He frowned at her. “Why did you have to bring Dennis into this?”
She was quiet a moment and then, to his dismay, drew back at the muted anger in his voice.
“I’m sorry,” he said, catching her hands, squeezing them lightly. “I don’t want to talk about Dennis.”
“But he’s so entwined in your life right now.”
“He’s not. He’s not a part of my life.”
“He’s the reason you’re chasing the rodeo, isn’t it?”
He pulled in a breath. He didn’t like the way this conversation was going. He had brought her up here to show her potential settings for pictures, to explore the relationship he knew was building between them. To look ahead, not back. Looking back never did him any good. “What if I want to prove to myself that I’m better than him?”
“Is that a good reason? You’ve had better examples of how to live your life. Don’t you think you might be making wrong choices for the wrong reasons?”
He blew out a sigh, dragging his hand over his face, wishing she would stop. Yet, some perverse part of him knew she was right. But if she was, then what was the point of what he was doing?
“Look, right now, this is all I’ve got. Rodeo. It’s who I am. I’m not a part of this ranch, so rodeo is all I’ve got.” He tossed the words out, then jumped off the wagon. He strode away but then caught himself. He couldn’t leave her there up on the wagon with the horses.
So he turned around to help her, but she was already making her way down the steps.
“I didn’t want to be on the wagon, in case the horses took off,” she said, her voice matter-of-fact.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, walking toward her to help her take that last, larger step. “I shouldn't have done that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” she said, giving him a wry smile. “And I’m sorry for prying. I’d like to say it’s none of my business, but part of me wants it to be.”
“I’m glad you care.” He paused, sucking in a deep breath. “I don’t like talking about Dennis—my father—with you. I feel like…like it’s a stain on something that, I think, is special.”
Her mouth tipped upward in a half-smile. “I think this is special too.”
He slipped his arm around her waist, turning her to the opening in the trees. “I stopped here not only to kiss you, but to show you this.” He waved his hand at the valley below them and the mountains across, standing sentinel, their granite peaks dusted with snow. “Faith was hoping to take pictures here with that as the backdrop.”
“I should have my camera,” she said.
“Just look at it for now,” he said. “Just enjoy it.”
She leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his waist, the two of them now blended together.
He drew in a breath as he laid his head on hers once again. It was as if the world was turning in slow circles with them at the center.
They stayed that way a moment, then, a few moments later, she drew away.
“Sorry. I want to catch this before the light shifts.”
He ran back and got her cameras and handed them to her. “I didn’t know which one you wanted.”
“Both of them. Thanks so much.”
He stood back, smiling at her infectious enthusiasm. And as he watched her snap photo after photo, as he saw the passion on her face, he wondered, again, why she hadn’t made this her career choice.
“We’ve got another place to look at,” he said. “Climb aboard.”
She took a few more photos then reluctantly backed away.
“The next place is just as nice,” he promised her.
“I’ll have to trust you.”
“I think you should anyhow.”
She gave him a curious look as he helped her aboard. “You know what? I do.”
He felt as if she had given him the best gift ever.
Chapter 13
“This is perfect,” Kinsley said, taking a few more pictures of the bridge.
“Why are you taking so many?” Elliot asked, still sitting in the wagon, keeping the horses in line.
“I want to see exactly how the light will fall this time of the day. Make sure I’ll get the right angle.”
“Only if it doesn’t rain.”
“Don’t even say that word.” Kinsley shot him a warning glance. “I’ve been praying steady for good weather.”
“That’s good. I’ll add mine, for what they’re worth.”
“What do you mean?” The cynical tone in his voice caught her attention.
“I haven’t spent as much time with God as I should,” he returned, lifting one booted foot to rest on the buckboard. With his hat tipped back on his head, his faded jeans, worn boots, and plaid shirt, he was the epitome of a cowboy. And every kiss he gave her, every crooked smile, lifted her heart. “I can’t imagine my prayers will have any influence, but I’ll add them too.”
“You don’t think God is waiting for you? He never leaves, you know. We’re the one who moved if God feels distant.” As soon as she spoke the words she wished she hadn’t. It was as if this entire time together she’d been prying. Digging.
Protecting yourself?
Maybe. Her past relationship had taught her hard lessons on the importance of looking out for herself. Of not jumping into any relationship, or drifting into any relationship, without knowing what she was in for.
He slanted her another signature grin. “For someone who has had her own share of junk to deal with, you’re surprisingly optimistic about God.”
“His love surrounds me and has held me up through that junk.” She shrugged, wishing she could find the right words to encapsulate a relationship that permeated her being. That was as much a part of her as her hair and eye color. “Haven’t you felt it as well? How could you not, living here?”
He twisted his mouth to one side as if considering her question. “I did when I was with my mom, Grace. She would tell me she was praying for me. I think it was her prayers that eventually brought me back to the Tye ranch for good.”
“Given what you told me about Dennis, I would say that was an answer to prayer.”
Elliot smiled. “You’re probably right. But I hate to cut things short.” He glanced at his watch. “We should get back before Kane starts fussing and sending out the scouting crew.”
“He is very much the big brother, isn’t he?” Kinsley asked, walking back to the wagon but giving the horses a wide enough berth. She felt a little better around them, but they still gave her the willies.
“He is that, but in a good way.”
“Sounds like you’ve found some measure of peace, the two of you.”
“Yeah. And thanks to your advice, we cleared a lot of things up.” He bounded down from the wagon and helped her up and into the seat. “Good to go?” he asked as she slipped her cameras back in her bag and zipped it closed. She pushed it against the buckboard and sat back.
“I am.”
“Great.” He held out the reins to her. “You’re in charge.”
She shot him a panicked glance, holding her hands up. “No. No way.”
“C’mon, you know how quiet the horses are. It’s been a real snooze driving them. What could go wrong?”
“That question rates right up there alongside ‘hold my beer, watch this’ when it comes to potential catastrophes.”
“You don’t need to see a catastrophe with every horse.”
“Says the banged up saddle bronc rider.”
“That’s different.”
“They’re not. They’re still horses.”
But Elliot still held the reins out to her. “Don’t you want to see what it’s like to control a horse? To be in charge not only of one, but two horses?”
She swallowed, biting her lip as she considered his offer.
“The best way to deal with a fear is to face it head on,” he said. “You’re not the only one who can do psychoanalysis.”
“Touché, Dr. Elliot.” She rubbed her hands over her jeans,
but as she did, a picture of Denise popped into her mind. In charge, confident. Just the kind of woman who was a better match for Elliot than she was.
So she held her hands out to take the reins, adding, “You’re keeping one foot on the brake, right?”
“I’ll be right here. If necessary, I can leap onto the backs of the horses and control them that way.”
“You’ve done that before?” she asked, aghast at the idea.
“Nope. But I’ve watched enough old Westerns to know how it’s done.”
She chuckled at his laissez-faire attitude.
“So here’s how you thread the reins through,” he said, his hands covering hers. “You’ve only got the two horses, so it’s much easier.”
Kinsley followed his lead, focusing on the leather reins, trying not to get distracted by his head close to hers, his hands touching hers.
“Okay, give a little slap on their backs and say ‘Giddy up.’ Cliché, I know. When you want them to turn, you say ‘Gee’ for right and ‘Haw’ for left. And give a tug on the appropriate horse. Easy.”
“Sure.” Kinsley took another steadying breath, battling an unwelcome flutter of nerves. But when Elliot slipped his arm around her shoulders, she felt her nerves settle.
She slapped the reins just as Elliot told her, called out “Giddy up,” and with a sudden jerk, the horses leaned into the harness and started walking.
“We need to make a left turn up ahead,” Elliot said, pointing to where they would rejoin the trail.
Another breath and a nod of recognition, and Kinsley hunched her shoulders, pressed her feet against the buckboard.
“You’ll need to relax a bit,” Elliot said. “Your tension flows down the reins to the horse. Like electricity.”
“Really?”
“Sort of. Just relax and trust me. I wouldn’t let you do this if I didn’t think you could handle these horses.”
She nodded and lowered her shoulders, hoping that would help.
Seamus and Sancho lumbered along and when she tugged on the one and called out “Gee,” just as Elliot predicted, the one horse, she couldn’t remember which one, obediently turned, taking his partner with him. The wagon creaked and the horses plodded, and with each calm step she felt herself relax.
“See, you’re a natural. Now, make the horses stop.”
“Why? We’re moving along so nicely.” She was more than content to sit and let the horses have their head.
“Because I want you to see that you have control.”
She tugged on the reins. Nothing happened.
“A little harder, honey. They don’t have bits in their mouths, so aren’t as sensitive to pressure. They’ll feel it through the collars on their neck.”
So she pulled a little harder and, to her surprise, the horses stopped. They stomped their feet and shook their heads, as if wondering what was going on, but they didn’t move one inch forward.
“Now, get them going again,” Elliot said.
Another slap of the reins, another “Giddy up” and they did exactly what she wanted.
“Told you, you can do this.” Elliot leaned back and tipped his hat over his eyes, as if he was about to have a nap.
“What are you doing?” she asked, elbowing him in the side.
“Resting. It’s been a busy few days.” He lifted his hat and looked at her, grinning. “And just messing with you.”
“I’ve got two 1200-pound animals pulling a wagon that I’m sitting on,” she said through gritted teeth, trying to keep her voice low so as not to frighten the horses. “This is not the time to be ‘messing’ with me.”
“Sorry. I couldn’t resist. I love how you jump to the bait, though.”
“Okay, you’ve had your fun.” She took another breath as they broke through a copse of trees and onto the pasture. They had another hill to climb and then, if she were correct, the ranch would be in sight. The horses, sensing they were getting close to home, picked up the pace.
“Hold them back,” Elliot said, sitting up. “Remember, you’re in charge.”
So she pulled on the reins again and, sure enough, the horses slowed.
“Turn them right, just ’cause you can,” he instructed.
“Why? The ranch is just over that hill ahead.”
“Just try.”
So she did. Then she turned them left. Then in a circle. She thought for sure she would have to fight the horses but, true to Elliot’s word, they obeyed.
“So, doesn’t that feel good?” he asked as she made them turn once more.
She shot him a grin, surprised at how much fun she was having. “It does feel good,” she admitted.
“Horses want to please. They just need to know what you want them to do. I’ll pass on a good piece of advice I got from my dad.”
“Which one?” Kinsley couldn’t help asking.
“Zach. He told me that a dog is looking for friendship, but a horse is looking for leadership. So you have to provide that leadership. They are more comfortable if they know exactly what you’re asking from them.”
“Good to know.”
“And one of these days, I’ll see you on the back of a horse again, providing that leadership.”
She wanted to refute his words, but instead she latched onto the idea that there would be a future time. Together.
What would that look like?
She didn’t want to delve too deeply into that. Not yet.
For now, she was riding beside this amazing man, driving a team of horses.
In charge and in control.
“Stop here,” he said. “At the top of the hill.”
“Why?”
“Because you look so adorable right now. I want to kiss you again.”
She couldn’t resist that invitation, so she pulled the horses to a stop. Elliot put the brake on, tied the reins around it, pulled her close, and kissed her again. She slipped into his arms, responding to him in a way she never had with Drake. Then, with a satisfied smile, she leaned against him, absorbing the warmth of his body, the strength of his arms, content, for now, to put off going back to the ranch. To just sit here on this hilltop and enjoy the amazing view spread out below them and the man she shared it with.
“This is so beautiful,” Kinsley breathed, resting against him. “I can’t imagine why anyone would want to leave this.”
He didn’t know if she had said what she did on purpose, but it created a tumble of unwelcome thoughts.
Why was he leaving all the time? Why was he always running as she said?
Do you have to keep doing this?
He didn’t like the questions she created in him. He resented the uncertainty she brought into his life, and yet, he knew she was only unearthing the indecision that had been dogging him the past few years.
He didn’t respond to her comment. Instead he turned her toward him, drew her close, and kissed her again. And again. Easier to do that than face the questions she brought up in him.
But she drew back, her eyes troubled.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“We keep kissing each other. I know what it means to me. I guess I’d like to know what it means to you.”
He knew he had to answer quickly, but at the same time didn’t want to throw out some pat response. She deserved more than that.
Trouble was, he wasn’t sure. Just as he was about to say that he wanted to see how things would go, his phone rang.
He wanted to ignore it, talk about where this was going, if it was going anywhere.
But he was waiting to hear back from a rodeo buddy about a ride this weekend.
With his eyes on Kinsley, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped to answer it, not registering who was calling.
“Hey, Son.”
The growly voice in his ear was like a hand tightening around his gut.
“Hey, Dennis,” he said, hoping he sounded more casual than he felt.
Hang up. End this conversation.
But years of ha
bit kept him on the line. Years of hoping maybe this time things would be different.
He turned away from Kinsley as if he didn’t want her to witness this.
“Hey my boy, how you doing?” Dennis’s words were slurred, and Elliot guessed he’d been drinking. Or was still drinking. His father never knew when to stop.
“What do you want?” Elliot asked, his voice clipped.
“Well, of course I phoned to congratulate you on your last rodeo win,” his dad said, laughing. “Isn’t that what a father’s supposed to do?”
What a father was supposed to do was feed his son, take care of him, and encourage him. Not beat him or neglect him or berate him.
“Well thanks for that,” Elliot said.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t get too cocky.” This was interrupted by a fit of coughing. “You’ll never beat my ranking. And I know you’ll never win. The only Meacher name on that CFR trophy will be mine.”
In the background Elliot heard the clink of glasses and the strains of country music. Big surprise. His dad was sitting in a bar.
“You’re right. The Meacher name won’t be there when I win. I’m competing under my current last name. Tye.”
Heavy silence followed this comment. Elliot knew the reminder would get under his father’s skin. Dennis always grumbled that Elliot never competed under his proper name. The Meacher name.
“What have they ever done for you? You’re my son. I took care of you when you were a kid and your useless mother took off. ’Course, I don’t know why I bothered with a mouthy, arrogant kid like you. Faithless kid like you. You may think you’re some great saddle bronc rider, but you’ll never be what I was. Never.” His voice grew louder and angrier with each word, and when he was done, he coughed again.
Kinsley wasn’t looking at him, but Elliot could tell from the set of her mouth that she heard every one of his father’s jeers.
“I’m saying goodbye now,” Elliot said.
“Well then do it, do it and hang up,” his dad taunted him. “But I know you can’t. I know you miss me, and I know you need me. I taught you everything you know about saddle bronc riding. I made you who you are.”
Elliot clenched his jaw, closing his eyes as his father’s words resonated through his mind. “Yeah, you did, Dad, you made me exactly what I am.”
Taming the Cowboy (Family Ties Book 3) Page 18
