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I thought about going to the retirement home. I imagined that it could be fun, especially if Wyatt would want to join me. Then I realized I couldn’t call him. I didn’t have his number. Good thing you wanted to play it cool and casual and not ask for his number, Ruby!
Suddenly, my day had a purpose. I would find Wyatt and get his number. Maybe even get a second date out of him.
That simple plan was all it took to shake the lethargy from me.
On a motorcycle, the ranch wasn’t more than a five-minute ride—of course, I was riding fast, partly because I was anxious to get there, but also because I hoped Lincoln would spot me and try to pull me over for speeding.
The ranch had seen an increase in activity since the last time I was there. The file of trailers had extended well past the riding ring and up the hill to the edge of the woods. More trailers were parked along the road with clusters forming on both sides. I parked my bike on the border between ranch and woods and followed the file of trailers up to the stables.
The appearance of more trailers wasn’t the only change the ranch had undergone in the last few days since my date with Wyatt. The grandstands had doubled in size, the tops of which could be seen from the road. Ticket booths had been set up on either side of the main gates, and a fence had been erected from the lane to the riding ring so that all traffic had to pass through the main lane.
I weaved in and out of the trailers hoping I would spot somebody I recognized—and hoping that someone wasn’t Wolf. To the right of the main lane, on the field between the stables and the road, I spied a series of picnic benches, on which were sprawled out an impressive spread of cakes, doughnuts, and cold cuts. I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t had breakfast, and my stomach grumbled in protest.
I couldn’t yet see anyone, but I heard their voices.
I crept closer, keeping my ear tuned for any familiarity.
Is that Wolf?
The voice had the same raspy growl to it, but he wasn’t yelling so I couldn’t be sure it was Wolf. I’d only ever heard Wolf when he was yelling.
I hid, my back flat against the back of a trailer, and listened.
The light strum of a guitar had me breathe a sigh of relief. Teddy!
My instinct was to run out to him, but I needed to hear his voice to confirm it was him strumming. Plus, I still wasn’t sure if the other voice didn’t belong to Wolf.
When the raspy voice spoke again, followed by a cough and a clearing of the throat, it spoke my name: something about ‘Ruby any time’ or ‘Ruby in the nick of time’. I couldn’t make it out exactly, but I was sure that he said ‘Ruby’.
I was also sure that the voice belonged to Grayson. And the laughter that followed had me understand that he was just doing his Wolf impression. I made a mental note to congratulate him on it. He’d even had me fooled.
I took a step out from my hiding spot.
“Both of you!”
This time it was Wyatt I heard. And though he was exactly who I was searching for, hearing his exclamation didn’t make me jump for joy. Instead, I darted back to my hiding spot.
Oh, goddess. Grayson’s telling him about our adventure in the creek!
“You can’t be serious!” Wyatt said.
I wished I could get a glimpse of his face as he spoke so I could tell if it was hurt, I was hearing in his voice, or simply utter disbelief.
“Samuel, you wouldn’t lie to me,” Wyatt continued. “Tell me the truth.”
“We’re telling you the truth,”Samuel said.
Teddy went back to strumming on the guitar, and what other words were said among them, I couldn’t make out.
I waited there in the shadow, my back flush against the trailer, for what seemed like an hour, though it was only the time for Teddy to make it through a slow country blues I didn’t recognize. Finally, a long moment after Teddy had stopped playing, Wyatt’s voice cut through clear as day. “I can’t believe you slept with the enemy.”
12
Wyatt
You’ve got to play it cool. When you meet a nice girl, an exciting girl, a girl you like being around and who you hope likes being around you too, you can’t let her know just how bad you’ve got it for her. You have to show that you’re interested—potentially, maybe, slightly. But if you call her the very next day after your first date or if you ask her out again only a few days later, you lose all your leverage, all your power. Girls don’t like it when a man loses his power.
