Page 41 of Serious Cowboy

Or maybe that was him.

These past months had seemed to have both taken an eternity and had whisked right on by, but as he wrapped up his first full work week in a long time, he felt a sense of victory. He’d survived the ordeal of an insane vehicle crash to come out the other side when he could’ve wound up killed. He had a great deal to be thankful for.

His job. Tim and Amanda and their family. And Callie.

He’d never quit being thankful for her.

He glanced over at where she stood by the picnic lunch the Blums were serving this fourth of July. Tim had decided Brian was old enough to set off some bottle rockets, so the boy had been shooting them off nonstop ever since. Sallie and Kimmie weren’t left out, though. They each had their ashen snakes and lanterns to play with. The lanterns seemed a particular favorite.

Once it grew dark was when the adults would set off the more sizable stuff.

Amanda had used an old, rusted out tractor to decorate for the holiday, tying red, white, and blue ribbons to various points and positioning a hay-filled scarecrow wearing overalls in the seat. She’d surrounded it by haybales and some potted hibiscus plants, the crimson of their petals matching expertly with the rest of her display.

Zeke surveyed it all feeling this incredible sense of gratitude. He didn’t deserve these people staying by his side, didn’t deserve their loyalty, not really. Yet they’d made it apparent that he had it anyway despite all his anti-social tendencies.

His gaze snagged on Callie as it so often did.

She was the epitome of stunning in her pale blue sundress with what she referred to as its “swishy” skirt. He wasn’t sure what that meant other than how it moved with her as she skipped around, keeping up with the kids, but he liked it. He also liked how that specific shade of blue so perfectly—as if designed for her—matched the irises of her eyes.

The sun in her pale blonde curls practically glowed, too, making her appear almost like an angel on Earth. Maybe that wasn’t far off. Maybe she had been sent here from on high. She certainly spread sunshine and brightness wherever she went. She’d evendone what he’d previously believed impossible and beamed her light on him to the point that even the perpetual storm over his head had been given no choice but disperse and disappear.

Callie did that. Most frequently with nothing more than her chipper attitude and blinding white smile. Remaining gloomy and downtrodden around her was a challenge, one he’d long since given up on.

He had a project that needed completing, one that had grown larger and larger at the back of his mind. Normally, he wouldn’t put it off any longer than time required, but this one wasn’t his typical project. It wasn’t a hobby necessitated by his constantly fidgety hands nor was it anything involved with his house or the Duncan Ranch.

It was far more personal than that. He’d been gathering up all his courage in preparation for fulfilling this task.

But not today.

“That color looks nice on you,” Callie commented as she joined him, her skin glowing from playing with her nieces and nephew. “You should wear navy blue more often. It brings out those gorgeous eyes of yours.”

Zeke had never considered himself to be bashful or shy despite his introverted tendencies, but when she laid blatant compliments like that at his feet, he sometimes felt his neck heat. If his complexion looked redder than normal, though, he decided he could just blame it on the hot July weather. It was a sultry ninety-two degrees, after all.

“Uh, thanks.”

“Awww,” her voice rose into this singsong pitch, drawing a finger along the shape of his jaw. “You’re so cute when you’re befuddled.”

Then, he remembered something. “As I recall, you bought this shirt for me.”

“So?”

“So, what you’re finding cute is your own skill at shopping.” He couldn’t lie. Zeke felt a bit triumphant at this verbal back and forth they had going. He and Callie had somehow developed this method of communication that kept things playful, their “arguments” only a pretense. Callie called it banter.

It was too bad his parents had never developed that skill themselves.

Callie did what she often did in these circumstances and laughed out loud, the sound joyous.

“True. I’d say I have a real talent for it.”

“You do,” he told her as he zeroed in on her lips, all playfulness gone. But laying some intense lip lock out here on his best friend’s—and her brother’s—property wouldn’t be the wisest of ideas.

Tim had come around to Zeke and Callie having a romantic relationship without decking his best friend into next week. Once they’d established that they were back together, Tim had still taken him aside.

“Look, you and my sister are grown people capable of making your own decisions. I can respect that.” This had made Zeke feel relieved, but Tim hadn’t finished. “But if you ever breakher heart again, I’m going to have to punch you in the face, recovering from a concussion or not. Got me?”

Tim hadn’t been joking, either. Not in the least. And Zeke could respect that.

“I got you.”