Page 19 of Spur of the Moment
“Hey!” I smacked him on the arm.
Rouge barked, coming to Bailey’s protection. I rolled my eyes at the grin on his face. “That means nothing.”
“Whatever you say, Huckleberry.”
I was glad the mood was lighter than how we left things yesterday. When I left Bell Buckle, everything I did around the ranch and the rescue was pushed off onto someone else. Bailey took care of Rouge and Red, adding them to his already overflowing plate. Any chores I used to do were shoved off to Brandy and various volunteers.
I felt guilty for abandoning them. The more I thought about it, the more it sunk in. My brothers didn’t leave, Brandy and Bailey didn’t leave, and they were all doing better than I was.
Bailey started the truck, letting it warm up for a minute before heading out. I felt the truck jolt with every bump the trailer hit on the dirt road. Thankfully, once we hit pavement, it smoothed out. Bailey turned on a country playlist on his phone, Colter Wall’s deep voice filling the cab.
After thirty minutes on the road, Rouge finally stopped pacing in the back seat and laid down, his panting quieting as he fell asleep stretched out. I stared out the window, laying my head against the headrest as Bailey drove silently. The only sound in the cab was the music and the faint hum of the tires.
***
I woke up to Bailey putting the truck in park and lifted my head off the window where my forehead had been resting to take in our surroundings. We were parked at a gas station, the pumps full of tourists and truck drivers.
“I’m going to check the trailer and let Rouge out to pee,” Bailey said.
“I’m going to use the restroom, if that’s alright.”
He nodded and grabbed Rouge’s leash as he got out. He opened the back and attached it to the dog’s collar. As soon as his paws hit the ground, he was tugging at Bailey. He was used to running free and hated being tethered to a person by a six foot rope. I couldn’t blame him. Sometimes, I felt like I was on a tight leash with my family too.
“Call me if you need me,” Bailey said before closing the door.
I grabbed the handle and got out. My body felt stiff from my nap, my legs already aching. Despite the extra bit of sleep, I still felt exhausted. I headed inside the gas station, finding the restrooms tucked in the back corner.
After relieving myself, I wandered the aisles for a specific item, my eyes lighting up when I found it. I grabbed the bag and headed to the counter to check out. Walking back to the truck, I found Bailey loading Rouge up and unhooking the leash. I got in the passenger side and buckled myself in.
“Looks like there’s a thunderstorm up ahead that we’re going to hit. Shouldn’t be too bad, though,” he stated as he started the truck.
Looking at the dash, I saw I’d been asleep for three hours. That meant we were halfway to Montana. It wasn’t uncommon for summer thunderstorms in the west, but hopefully, Bailey was right in that it’d be light. Driving a trailer in a storm could be dangerous, depending on the conditions.
“It’s a good thing we left early then.”
He nodded as he turned up the music, “Fast Hand” by Cody Jinks coming through the speakers. Rouge barked as we pulled back out on the highway, a protest to being stuck in the vehicle. I twisted in my seat to scratch behind his ear. “I know, bud. We’ll be there soon.”
He stared out the window, watching as cars passed us. I faced forward again, pulling the snack I bought from the gas station out of the pocket in the door. Bailey heard the crinkle, briefly glancing over at it.
A smile reached the corners of his mouth. “Sunflower seeds.”
I opened the bag, holding it out to him. He stuck his hand in and grabbed a fistful, tossing his head back as he popped them in his mouth. I set the bag in my lap, staring down at the seeds. “Remember when we used to shove our cheeks full of them as kids, see how many we could fit?”
He chuckled before grabbing the empty water bottle from the cupholder, twisting the cap off and spitting a shell in the hole. “I remember you stuffed so many in your cheeks you almost choked to death.”
I laughed, grabbing a few from the bag and dropping them in my mouth. “But I won.”
“It was disgusting that we counted them afterward, saliva and all.”
I grabbed the open water bottle, spitting a cracked shell in. “It was so gross.”
He was grinning from ear to ear, one hand on the wheel, the other arm leaning on the center console as his eyes stayed focused on the road. “And you tried toplantthem.”
“I watered them every day and they never grew.”
“No shit they didn’t. They were shells.”
“I was a kid! I didn’t know.”
