Page 142 of Wyatt
Cash ordered the T-shirts, Sawyer picked up the champagne, and I wrote draft after draft of the things I wanted to say to her in front of our families and friends.
Feels a lot like a marriage proposal. But I don’t mind that one bit. Figure the more practice I have, the better I’m gonna be when I do pop the big question.
If I had my way, I’d pop it sooner rather than later. I figure we’ll see how tonight goes, and I’ll come up with a plan from there.
Sawyer chuckles. “Ella is gonna lose her damn mind. Speaking of, I’m gonna run and grab her from the sitter. Meet y’all at the house in fifteen?”
“Sounds good. And Sawyer?” I ask.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.” I swallow. “Thank all y’all.”
“I get the farmhouse when he leaves,” Ryder says.
He and Duke are still living in the bunkhouse while renovations start on some potential housing for them on our family’s side of the ranch.
Duke shakes his head. “You’re gonna have to fight me for it.”
“I’m still here,” I say.
Ryder pulls me in for a hug. “You ready?”
“I’ve been ready for years. Let’s do this thing.”
Sawyer takes his truck to his place while the rest of us pile into one of Lucky River Ranch’s new F-350s and head to the New House. I’ve been using this truck all day, which explains why my thermos is in the cupholder and my Beretta rifle is underneath the seat.
Duke puts on *NSYNC and cranks the volume. “You’re welcome, Ryder.”
“Dude, shut up.”
“Twenty bucks says you’ll be singing the chorus by the time we get to the house.”
“That’s twenty bucks you’re gonna lose.”
Duke, being Duke, sings at the top of his lungs when the “Bye Bye Bye” chorus comes on. I join in, laughing, and lo and behold, Ryder joins in, too, all three of us smiling like the idiots we are as we drive through the autumn twilight.
Sounds stupid, but I feel like my heart grows wings. I could fly I’m so happy.
I could fly because I’m free.
No more hiding. No more running in circles, trying to stay busy so I don’t have to face my past or the fact that I let the girl I love go.
Funny how I found that freedom in commitment. That’s truth for you, I guess. No matter what your truth looks like, if you’re living it, you’re gonna feel good.
Really fucking good.
We pass the corral and the horse barn. Frowning, I turn down the music when I see that the barn’s floodlights are on. They operate on motion sensors, meaning they only come on when there’s movement nearby.
“Y’all were at the barn last, right?” I ask my brothers.
Duke glances out his window. “Left not an hour ago. No one’s supposed to be out there.”
I point at the barn. “Let’s check it out real quick.”
My brother guides the truck down the hill and into the little valley where the corral and barn sit.
My stomach somersaults when I see the barn’s side door is flung wide open. I put the truck in park and immediately reach for my rifle underneath my seat.