Page 50 of Knox
Silence from the man standing behind the calf until he too, crouched inside the pen. Put his now ungloved hand on the railing. Gripped it, not unlike he’d gripped her arm to keep her from falling.
“Did you know cows have feelings?” His voice hardly betrayed a hint of surprise, a casual Montana drawl that settled her racing heart. “I had a mama cow once follow her calf down the road a half mile after we weaned it and separated it into another pasture. She bellowed for hours until my brother Ford couldn’t take it anymore and put them back together.”
He followed with a low chuckle.
And just like that, she’d always belonged here, at the ranch, always known this man, always felt safe.
She leaned into it, desperately needing to hold on. “My dad had a cow named Harriet that had an amazing memory. She would chase me out of the field whenever I took a shortcut through it.”
“You lived on a farm?”
She nodded, looked up at him. He had the same warm, blue-green eyes that she remembered, and now she found herself wishing— “I’m sorry I didn’t—”
His hand touched hers. “What’s important is that you’re okay. And here.” He scratched behind Daisy’s ears. “Welcome to my home.”
She reached through the bars and put her hand on the velvety, stout ear of the calf and said the only thing that made sense since she’d left Texas. “I’m glad to be here.”
“Don’t get me wrong, bro. I’m glad the Belles are here, but what is going on?”
Knox had followed Tate into the pantry, just off the kitchen, his voice cut low as he blocked his brother from escaping the tiny walk-in closet where Tate had chased his late-night stomach growl in search of chips, or rather—yeah, a couple of their mother’s homemade cookies.
Tate stuck a chocolate chip cookie into his mouth. “Whaddya mean?”
“Kelsey. She looks pretty rough. Dark circles under her eyes. And what in the world areyoudoing with her?” And he didn’t mean for it to sound harsh, or even full of blame, but hello, one minute Knox was sending his brother on a search and rescue mission, the next he was telling him that Kelsey didn’t want to have anything to do with him.
Then he shows up with her two weeks later? In their tour bus?
For a second, as she’d walked into the barn, stopped at the stall and watched him birth Daisy’s calf, he’d thought he might be hallucinating.
But no. Yes,thank You, God,he still possessed all his faculties. And apparently the Almighty was still in the miracle business too, because in his wildest dreams, Knox turned and saw Kelsey standing in his barn, her long brown hair down around her shoulders, smiling at him, her eyes free of fear.
She could stay for the rest of her life if she wanted. But still, he couldn’t quite figure out how she’d ended up here, the beautiful realization of all his hopes.
“I’m their bodyguard.” Tate finished his cookie, grabbed a bag of pretzels.
“Right. And I’m Prince William—”
“No, seriously, Your Highness.” Tate shouldered past Knox and headed into the kitchen. The late hour pressed into the windows, the night velvety and sweet, the stars hanging overhead so close they could eavesdrop. Tate grabbed a glass and filled it with ice from the pull-out ice box in the fridge. “There are things you don’t know.”
“Then give me a sit-rep.”
Tate filled his glass with water from the sink. Turned, one hip against the counter. He’d apparently dug into his old clothes and pulled out an orange Geraldine Bulls T-shirt. Again, two sizes too small. “I can’t.”
Knox considered him a moment then, “Yeah, actually, you can. Why does Kelsey look like she hasn’t slept in weeks?”
“Because she hasn’t.” Tate reached for the pretzel bag, pulled out a couple knots. “She’s a zombie since we left Texas. Nearly had a breakdown onstage—”
“What—?”
“Total meltdown during the rehearsal for their new finale. Had to bring in—get this—country singer Benjamin King.”
“Benjamin King?”
“Nice guy. He’s the one who suggested I get her out of the limelight for a while. Said she could have PTSD.”
That made sense.
“So, she’s not sleeping. What else?”