by Ali Olson
Six days just didn’t seem long enough.
Brock turned his thoughts back to his family. “When are you coming back, Ames?” he asked.
She swallowed, but didn’t look up from her plate. “Actually, I’ll be back in the fall, I think.”
There was a clatter as their ma dropped her fork. “So soon? For how long?”
Brock could see that Ma was trying not to get her hopes up. Amy still kept her eyes on her plate, not looking at their mother. She looked pale. “I’m not sure. It’s still up in the air.”
Everyone around the table waited for her to say more, for Ma to prod her, but both women remained quiet. Finally, Pop said, “We love having you here, you know that. Stay as long as you can.”
With that, the conversation was finished. Brock wondered what could be bringing his sister back to Spring Valley after so short a time, when for the past decade she’d made a habit of visiting once a year or less.
But, as usual, Amy didn’t say anything else and Brock didn’t ask. There was no point pressing her about it and the entire family knew it.
After breakfast, Amy said goodbye to Jose, Diego and Ma. Brock walked out with her as Pop started up the truck. Brock could hear Ma sniffing behind him, and she knew the woman was unsuccessfully holding back tears. From the expression on Amy’s face, she knew it, too.
Brock was glad his brothers were staying the rest of the day, or he knew Ma would be nearly inconsolable.
At the truck, Brock kissed Amy on the cheek. “I’ll miss you,” he told her. “If you’re back in the fall, I’ll try to be here. We can spend a little more time just you and me, what do you say?”
Brock knew that if given the chance, he would spend time with Cassie then, too, but he didn’t say it aloud.
“It’s been a long time since we hung out, hasn’t it?” Amy said, wiping away a quick tear.
Brock hadn’t really thought about it, but it was true. In middle and high school, they had been good friends. Even when he left for the circuit as she finished her senior year, they had stayed in touch.
It must’ve been the summer after she graduated, when she left for college, that things had changed. How had he not noticed that?
Brock wished he had realized it sooner, that he and Amy could talk before she needed to leave, but she was already climbing gingerly into Pop’s truck. Next time, he vowed.
“Bye, sis,” he said.
Amy opened her window and gave him one last searching gaze. “Be careful with Cassie,” she told him, her eyes serious and a little sad.
Did she think Cassie was dangerous somehow? He didn’t know what to say to that. Amy seemed to realize he was confused, because she added, “With your heart, I mean. Love isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be.”
Then she rolled the window up and turned to their pop, and the truck started moving. Brock watched, trying to absorb what she’d said. What had happened to Amy to make her say something like that? It was too late to ask, though. All he could do was wave.
She waved back, and then they were gone.
Brock walked back inside to find his ma sitting at the table with Diego. He had no idea where Jose was, but Brock guessed he was out at the barn or something. He never did well with emotions. That was Diego’s job.
“Hey, Ma,” Brock said, sitting on the other side of her.
The woman looked up at him and brushed away a tear. “What are you still doing here, Brock? Didn’t you say you and Cassie would be fixing the paddock today so she could get her horses home for good and all?”
“Well, yes, but—” he started.
Surely she didn’t expect him to leave her there in tears?
Apparently, she did. “You get along, then. That woman needs your help much more than I do. Go on, get!”
Brock stood, simultaneously concerned for his ma and happy to be going to see Cassie. Even though it had only been a few hours since he’d held her, it felt like much too long.
Along the short walk between the two houses, Brock’s mind wandered back to his sister and the rest of his family.
The concept of family had never been something super important to Brock—he loved his siblings and the parents who raised him, but it had never mattered much if he saw them twice a month or twice a year. Now, suddenly, he felt an ache for that kind of closeness he never quite got on the circuit, even with his uncle Joe coaching him.
Or maybe he was feeling the desire for a family of his own.
If so, it was just a temporary feeling, brought on by the amount of time he was spending with Cassie and her children. Nothing could come of it in the end, he knew. Even if he could convince Cassie to see him occasionally when he was in town, eventually she would find someone who could be the husband and father she and the boys deserved.
She was too kind and loving, and the boys were too wonderful in their own right for her to stay single for very long.
Brock didn’t like that thought one bit, and he was relieved to feel his phone buzz as a welcome distraction. It was Jay, texting him about the mines.
I’ve got five guys who want to go with us and all the rope we might need. Do you have your climbing gear with you? It could come in handy.
Brock’s climbing gear was piled in a duffel with his rodeo stuff, gathering dust since he got to Spring Valley. Just like everything else not connected to working on Cassie’s ranch.
Brock sent a quick affirmative, then put his phone away. He was walking up the porch by that point and didn’t want Cassie or the boys to see. He was worried Cassie would find out what he had planned and be disapproving, but he was even more concerned the twins would think it was cool and exciting and try something like that themselves.
He’d never forgive himself if they got hurt doing something foolish like that.
Inside the house, he quickly found the little family on the floor doting over their new pet. He was glad to see them all wearing their new cowboy hats. He’d bought them on a whim, and it gave him a good feeling to know all three of them liked the gift.
Something to remember him by. He quickly dismissed that depressing thought. He’d see them again. Even if it wasn’t the same, even if Cassie did find someone who would be a good husband and father, they would still be his parents’ neighbors.
The knowledge didn’t help much.
Cassie looked up and saw him, and the way her expression brightened as their eyes connected made his heart thump.
He was going to make these six days count. Solid fencing, a repaired barn, mended house and as many nights in each other’s arms as he could get.
“Are we working on the paddock today?” Cassie asked, standing.
“You bet,” Brock replied, and soon the four people and one rambunctious puppy were outside in the morning heat.
While the boys tried unsuccessfully to teach Freckles to fetch, Brock and Cassie began working on the fencing around the paddock, checking each piece of wood, using the crowbar to pull off any that needed to be replaced and nailing up new ones. Cassie never once complained about the hard work, and it went quickly.
Just like in every other situation, Brock and Cassie worked seamlessly together. In just under three hours, they had managed to do what Brock had thought would take an entire day or more.
By the time they were finished, everyone was starving and Brock was happier than ever about purchasing hats for everyone, since the sun had been beating down on them relentlessly the entire time.
After food and time to cool off, they once more braved the heat to paint the paddock so it would be completely ready for Rosalind and Diamond, who they’d decided should come home the next day.
Zach and Carter were reluctant to go back out in the heat, so Brock sent a quick text to his ma, who scurried over to take Freckles and the twins to her house for ice cream—and general spoiling—while their mother and Brock labored
in the sun.
By the time they were done, neither of them wanted anything more than a cool shower. And, since the boys were still secure in Nana Sarah’s clutches, that was just what they did.
That night, when Brock returned after the twins were asleep, he found Cassie dozing on her bed, the light still on. He was about to leave when she woke up enough to hold her arms out to him, so he turned out the light, slid into bed with her and slept hard until just before dawn.
And then there were only five days left.
The next day rushed by in a flurry of activity as Rosalind and Diamond got settled in. Brock helped Cassie prepare stalls for them in the barn, and they repaired anything in the barn they could get their hands on, all while Brock instructed Cassie on everything he knew about horse care and maintenance.
Another sunset, another late-night entrance, another few hours in Cassie’s arms.
Four days left.
* * *
CASSIE FELT THE days speeding up as the rodeo loomed closer and closer. They worked on the ranch and house at breakneck speed, as if Brock wanted everything to be absolutely perfect before he disappeared from their lives.
They continued fixing the perimeter fence and she met another new patient, and suddenly another day was gone.
Three days left.
Another day on the fence, and then they only had two days until the rodeo.
Brock went around the house repairing every stuck window, squeaky hinge and unyielding kitchen drawer while Cassie unloaded the last few boxes scattered around the house.
One day left.
The last day they spent doing little things and discussing a plan for purchasing cattle over the next few years. Neither of them mentioned that it was their final day before the rodeo.
When the sun began to set, Brock asked, “Do you mind if I tuck the boys in and tell them their story?”
Cassie understood why and left the room, unable to watch Brock say not only good-night, but also goodbye. She was sure the twins would need her once he was done, but at the moment she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep her tears at bay, let alone comfort them.
As many times as she’d reminded herself about the number of days they had left and what would happen at the end of them, she still couldn’t wrap her mind around the thought that she wouldn’t be seeing Brock anymore.
After a while, Cassie felt composed enough to go check on the boys. In the dim room, Zach and Carter were sleeping peacefully. Brock was sitting in a chair in the corner watching them. Cassie couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was as sad about their time ending as she was.
Brock stood and walked over to where she waited in the hall, shaking his head. “I just couldn’t say goodbye to them,” he told her.
Cassie felt hope rise in her chest. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?
“Is it okay if I come by the morning after the rodeo? Before I leave town I need to let them know I won’t be around anymore. You know?” he said.
The hope she’d started to feel deflated into nothingness. He really was leaving.
Brock looked at her, and his eyes seemed to be asking her for something, but she didn’t know what. Consolation? She didn’t think she had it in her.
She nodded. “They’ll be staying at Hank’s parents’ house in Glen Rock while I go to the rodeo—”
His eyes lit up and he smiled. “You’re going to the rodeo?”
Cassie blushed a little. “I’ve never been to one, and I have a cowboy hat now. And, well...”
I needed to see you one more time.
I’m not ready to say goodbye.
I love you.
She let the sentence drift away. He could fill in the blank with whatever he liked.
“And you’ll wait for me after? I’ll be busy most of the day, but I can come find you as soon as my ride’s over.”
She didn’t need to answer. Of course she would wait.
He seemed lighter, more relieved, but she couldn’t share in those emotions. Whether they said goodbye right now or tomorrow or the day after, the end was the same. He would leave and she and the boys would need to pick up the pieces of their hearts.
“But the boys will be at their grandparents’?” he asked.
Cassie nodded. She didn’t want her boys watching, getting ideas about bull riding if Brock did well. And if he didn’t, well, she didn’t want them to see that, either. Also, selfishly, she wanted her last little bit of time with him alone. “But we should probably be back by eight or so the next morning, if you’re coming back here.”
“I will,” Brock said.
They stood there, silent. What else was there to say?
“I better get going,” Brock said, not moving from where he stood.
“You have a big day tomorrow,” Cassie added, hating the inanity as it came out of her mouth.
Then, as if by mutual agreement, they rushed into each other’s arms, holding each other close, their lips pressed together as if they needed to concentrate hundreds of kisses in that one.
* * *
BROCK AWOKE THE next morning, more tired than he’d ever felt, as his alarm beeped incessantly. He’d come home only as the sun rose, when he finally convinced himself that it was time to leave Cassie’s embrace.
He stayed in bed a few extra seconds, wishing it was a different day. It was fruitless, however, and he knew it. This was the day of the rodeo. It was going to be a painful day, he was absolutely sure, and that was because he had two big problems: he was out of shape for his ride, and he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Cassie and the twins. The thought of not being able to see the twins every day, in fact, was turning out to be harder to accept than he’d anticipated.
After this, he’d be off on his adventures and back on the circuit, and the boys would go back to life without him.
Well, he could still drop by and see them, be neighborly, that sort of thing. It was little consolation when he knew what he was giving up, but there was no way around it unless he wanted to leave behind everything in his life that he enjoyed doing.
Brock had planned to ask Cassie about seeing each other again, even if it was just for a day or two the next time he was in town, but he’d chickened out. He wasn’t ready to hear her say no, and he knew that she would.
Brock sighed and sat up. At least he would see Cassie again that night, and Zach and Carter the next morning. If he held on to those thoughts and ignored the rest, he could make it through okay.
Brock drove to Glen Rock early to register for the bull-riding competition, and then he spent the next several hours with his uncle Joe. The old man growled about how out of shape he was, and how did Brock ever expect to make it to the NFR in Vegas in this condition?
Brock had no answer. He hadn’t thought about the NFR in nearly two weeks. His mind had been occupied with other things.
Once he was limbered up a bit, stretching his back to try and prevent his old injury from flaring up on him at the wrong moment, there wasn’t much to do but wait and chat with the other competitors. Jay came up to him immediately. “Brock! You haven’t been much help planning the mine exploration. It’s been like pulling teeth to get anything from you.”
Brock shrugged. “I was busy,” he said.
Every time he’d gotten a message from Jay, he either ignored it or gave a single-word response. He felt a little guilty every time Jay wrote, as if he was sneaking behind Cassie’s back, though he knew that didn’t make much sense.
“Busy? What’ve you been doing?” Jay asked.
Brock paused, not sure what to say. “I’ve been helping a neighbor,” he responded finally.
Jay raised his eyebrows and smiled in a way Brock didn’t care for. “Oh. I guess I should’ve asked who you’ve been doing.”
“Watch it, Jay,” Brock said, his jaw clenching.
All of the guys ribbed each other about their buckle bunnies, but Brock wasn’t about to let that go on about Cassie.
Jay’s expression didn’t change one bit. “Is that why your uncle is so pissed at you? Were you so ‘busy’ screwing—”
For all his bulk, Brock was not a violent guy, which was why he was as surprised as anybody when his fist collided with Jay’s jaw.
Brock stood there dumbfounded, not believing what he’d done, as Jay sat up from where he’d landed on the floor, rubbing at the place where Brock had hit him. The other cowboys closed in, and Brock knew that they were preparing to separate them if either one threw another punch.
“Sorry about that,” he told Jay, holding out his hand.
Jay looked at the proffered hand for a second, and Brock thought he might have lost a good friend, but then Jay just laughed, took the hand and pulled himself to his feet. “Okay,” he said good-humoredly. “Point taken. No more comments about the neighbor.”
Jay moved on to the topic of the mines, and Brock half listened. What had gotten into him? Sure, he never participated in that particular type of talk—his ma had raised him to always speak respectfully of women—but he’d never gotten so wound up about it before.
Of course, it had never been about Cassie.
Brock ran his fingers through his hair and stood up. “I need to go find Uncle Joe,” he said, more for a reason to leave than anything else.
Jay nodded, though he still looked a little confused about Brock’s behavior. Brock found it hard to care too much at that moment. All he wanted to do was go look out in the stands and see if he could find a certain woman with curly brown hair underneath a white cowboy hat.
Brock found a good spot where he could see all of the stands, but before he could scan much of the crowd, Uncle Joe walked up to him, scowling. Brock couldn’t believe his uncle was still that upset about his lack of preparation, but his uncle cleared things up immediately. “I just got the lineup,” Brock’s uncle told him. “You’re tangling with Freckles today.”
Brock couldn’t help but laugh. Of course he would be riding Freckles with Cassie watching. He gave up any hope of doing well in front of her. He’d settle for surviving the encounter.