She’s squealing by the end, and I’m not exactly sure why she’s so excited. “So that means you can come see the goats!”
A little taken aback by her exuberance, I am barely able to stammer a little “Oh” before she keeps going. “I mean, if you’re not busy, I guess. It’s just that they hardly ever all leave, and it’d be awkward if you came while they were here. And I really do want to hang out with a girl for a change. Guys are nice but they’re all my brothers and stink like cows and goats all the damn time.”
I grin. What the hell, I do need more of a social life than just hanging out with James and working with Doc. “I’d love to, Shayanne. Let me get cleaned up, and I’ll be right out.”
It’s not hard to get out to the Tannen ranch. After all, they’re on the same dirt road. Still, as I pass the BB Ranch, it strikes me how easy it’d be to turn into James’s drive, but I press on. I’m not exactly experienced in matters of relationships, but I do know that coming off as the desperate party isn’t exactly the best move.
Shayanne is basically jumping up and down when I pull up, dressed in jeans and a Luke Bryan T-shirt, grinning. “Hey, Sophie! Glad you came!”
Her energy is infectious, light and bright, and you can almost see the words racing across her mind, too fast for her mouth to say everything she’s thinking. “Glad to be here! You promised me some cute baby goats?”
“Absolutely,” Shayanne says. “Daddy says you can judge a man by his word and how strict he adheres to it. So I’d better get you over to these goats before the babes get too big for cuddles. Come on . . .”
I follow her across the yard to a small fenced pasture, laughing inside at her Daddy’s pearls of wisdom. She whistles, and I hear answering bleats that make me grin, but I don’t see the goats yet. “Are they shy?”
“They just like the grass over by the trees more, I think. It’s nice and cool over there. Come on, we’ve got about twenty minutes before my show comes on. Steffy’s got herself in trouble again, and I so want to see what happens.”
I follow Shayanne over to find an adorable collection of goats lying in the grass. Some of them approach curiously, including one of the babies, who bleats at me before licking my palm, and my heart melts. “Oh gawwwd, you’re so cute!”
“They’re all friendly with people,” Shayanne says, kneeling down and scratching the little one behind his ears. “I’ve fed all of them by hand, because I’ve been promised that these babies aren’t going to be sold for meat.”
“No?” I ask, touched. “Milking?”
“Oh yeah, we milk them, and I make goat’s milk soap to sell at the farmer’s market. Helps the herd pay for themselves. Daddy says everyone’s gotta earn their keep.”
I sit down in the soft grass, and a small brown-and-white fluff of a goat curls up in my lap. I’m delighted and immediately start cooing and petting the softness along its back.
Shayanne laughs. “Looks like Troll there likes you. I know someone else who likes you . . . what’s the deal with you and James? Y’all serious?”
I laugh at the goat’s name, catching the reference to Billy Goats Gruff, and renew my loving scratches behind his ears, procrastinating as long as possible before answering Shayanne’s transparently gossipy question. She could definitely use a lesson in subtlety. “No, we’re both just here for the summer. I’ll go to vet school in the fall, and he’s back to the circuit. But he’s a great guy, and we’ve been having fun this summer.”
Shayanne sighs dreamily, her eyes fluttering. “Oh, I thought you two were all lovey-dovey, the way he kept looking at you when we were at the fence. I just . . . I wanted to see something romantic, like my shows. Maybe there’s a chance for long distance in the fall?”
“I don’t know,” I reply, setting the baby goat in my lap down and standing up, brushing off my hands. One bad thing about goats . . . cute or not, cuddly or not, I’m going to have to wash my hands. “I guess I hadn’t really thought about it too much; just enjoying the ride. But he’s really something. Makes me crazy just being around him, always teasing and . . .”
I pause, this close to saying he’s amazing in bed, but by the look on her face, Shayanne already knows what I was gonna say. She quirks an eyebrow playfully. “So, it’s all just sex and games with you two?”
I bite my lip, thinking before shaking my head. “No, there’s, um . . . that, but we talk too. About the rodeo, about our families and our childhood, what we want to do with the rest of our lives. Just bigger life stuff too. It’s comfortable, easy to be together, he makes my heart race with even the littlest thing. And his family is amazing.”
Shayanne nods, looking a little sad. “Yeah, I don’t know the Bennetts that well. I was still little when the boys stopped hanging out, but I know they’re close. You close to your family?”
It’s a casual question, but it makes my heart clench a little at how welcoming the Bennetts have been with me, inviting me into their family dinners and their inner circle time and time again. It’s a sweet and addicting feeling to be a part of a family again.
“Hard to say. It’s complicated, it’s just me and my brother. I mean, he’s married, and her family’s great, and Jake’s a great brother who raised me by himself for a long time, but it’s different when it’s just the two of us versus a whole family like the Bennetts have or like you have here with your dad and brothers.”
We start heading out of the goat pasture, Shayanne making sure we close the gate behind us. “With how you light up when you talk about him, it sounds a bit more serious. I mean, meeting the family is pretty big, right? If it was just casual, he’d just sneak into town, take care of business, and sneak back out. Isn’t that how it goes?”
I pause as she double-checks the lock, her simple questions hitting home, and I realize that even though Shayanne is younger than me with even more to learn, she’s right. Somewhere between our initial promises of casual summer fun, I started having some more serious thoughts about James, about us.
Maybe that’s why he left so fast yesterday? Was I acting clingy? Maybe he somehow knew and ran in fear?
Does it really matter, though? I’m only here for such a short time, and he is too.
But maybe Shayanne is right. Could we actually do a long-distance thing? I don’t know; I’ve never tried to do something like that. Could that work? With us in different states, buckle bunnies at every turn, just a phone call to connect?
It sounds . . . impossible.
There’s a long pause of silence as I reflect on it all before Shayanne speaks up. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to get so deep—just making conversation. But . . . it’s time for Steffy!”
It’s been years since I watched any daytime soaps, but once The Bold and the Beautiful is over, I’m surprised when Shayanne shuts off the TV. “Wait, that’s it?”
“Well, yeah . . . just enough to keep you watching,” Shayanne says with a laugh. “Want to see my soaps, though? The ones I make with the goats’ milk?”
I follow her into the kitchen, where she spreads her hands wide, gesturing to a sideboard cabinet with stacks of multicolored blocks. “Here’s the batch I made yesterday. What do you think?”
It’s . . . I can’t believe this. They’re amazing. I find myself liking each soap more than the last, oohing and aahing over the scent combinations and packaging with funny puns. Finally, I laugh over For-Goat-Me-Not. “You should totally make a website and sell these online!”
Shayanne shakes her head uncertainly. “I don’t know. Brody sells these for me at the local fairs and farmers markets, but Daddy says it’s just a fun hobby to keep me out of trouble and mostly out of his way.”
Ugh . . . I don’t want to say anything bad about her father, but the more I hear about the man, the less I like him. “That’s not true! You’ve got some real skill here . . . beautiful soaps, some really cute graphics on these wrappers you printed out, and engaging jokes that make you stop to read them all before deciding. And you know what happens when a customer picks
them all up to read them?”
Shayanne is rapt, caught up in what I’m saying. “What?”
“They buy more!” I tell her. “Look at that guy, Dr. Bronner. He fills his labels with gibberish that doesn’t even halfway make sense, and he sells a ton of soaps! Maybe you could offer a buy-two-get-one-free deal and sell even more?”
“It sounds like a good idea,” Shayanne says. “But . . . I’m not sure Daddy would like that.”
“Well, you’re an adult,” I remind her gently. “Does he really decide what you do? How old are you, by the way?”
Shayanne blushes. “I’m nineteen, but yeah . . . Daddy says he’s in charge of me until I’m self-sufficient or married off. Of course, then he laughs and says nobody would ever want to marry me anyway.”
I’m shocked, and move Paul Tannen from my “maybe I don’t like” list to my “fuck this guy” list. “Shayanne, why wouldn’t someone marry you? You’re gorgeous, sweet, caring, creative, and kind. And fuck that, you’re only nineteen. Go into town and get a job so you have your own money and be independent. You don’t need to worry about getting married for years!”
Shayanne shakes her head. “You don’t understand. Since my Mom died when I was a girl, all I’ve ever done is take care of Daddy and the boys. If I weren’t here, who’d cook them meals, clean the house, pay the bills, run the house? This place would fall apart. I couldn’t just leave them like that.”
She shakes her head like the idea of being on her own is foreign, and I’m struck by just how different we are. I can’t possibly imagine the life she leads, where she’s a working part of the whole, but somehow she’s less than her brothers and her father. It reminds me of just how special my brother is. He never, ever discouraged my pursuits, and if it had been me who had the idea of making soaps . . .
“Well, maybe you can start small. Post some soaps on Etsy and see what happens. You could try it out and see if it’s worth the time and trouble.”
Shayanne seems to consider the idea, then nods. “Maybe I’ll try that. I’ll have to look into it, but either way, thank you!”
I smile, and clutch the bar of Goat-Tee-Tree Oil to my chest. “And I’d like to buy a few bars today, if you don’t mind? I’m happy to be a customer.” I gather two big stacks and give her cash from my back pocket. “And I was thinking . . . if you need help, give me a call. Doc’s office is just down the street from the post office. I can drop off packages for you or something?”
Shayanne blinks, then reaches across and hugs me tight. “You’re awesome, Sophie. Really.”
We head back out to say goodbye to the goats, and I’m strangely hesitant to leave Shayanne here alone, protective of her somehow since she seems so sheltered, innocent. “You gonna be okay until everyone gets back?”
Shayanne looks at me strangely, like I’ve maybe been sniffing something besides soap for the past half hour. “Of course. I may not be in charge, but there isn’t anything that happens on this farm that I can’t do myself. Daddy says that I might be slower than the boys at just about everything out here, but I’m a damn good farmer. And I’ll tell you a secret . . .”
She leans in, putting a hand up like she needs to disguise what she’s about to say, and it makes me grin at her as she continues, “I can outshoot, out-rope, and outride any of my brothers. On a good day, Daddy too. I ain’t all pies and soaps, mind you.”
I laugh, realizing that my earlier judgments about her might not have been entirely accurate. She’s certainly a little sheltered, but she sounds like she can handle herself. She’s definitely got a different life than I do, but maybe it’s not as bad as I’d feared, just different. “Alright, I’ll definitely keep that secret. On one condition . . .”
Shayanne raises her eyebrows at me questioningly. I point a finger at her, menacingly dropping my voice into a growl. “Every time you say Daddy says, I’m gonna smack you solid, and you’re gonna let me. I don’t give a rat’s ass what your Daddy says—I care what Shayanne says. Deal?”
She laughs, nodding sheepishly. “Deal. Do I say that a lot?”
I mock glare at her. “Only every other sentence! I haven’t even met your daddy, but I’ve talked more about him than I want to.”
She laughs, and I’m glad she takes it well. “Fine, I won’t say Daddy says anymore around you. Might be a hard habit to break; he’s always been such a presence since I’m mostly just out here with him and my brothers. God knows they love me fiercely, but good Lord, they smother the hell out of me sometimes.”
Spontaneously, I give her a big hug, and she hugs me back. “You be good, Shayanne. Call me anytime! Maybe you could come to town sometime? Maybe even do a spa night at my place with your soaps, and I’ll stop by the salon, get some good shampoo and conditioner and all that other stuff. We could do a girls’ spa night with facials, hair goop, mani-pedis, and lots and lots of junk food.”
Shayanne laughs. “That sounds great. Let’s do it!”
I nod. “Alright, then, you tell me when you can get away, and it’s on!”
CHAPTER 20
JAMES
“James, got a minute?” Mark asks. It’s been three days since I ran out on Sophie, each day worse than the last. By the look in his eye, Mark has had enough of my pissy mood, which is saying a lot considering how grumpy he always is.
“Yeah,” I reply, setting down the shovel I’m using to scoop cow feed into their troughs. I’m covered in sweat; it’s a lot of work, even if they are mostly grass fed. “What’s up?”
Mark tosses me a bottle of water from behind his back, leaning against the trough. “What’s up is you. What’s your deal, James? You and Sophie have a fight or something?”
I try to ignore him, turning back to my truck bed full of feed and wishing Luke was here to do it, but he left early this morning to go visit a neighboring ranch about training their latest barrel racer. “No.”
“Uh-huh,” Mark says, and I know he’s not going to let this go. He’ll sit there all fucking day if need be—the man’s got the patience of a marble statue. Hardheaded as one, too, and I sigh, giving in. “No, we didn’t have a fight. We’re . . . fine, I guess.”
Marks grunts and pushes back the brim of his hat to look up at me. “You ain’t fine. You’ve been grousing here and testy there since you came home after the festival. Hell, you didn’t even notice when Mama was teasing you last night at dinner. What happened?”
I jam my shovel back into the pile of feed, leaning against the truck. “Nothing, really. We had our date . . . the festival, fireworks, even the fight. You’ve heard about all that.”
“Yep. Go on.”
“The next day we uh . . . well, you know . . .” I pause. There’s limits to what I’m going to tell Mark, but he just nods, assuming my meaning. “And the movies, and lunch. But at lunch, I just got spooked.”
Mark crosses his arms, studying me for a minute before hopping up in the truck and sitting down next to me. “Spooked how? She say something, she looking for more from you? I thought she was heading back to school in a few weeks anyway, so what’s the big deal?”
Instead of answering, I walk away before leaning on the fence and yanking my hat off to run my fingers through my hair.
Mark follows, silent but seeming to know everything. I’m reminded of Pops for a minute, how he’d stand over me when he’d deliver a lecture about something I’d done. I guess I’ve always known it, and Mark’s shown it plenty of times over this summer, but he’s the one who’s meant to take over this ranch. My role in life . . . well, it’s less defined, which is just one ingredient in my current mood.
I look over at Mark, who to a casual observer would look like he’s studying a cattle stall, but I can feel his attention from out of the corner of his eyes. “Alright, so don’t laugh, ’kay?” He grunts, and I take that as the standard Mark agreement, so I continue, my voice halting from time to time. “So, we’re sitting at lunch, and she makes a joke about a man courting a woman from some movie. She thought it meant just
dating, and I explained that it’s a bit more serious than that. As soon as I said it, the thought hit me like a lightning bolt . . . some guy is gonna court her, marry her, have babies with her.”
I pause, and while Mark doesn’t move, I can tell he’s been listening. “And you think you want that to be you?” he asks, before spitting out onto the dirt. “Or are you thinking you don’t want it to be you?”
I swallow, and half shrug, half shake my head. “I had a flash of a picture . . . her with a baby on her hip on the porch, me standing behind her, hugging her tight. Like I said, it spooked me.”
Mark nods, pushing away from the fence to look at me directly. “Has she made any mention that she wants anything like that? She’s got big school plans, right? She’s definitely the type of woman with a plan.”
I shake my head, sticking my hands in my back pockets like I used to when I’d get in trouble with Pops for doing something stupid. “No, she’s happy working with Doc, but she’s already admitted for school in the fall.”
“So, what you’re saying is, you’re scared that you might want more and maybe she’s leaving you behind?” Mark asks, but doesn’t really ask. “Because if she’s not asking for more from you, and is in fact making plans to leave, you’re the one putting pressure on yourself. You always have these ideas about what people expect from you and bristle at the least bit of restraint, but most of the time, the only one with those expectations of you . . . is you. Maybe the Rodeo Rider is ready to settle down after all?”
I snort, toeing the dirt at my feet. “No way. I’m in my prime, with rodeo and with women. I’m off to the fall circuit, headed to Vegas, and then spring circuit shortly after that.”
Mark snorts, just like Pops used to always do when I said something foolish. “That’s what you’ve always done. Doesn’t mean it has to be what you always do. Things are different this year . . . for a lot of reasons. I’d never ask you to stay, but I think we both know that whenever you’re ready to settle, you’re probably gonna do it right here with us. There’s enough land, you can build yourself a respectable house that you could easily raise a family in, or we’d figure out a way for you to get a place in town if that’s what you wanted. Whenever that is . . . now, later, whenever . . . that’s up to you. I will say that whatever damn fool life crisis you’re having, Sophie didn’t do it. She might be the focus of your questions, maybe making you want different things, but the only one changing here is you. Sounds like you need to decide what you want and where it’s at. Go there and do it.”
Buck Wild (Bennett Boys Ranch Book 1) Page 17