I hope it’s Knox. Please tell me it’s Knox.
Kacey
My panties are not in a wad. You convinced me to get to know him, and I have been. At the ranch, with a horse between us. Until now.
Jessie
Ooo what’s between you now?
Kacey
Jessie! I’m serious, I’m freaking out here. He asked me out to dinner again, and I said yes. I’m in my house changing right now.
Jessie
Okay, just take a deep breath. He’s obviously interested in you, so just be yourself. Eat a burger, have a beer, no pressure, right?
Kacey
Right. No pressure. He just pulled up, gotta go. Thanks!
Jessie
Details! I want details after!
I walk out of the house and run down the stairs to Knox’s truck before he can try to come inside. In the middle of the living room is a pile of unfolded laundry next to a stack of romance books. I’m good with himnotseeing that. I’m stressed enough as it is.
As soon as I climb in, Knox rushes to say, “Sorry about the mess. I don’t clean my work truck near as much as the rodeo truck.” He sounds frazzled, and for some reason that makes me feel slightly better. I guess I’m not the only one who’s stressed about this “not a date.”
I look around, and it’s clean. There might be some dust and an empty bottle here or there, but if he thinks this is dirty, he’d have a heart attack if he got in one of the ranch trucks.
Mr. Fancy Pants here with two trucks.
“You have a separate truck for rodeo?”
“Yeah, most guys do. With the miles we put on and having a Capri camper on the back, it just makes sense.”
That’s fair, I never thought about the camper.
I spend the drive to town answering Knox’s questions about Cottonwood Valley and the surrounding area.
At the café, we make small talk until after we’ve ordered our food, then he takes a sip of his water before asking, “So, have you always wanted to be a rancher?”
For this not being a date, that is very much a first date question. I knew I should’ve picked a restaurant that served alcohol. “Yeah, I have. Even before my mom died, I was always out with Dad checking pairs or feeding the horses. I loved it all, even as a child. I never see myself leaving the ranch.”
Knox’s eyes go wide. “I didn’t know about your mom. I’m sorry. When did she pass?”
Right. Because he doesn’t know me, not really anyway. He’s tried to ask a few questions while we work with Buck, but I haven’t given him much.
“It was a long time ago. I was seven. It was a car accident.” I pause when he gives me a sympathetic look before changing the subject. “Are you close with your parents?” If he wants to play twenty questions, he’ll have to pony up a few answers, too.
“I am with my mom. She and my sister don’t live far from me. I was close with my dad growing up—he taught me how to be a cowboy. But when he and Mom divorced, and he remarried, all his focus turned to his new family. We rarely talk anymore.”
I watch his facial expressions closely. He doesn’t seem upset discussing this. He says it like it’s just facts and not his relationship—or lack thereof—with his dad.
“I’m sorry, that must be hard. I don’t know what I’d do without my dad.”
“I’ve noticed you two seem close. Although, I’m not sure how close you can be when he knew who I was, he’s watched me ride. You, however, had no idea who I was,” Knox says playfully. With a smirk on his face, I know he’s messing with me.
