Page 37 of We Redeemed the Rain

A bundle of material hit my chest. It was body warm and smelled like hay, sweat, and fabric softener—a t-shirt. I buried my face and scrubbed mud away. There was a hint of spice. Like he’d applied soap or deodorant hours ago. Smelled kind of good, honestly.

No amount of snowballing humiliation could tamp down my desire to do the thing I’d dreamed of doing since I was eleven years old. For the first time, I’d get to see him—reallysee him. Completely unobscured by moonlit shadows. I’d no longer be forced to stitch one midnight memory with countless letters.

I slowly opened my stinging eyes.

He sat there, watching me, wide-eyed. So many things hit my brain at once.

His hair was a sloppy, curly mess. Ash brown with sun streaks.

He wore a rain jacket, unzipped, with nothing underneath.

His body folded into his seat, long and lean. But he’d bulked up. The thin boy had given way to a tall, muscled, hard-working man. A shadow of abs peeked through from beneath his jacket.

His eyes were green or maybe hazel. The yellow cab light made it hard to tell.

His fist was pressed against his lips, still trying to hold bursts of laughter in.

There was nothing movie star quality about him. He wasn’t a cowboy you’d see on the front of a smutty romance novel. Just a perfectly normal dude doing his best not to laugh at the city slicker.

My heart spiraled and warmed, a lump of emotions lodging in my chest. A smile threatened to spread across my face, but I held it back.

Scribbs.

He was perfect. The flashes of memory all clanged into place as I looked. His face and aura fit who I’d always known him to be.

The urge to blurt“Hey! It’s Strings!”and fling my muddy self into his embrace warred within me.

A few seconds ticked by as we stared at each other. The muted sound of rain on the windshield, the blowing air conditioning, and our ragged breaths were the only sounds. Eventually, my throat choked out some words. “I am so sorry.”

He nodded, silently swiping a hand through his damp hair. As laughter and disbelief danced in his eyes, embarrassment swelled in my heart. Leave it to me to make a wildly idiotic first impression.

I suddenly whipped my head around the truck, sending specks of mud flying off the end of my ponytail. “Did you grab my cardigan?!”

“A…cardigan?”

“A sweater.”

“Oh, uh, no.”

“I must’ve dropped it.” We both looked out the front window as the gravity of the situation set on me. “I don’t have anything. Nothing to change into. Why didn’t I grab my suitcase from the trunk?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think you would’a made it with a suitcase. Do you”—his hesitation spoke volumes—“want me to go get it?” His offer rose in pitch and uncertainty.

“No, I would never expect someone to do that.”

That wasn’t true. I was completely banking on him to be a valiant gentleman and fetch it despite my feeble protesting. But no. He threw the truck in reverse and backed out, stealing the opportunity for me to wade through the mud for my face cleanser and clean panties.

My shoulder hit the window, leaving a mud smear, as the truck bonked back onto the road. “Are there extra toiletries at the ranch?”

“No.”

“Most accommodations offer that kind of stuff.”

“We don’t.” He shrugged. “You can use mine though.”

“I’m guessing you probably don’t have extra clothes?”

He tossed me a sideways glance. “Nothin’ that’ll fit you, but I got a t-shirt and some sweats you could use ‘til morning. Me and Jesse’ll get out here nice and early so you won’t have to wait on your things. We’ll get your clothes washed, too. That sound alright?”

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