Page 29 of Love You Already
“We're taking a break. I see a spot that could use some checking. Come with me,” he says as he secures the horse to a post.
I follow him as he grabs his tool kit, then we move over to the fence. Each step of what he does has a purpose. Every movement is intentional. It reminds me of the way we train on the ice. There isn't a single stretch or shot that doesn't serve to get us further to the goal.
“You know, I used to watch you on the ice with awe. I was stupid excited when Houston swooped you up. It meant that I might actually get to see you play. I'd planned to wrangle Nate or Bridgett into going with me. Nate wouldn't want to since he hates the city. Bridgett might have gone, but she makes such a fuss over how cold it is that I would have been distracted. Made that mistake once.”
I nod along to his words despite not knowing where he's planning to take this. He's clearly got a point. I'm just not sure what the hell it is.
“Of all my siblings, you'll notice I didn't mention Rose once. She's not a sports girl. If it didn't involve bull riding, she wasn't about it. That girl wanted to be so much like Nate that she couldn't wait for the moment she aged up to fully ride like him. And the minute he was injured, she started making an exit strategy. She didn't have to even tell us. We all knew it was coming. We didn't know when though.”
“Makes sense. We tend to replicate the movements of our idols. Rose has only said good things about you all. Still, I can tell Nate's her favorite.”
Beckett grins at my honesty. “Oh, trust me, I know. Can't say I blame her. Bridgett and I were a mess for a bit there. We couldn't stand being apart for more than a few hours, which meant we were glued to each other's hips most of the time. That left Nate on his own until Rose was born. Then he took over helping with her when Mama died to help Dad out. He treated her like she was his kid until she was old enough to get around on her own. I think those memories are ingrained in our Rosie. She doesn't remember it, but her soul does. It ties her to him. Keeps them close even when they don't say a word to one another. Their own sort of telepathy.”
“I believe it,” I say as I think back to the breakfast. They did have a couple of moments where an entire discussion went down without a word being said aloud.
He nods as he tugs on the wired fence. “Right. Normally it would be Nate out here with you, but since he's at the garage, I'll have to ask. What do you want from Rose? Are you trying to string her along or something? Or is this like real for you? I don't think my sister is the type to get hurt easily. She rode bulls for a living up until a few months ago. But I do think her heart is softer than she lets anyone believe.”
“You don't have to worry about me hurting her. I'd rather cut my own heart out than see her receive even an ounce of pain from me. As for our relationship, I don't think I should be telling you much. Here’s what I will say: I've made my desire to have something more with her, to have something real, clear. She's still undecided, hence why we didn't rush for any paperwork to dissolve this marriage.”
“Plus, there's the whole fake dating thing. I heard about Verle's plan to get Rose dating.”
“Verle? I had a Verle help me get settled in my rental. What are the chances they're the same person?” I ask absently as I follow him to the next post, where he tugs a separate line of wire.
He snorts a half sort of laugh. “There's only one Verle. I have no doubt she's going to be the one who helped you. And she'll be the one to come knocking on your door the second she realizes you're dating Rose. She's going to want to know all the details and she might even inquire about your wedding date. I don't want you shocked since it doesn't seem like you're used to small town life.”
“That's for Rose to decide. I'm not going to force anything on her, like I said. Plus, I think just telling Verle it's not her business should be enough.”
Beckett's movements come to a standstill. His head swivels slowly my way, his gaze solid and serious. “Under no circumstances do you say it like that. We're good old boys here. Nothing besides 'yes ma'am' and 'thank you, ma'am' will do when talking to her. Let Ms. Verle think she's got the lead on things. She'll be more than happy to give you her advice on a happy life here in Firefly Cove.”
I shake my head at him. “You're telling me it's best for me to simply ignore her input and treat it as if I'm going to listen? Isn't that lying?”
“Lying, schmying. You don't want to face the wrath of Verle and her minions. They'll come after you so quickly you won't know up from down. Forget about playing hockey. She's a vicious old thing.”
The tremble in his voice would make me think he's scared, but the smirk tells me otherwise. He's teasing me, making me think this woman is something scarier than she is.
“But seriously, Lachlan, I have to suggest you don't be that brash with Ms. Verle. Tell her you appreciate her help and wisdom. Make her think you're considering it. Then move on with what you actually want to do. That's what we all do.”
From there, he considers the conversation finished as he dives into an instructional tutorial of what he's been doing to fix the fence. I guess I pass whatever test he was trying to administer to me.
Beckett speaks about a million miles an hour as he tells me about what to look out for. He coaches me through the process of not only fixing the fence but rebuilding when it's bigger than a simple break in the wire.
By the time he saddles back up and I climb on the four-wheeler, I'm feeling less like a fraud and a bit more like I could do this for real. I could be a cowboy. Maybe even ride a horse if I put my mind to it.
We ride a good portion of the fence before he tells me we need to trade out his horse for a work truck. We're short on supplies and in need of fuel.
“Follow me back. We're getting a truck. I like you enough to let you ride,” he jokes before spinning around and galloping toward the barn. I follow at a good pace, then park it inside where I got it from.
I walk outside to find him talking to another man as he runs his hand down the side of the horse. As I approach, all eyes turn my way. I lift my hands to show I mean no harm.
“Take good care of him. I need to get back to it, yeah,” Beckett tells the ranch hand before kissing the side of his stallion and throwing an arm over my shoulder. “Come on, bud. I've got you. We need to load up and get back to it.”
I spend the rest of the day working side by side with my brother-in-law after we acquire a farm truck to pick up where we left off. He realizes somewhere in the second hour that he owns that title now, and he refuses to let me call him anything other than brother, little bro, or BIL — short for brother-in-law. I don't complain one bit since this is something like a new phenomenon for me. Being raised as an only child, I don't quite understand sibling bonds. Hanging out with Beckett gives me some insight though.
“You've earned yourself some grub. Let's break for dinner.” His words have me shaking from my daze. I realize the sun is definitely in a setting position, and I'm soaked through. Sweat pours off me, my hands are sore, and I can't remember the last time I ate anything. As if it understands, my stomach growls loudly.
“Guess it's a good thing we're going to eat.” I shake my head as Beckett breaks into a gut busting laugh. He leads us up to the bunkhouse, a title I remember from my tour. As we step inside, the men greet us with head nods as they shove massive burritos down. If they worked nearly as hard as we did today, I could understand the need to stuff one's face.
Per the grunted instructions from one of the ranch hands, Clyde, we make up our burritos then blend in with the others as we eat and talk about the day's progress. Beckett looks like a natural, his words and body language at ease. These men treat him like family, not like a boss. It's fascinating to watch.