“What’s going on here?” Blade asks, meeting his brother’s gaze and noting the stature of both men. I wait on Bull to answer, but Redd interjects.
“Nothing.” His lips purse. “We’re stepping out for some fresh air as it smells like bullshit in here.” Redd wraps his arm around Louisa’s neck, nearly choking her as he tugs her into his side.
“Better than smelling like a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” I add. Redd’s brows pinch like I’m one strange bird before he tugs Louisa behind him, and they head for the patio.
“What was that?” Blade questions, watching Redd walk away before looking at his brother. “You feeling alright?”
Blade must know what I’ve already surmised. Bull is not one to fight. Not when it comes to juvenile, immature, full-grown adults.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” he lies, lowering back to his chair. I want to return my hand to his arm, but the vibe coming off him says don’t touch him. He addresses his brother and his friend instead. “Take a seat.”
Bull nods to the other two chairs at our table, and the men join us.
“And look at you all feisty with her sheep’s clothing comment,” Blade teases.
“Too much?” I ask, as I often have in the past. I’ve been known to be over the top at times. It’s one way a woman could make it in a man’s business world.
Thankfully, Canyon walks onto the stage and introduces himself.
“Thanks for coming out tonight. I’m Canyon Eaton.”
“You’re Canyon Blaze,” someone shouts from the back, and Canyon sits up taller at the recognition of his former stage name.
“Now, I’m just Canyon.” He smiles sheepishly, and I see the rock star behind the smile. The man who wooed groupies and got one pregnant on his road to success. He strums at this guitar and introduces the song over a few practice chords. “This one’s a favorite called ‘Fools Rush In.’”
My neck cranes as I glance up at the side of Bull’s face. He slowly shakes his head with only the hint of a grin.
“Dammit,” he mutters as Canyon breaks into the opening line of Elvis Presley’s famous song. My hand is covered by Bull’s.
“Want to dance?”
I glance around as there isn’t really a dance floor. “Here?” I question. There’s hardly space between tables, and I’m almost double my size.
“Right here,” Bull suggests. He stands, and I follow, wrapping my hand into his as his arm comes around my waist. I need to stand almost sideways to him, but he’s somehow still tucked me into him. We listen to the harmony about fools rushing into love and how it can’t be helped, and the song is the theme for Bull and me. We remain quiet as Bull sways me back and forth, and my cheek rests near his heart, which races wildly in his chest.
My eyes scan the room again, finding another pair of men I recognize, but I close my eyes to them, swallowing up this moment before all hell breaks loose.
When the song ends, I glance up at Bull.
“Thank you,” I whisper, and his brow furrows once more.
“For what?” he says.
“For loving me.” He hasn’t said it to me. He might never admit it, but I want him to know that no matter how he labels it, this is love. What he’s done for me, how he treats me, who he is, has to be love.
“Scarlett, I—”
“I need some air.” Immediately, I sense I’ve made a mistake and excuse myself.
I step out to the patio where propane heaters warm the area, lessening the October chill. I approach the railing, looking out over the river. It feels ironic that I’m standing here, facing the same flowing water where I broke the news to Bull that I was pregnant. Slowly, I scan the surrounding patio finding the two men I recognized inside taking a seat at a table in the corner, closer to a space heater. Through the opening of the door, I can hear Canyon crooning through another song. This one I don’t recognize as well.
The air remains cool, but pregnancy weight keeps me warm as I wait out one more song.
Come on, I mutter to myself, counting once again on a foolish man in the bar. Keeping my back to the entrance, I tap my fingers on the railing as the music softly lulls out to the patio.
“With a name like Scarlett, you and I are better suited for one another.” Tipping back, I make eye contact with the men across the patio. Just want to make certain someone has me in their sights as I spar with this man.
“Redd.” I chuckle softly but don’t finish my giggle before the entrance door to the main bar opens, and Bull stalks toward me.
“Get out of here, Redd,” Bull demands, and the sheepherder turned woodcarver chuckles.
“Feeling threatened?” he teases.
“Bull would never need to feel that way,” I state, catching Bull’s eyes finally. “He knows I have staying power.”
Redd huffs and turns on his heels, and I reach out for Bull’s wrist. “But Redd, I’m curious if you’ve ever heard of Lex Steinman.” Redd stills and turns back to face me. In the dark of the night, only the fire lamps illuminate the space plus a dim outdoor light. Still, the pinch of Redd’s face is evident.
“Can’t say that I have?”
“Scarlett,” Bull hisses beside me, but I squeeze tighter at his wrist.
“What about MoosHaveRights2? Ever hear of that group?” I question. Redd rolls his head back a bit and glares at me.
“Everyone’s heard of the group. What are you going on about?” he questions.
“Don’t speak to Scarlett like that,” Bull warns, and everything in his voice drips malice. I’ve never heard him so gruff, and it’s a bit titillating while scary at the same time.
“Redd, when was the last time you were on Eaton property?”
“Scarlett,” Bull hisses once more.
“Say that back field.”
Redd seethes.
“The field you want to share with the Eatons.”
Bull doesn’t comment.
“The one you stole onto with a MoosHaveRights2 member and planted that hellish story about Bull and his cows.”
Bull remains silent, but Redd nearly vibrates with anger. His fists clench.
“That’s private property you stepped on. Invaded. And took illegal films on without proper consent. You could go to jail.” Redd’s shoulders slowly lower. “There’s also defamation of character, slander, and libel.”
“I didn’t report that shit. The network who bought the story did.” Legally or not, we didn’t always buy our stories. We sometimes just took the films directly from the internet like everyone else. Somehow, I don’t think Redd is smart enough to know that.
“But the network wouldn’t have seen the story if you hadn’t taken illegal action with a known animal activist group, putting them in question as well.”
“It was only supposed to be local.”
Bull gasps, and I slowly smile.
“What the hell did you do?” Bull demands.
“Your old man is so stubborn. He won’t give us a share of the land although we’re willing to pay.”
“We won’t give you a share of the land despite the money because your sheep would only tear up the land, something your old man knew, and that’s why he never asked us for it. Clean up your own fields.”