Maybe he senses that, because he stops laughing. He doesn’t stop smiling as he walks closer. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. It’s nice to see my brother happy.”
That soothes my bruised ego a bit. “Yeah? Is that why you keep flirting with me? That didn’t make him happy, in case you didn’t notice.”
“Just helping him see he’s got feelings for you. He likes to keep those bottled up.” Hayes picks up the avocados I dropped and puts them in his own bag.
“Cheater. Those are mine.” I cross my arms over my bag, but not because I’m mad, more to hide the shaking in my hands.
If Hayes thought he was delivering news I wanted to hear, he’s wrong. I know Cal has feelings for me, but hearing it out loud makes them more real. Makes my feelings more real, too, and raises the stakes even higher. There’s no clean break if I leave.
He looks me dead on, his smirk slowly disappearing. “Don’t break his heart, Frankie. Or Junie’s. That’s all I ask.”
What can I do but nod? He’s not the only one worried about Cal’s heart. Or Junie’s either. That’s why I’ve kept my distance. Or tried, anyway.
Until last night.
Cal was right to run, but he shouldn’t have to.
That’s my job.
Chapter 13
Cal
The problem with treating cows for IBK isn’t just that it’s hot and dusty out here and smells like cows. It’s that I’ve treated cows so many times, I could do this with my eyes closed. Which means I’ve got plenty of time to think about Frankie. But also plenty of opportunities to get hurt. Familiarity doesn’t mean these animals aren’t still bigger and stronger than I am.
So, when I’m slow getting the antibiotic ready and a mean heifer bucks in the alley, pinning Wes against the metal panels, I snap back to attention fast. Bennett and Dad distract her so Wes can scramble over the gate and out of its reach.
She takes a few minutes to calm down, enough for me to get the meds in her eyes. Once we open the chute, she darts out, still mad, but she quickly runs it off.
Dad pats Wes down, brushing dust off his back while checking for injuries. He’s a little bruised and out of breath but not broken.
“Where’s your head, son? You’ve been distracted all morning,” Dad says to me when he’s done with Wes.
“Sorry, Dad. Won’t happen again.”
I’m too old to be lectured by him. I can count on one hand how many times he’s actually done it. But this last mistake wasn’t the first this morning. His frustration is fair.
“I can tell you where his head’s at,” Wes says. “Hollywood.”
I shoot him a glare. He fires one right back, but I keep my mouth shut. He’s got a right to be mad. I’m mad at myself for all the same reasons he is. I’ve let myself get distracted from my responsibilities. I’m thinking more about myself and Frankie than I am my own family. Same mistake I made last night when I kissed her.
I can’t make that mistake again. Until she knows if she’s staying or going, we can’t be anything more than friends.
I refocus my attention on the job at hand until I’ve treated the last half dozen infected cows.
“That’s the last of them.” I slap my hat against my thigh to shake off the dirt. “Let’s get out of this heat and grab some lunch.”
I promised Frankie I’d take her home, and while I have appointments closer to town, going all the way into Serenity Cove is going to add time onto my trip I don’t have. Not only that, but I worry people will be waiting to take pics of or harass her. I’m fighting my urge to keep her here where I know she’s safe. The fact Mom and Junie have both attached themselves to her like ticks on a dog, only sharpens my urge to keep Frankie here.
If I’m honest with myself, though, I’m not only worried about Frankie’s safety. A big part of me is worried if I take her back to her place, she’ll decide not to come back to the ranch, and I won’t ever see her again. She’ll disappear, like she tried to do in Serenity.
But fear’s not a reason to make her stay.
My dad and brothers head home in one truck. I follow in mine.
They’re done with me today. All morning, I’ve been distracted, bossy, and impatient. I blamed my mood on the stress of dealing with so many cows, trying to treat them all quickly before the infection spreads. But no one believed that. Not even me.
I appreciate them giving me a minute to work out what’s going on in my head before I get back to the ranch. Mom always says alone time is my love language, and I need it right now.
