Page 132 of Sunday Morning

He lifted an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “So you want to borrow my truck for an undetermined amount of time while leaving my farm stand unattended, so you can chase after a boy and his horse?”

Biting my thumbnail, I nodded.

Maybe I should have told one more lie. Did it matter at that point?

“Do your parents know?”

“My mom does.”

“And she’s okay with it?”

“Mr. Cory, I’m eighteen. My parents kicked me out of the house. I think your permission is the only one I need since I do, in fact,needto borrow your truck.”

After a few seconds, he stepped past me to the water spigot. “If anyone asks, I only gave you permission to use it until Sunday.”

I grinned.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

JOURNEY, “FAITHFULLY”

I mappedout my trip to Springfield and laid the highlighted map on the passenger’s seat next to me with my guitar and two bags of clothes shoved onto the floor.

After I arrived in Springfield, I grabbed lunch at KFC and drove to the fairgrounds, where workers were setting up for the rodeo. I was four hours early, and Isaac’s truck wasn’t anywhere in sight, so I parked in a shady spot, ate my lunch, and spent the afternoon playing my guitar, scribbling lyrics into my notebook, and catching a nap.

Eventually, the parking lot filled in around me, and people funneled toward the gates. I put on the cowboy hat and boots Isaac bought me and got in line. The stands and crowd were five times the size of Devil’s Head’s rodeo.

Bright lights.

Music.

And not a familiar soul in sight.

I found a place to sit at the far end, way up in the stands, surrounded by loud fans drinking beer and having a good time. For the next hour, I nervously watched the events. What if I was wrong? What if Isaac accidentally left that list in his guitar case, and it wasn’t for me? It wasn’t a map of his planned travels? Maybe he wasn’t going to every rodeo on the list. Maybe he wasn’t going to any of them.

With a fake smile and a hand on my nervous stomach, I watched the first roper come out of the gate. Then the next … and the next.

Until, he was there.

My heart exploded into tiny pieces of confetti, and I wanted to run into the arena and hug him. It was the first time I watched the whole thing, even when he tied the calf and headed back to his horse with a smile for the crowd while he adjusted his black cowboy hat.

“Excuse me. Pardon me. Oops. Sorry.” I made my way out of the stands and ran toward the trucks and trailers. There weresomany, and they all started to look the same.

“Nice job!”

I turned as a woman down one of the rows jogged toward a guy—toward Isaac—while he loaded his horse into the trailer. I inhaled, and it made my grin swell as I headed toward his truck. But then I stopped because the brunette threw her arms around his neck and he hugged her back, lifting her off the ground. That’s when his gaze met mine, so I turned on my heel and walked away as fast as possible, hoping he didn’t notice it was me. After all, I wore a hat, and the sun had begun to set, leaving that part of the fairgrounds rather dark.

“Sarah?”

He saw me, so I took off running, losing my hat. When I turned to grab it, he was gaining on me, so I abandoned the hat and trucked my way toward the nearest exit.

I was not his girl. I was justagirl like Danielle and probably a long list of others. My parents would be waiting to say, “I told you so,” but I wasn’t going home. I didn’t know where I would go, but not home.

“Sarah, stop.”

Oof! Ouch!

I tripped.Stupid boots!