Page 57 of Knox
“He had a heart attack. In one of the back fields. He was riding fence all alone and he couldn’t get to the radio in time. Ma got worried when he didn’t come back before dark and sent out the hired man and a few other guys we had working for us at the time. They found him about four hours later.”
He finished the cookie, brushed off his hands. “I should have been there. I was off competing in a rodeo that weekend. I won, but…we always rode fence together and if I’d been home…”
She longed to reach out, to touch his arm, tell him exactly what his mother had said. “You’re too hard on yourself.”
Oh. Whoops, she hadn’t exactly meant for it to slide out, but he looked at her. Frowned.
“Sorry. I just think…well, I know what it feels like to be driven by the need to do something, anything, to get your head out of the grief. To see your past in your rearview mirror and your destination in front of you and never feel like you really move forward. It’s exhausting.”
He was simply staring at her. Then, slowly he nodded. “Yes, it is.”
She smiled, and he smiled back, his beautiful eyes in hers, holding her—willingly—a little hostage. Her heart gave another tug, something powerful, as if adjusting for room inside.
“Would you…would you like to have some…fun?” He made a smile, almost a grimace, as if it might be a terrible idea.
And she didn’t help with her surprised,“Fun?”
“With me?”
“With you?” What was wrong with her? She’d suddenly lost her ability to comprehend, apparently.
“What? Is that such a crazy idea, to go out with an old, safe, nice guy and expect some fun?”
Now she really had no idea what he was talking about. “Uh…no. Yes, I mean—” She made a face, tipped his hat down over her eyes. “I’d love some fun, cowboy.”
He grinned then, his eyes twinkling, something almost…mischievous? in them. And she had the first sense that maybe Knox Marshall wasn’t quite as safe as she thought.
At least not to her heart.
Would you like to have some…fun?Knox’s own stupid words rang in his ears as he sat in the Bulldog Saloon, wishing he could slink out and floor it back to the Triple M. What on earth had he been thinking?
Kelsey didn’t like crowds. So what did he do? Bring Kelsey to the only packed hot spot in all of Geraldine. Dancers jammed the wooden floor in front of the stage, swinging and two-stepping to a cover of a Brad Paisley song. The entire place was alive, buzzing with shouts from the guys playing pool behind him, people cheering the hockey game playing on the flat-screen televisions over the bar.
And in the middle of the chaos, Kelsey sat beside him and nursed a lemonade, her expression suggesting she was parked a million miles from Geraldine, Montana.
Worse, he wasn’t helping. Because apparently, hehadforgotten how to have fun. Knox sat on the winged bar chair like he’d suddenly entered a foreign world, never smelled the tangy craft beers, the sizzling steaks, never heard country music in his life. Forgotten how to talk around a pretty woman.
Although in his defense, Kelsey had pretty much swept his breath from his chest tonight when she showed up wearing a short black V-necked dress, her turquoise boots, her hair down and tousled, shiny and smelling like something floral. It was all he could do to keep his eyes on the road as he drove them into town, Tate and Glo in the back seat.
Frankly, his neck was so stiff it would probably shatter if the crooner on stage hit a high note.
C’mon, Knox, loosen up.
He’d thought the old watering hole in town might be the perfect place for them to relax, sink into the music, comforting eats, and anonymity of a small-town crowd.
Except he forgot Kelsey was a country music star—or on her way. She probably thought this was small town and provincial compared to the raucous stadiums where she played.
And all that pressure had glued him to the bar seat at the table. Which only confirmed that he was not only Safe and Nice but Small Town, and if he summed it all up…Boring, with a capital B, all exclamation points.
I’d love some fun, cowboy.
Knox would give about anything to have Tate’s easygoing, nothing-hit-him demeanor. His brother sat across the table, his chair turned backward, leaning on the back, nursing a long-necked beer.
Glo sat next to him, bobbing her head to the music.
Shoot. Knox did know how to have fun. Maybe too much fun, once upon a time. But still, ofcoursehe knew how to break loose, let go…
Okay, maybe it had been a serious while since he’d hung out at the Bulldog Saloon. Hadn’t even realized the former owners had sold out to new management. The century-old watering hole had undergone a makeover, including a new speaker system for the stage in front. New ironwork lighting hung from weathered beams, and the makeover had opened the walls to the copper brewery tanks now housed in the former livery stable. Tufted leather high chairs replaced the previous tractor seat barstools and were now pushed up to the freshly stained and polished oak bar.