Page 42 of Kicking Up Dust

“You good? Are your ribs hurting?” Kenny asks, looking overly concerned. I didn’t know much about Austin yet, but I’d gathered that Austin had been hurt recently and I noticed her best friend treated her a bit tenderly. I wasn’t sure if that was new behavior, but Austin acted annoyed by it.

“Yeah, but it’s fine. You two go ahead, we’ll catch up.”

Tate looks at me like I’m dropping her off in the woods to abandon her and driving off. “I’ll catch up soon. The baby’s foot is in my ribs.”

It’s not, but Tate doesn’t know that. She’s squeamish enough to scrunch her nose and decide it’s better to follow Kenny after all.

“Thanks… again,” I tell Austin as they walk off.

“Don’t mention it.” She doesn’t try to talk or rush me while we sit there, just pulls out her phone and starts texting.

After five minutes of sitting there, I start to feel bad.

“We can go catch up if you want,” I tell her, but she just flicks her eyes over me and then shakes her head.

“Nah, I’m in the middle of a delicious sexting session with Maddox. Kenny doesn’t need to be around for that.”

I can’t help but laugh. I know the gist of the drama surrounding the couple, if it could be called drama. Austin is Kenny’s best friend and Colt’s ex—something I try hard not to think about because Austin’s body is sinful, and mine is a far cry from being similar. She and Maddox somehow started a situationship and wound up falling in love, with a few hiccups in the way, of course. Apparently, she left at the beginning of summer before I arrived, but she’s back now and living in Maddox’s cabin.

Colt says his brother is actually tolerable to be around now, and their mom is over the moon about it, but Maddox still seems cold to me. And Austin is still terrifying, despite how nice she’s being.

“Maddie told Colt your legs are hurting you, so expect a leg rub tonight,” she quips, finally putting her phone away.

I gape at her. I want to ask her why on earth she told Maddie that my legs were hurting and why he felt the need to tell Colt, but I get the feeling Austin does most things unapologetically, so there’s no point in arguing with her about it.

“My legs are fine.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re pregnant and your legs are hurting you, you’re just too scared to speak up because you don’t want to inconvenience us. Which, you wouldn’t be, by the way.”

“That’s not true.”

“Listen, B. Can I call you B?” I tilt my head, but she takes it as a yes, I guess. “I’m thinking you and I are a lot alike. The Whittakers are this big cookie-cutter family that feels too good to be true, huh? You feel lucky to have them, especially because—I’d gather—you think you don’t belong there and you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. Am I right?”

I don’t confirm or deny, but I do seethe a bit at her gall.

“Right. Like I said, we’re a lot alike. Something I learned pretty quickly is that they’re going to take care of you anyway. It makes them happy to do it. They like their projects, like you and I.”

“I’m not a project.”

“You’re right. ‘Project’ implies a completion date, so that’s not the right word. Regardless, we’re strays. We just happened to wander onto the richest ranch in Montana, and I don’t mean money-wise. We think speaking up for our own well-being is an inconvenience because we’ve been taught it is—ignored when we had needs—but that won’t fly here. I’m letting you know up front before you waste your time and energy fighting it for months just to wind back up here anyway, like I did.”

My brows furrow at that. “I thought you liked the ranch?”

“Oh, I love the ranch, and the people on it—especially one grumpy motherfucker in particular—but I know better than anyone that it takes some getting used to. When you’re so used to war zones, even safe places feel like a bomb’s going to fall sooner or later.”

That hits me right in the stomach. I hate to think Austin relates to that the same way I do.

“Have any bombs fallen at Whittaker Ranch?”

Austin smiles at me. “Not one.”

Colt’s already in from his chores when we get home. He meets the Dodge as it pulls up to the house, rounding the vehicle and opening doors. I know better than to open my own by now, so it’s the last one that gets opened.

“I can walk,” I tell him when he immediately curls his arms under my legs and around my back.

“Sure you can, pretty girl. But I’m wearing a tank top and wanna show off my muscles, so it’s a win-win.”

“Christ, you’re annoying,” Austin mutters as she slips out of the cab. “I somehow thought you’d be less cocky in an actual relationship.”