“Well, what do you think? We can make a makeshift stage and everything with some wood pallets.”
“All right I’m in. You don’t have to twist my arm to get me to do a little singing.”
He has some enchiladas in the corner of his mouth and it makes me giggle. His light green eyes are sparkling, dimple showing, and I think he’s truly happy here.
One year on the road, we’ll get through, it and then maybe I can talk him into a year here in Montana after that or at least a full summer. I’m not sure what the future has in store for us but I can’t wait to find out. After all these months full of drama with Huck, denying my feelings for Denton, and then almost dying in a fire, I finally feel like everything is going to be okay. Like my life isn’t some great big pile of cow shit I keep stepping in. No, it feels good—hell better than good. I’m finally figuring out who I truly am and the type of person I want to be. Part of that is because of Denton. When you’re with the right person, a lot can change and for the better.
. . .
Our new guests are having supper with us, and their teenage daughter about fainted when she saw Denton sitting at the table. We all held back our laughs, not wanting to embarrass her.
Her name is Sofia. She’s only thirteen and still growing into her long skinny legs. She has dark brown hair and beautiful sun-kissed skin which I assume she got from living in the Arizona desert. She barrel races too and her face lit up when Sutton toldher that I’m a professional barrel racer. She asked if I could help her on her first barrel. She’s been blowing past it during her runs. I of course told her I would give her some pointers tomorrow morning. I’ll put her on Duke. I trust him with any level rider.
The whole family is sweet as can be. Her dad doesn't ride at all and her mom rode when she was a kid. Her younger brother rides dirt bikes, and Denton and him talk about the different types of bikes and racing throughout dinner. Apparently, Denton used to race dirt bikes too. I have to admit, there’s still so much I don’t know about him. I’m looking forward to learning more about this man when we travel together. I could sit here and watch him all night. The way he interacts with the guests and the genuine smile and care he gives them stirs something inside of me. He’s so good with people and I know he’s meant to be famous, to make a difference in people's lives—even if it’s only for a short moment.
He’s talking with Sofia now, asking her about school and barrel racing. She keeps brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear every few seconds. It’s cute how nervous she is around him and I don’t blame the girl. I still feel the same way sometimes. She asks if she can take a selfie with him and of course he says yes. It’s not totally weird to see—well, maybe a little weird to see at our dinner table—but it reminds me of the fact that this is part of his life. There won’t be any more hiding from it in a few short weeks. I just hope I can handle all the attention and women throwing themselves at him when we’re on the road. I was never the jealous type before Huck, but his cheating brought out insecurities I never knew I had. I tried to bury them but clearly that wasn’t working. The mature thing to do would be to talk with Denton about them before we leave. But part of me feels myself crawling back into that hole I buried everything in.I push the thought away for later and bring myself back to the present.
Everyone is getting up from their seats now, finished with another delicious dinner made by Jo.
“Any way we can take that cook home to Arizona with us?” Sofia's dad asks jokingly, but I think he might actually be serious. He had three heaping piles of Jo’s famous cowboy casserole. It’s a mouthwatering mixture of tater tots, ground beef, pinto beans, black beans, sour cream, andlotsof cheese. Yum.
“Not a chance, but I’m sure she’d give you the recipe for her cowboy casserole,” Dad tells him as they walk out onto the porch and the rest of us follow behind.
I cover my ears when Sofia lets out a high-pitched-scream. Her body exuberates with excitement as she jumps up and down when she sees the stage the ranch hands set up for our little concert tonight.
I look at Denton, and he just laughs. “You’ll get used to the fan girl scream,” he says.
“I highly doubt that,” I respond, laughing nervously.
Crease is striding over to me and Denton now, guitar case in hand. He nearly trips over his long gangly legs when he sees Sofia. Denton and I both chuckle under our breath, trying to hold back our smiles.
Recovering and brushing himself off, Crease hands Denton his guitar. “Sorrel said you needed this.”
“Yeah, thanks, Crease. Let me introduce you to someone,” Denton says, leading him to where Sofia is standing by the front of the makeshift stage. I can see the blush on Crease’s cheeks from a mile away. Oh, to be young again. My mind flashes back to the night I met Denton and I think my cheeks probably looked a little something like that.
I smile softly to myself replaying the night we met in my head as I walk over to the cooler set up with beer and hard seltzers. The ranch hands are all crowded around it now, and from deep within the group, I hear a voice with a sweet southern tang. I’d know that voice anywhere.
“Charli?” I call out, unable to see her surrounded by the group of cowboys whom most are over six feet tall. She shoves through them to get to me, beer in her hand and an unlit cigarette in the other.
“There she is!” Throwing her arm over my shoulder, she hands me her beer. I take a swig and it’s already warm and flat.
“How long have you been here for?”
“Damn near an hour. Clint invited me since you're too busy with your newboyfriendfor me now,” she says, puckering her lower lip and making a sad face.
I groan and feel terrible for how little time I’ve had for her lately. I need to thank Dad later for inviting her tonight.
“If I break into Dad’s liquor cabinet and get the good stuff, will it make up for it?” I ask, giving her big puppy-dog eyes.
She sighs. “You know, I can’t stay mad at you, Sorrel Saxxon. Especially if you’re offering me some Johnnie Walker Blue.”
I link her arm in mine and look back making sure Dad is distracted before sneaking into his stash.
Johnnie Walker Blue is Dad’s favorite scotch. It’s expensive so he only ever drinks it on special occasions. I grab us two red Solo cups and twist the top off the bottle, pouring the brown liquor into our cups. Dad will make us both shovel horse shit with a fork for weeks if he catches us, especially for drinking it out of plastic cups.
We both giggle like schoolgirls as I hurry up and put the bottle back. It feels like we're in high school all over again. Except in high school, we knew better and went for the cheap vodka, replacing it with water. We were grounded for a monthwhen Dad poured one of his buddies' wives a drink and she said it didn't taste like it had any liquor in it.
“Boots up, whiskey down!” we say as we cheers.
