Page 95 of Knox
Her soft words put a dent in his anger. He pursed his lips. “Fine. Yes, I know.” He blew out a breath. “Shoot. Bro, I didn’t mean that—”
“I think you did. I think you’ve been spoiling for this fight for over ten years. You want to finish it, we can.”
Reuben recoiled. Drew in a breath.
“Geez, you just can’t say you’re sorry, can you?” Reuben snapped.
“And you just can’t let it go, the fact that finally, I was as good—no, better than you! Finally.”
Knox didn’t know where those words came from, and they hung there, ugly and sharp-edged, with everyone staring at him.
The air had gone out of Rueben’s argument, his face pained.
Knox shook his head. “Do whatever you want, Rube.” Then he turned and headed out of the den.
He couldn’t face Kelsey right now and what she might say to him, so he turned and headed out the front door. Crossed the grass to the parking lot and hopped in his truck. The keys lay on the seat, and he scooped them up, turned the ignition, and threw some gravel as he backed out the drive.
“Knox!”
His name lifted into the night as he drove down the road, not sure where he was headed. Just…away.
Except their land extended for a couple miles and by the time he got to the end of the gate, he felt a little silly, like he might be a fourth grader having a tantrum, so he turned the truck around and headed toward the airfield.
Toward the best memories he had.
Gilly’s plane sat on the runway, a red-and-white striped Otter that she used to herald smokejumpers to the sky and drop them over a blazing fire to save the planet.
He pulled his truck up next to the plane and got out, now breathing less like he’d been punched.
He ran his hand over the wing.You have the yoke, Knox.
He’d been twelve the first time his dad let him fly. Soloed when he was sixteen.
Just hold it steady.
I’m trying, Dad.
A truck pulled up next to his, and he didn’t turn as he heard the door open, the grass crunching under booted feet. Knox walked away from the plane, staring at their house tucked inside the hill, up to the Milky Way, and beyond.
“I’m sorry, Knox.”
He drew in a breath at Reuben’s voice.
“You’re right. I left, and you stayed, and you have done something amazing with this place. You’ve built it beyond what Dad could have asked or imagined. The truth is, all my life I’ve wanted to be like you.”
Knox glanced at him. Reuben had come up to stand beside him. “C’mon.”
“Okay, not your bull riding or football skills, but…you’re smart, Knox. Smart and solid and dependable and so much like Dad. I was so jealous when Dad took you under his wing after I got hurt. It was like you belonged beside him and I was the outsider.”
Knox looked down, shook his head. “Remember the rodeo down in Cardiff? I was…ten, I think.”
Reuben looked at him. “Um…”
“My first try at bull riding. Only then it was steer riding, but…”
“Oh yeah,” Reuben said. “I think it was my idea.”
“Yeah, but Dad was all over it. I remember you guys leaning into the chute, helping me adjust my bull rope, the bell jangling everywhere. You were shoving my hand up under the rope, Dad was telling me to scoot up, and I was sweating inside that crazy helmet thinking…I’m going to get killed.”