Page 120 of We Redeemed the Rain

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You’re just notacclimatedto country music. Any taste can be acquired.”

I couldn’t help but cackle at that. Then I shifted in my seat to face him, waving a hand down the front of me. “So can you see it? Me as a cowgirl?”

He hummed in thought, squinting.

Suddenly, he pulled his cowboy hat off his head and plopped it on mine. It was a little bit big and slipped down over my forehead. I pushed it up and flashed him a cheesy grin.

His curls beneath were matted and had the classic hat hair. Flat top, indented ring, and flipped-out ends. He nodded, looking back to the driveway. “I could see it. We might need to get you somethingother than a tennis outfit though.” He glanced down at my white, now stained, skirt.

“No kidding. I did not arrive ready to work on a ranch. Or stay for more than a few days for that matter.”

“So, if you turned cowgirl, what would you miss? About home?”

We talked like it was a joke, but the gravity of the question was real. To me, anyway. Had he been thinking about the day I would leave? I had. And I dreaded it.

“Being near civilization. My family, but that one’s a no brainer. The weather for sure. It’s so hot here. If I stayed, we’d have to build a pool so I could sit out?—”

Tag slammed on the breaks so hard, I almost hit the dashboard.

“What?!” I shrieked.

Tag stared straight out the windshield. “I just remembered something.”

“What?!”

I thought it was something bad, but when he turned to me the glimmer in his eyes was undeniable.

Mischief.

He looked like a little boy about to divulge a scandalous plan.

“I made you a promise.”

I made anuhhsound as the truck idled below us.

His resolve strengthened and he sat up straighter, leaning forward with excitement, becoming animated. “I made you a promise years ago. I almost forgot.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I said if you ever came back to the ranch, you were swimmin’ with me.”

My heart hit my Converse shoes. “Where?”

He nodded out my window and my gaze followed his lead. Tag had us stopped right in front of the disgusting, stagnant pond you could smell when you walked by. A small boat dock led into the pond. At one point, I’m sure it was pretty, but now underbrush surrounded it. The only way in was the dock.

It wasn’t far from the driveway, a stone’s throw.

If he had any notion that we?—

Tag unclipped his seatbelt.

Panic gripped my throat. “Whatare you doing?”

“Swimmin’.”

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