Betraying her resolve, Maren’s body flinched when he returned for another kiss.
Kirk noticed.
“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Maren,” he spoke softly. “I’m fine with waiting.” Kirk gave a defeated, small smile. “But I have a feeling it’s not me you’re waiting for, is it?”
Maren stilled.
“Hey.” His finger brushed her nose. “It’s okay. You know, I’ve seen the way you study his pictures, Maren. The way it’s almost as though you’re placing yourself right there in them. You must feel like you’re missing out on part of his life by being this far away.”
Maren didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t let the truth in Kirk’s words seep into her heart. She hadn’t been doing that. Had she?
“What’s his name?”
Maren swallowed. “Grady.”
“Grady,” Kirk repeated. “Does he know you feel this way about him?”
“I don’t even know how I feel about him anymore,” she admitted. “It’s complicated.”
“I’m sure it is. And Maren, I really am fine with waiting for you,” Kirk said. “But only if it’s me you’re waiting for. If you’re waiting for him, well, I can’t promise you I’ll continue to wait around.”
Maren’s front teeth sank into her lip. She didn’t want to hurt Kirk. She cared for him deeply and maybe in the future she could even grow to love him. He was the kind of man who made that seem so very easy.
But for now, she only loved Grady. And even though she didn’t mean to, nor even want to, Maren would wait for Grady to one day love her back.
To love her the way he used to.
To love her the way she prayed—deep down—he still did.
6
Grady
Summer – Age Twenty-Two
Grady ratcheted down the lock on the trailer and rubbed the back of his sunburned neck with his hand. The arena lights shut off one by one like the flash of a camera. Music that had been pumping through an expensive sound system traded the beat with truck stereos in the dirt lot outside the stands. The crowd dispersed, but the party was still going strong.
It was nearing eleven and they had two and a half hours to drive if they planned to make it back to Riverburn by morning. Grady’s muscles ached from three days straight working as a pickup man. They protested at the thought of an overnight drive, instead begging for the comfort of a mattress. A hotel would be fine for the men, but not their horses. Options were limited when traveling with equines.
Walt’s body must have ached, too, because before he stepped up into his one-ton diesel, he said, “I got us a place we can crash tonight. Flying M Ranch just fifteen miles north of Reno. Buck Lynch owns it—buddy of mine from my roping days.”
That sounded like heaven.
Sometimes it felt like Walt could read Grady’s mind. He figured working so closely on the circuit made them in tune with one another in a way he wasn’t with anyone else. They were a true team. That required anticipating the other’s next move, their next reaction.
But then, Walt would throw Grady a curve ball. Grady still wasn’t over the fact that he’d been warned to stay away from Maren for good. He didn’t figure he’d ever be over it, just like he’d never be over her.
“You can have shotgun.” Grady nodded his head to the empty front seat and instructed Josie to take it.
She’d come out that weekend to help at the rodeo. It was nice having her around. She knew how to take care of the animals, getting them tacked and warmed up and ready to go each day. Grady figured the father-daughter time was important, but he also appreciated the buffer Josie created. When she was around, Grady didn’t sense Walt’s threatening stare as intensely. Josie put a wedge between them, a welcome one.
“Thanks, Cutter.” Maren’s sister flashed a smile and jumped into the front seat. Stretching her tanned arms to the ceiling, she propped her flip-flop clad feet on the dash. It reminded Grady of the way Maren had always done that in his truck and he frowned.
Grady climbed into the back and Walt settled into the driver’s seat. It was a fitting illustration: Walt at the helm with his daughter by his side and Grady trailing behind. He shook the thought from his head, figuring his fatigued mind was out to make things much worse than they needed to be.
The drive wasn’t but fifteen minutes and they were pulling up to Flying M, a two-hundred-acre equine ranch that resembled Walt’s property, all the way down to the yellow and white house perched at the crest of the hill. Buck had already arrived, but was still unloading his horses into a large, open pasture. He and Walt shook hands and he instructed them where to put their animals for the night.
Josie and Grady got the horses situated in record time and headed up to the main house, eager for sustenance and promised rest. There was a dim, amber light on in the back kitchen like a lighthouse calling them ashore. Buck had said to help themselves to whatever they could find. It was all fair game. Grady’s stomach growled audibly at the smell of a warm peach cobbler and he realized he hadn’t eaten since that morning. The sweet scent made his taste buds tingle.
“Come on in,” a gray-haired, plump woman greeted when they pulled on the rickety screen door. “Buck said we’d have some visitors tonight. Got a fresh cobbler with your name on it.” She tightened the pink sash of her robe and stretched out a hand. “And just what name would that be?”
“Name’s Grady.” He slipped his hand into hers one and her round face lit up with a wild, gapped grin. “Grady Cutter, ma’am.”
Josie came up behind them. “And I’m Josephine.”
“Well, Grady and Josephine, welcome to Flying M. I’m Mary. I’ve fixed up the spare room for the two of you. Breakfast is at seven, though I understand y’all have had a busy weekend, so if sleeping in is on the agenda, it won’t bother me none,” she said. Her voice was awfully cheery for the late hour. “And if the two of you want privacy, that’s fine, too.”
“Oh, ma’am. We’re not together like that,” Grady clarified, noticing Josie’s face turn ripe tomato red. “More like brother and sister.”
“Well, golly,” Mary exclaimed. Her hand pressed to her large bosom and she looked both shocked and exasperated. “I apologize for the assumption. Just figured when Buck said we had two youngsters visiting that you were a sweet little married couple. Not many women head out on the road unless they’re following their man. I know that’s what I did with good ol’ Buck. Followed him to Nevada all the way from Alabama. And this one right here looks mighty worthy of following, if you ask me.” She winked at Josie. “My apologies.”
“No worries, ma’am.” Grady tipped his hat and glanced at the cobbler sitting on the stove. Steam rose from its center. He figured he could eat the entire dessert in one sitting, if offered.
“Here.” Sensing his hunger, Mary stepped forward and reached for a whitewashed cupboard. She opened the door and pulled down three plates from a shelf. “Let me serve it up for y’all. You just sit yourselves down and relax.”