Page 9 of Buck Me

“What?” I blink. “No. I can’t be officially a part of this. If my father finds out I’m evenhere, let alone helping with the application, he’ll lose it.”

“Let him be mad,” Danner says without hesitation. “You’re so damn talented, Becca. And I know you believe in this project. You’re already part of it. Just… let yourself beinit.”

I hesitate. The instinct to hide is strong. I've spent my whole life keeping the best parts of me tucked away, like being toocolorful might ruin his grayscale world. But the fact of the matter is, I’m not established. I still go home to my father's house at the end of the day. Granted, I don’t see much of him because he’s in another wing, but still. He won’t hesitate to take the reins and make my life impossible.

“Let me see it,” I murmur, swallowing past the nerves. “Maybe I can add something.”

Screech.

The sharp sound of tires cuts through the quiet and pulls my attention. I jerk my head up just in time to see two white work trucks pull up the grave driveway. They kick up a long cloud of red dust behind them. They’re hardly at a stop when the doors burst open with Kingridge brothers. The guys file into our space like a pack of wolves looking for their next meal.

“Hey,” Danner waves. “Came to take a look at the progress?”

“Man, you keep showing me, but I don’t see nothing,” Geoffrey says, crossing his arms like a bouncer outside a barn dance. “I see a chalk line on an open field.”

“You don’t see it because you aren’t trying,” Danner replies, voice calm but firm.

Geoffrey scoffs. “No, we don’t see it because there’s nothing to see. You know how much we’ve spent trying toeradicatebees around here? Now you want us tosavethem?”

“Stop,” Alex cuts in, already rubbing his temples like this argument has been brewing since breakfast. “We need to get this grant, period. End of story. So we can finally be done with Bellcourt.” He glances at me, then adds, “No offense, Becca.”

“None taken,” I say with a shrug, but it still lands like a pebble in my shoe.

Alex continues, “Danner’s the only one who actually knows what the hell any of this means, so like it or not?—”

“Or not,” Geoffrey mutters with a chuckle, and a few of the other guys join in.

Alex rolls his eyes so hard I’m surprised he doesn’t pull something. “Like it or not, we’re going to listen. Danner, what do you need from us to move this forward?”

“Well, for starters, like I told you last time, this is all Becca. I’d never heard of the grant. So you can’t blame one Bellcourt if you aren’t ready to thank another.” Danner doesn’t miss a beat, and his flattery makes me blush. He continues, “As far as getting the application moved forward, there’s a ton to do. With Thrusty the goat on the run again, we’re gonna need to start with a wire fence line to keep him out of the beds.”

That earns a round of groans and eye rolls. But the grumbling turns into movement in an instant. Before I know it, there are tools being fetched, gloves pulled on, and boots stomping over dry soil.

Two of the guys haul timber from the mesquites into rows. Another is measuring and staking the ground. It’s chaos, but there’s a cadence to it. Danner fits in more than he admits. He’s leading the helm and helping at every turn.

Danner catches my eye as he unrolls a length of graph paper and launches into an explanation of the schematic he sketched last night. His voice gets this clipped rhythm when he talks about land use and native pollinators. It’s like he’s tapping into a part of himself most people never take the time to see. But he’s shown me who he is, and I’m desperate for more.

While they work, I slide down onto a nearby bench and pull my sketchpad into my lap. Pencil in hand, I start tracing the outline of what this place could become. Raised beds. Gravel walkways. Wildflowers spill over into edible greens. Solar lanterns light the path. A bench tucked in beside a flowering vine-covered trellis, just big enough for two.

Two… Like me and Danner.

I think about the way he moves. The quiet command he holds. The way he talks like every problem has a solution if youjust look at it from the right angle. He isn’t just smart and sexy as hell—he’sthoughtful. Inspired. Steady in a way I didn’t know I needed. He commands a room not with ego, but with purpose. The exact opposite of my father.

All I want is for Danner to kiss me. But he hasn’t. He’s had two weeks, and the dude hasn’t even attempted it. It’s not like I haven’t tried. I’ve leaned in, closed the space, and waited for him to make the move.

But still… nothing. I don’t know if it’s my age or my father or some deeply ingrained sense of honor that’s stopping him. But whatever his reason, he’s wrong. He’s wrong to keep himself at arm’s length.

The Kingridge brothers keep slinging complaints Danner’s way right up until the break for lunch, and the field quiets again.This looks like nothing. Why are we doing this again? Rocks matter because…?

But I can’t understand what they mean. From where I sit, nothing is as it was before. The field that was blank just hours ago is completely transformed. Uneven red clay dirt now houses the hardscape to support the plants that could be. There are raised beds, boulders, and concrete blocks creating structure and taking shape.

Danner stands at the center of it all, like a statue of a Greek god. His hands are on his hips. His hat is tipped back, and his eyes are on the horizon. It’s like he’s already planning what comes next.

“Look at the progress,” I step beside him.

“Those guys can be real assholes, but damn if they don’t know how to get things done.”

“Don’t let them get to you,” I say, nudging his arm with mine. “The way you can make things happen is… impressive. It’s just a few rocks in the center of a field right now, but I can alreadyseeit. Imagine the vines, the flowers, the pollinator paradise!” Ireach into my bag and pull out the sketch I’ve been working on, smoothing the paper before holding it up for him to see.

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