Page 43 of We Redeemed the Rain

A gigantic clip held my messy hair up—Tag’s shampoo was definitely not frizz-taming. But the spicy, manly smell of his clothing and bath products lingered on my skin. I breathed deeply every so often.

My brain bounced from thought to thought, worrying and wondering about him and why he seemed to resent the sight of me. Ever since he realized I wasn’t some random Meadowbrook guest, he’d done nothing but frown and barely said a word.

Speaking of guests…nothing about this place felt very hospitable? Now that I was properly clothed, I planned to take a peek around. Was I the only “guest” here?

The side door opened and Jesse stepped in. His smile was a warm regard, his demeanor as friendly as he was over the phone. His vibe was through-and-through cowboy. He wore an olive t-shirt tucked into faded jeans, a bronze belt buckle, and a cream colored felt hat. He was shorter than Tag, but buff, kind of stocky. Seemed genuinely kind. I liked him.

“Bea, hey.”

“Hi.”

A little boy was on his heels, obviously Jesse’s son. They shared the exact same almond shaped eyes. Jesse put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “This is Cade.”

“Cade, nice to meet you. I’m Bea.”

He lifted his hand in a silent wave.

Jesse got to the point. “Tag wanted me to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

“So, we’ve got a little bit of a situation. Cade and I are heading out on a trip today, and Tag needs someone to drive the sheep to the rodeo.”

Rodeo?

“I know this is a total shot in the dark, considering you just got here, but since you and Tag are friends, I thought I’d ask if you would be willing to try driving the trailer. He’s prepared to pay you for your time.”

He told Jesse we are friends?

I stood like a deer in the headlights. “Uhh…okay.” I had to coerce my brain away from thefriendscomment. “How long is the trailer?”

“Twenty-eight feet.”

“And the drive?”

“Four hours.”

My expression must’ve demanded an explanation. He rushed, “And it’s fine if you don’t want to, I just thought there’d be no harm asking.”

My gaze narrowed. “Areyouasking? Or Tag?”

His gaze rolled away with a smile, “Iam, but only because he’s too stubborn to ask himself. Deep down, he likes the idea.”

“Deep down?”

“Okay, if I’m shooting straight, he told me not to ask you, but I did anyway.”

I thumbed over my shoulder. “Is the 3500 out there the hauling truck?”

Jesse’s eyebrows rose, a smile playing at his lips. I guessed he was surprised I knew it was a 3500. “It is.”

“My dad is a truck driver, so I’ve had to listen to a lot of information about trucks.”

“Ah, nice.”

“I’m open to it, but I might need a crash course.” I took a sip of my coffee again, forgetting it tasted like toasted raisins, and grimaced.

Jesse grimaced, too. “Is that fresh?”

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