Page 47 of Knox

“What, exactly, am I going to do for the next two weeks?” Kelsey said, mostly to no one.

Tate sat in the driver’s seat, dressed in a blue T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and cowboy boots. He hadn’t shaved since they left Lincoln, and now a deep brown scrub of whiskers covered his face. He wore a baseball hat backward on his head and a pair of aviator sunglasses. “You could…pet the cats.”

“I’m allergic to cats.”

“Feed the chickens, gather eggs.”

She shook her head.

“We have baby goats.”

“Really?” This from Glo who sat on the sofa behind them, her feet up, dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a hot-pink tee. She was reading something on her tablet. “I love baby goats.”

“Do you like horses?” Tate asked, and Kelsey wasn’t sure to whom, but she answered anyway.

“We used to have a horse on the farm, back when I was a little girl. We’d try and saddle him, and he’d blow out his stomach so that we couldn’t cinch down the saddle. Then, we’d be in the middle of a field and he’d let out his breath. The saddle would fall right off, and us with it. Then he’d leave us stranded there and head back to the barn. I hate horses.”

Tate glanced over his shoulder at her. “Wow. Who’s us, by the way? Sister? Brother?”

“Half brother. Hamilton Jones. He’s from Dad’s first marriage. About ten years older than me. A SEAL. I haven’t seen him in years.”

She drew up her knees, crossed her arms on them, and propped her chin on top. “I suppose I could work on the new album. Maybe write a couple songs.” She looked at Glo through the rearview mirror. “What do you think, Glo?”

“Mmmhmm,” Glo said.

“We have to dosomething.”

“You could justrelax,” Tate said as he touched the brakes. “Maybe try to get a decent night’s sleep?”

He turned onto a dirt road, stopped, and opened the door of the bus. “Stay here.”

Where, really, was she going to go? Because as far as she could see was rolling green pastureland dotted with dark humps of cattle, rough-edged gullies, and the occasional tumbleweed. A real mecca of activity.

Tate unlatched the gate under the soaring log braces of a grand entrance with the words Marshall Triple M Ranch cast in iron hanging from the crossbar.

He got back on the bus.

“Are we here?” she asked.

“Almost. Another mile up the road.” He eased the bus through, then got back out and closed the gate. Returned.

But before he started, he turned, one arm on the steering wheel. “Listen. My mom can be a little…friendly. She doesn’t mean to, but she’ll get into your business, and…anyway, just brace yourself.”

“Your mom is here?” Kelsey asked, and something stirred inside her.

Wait, huh—

But he had nodded and turned back to the road.

His family’s ranch…oh no, she should have…wait,wait—

But what could she say? Turn the bus around?

Maybe Knox didn’t even live here—maybe she was simply doing what she did best—conjuring up a worst-case scenario. How terrible, really…

Oh, the last thing she wanted was to relive the memory of her dreadful panic. She simply couldn’t bear the pity in his eyes.

The ranch house came into view and for a moment, everything else dropped away. “This is your home? It looks like a freakin’ resort!”

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