“No! None of that bullshit, Denton. Your girl? I don’t give a shit about your girl. Decision needs to be made now.”
I clear my throat, already dreading what comes out of my mouth next.
“Fine, we'll do it.”
“That a boy?—”
I cut him off before he can finish. “On one condition.”
He lets out an exasperated breath. “Here we go. Fucking musicians. What is it?”
“I want to shift the tour venues to be in or near towns where there are pro rodeos. She’s on the rodeo circuit, and if we’re in the same town, when we’re traveling, it’ll work.”
Jake chuckles. “You’re serious? You want to plan a tour around a rodeo? This tour is nationwide. Do you really think she’s gonna follow you all over the country?”
“Yeah, I am serious. This isn’t just a fling, Jake. I want to make this work and this is the only way I think it will.”
I can hear the reluctance in his voice.
“Fine. Just know I don’t think it’s a good idea and there better be no drama.”
I let out a sigh of relief.
We talk logistics—dates, venues, and routes. The road won’t be easy, but I’m determined to make this work with Sorrel. I hang up, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders and pull up the band group chat.
The crew
Denton:
Tour is on.
. . .
As I pull up to the Saxxon Ranch, I stop in front of the gate. I sit here for a moment trying to find my bearings before driving in. A lump forms in the back of my throat and I’m nervous as hell to find out what Sorrel is going to think of all this.
20
SORREL
The sound of the dogs barking outside my cabin tell me Denton must be back from town. I’m so anxious to find out how the emergency band meeting went. I took the day off from ranch work but tried to stay busy while my mind raced with thoughts about me and Denton.
I cleaned the cabin and made us lunch to have outside on the porch in our usual spot. Walking out the front door, I feel my eyes crease from smiling—excited to jump into Denton's arms. But when he gets out of the truck, he has an uneasy look on his handsome face and my smile falters.
“Everything okay?” I ask from the top step—changing my mind about jumping into his arms.
He gives me a sheepish smile. “Oh yeah, everything's fine. What's that smell? Is that lunch? I’m starving,” he says, changing the subject.
“Yeah, go ahead and sit down. I’ll bring it out.”
I made us green chili enchiladas. It’s really the only thing I know how to make that turns out good every time. It’s Charli’s recipe. Being from Texas, she makes the best Tex-Mex food—something we’re desperately lacking in Montana.
I bring out two plates and forks, sit down next to Denton and hand him his plate. Dash is already at our feet begging.
Something is off and I’m no longer hungry but I do my best to eat anyway.
When we’re both finished, I take our plates inside. Instead of leaving them in the sink, I set them on the floor to let Dash polish them off. I lean over the sink and let out a raspberry.
Marching back outside, I burst through the screen door. “Please tell me what’s going on before I lose my damned mind, Denton.”
