“That’s my point. You’re nineteen, Kenleigh. You don’t know him, but yet, you two have been almost joined at the hip since he’s come home. I’m not trying to be a dick here, but you’re too good for him. I’ve known Wes for about three years now, and I know how he is.”
“Is it so hard to believe that people can change?” I ask, arching an eyebrow at him. “I’m not trying to throw a low blow at you, but I remember you telling me how you moved here from Alabama because you couldn’t kick your heroin addiction.”
“What’s your point?” he bites out.
“My point is that you’ve changed. I know it was hard for you, but you did it, and I couldn’t be happier for you if I tried. You think I don’t know his type? Professional bull riders carry the same reputation that rock stars do. The only difference is theirs is in the country world. I’ve been to rodeos and seen how women of all ages and from all different walks of life throw themselves at ‘em and I know they eat that shit up. I’m not as naïve as everyone seems to think. What I’m trying to say is that if you can change, what makes you think it’s so impossible for him to do the same?”
“And you think you might be the one to make him change?” he asks condescendingly.
“No. I don’t want someone to change for me. They need to do it for themselves. But I will say this. If I choose to get to know him better, that’s my business. Like I said, I appreciate that you wanna look out for me, but I really don’t think he’ll hurt me the way you think he will.”
“I hope you’re right because I’d hate to kick his ass.” Brantley releases a long sigh and then looks up at me with a grin pulling at his lips. “I’m sorry that I snapped at you. It’s not my business, and I know that. I just don’t wanna see you get hurt.”
I nod my head in understanding. “I know and that’s why we’re such good friends. I’d hate to see you get hurt, too.” My fingers tap on the edge of the stall a couple of times. “Well, I guess I’ll get Autumn saddled up and take her out.”
“You’re gonna go and look for him aren’t ya?” he asks.
“I feel like I need to talk to him. I don’t want there to be tension between any of us, especially because we’ll be here all summer.”
“All right. Well, Mr. Adams asked me to tell him that the fence down by the creek needs mending, so I’m sure that’s where you’ll find him.” And just like that, Brantley turns his back to me and starts mucking the stall out again.
I walk off, calling over my shoulder, “I love you, Brantley!”
“Yeah! Yeah!” he shouts back.
After returning to the stalls, I put Autumn away before deciding to head into the house. I’d been out riding for almost two hours, looking for Wes up and down the creek, and searching for the broken spot in the fence. The only spot I found looked recently fixed. When that served me no result, I went to the spot that he had taken me to last night. It was a lot harder to find since I’d only been there when it was dark, but when I did find it, it was just as breathtakingly beautiful. Maybe even more so, because now I know the meaning behind it. He wasn’t there either.
Not knowing what else to do but wait for him to come around, I decide that a nap sounds really good. Carrying myself into the house and up to my room, I toe off my boots before lying back on the bed. I’ve never been one to take naps, but as hot as it is out, I feel completely drained. Rolling onto my side and tucking my hands underneath the pillow, my eyes suddenly feel very heavy as they slide to a close.
“Hey beautiful,” I hear a familiar voice from somewhere distant. I attempt to roll over, but stop when I feel something warm and a little scratchy, like the softest grade of sandpaper you can buy, caress my cheek. Without realizing it, I nuzzle into the unfamiliar yet familiar touch and sigh contentedly. Slowly, my eyes flicker open. Deep red and purple hues surround the room as the sun is almost done setting, and then I remember coming back to the house to nap after not being able to find Wes.
I clear my throat. “Hey.”
“Will you come with me? I have something I have to show you,” Wes asks, staring into my eyes.
“Sure. What time is it?”
“Almost nine.”
My eyes shoot open as I jolt up on the bed. “What? It’s almost nine. Why didn’t anyone wake me up?” I screech.
That gains me a chuckle from Wes. “Well, when I found you about an hour ago, you were sleeping so peacefully that I couldn’t wake you.”