by Joanna Sims
When she sat upright in bed, she immediately collapsed forward and dropped her head into her hands. The pounding in her head was so hard—thump, thump, thump. Why hadn’t she remembered to drink water before she went to sleep?
“Why didn’t you just say no to the last three drinks?” she grumbled.
She fell over on her side with a moan. “I’ll never do that again.”
Hercules barked and that got her attention. She inched over to the side of the bed, pushed her wild locks out of her face and looked down at her canine friend.
“Look at you, puppy paw!” She smiled weakly at the little poodle.
Hercules was the proud owner of a Brock McAllister custom creation. For her birthday, Brock had made Hercules his own miniature bed.
“You like your new bed, don’t you?”
If she didn’t have Hercules to tend to, perhaps she would have lingered in bed for an hour or two longer—let the headache subside. But Hercules had a thimble-sized bladder, so he couldn’t be held accountable for any accidents that were caused by a human being gone longer than his bladder could manage.
“Okay.” Casey inched even farther over to the edge. “You can do it.”
She slid off the side of the bed and melted downward to the floor. The room started to spin in the most upsetting way. Her stomach started to churn and the next thing she knew, she was on the floor in the bathroom.
“Starting off thirty-five hungover.” The cool ceramic of the tub felt nice on her forehead. “Awesome.”
First, Hercules got to go out and then he was served breakfast. Then she showered, brushed her teeth for an extended amount of time and then braided her hair to get it out of the way. Her eyes were bloodshot and her coloring looked jaundiced.
“But, besides that—” Casey held up both her thumbs “—two thumbs-up.”
She slowly made her way down the stairs and to the kitchen. Brock and Hannah were long gone—it was almost ten. Today was Wednesday—this was the day that she usually met Brock at the chapel. She had a feeling he wouldn’t be expecting her, but she just couldn’t wait to thank him for the beautiful gift. Her family had been generous this year, spoiling her with gift cards to her favorite shopping haunts and bottles of her favorite perfume. But for Brock to secretly make her a mini version of his incredible bed frames for Hercules? That was another level entirely.
She had a light, bland breakfast, afraid that anything she put in her stomach wouldn’t stay there for long. She popped a couple of over-the-counter pain relievers for headaches so she could make the drive to Bent Tree without her head throbbing incessantly. Brock would already have his lunch, and she wasn’t up to full speed yet—she opted to not bring anything to eat. She grabbed a couple bottles of water before heading to her loaner VW Bug.
“Come on, puppy face.” Casey secured the poodle’s carrier with the seat belt. “Let’s go see Brock.”
Casey dropped Hercules off with Aunt Barb, who was happy to dog-sit for her. She climbed up the hill, the same way and at the same pace as usual. This time, it felt like the hill kept on getting taller and taller and the top kept on getting farther and farther away. She was sweating through her T-shirt by the time she reached the top of the hill.
After making such a physically taxing climb, Casey was disappointed that Brock wasn’t in his usual spot. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and checked the time. It was the right time and the right place. But still no Brock.
“Oh, my head, my head, my head.” Casey was flat on her back in the grass, legs stretched out, with her arm over her eyes.
Her cell phone, which Taylor had been blowing up all morning, started to tweet, which let her know that she had just gotten a new text.
With a frustrated noise, Casey texted her sister back:
Yes, I had a good time, no, I didn’t let him kiss me, yes, he tried, no, he didn’t try to cop a feel and no, neither did I!
Casey turned the volume off on her phone so she couldn’t be annoyed by texts or emails, Snapchats or Instagram updates. Her head really needed it to be quiet.
“I was wondering if you were going to make it today.”
She lifted her arm from her eyes and stared at an upside-down view of Brock. He looked even taller from this angle.
“I wanted to say thank-you for my birthday present.”
Brock sat down in the grass beside her. “I’m glad you liked it. How does Hercules like it?”
“Are you kidding me? He thinks he’s King Badass now. He didn’t want to sleep with me last night. He slept in his new bed instead.”
Casey sat upright; she grabbed her head with a groan.
“Headache?”
“Totally my own fault.” She tapped the camera icon on her phone to pull up pictures of Hercules in his bed. “Your first satisfied customer.”
That got a smile out of him. Was she wrong, or was he extra pensive today?
“I didn’t bring anything for you. I really didn’t think you’d show.”
Casey moved onto her side, resting her head in her hand. “It’s fine. Believe me. My stomach isn’t happy with me right now. You seem tired today.” She noted the dark circles beneath Brock’s eyes.
“I didn’t sleep so well last night.”
“That’s because you always sleep on that couch,” she said. “You need to sleep in your own bed. If you don’t want to sleep on that mattress, then go buy a new one.”
The conversation ground to a halt after Brock unpacked his lunch and began to eat. He didn’t talk during meals—he focused on the food. But today, she couldn’t hold up both ends of the conversation like she normally would. They sat together in comfortable silence; she enjoyed the feeling of the sun on her arms and her face. She closed her eyes and soaked in the vitamin D.
“You had a good time.” It was a statement, not a question.
She opened her eyes when she answered, “I did. I can’t remember the last time I had that much fun going out. Wyatt taught me the two-step!”
More silence. Brock was in a very strange mood today. He looked drawn in the face and he had a distant look in his eyes.
“I wish you could have come to my birthday party.” She picked at a blade of grass.
She had invited him but knew in advance that he wouldn’t come.
“Hannah has never been able to handle parties like that. It’s too much stimulation for her.”
Casey understood that and she had told him as much. But she also knew that Brock wouldn’t have wanted to attend because of Clint. The longer she was in Montana, the more difficult it was to work around that fractured relationship, and honestly, the more annoyed she became with the entire situation.
She had grown to genuinely care for Brock; he was a good man. But when it came to his stepbrother, he really needed to get it together for the sake of the entire family—including Hannah.
Brock stood up abruptly, brushed the loose grass from the seat of his jeans and held out his hand to her.
“I need to talk to you.”
“And we need to stand up to do it?” She slipped her hand into his and let him help her stand up.
He nodded toward the chapel. “Let’s go sit on the steps.”
A shrug. “Okay.”
Brock, ever a gentleman, waited for her to be seated comfortably before he sat down beside her. Looking at their bodies side by side, Brock’s legs were almost twice as long as hers.
The ranch foreman looked straight ahead with his standard-issue Stetson sitting squarely on his head—his elbows were resting on his knees and his fingertips were pressed together.
She had no idea what he wanted to discuss with her—maybe something happened with the divorce or he wanted to work on different skills when summer school ended for Hannah next week. This was Brock’s conversation, his topic, so
Casey waited quietly for him to begin talking.
“I didn’t like you going out with Wyatt last night,” Brock said quietly.
Of all the things Brock could have said, that wasn’t what Casey was expecting. And, because she wasn’t expecting it, she couldn’t think of anything to say in return. So she stayed silent and listened.
“I’m still married.” He glanced over at her for the briefest of moments.
She nodded her agreement.
“She’s moved on with her life already,” Brock said of Shannon.
That was new information he was sharing with her.
With a hollow laugh, he added, “She’s already engaged. I didn’t know someone could get engaged before they’re divorced, but I guess it can happen.”
Brock looked at her now. “Hannah doesn’t know.”
Casey swallowed hard a couple of times; her mouth had just gone completely dry. “I won’t tell her.”
“Thank you.”
There was another break in the conversation before Brock went on to say, “I had been so focused on Shannon and the fact that she had moved on from our marriage that I didn’t know that I had moved on, too.”
Casey’s eyes widened as they shifted to his profile. Slowly, as the conversation progressed, her heartbeat was picking up pace, picking up pace...
“When I saw you go out the door last night with another man...” Brock kept his eyes locked onto the horizon. “I knew that I couldn’t go another day without telling you how I feel...about you.
“You are such a good-hearted woman, Casey. You honestly are. Everyone loves you because you’re just so kind to people.”
He looked at her as he continued. “You always try to see the best in people or look on the bright side... Even when you aren’t feeling well, you still try to find a silver lining.”
“Some people find that to be super annoying,” Casey said.
“Then I find them annoying.” Brock was quick to jump to her defense. That was his first instinct—to protect those people he cared about the most. She was beginning to realize that she was now one of those people.
“You’re so good with Hannah—she loves you.”
“I love her, too.”
Brock’s daughter had become very important to her.
“You’ve become one of my best friends.” The ranch foreman took her hand and held it gently in his. “But I want more.”
Their eyes locked in a way that had never happened before. There was a trust there, a sense of security, and because of that foundation, they were able to be vulnerable with each other. Brock’s eyes, the true windows to his soul, were open so she could see his heart—his intentions.
“Do you...want more...with me?” In that moment, he was opening himself up to her—he was taking another shot at love after being badly hurt—and this spoke volumes about his character.
Casey squeezed his hand with her fingers to reassure him. “I do.”
His shoulders dropped in what Casey could only describe in her mind as “relief” at her response. Her feelings for Brock had been growing steadily since the moment he had rescued her off that fence. But he had been understandably focused on his divorce from Shannon and raising his daughter, so she had pushed her feelings aside.
“But...” she added, “I think that we just need to take things real slow. You’re still not through the divorce with Shannon—that’s going to take a toll on you. And to layer a new relationship into the mix... I don’t want to do anything that would hurt our friendship. Because your friendship has meant the world to me—it really has.”
Brock gave her hand a quick kiss. “I agree.”
His lunch break was over; it was time to let him get back to work so she could get back to her plan for the day—riding Gigi.
“Hey!” Casey climbed to the chapel step and waved her hand for Brock to come stand by her. “Now I’m as tall as you are.”
Brock smiled at her affectionately.
“When’s the last time you gave someone a piggyback ride?” She had her hands on her hips.
“I don’t know—not since Hannah was young. Why?”
She made a circle with her finger. “Turn around, mountain man. I need a ride.”
He looked at her like she had fallen off her rocker, but he did turn around.
Brock needed to lighten up and have a good time every now and again. And, if showing him a good time also included getting a piggyback ride down the hill? All the better for her.
It was easy to climb onto his back from her perch; she put her arms around his neck and he hooked his arms behind her knees.
“Where am I taking you?” he asked.
“Down the hill,” she ordered him playfully. “Can you handle it?”
“Can I handle it?” he asked, feigning insult. “Just watch and learn.”
Brock didn’t walk to the hill; instead, he took off like a bull charging a red flag—head down and full steam ahead. She screamed in surprise and tightened her grip on his neck.
“Hold on! We’re going for it now,” he warned her.
She was amazed that a man his size could move that fast. He barely slowed down when they started down the hill. Casey, who had zero control in this situation, could only hold on and enjoy the ride. He wasn’t going to drop her—she knew that. So she started to laugh—because it was fun. And because he had surprised her in a wonderful way.
At the bottom of the hill, Brock stopped and let Casey go. He was out of breath from a different type of exertion he was accustomed to doing from day to day. His eyes were shining and it was nice to see him smile the way he was smiling at her now—no reservations. Just pure happiness.
Casey, who didn’t like anyone to have the upper hand, decided to practice her self-defense training. Without any warning, she stepped on his instep and pushed on the spot on his body were his leg met his groin, and before the ranch foreman knew what was happening, he was sitting in the grass.
The reaction on his face was priceless. Priceless!
Casey held up her arms like Rocky Balboa and pranced around in a circle while she loudly hummed the Rocky theme song.
When she was done celebrating, she stood, hands on hips, triumphant. But it didn’t last. Brock reached out with his long arms, grabbed her wrist and pulled her down beside him.
“Where’d you learn how to do that?” Brock asked her. “Not many people can say that they’ve gotten the better of me.”
Casey made a karate chop in the air. “Taylor and I took a self-defense class.”
They both started to laugh and it felt right. The sun was shining, the grass was soft, the sky was bright blue and she was having the time of her life with a man who was a great friend. And maybe...just maybe...more.
* * *
The next night, Casey and Brock sat together on the porch after Hannah had gone up to bed. Brock had Hercules in his lap—it was undeniable that the poodle had won the ranch foreman over. And it was a good sign to her that Hercules loved Brock in return.
“I talked to Shannon today.”
Casey’s heart gave the tiniest jump before resuming its regular rhythm.
“We’ve agreed on a settlement.”
There had been this struggle between Brock and Shannon, lurking beneath the surface, impacting Hannah and Brock and her in ways that were often indescribable. She could almost always tell when he had dealt with “California,” as he put it, because his demeanor was so different afterward. As much as he tried to hide it and keep it separate from his life with Hannah, he wasn’t a man who could easily paste a smile on his face and pretend like everything was peachy when it wasn’t.
“Hannah will live with me during the school year. She’ll live with Shannon during the summer. We’ll rotate major holidays. Shannon gets Taj...”
; Casey couldn’t help it—she gasped at the thought of Brock losing his stallion.
“I will keep the house and give her a credit for half the value of the house, minus the value of Taj.”
She reached out to hold on to his hand. “I’m so sorry about Taj, Brock. I know how much he means to you.”
“I’ll miss him,” Brock acknowledged. “God knows I will. But I had to do what was best for Hannah. It took me a while to realize that I was holding on for all the wrong reasons. Letting go of Taj—I’m doing that for the right reason.”
“Shannon will be here next week to take Hannah to California for the rest of the summer break. She’ll pick up Taj and take him with them.”
She squeezed his hand to comfort him. “I’ll sign the mediation agreement, have it notarized—after that, we just wait for a court date so a judge can declare us officially divorced.”
There was pure bitterness in Brock’s voice when he said the words officially divorced. She knew that Brock wanted to be ready to move on, but his emotions were going to be all over the place for a while—that was normal. It was also perfectly normal for her to move with caution with this man and protect her heart.
Chapter Twelve
A week after Brock announced that he was moving forward with his divorce, Shannon arrived with a shiny black Silverado truck and a shiny black horse trailer. When Brock’s soon-to-be ex-wife showed up, Casey was sitting in one of the rocking chairs answering emails on her computer. It was a bit awkward because Brock hadn’t returned from taking Hannah to a doctor’s appointment in Helena.
Shannon stepped out of the truck looking like she had stepped right out of a Vogue magazine shoot. Her long, flowing, perfectly highlighted, brandy-colored hair framed her undeniably beautiful heart-shaped face. She was six feet tall, slender but with nice curves in the right places. Honestly, Shannon was the kind of woman you assume doesn’t exist in real life. And yet, there she was—it was like spotting a unicorn.
Shannon slid her mirrored aviator sunglasses to the top of her head before she looked around the ranch. Casey could read her expression as easily as she could read a Dr. Seuss book—what a dump.
