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So I put my truck back into drive and I let my gut and my heart lead. The fallout will come, I'm certain of it, but I have a feeling I might have a lot of fun until it does.
Right now, I can really use some fun in my life. Or maybe that's the lie I'm telling myself, so I'll get to see her again.
The lie I'm telling her is that I need to check on Mari.
She won't see through that one. Probably.
I round the curve in the drive and the Weston sisters' house comes into view. The large circular drive is full of trucks and cars and what looks like a horse trailer.
Has she found another rescue animal already? She's not even licensed yet.
Not that she needs a license to take in a couple of animals, but if she's going to run a true sanctuary farm, she's going to need a license.
I know because I stayed up late last night reading up on all the rules and regulations involved with owning a sanctuary farm.
For Hailey's sake. Since she's decided to help Dani get her business started.
An idea I questioned her ad nauseum about when I talked to her yesterday, but which I secretly love. I'm thrilled my baby sister is sinking so many roots into Catalpa Creek.
I might also like that she's helping Dani with her business, but only because I can see it as a good fit for Hailey.
I'm two feet from the front door when I hear what sounds like a battle cry from the backyard.
Assuming something horrible has befallen Dani, because that seems always to be the case, I race around the back of the house.
I arrive in time to see six women pull a thick rope and the six men clinging to it into a large, muddy hole. A crowd around them cheers and groans, depending on which team they're rooting for.
The men, covered in mud, seem to be stuck in a tangle of arms and legs. They grunt and curse as they attempt to separate. From the sidelines, the women who've beaten them and the spectators yell suggestions.
I wander closer and spot Dani, her curls in a high ponytail, among the group of women who bested the men in the tug-of-war. She offers a hand to one of the men and helps him out of the pit.
He wraps his entire body around her in a tight hug and jealousy ignites like an itchy rash under my skin even though it's beyond clear that the man is attempting to get her as muddy as he is, as she struggles to escape.
I'm a couple of steps from her when she breaks free. "Geez, Keating. That's the last time I do anything nice for you."
"There's no nice in competition," Keating replies.
"What the hell?" another man shouts as he emerges from the mud. "Is there glitter mixed in with the mud? Glitter is permanent, people. Who did this?"
No one volunteers an answer, and another man steps up next to the guy complaining about the glitter. "The Oakley, Weston, Herndon clan would never do something so dastardly. It has to be one of the outsiders."
An elderly woman in the audience huffs loudly. "I've told you a hundred times, Sloane. We call them in-laws."
"Not talking about the married ins," Sloane says. "I'm talking about the guys and gals related to Brit's friend Jared."
I know Jared Reynolds and I know his brothers and brothers-in-law, and my money's on George Gregory being responsible for the glitter. George married into the Reynolds family, but he's a local and a friend from childhood. He might be an adult, but he still loves a good prank as much as he did as a kid.
My theory is reinforced when George climbs out of the mud and shouts, "Next game." A tactic which, amazingly, distracts everyone from the glitter as they argue about which event to have next.
Dani opens her mouth as though she's ready to weigh in, but stops cold when I touch her shoulder and say her name.
She spins to look at me, a swipe of mud on her cheek, the rest of her covered in mud, and her eyes go wide. "Ranger? What are you doing here?"
Her dismay rubs me the wrong way. I'd been looking forward to seeing her, but obviously she doesn't feel the same. "Came to check on Mari and this business of yours. Can't say I'm impressed. What would happen to Mari if she fell in this mud hole?"
Dani pops her hands on her hips and glares at me, and a thrill runs through my veins. When did getting a reaction out of her, even a negative one, start to make me so happy? "She'd probably just get covered in mud and glitter. It's not a deep hole. It's not like she'd really hurt herself. I'd hose off the mud, and she'd be fine."
"And the glitter? I hardly think that's safe for a cow." Honestly, I doubt it would even bother Mari at all, but I can't stop poking.
