Rough Country (Tannen Boys 3)

“It’s not like that, Mom. It’s more serious, but we’re taking things slow-ish,” I tell her, not sure how to explain the way Bobby looks at me, owning my mind and claiming my body, even if we haven’t had sex yet.

“It’s not slow, nor fast. It’s just right and will take as long as it takes for as long as it lasts, sweetie. Remember that,” she says sagely, sounding like fortune cookie advice.

“Thanks, Mom. I’d better go. It’s a bit of a drive out to the farm, and I want to double-check on Unc before I head out. Love you.”

“Okay, call me if you need anything. Love you, Willow.”

The click is final, and I hadn’t realized until just now how much I miss her. Time has flown by in the few weeks I’ve been in Great Falls, my new routine becoming as comfortable as yoga pants and oversized T-shirts. But I’m not just lazing about. I’m getting out there, making friends and stretching myself creatively. Like Mom said, away from the city, I’m finding a compelling new view to explore, both around me and within me.

A quick text to Olivia lets me relax that Unc is doing fine at the bar, and remarkably, he is sitting on his butt, for the most part. As expected, he grumbled about my liquor rearranging, but Olivia sent me a picture of Unc tilting the stool back on two legs to reach the bottles instead of getting up now. The balancing act makes me nervous too, but I guess it’s better than laps behind the bar.

Mind and heart at ease, I feel free to focus on this surprise visit.

Following the GPS’s directions, I find myself stopped in front of a large gate that says Tannen. I’m so excited to see where Bobby lives because it feels like who he is, but there’s a tiny bit of nerves still swirling because he didn’t do the inviting.

Not leaving me any chance at backing out, I see a horse galloping toward me, a plume of dust billowing up behind it and a banner of light brown hair blowing on the rider.

“You came!” Shayanne screams before she even gets close enough for me to hear, but I can read her lips clearly.

“I did,” I say softly, since there’s no chance she’ll hear me through the closed window. But I nod and smile, feeling slightly surer about this.

She climbs off, letting the horse nibble on grass as she opens the gate, then spastically waves a hand to guide me through. Once I’m on the other side, she closes it and hops back on the horse. I follow her down the long dirt driveway, parking in front of a two-story house.

This is Bobby’s house, I think excitedly.

I want to explore every nook and cranny, study each room to see what makes him tick and what created this man who has stolen my heart. But Shayanne doesn’t lead me to the house, instead flagging me over to her.

I approach the horse slowly, having never been around them before.

“C’mere, girl. He won’t bite ya. Promise,” she reassures me as though she’s not sitting astride a one-thousand-pound animal with a mind and will of its own.

I get a bit closer, step by step, holding out my hand like you do with an unfamiliar dog to let the horse sniff me. He snorts, scaring me, and I jump a bit. “Ah!”

Shayanne laughs, patting the horse’s neck. “You really are a city girl, ain’t ya?”

I glare back and her grin widens. Getting a little more comfortable since the horse hasn’t bitten my hand, I work up to gently rubbing his nose. Snout? Muzzle? I don’t know the proper terminology, but it’s soft as velvet under my fingertips.

“Can I take his picture?” I whisper, not wanting to spook the animal.

With no such worries, Shayanne says, “Hell, yeah. He’d love to be your model.”

I grab my camera bag from the passenger seat of the car, throwing it easily over one shoulder and letting it hang on the opposite hip to take my baby out. Holding it up to my eye, I find the horse through the lens, framing the shot that I want.

Click.

Adjust and do it again. And then again.

As though he heard Shayanne’s prediction, he holds still and lets me snap away as many shots as I want. I even switch to my phone for a few so that I can do a quick post online of the shadowed contrast leading to his beautiful eyes which stare me down.

“All right, let’s get this show on the road. I can’t wait to see Bobby’s reaction, not George’s,” Shay says with another pat of the horse’s neck. “Actually, I’m guessing if you’ve never seen a horse, you might not be ready to ride yet. Let me put him in the barn and we’ll take the Gator.”