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“He wouldn’t do that.” I don’t know why I’m standing up for Carl, it’s not like he’s eager to keep me around the ranch. Close as I can tell, he came pretty close to kicking me out of the car.
“He would,” Rhett says, “because he has.”
I scoff. “I don’t believe it.”
A halfway groan escapes Rhett’s throat, as though it pains him to talk badly about anyone. “He stole my last two girlfriends and ruined my college interview. The guy at the hardware store doesn’t trust me and follows me everywhere I go, and I found out he told the preacher some pretty awful lies as well. It’s no wonder that guy can’t look me in the eye when he comes to visit Dad.”
Comparing the two, I can’t believe any girl would pick Carl over Rhett. Looks alone, it’s a no-brainer. Sure, Carl is smooth, and he has the crooner’s magic about him, but Rhett, he’s got all-American cowboy running so deep he would bleed it out.
“What are you thinking over there?” Rhett frowns, but a playful glint shines in his eyes. “You don’t believe me?”
“Oh, I believe Carl might say some of those things. He’s pretty bitter. I guess I hoped he wouldn’t.” I think about how to phrase my next statement. “I suppose I’m having a hard time believing anyone would ever believe anything bad about you.”
Rhett leans forward, drawing his knees into his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “I guess the preacher doesn’t know me well enough to realize I never started a goat cult in Nevada. But both girlfriends, it wasn’t hard to sway them.”
“Why?”
He gives no indication that my nosiness bothers him other than a slight twitch in his eyebrow. “I’m not around. I live for my work. I make a terrible boyfriend.”
I roll my eyes, drawing out my sarcasm as thick as possible. “Oh no, a man who knows what he wants in life and is willing to work for it. What a nightmare!”
His soft laughter brightens me. “Yeah well, when I’m better at remembering pasture rotation than I am at anniversaries, it becomes a nightmare. And Carl was right there to help them wake up.” Rhett shakes his head. “Him and that blasted guitar.”
“You sound like a country song.”
Rhett pretends to strum a guitar and sing in a wailing voice. “My brother done stole my girl with a magic guitar.”
“I think you need to add something about your broke down truck and a dog.” I shove his shoulder, knocking him sideways in the sand.
He rights himself easily and brushes the sand from his arm. “What about you, Sunny? Is some guy waiting on you back where you came from?”
I’m surprised at how happy I am to be able to answer his question for once. Or maybe I’m happy to tell him I’m single.
“Not a soul.”
Rhett flicks on the battery-operated lantern and starts gathering dishes into the box he brought. “I guess I’ll cross runaway bride off my possible identities list.”
“What? Like you’re playing bingo or something?”
“Something like that.” He gives me a wink before returning to his clean up. “But I’m glad you’re not married. Getty was worried about that.”
“No, not married. Never even engaged.” A sneaking suspicion tells me Getty wasn’t the only one curious about my relationship status.
“I’ll be sure to let Getty know.” Rhett sets the last fork in the box before standing. He extends a hand to me and helps me up. With any other guy, I might expect him to make a move, accidentally pull me too close or force a moment between us, but Rhett isn’t like the rest. With nothing more than a bashful smile, he lets my hand drop to collect the blanket from the sand. A couple gulls call in the distance. What did Cookie call this ranch the other night? A sanctuary? It feels that way right now. High rocky walls of the cove to shield me, a cowboy willing to protect me, and for the first time in a long time I feel at peace.
Rhett starts up the trail for the bunkhouse, but I catch his arm.
“Wait a second.” I fall back a step, still a little unsure. “You’ve opened up to me in a major way tonight, and I haven’t given you anything—”
“It’s okay, Sunny.” The afterglow of the sunset catches his features in the most flattering light. “I wasn’t telling you so that you felt obligated to explain things about your past. I told you because I wanted to become better friends.”
“And that’s why,” I draw in a quick breath, hope gleams in his eyes, “I’m gonna show you my hair.”
The anticipation written all over his face falls into deep laughter. “Your hair? With that big buildup, I figured you’d at least be telling me your real name. What kind of fanfare do you have planned for that? Fireworks? A parade?”
He sure knows how to make me laugh. “I thought I’d have someone sky write it for you.”
“My luck, the wind will pick up and blur it. I’ll end up calling you by the wrong name still.”
