade away.
The wordmineechoed in my head with each steady beat of my heart. For the first time, it didn’t scare me. It didn’t make me want to run for the hills and never look back. If anything, I wanted to shout it from the rooftops for everyone to hear. I wanted to claim him, to give him the comfort he was desperately searching for.
I just hoped he felt the same because I wasn’t sure how to return to a world where I didn’t love Bishop Bryant.
“Everything ready for tomorrow?”Dad asked, scratching his goatee as he settled into his favorite armchair. Bishop and Lincoln sat on the couch beside him, beers in hand and bellies full. There was some old western show playing in the background that no one was paying attention to. I was pretty sure Dad could recite every word anyway, so it didn’t matter much.
Mom peeked her head around the corner, narrowing her eyes. “How long have you been waiting to ask that question?”
“Probably since the last time he asked it when they were cooking the steaks,” I chimed in before Dad could open his mouth. I came around with my arms full of empty plates, narrowly missing his playful swat.
“Smartass,” he muttered.
I paused, turning around and giving him a wink. “You always told me it was better to be a smartass than a dumbass.”
His laughter followed me into the kitchen, and I swore I heard him chuckle, “That’s my girl.”
Mom, Josie, and Cleo washed and dried the dishes as I finished putting away our leftovers. As much as I loved eating as a family, this was my favorite part. Sometimes we worked side-by-side in companionable silence, listening to Dad’s antics in the next room, while others we blasted music and danced around the kitchen island drinking margaritas.
Tonight was a quiet night, which I was thankful for. This weekend would be exhausting, but I loved that Dad made a big deal out of these big events because they weren’t for the faint of heart.
Brandings took a lot out of a crew. There were a lot of moving parts, and making sure the herds didn’t get too anxious being cooped up. Mama cows didn’t like to be separated from their babies, and sometimes that could cause trouble. We’d seen one knock down our makeshift pens like it was nothing before. On average, it was a minimum of a ten-hour day, but there’d been plenty of times we could go up totwelve, depending on the number of calves we had to go through or if there’d been any mishaps throughout the day. Dad never liked to rush things just for the sake of getting them done.
We switched from using a hot iron to freeze branding about five years ago, which meant it took a bit longer than before. There was a bit of a learning curve, but it was worth it in the long run to ensure we didn’t unnecessarily harm our animals.
As we finished, Mom wiped her hands on the towel over her shoulder. “Let’s go see what those boys are up to,” she said.
“I’m going out to the garage to grab a drink. Y’all want anything?” I asked, backing out of the kitchen. I’d only taken a few steps when I slammed into a rigid body. A sharp exhale followed as rough hands landed on my arms and squeezed lightly.
I turned, seeing Bishop staring down at me with an amused smirk. “I’ve heard that walking forward can help eliminate the whole running into someone thing.”
“You were clearly walking forward, yet you still ran into me, so I would say there’s some fault in that argument.” Stepping out of his touch felt wrong, especially when it’d been all I thought about over dinner.
Bishop was an expert at teasing me. More than once tonight, I found myself holding my breath as he squeezed past me in the kitchen. At first, I thought it was a complete accident, but then he’d kick up the corner of his lips in that same stupid little smile that had me wishing he was looking up at me from between my legs.
But we were still figuring things out, and until he’d given me the green light, I had to act like I hated him because that was what we were supposed to do. That’s what everyone expected from us.
So, I crossed my arms and popped my hip out. “Are you going to move, or are you just going to stand there with your thumb up your ass?”
There was a wicked spark in his eye, one that told me I was going to be in a lot of trouble when he got ahold of me next, but I loved bratting him. That would never change.
Especially now that I knew what punishments lay in store for me when we were alone.
Bishop widened his stance. “You gonna make me move, or are you all talk?”
I heard a giggle behind me and turned to find Mom and my sisters staring at us. The moment my gaze locked with Josie, she smacked the counter. “Yeah, are you still going to get those beers?” she asked, subtly nudging Cleo next to her.
“Oh yeah, I want one!”
I nearly died inside when my mom giggled and said, “Yes, me too! You might need someone to help you out. Bishop, be a dear, won’t you?”
Bishop sighed, exaggerated and long like it was some great inconvenience. When I turned around, I expected to find a scowl, but he was smiling. It was softer than before, a little subdued, but the emotion in his eyes gave him away. Like this not so subtle nudge from the women behind me soothed a worry I hadn’t known about.
He dipped his chin. “Yeah, sure. Come on, killer. Just don’t murder me when I turn around.” He turned and called out to Lincoln and my dad. “Y’all want a beer or anything from the garage?”
“Hell yes I do!” Dad called, rubbing his hands together. “Make it a double. I got two hands for a reason.”
