Serenity Falls(95)

I wave my hand between us. “Look, I don’t like this not talking with you. I miss the friend I met last summer. We got along really well. At least, I thought we did.”

“We did. And I miss our friendship, too. I let my jealousy get in the way. At first, I thought this thing between you and Wes was just a fling, but I was wrong. I see it now. He’s in love with you, and you love him. Everyone can see it.” She shakes her head as she rakes her fingers through her hair. “I was wrong to have treated you the way I did. I should have never asked you to give up your relationship with him for me.”

“You love him, don’t you?” I softly ask. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. Maybe it was because he wasn’t here last summer, but the way she used to go on and on about him should have been my first clue.

“I thought I did. I thought, ever since that summer we shared together, that I was something special to him, but he never once looked at me the way he looks at you. For so long, I wanted what you have. And I wanted that to be with him.”

I am speechless at her confession. Never would I have guessed that she was really in that deep with Wes. I want to apologize, but I’m not sorry for loving him, or that he and I love each other; it’s something I will not apologize for.

“I’m sorry for how he treated you. I want you to know that, but I won’t apologize for me and him being in love.”

“I know. I know. He apologized to me the other day, and in a way, I think it helped. In all seriousness, Kenleigh, I really do wish the best for the both of you.” Sincerity is laced in every word of her apology.

Immediately, my arms wrap around her shoulders as I pull her into a hug. “Are we good now?”

She chuckles against my shoulder, patting my back. “Of course.” I release her with a nod and a smile. “Well, I’m gonna get back over there.” She nods and points in Sarah, Liam, and Brantley’s direction.

I watch her slip further and further away as I stand here thinking. That conversation went a lot better than it could have. Elation rushes through me as I think about how I may finally have my friend back. When I said that I missed our friendship, that was true, I do. “I told you.” Brantley’s voice startles me, causing me to jump. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he offers in apology as he laughs at me.

“I know, and I believe her. I guess I understand her reasoning. I’m not making any excuses for her, but if someone treated me like she was treated, I can kind of understand.”

“No, you can’t. You’re nothing like her. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be treated like that.”

He’s right. I’m not the kind of person to let someone use me, not even Wes, no matter how much I love him.

“I hope that she finds somebody that will love her as much as she loves them.” And that’s when I notice it. Brantley’s gaze is fixated on Jackie.

“She would, if she’d just open her eyes,” he says under his breath. Slowly, his gaze turns to me and his eyes go wide as he realizes he just said that aloud. “Don’t say anything.”

“Your secret’s safe with me. But if you want some friendly advice, you should tell her sooner rather than later. You are a great catch. She’d be lucky to have you.”

“I’ll think about it.” He sighs, smoothing his hand over his bald head.





The roar of the crowd echoes throughout the arena as we all walk past the large, sliding, metal doors. Bleachers surround the circular iron gates that separate the spectators from the bull riders. Multicolored writing highlights the endorsers’ names painted on the gates where the bulls and their riders will burst through. Large, aluminum lights hang like pendulums swaying in the gentle breeze that flows through Stampede Stadium. The dirt under my brown cowboy boots blows like dust in the wind with every step I take. Sweat beads on the back of my neck and slowly starts to trickle down my spine, causing my red, brown, and grey plaid shirt to stick to my skin. Cowboy hats of all different colors, shapes, and sizes surround us, but the only cowboy I care about is the one standing next to me, holding me close. One of his hands holds mine while the other holds onto his vest.

Brown leather chaps worn over his jeans mold to his form, and my mouth salivates at the sight of him. Wes’ red, long sleeved shirt fits snugly across his shoulders, and I can’t help but remember holding onto those shoulders as we made love in the loft of the barn last night and into this morning. I’m sure that if I pulled the collar of his shirt back and took a peek, there would be red streaks where I scratched at him. My favorite part of what he’s wearing sits on top of that gorgeous, blond hair, a black, fitted, suede cowboy hat, and a thin, black band wrapping around it.