The Natural History of Us (12 page)

“Got it.” The first full breath I've taken since Peyton dropped the boyfriend bomb at dinner fills my lungs as she and Cade stop a short distance away.

“Got what?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at Faith. Her best friend shrugs innocently.

“That I can't go around slamming car doors,” I reply easily. “It'll spook the horses.”

Peyton looks dubious but she doesn't question it. Instead, she rocks back on her heels. “What are you doing here?”

Ouch. “Now, Sunshine, when you say things like that, you make me believe you don't want me around.”

The truth? I use the nickname for a couple reasons. Mostly because I like it and because I know she secretly does, too. She just won't admit it. The fact that her new boyfriend hates it so much is simply a bonus.

“Why would she want you here?” Cade asks, sliding his hand around her waist and resting it possessively on her hip. “You got lucky being paired with her for an assignment, but that doesn't mean she wants you anywhere near her outside class.”

The hand on Peyton's hip flexes and Faith chokes on a laugh. Seems along with growing a pair, horse boy found some spunk. Clearly, he doesn't want me here and isn't afraid to show it. Unfortunately for him, things like that don't stop me. If I only ever went where people were glad to see me, I'd never go home.

But this does mean I have to adjust my strategy on the fly. I'd hoped Peyton wouldn't have told Cade about our project. That she'd be so confused over the time we've spent together lately that she would've hidden it, at least for a little while, and the advantage of surprise would be mine. His knowing proves how close they really are, and frustration churns in my gut.

Leaning against the Jeep, my gaze drops to the hand clamped around her waist and then away toward the main house. “Actually, as much as I love seeing this pretty girl's face, I'm here to see my father-in-law.”

“He's not here.” When I turn back, Peyton is stepping out of Cade's grasp, a subtle shift of her feet. I'd be lying if I said that didn't make my damn week. “We're out of feed pellets for the horses so Dad went out to get some. You actually just missed him.” She folds her arms across her chest and kicks the dirt with her boot. “You're welcome to wait if you want.”

An innocent offer, one I've accepted a number of times over the years. I normally tried to show up late whenever we had a team meeting or party, hoping to avoid an awkward conversation with Peyton, but I've certainly not been a stranger to the ranch. For some reason though, hearing her invite me to stick around feels different. Like gaining ground. Something that Cade obviously doesn't like.

Glaring at me, he asks, “What do you need with Mr. Williams?”

I don't owe this dude a damn thing. It's no skin off my nose if he doubts me—but I enjoy rubbing my relationship with Peyton's dad in his face. Cade has always hated the way he treats me like a son.

“I ran into the area scout for the Rangers last night at The Zone,” I say, referencing the local batting cages. “It seems the rumor I could go high in the draft has actual legs and I'd like his advice on a few things.”

“You'd really give up A&M?” Peyton's expression gives nothing away, but it doesn't have to. That she knows about the letter of intent has to be a good sign. Perhaps sensing that, she quickly adds, “Dad mentioned it at dinner one night.”

“I haven't decided anything yet,” I tell her with a shrug. “Hell, that scout could be blowing smoke up my ass for all I know.”

Don't get me wrong, I'm good.
Damn
good. But I gave up optimism a long time ago, right around the time I stopped believing people kept their promises.

“A&M is still a definite possibility.” I meet her eyes, wondering if I'm making a mistake when I say, “The plan can still happen.”

Peyton's eyes widen, seemingly shocked that I remember. As if I'd ever forget.

Back when we were together, our plan was College Station, me for their baseball team and her for their top-ranked Vet program. Even though we broke up, and the idea of her taking me back hadn't seemed impossible, another college had never been an option.

“You can major in creative writing,” she says, needling me the same way she always did.

“I could major in kicking ass,” I reply, giving it to her right back.

This right here proves my strategy is working. Strange, considering Cade is practically breathing down her neck and Faith is unabashedly watching us. Quietly, too, which is a shocker for Faith… and means she's capturing every detail.

“He wouldn't seriously give up the chance to go pro, CC,” Cade says, driving me batshit crazy with that nickname. “If he's drafted high, the money they'll throw at him will be outrageous.”

Which shows how truly little he knows me. Money has never been a factor. I've got enough of that already and all it's ever done is bring me problems. I don't go into that, though. One, because it's none of his business, and two because Peyton's mom steps out from the main house. Phone pressed to her ear, eyes shielded with her free hand, she spots us by the Jeep, and her smile gets even bigger.

Peyton's parents never knew we were together. I'm sure they suspected, but we didn't confirm it, and when we suddenly stopped hanging out, the teasing comments and amused glances stopped. The one thing that didn't was how
they treated me—proof that Peyton never told them a thing. If they knew, they'd definitely hate me.

As Mrs. Grace makes her way toward us, she nods vigorously at whoever is on the phone. “Yes, sir. That's an amazing opportunity and we thank you for thinking of us.” She nods again as if the person on the other end can see it. “Sounds perfect. Thank you so much. Uh huh, we'll be in touch.”

The moment she hangs up, she grasps Peyton's hand. “I have news!” Tugging her daughter toward the Jeep, she wraps her other arm around me in a tight hug. “Justin, it's always good to see you. You don't come around here enough, son.”

Dust kicks up in the slight breeze, making my eyes water. I return the hug awkwardly and step back, clearing my throat. When I glance up, Faith is watching me.

“You just missed Dan,” she continues, “But you should stick around. In fact, supper's almost ready—”

“Mama, you said you had some news?”

Peyton's mom blinks and then shakes her head, that enormous smile creeping back. “Oh, right! That was Jerry with the Round Rock Kick-off to Summer Rodeo. I'd put a call in to ask about sponsorships for our new school, and get this. Opening day, they're holding public demonstrations for the crowd and they want you to exhibit for barrel racing!”

Pure terror washes over Peyton's face. It's gone in an instant, but it was there.

“Me?” Her voice wobbles and Cade takes her hand. If I hadn't seen that expression on her face, I'd almost believe she were excited.

Mrs. Grace must think exactly that because she says, “Yes, isn't that great? It's the perfect opportunity to get the word out about our new riding school!”

Peyton opens her mouth to speak and I notice the tremble in her lips. I push away from my Jeep, wanting to help, even
though I have absolutely no clue what is going on, but Peyton stops me with a look.

“But I haven't trained in forever,” she says casually, or at least that's what I think she intended. To me she sounds scared shitless. Her refusal to look me in the eyes confirms it.

None of this makes any sense. Peyton loves horses, loves to ride, and she'd been desperate to get back to rodeo. That's all she cared about when we were together. Riding Oakley again in the circuit and proving herself after her illness.

I turn from Peyton's trembling lips to Cade's protective hand and Faith's quiet concern. Her friends seem poised to intervene while her own mother is acting like she won the damn lottery.

What in the hell is going on?

“Don't
worry about that,” Mama says, brushing aside my lack of training like it's nothing, when it's actually everything. It's a symptom, a clue, not to mention my only excuse to get out of this… well, other than my abject fear.

But she doesn't know about that.

“There's tons of time before the rodeo,” she goes on, happiness practically shooting from the top of her head. “Barrel racing is in your blood, sweetheart, and you said you've been practicing. An exhibition ride will be a piece of cake. Besides, I'm sure the others will help take a few of your shifts.”

She glances expectedly at Faith and Cade who both mumble halfhearted agreement. Faith offers me a shoulder shrug and Cade squeezes my fingertips.

“It's not like a full on rodeo,” Mama continued, completely unaware of my dilemma… or the fact that I
lied
about practicing. “There's no competition. You won't have to outrace anyone, just ride well and wear the ranch's name on your back while you do.”

Oh, is that all?

Mama stops her endless march and taps my chin with her finger. “You've put so much on hold the past few years, baby girl, getting healthy and then helping us here at the ranch. This is your chance to do what you love again. To get back out on the circuit.”

The smile she sets on me is so full of life and hope that it's impossible to argue without admitting the truth—that I took advantage of their faith in me.

A couple years ago, I was given a clean bill of health, both from GBS
and
the accident, and my doctor gave me the all-clear to ride. My parents expected me to jump right back on Oakley and never look back. It made sense. My obsessive need to ride again had led to me getting injured, after all. They sat me down, said they loved me, and told me they were proud of how far I'd come. They
praised
my newfound patience with therapy, and through tears they confessed the last thing they wanted to do was hold me back from something I loved. Something I was
born
to do.

That was the killer.

How could I admit my fear and disappoint them? I couldn't, not after the pain I put them through in the hospital and then with my long recovery. Not when they finally looked so hopeful again. So, I did the next best thing. I hugged them both, thanked them for being so great, and then promised to start right away. Each week I gave fake status reports when
they asked, putting on a smile and creating a million and a half different reasons why it wasn't a good time for them to come watch. With help from Faith and Cade, who I swore to secrecy, it really wasn't that hard to do. Of course, their preoccupation with our struggling finances certainly didn't hurt.

And just like that, I'm reminded why I need to do this.

“You're right,” I say, toeing the hard ground with my boot. I can't look at her and lie again. “It sounds great. Really. I just, uh, have to check my school schedule…”

The jubilant hug she envelops me in nearly lifts me off my feet. “This is going to be fantastic, just you wait and see!” Releasing me with a squeeze, she spins on her heel and walks away, a bouncing skip now in her step. “There's so much to do. The rodeo is the day after your graduation, which means we only have two weeks to prepare… not even!”

Two weeks
.

No one says anything, no one even moves, until the screen door slams behind her. When it does, Cade tugs me into his chest. I go willingly, my arms at my sides, my head resting on his solid shoulder.

“You don't have to do it, you know,” he says, running his hands up and down my back reassuringly. “You can always tell her the truth.”

“And then what? Lose the ranch?” I step back and shake my head. “I can't do that, Cade. It's my fault they need the money. My medical bills did this, and the riding school is our golden ticket. You saw the research. Even with schools being a dime a freaking dozen in Texas, only a handful of them specialize in event training, and none of them for barrel racing within a fifty-mile radius. The school is smart business, pure and simple.”