The Art of Taking Chances Read online

  “Well, I better get back to the house,” I said. I had to get out of there before I branded myself in his mind as a stupid schoolgirl with an even stupider crush.

  He eyed me evenly. “You don’t wanna swim?”

  In the soft, shaded lighting, I could see his eyes were hazel, but not just a mix. They started almost blue around his pupil and faded to soft brown. They looked good with his darker hair.

  “I…” My mouth opened and closed with each attempt at an answer. Curt hadn’t said he was leaving. And I’d just planned on shimmying down to my sports bra and spandex. Going to the pool in an actual swimsuit made me feel uncomfortable. “I guess so.”

  Curt jerked his head over his shoulder like he wanted me to follow him and started walking toward the deep spot.

  I stood by Midnight, shocked. Was this really happening?

  He looked back at me. “You coming?”

  My head jerked up and down on its own.

  Sunlight filtering through the leaves bounced off his grin. “Good.”

  With my heart bouncing off the walls of my chest, I led Midnight to a tree and tied her reins to a sturdy branch.

  It was now or never.

  I started with my t-shirt, feeling self-conscious about my muscular shoulders and flatter chest. Then, I slipped off my boots and wiggled out of my jeans. Adjusting the hem of my spandex, I looked back toward the pond. Curt wasn’t anywhere to be found.

  He hadn’t run off, had he? I looked through the trees, searching for him, then saw a splash out of the corner of my eyes.

  He burst through the water and shook his head back and forth, sending a spray of water around him. When his eyes met mine, he smiled.

  I glanced back at Midnight. If only I could be as good at navigating these waters as she was the pasture. “See you soon, girl,” I said under my breath.

  I chanced a nervous grin back at Curt and stepped carefully over the ground to avoid branches or sharp rocks. I felt his eyes on me, scanning my body, and wrapped my forearms around my waist. Being strong came in handy on the ranch or in sports, but now, in front of a guy, I wished I was a little slimmer, softer, more feminine.

  Curt didn’t seem to mind, though, because he kept looking at me as I stepped into the water.

  “Better?” he asked.

  I bent my knees so the cool water rose from my waist to my neck. “It feels like heaven.” I waved my arms through the water, feeling it slip through my fingertips and soak through what little clothing I wore.

  Curt lifted his chin. “Tell me about yourself.”

  My cheeks felt hot, even with the water’s cooling effect. “Um… What do you want to know?”

  “What do I need to know?” His eyes seemed to focus right in on me, and I felt like I was sitting under a magnifying glass.

  I dipped my chin down so the tip of it hit the water. “I go to school at Roderdale, I’m really good at volleyball, but I like basketball better, and… I dunno. I mean, what is there to tell?”

  “Tell me something real.”

  I looked at him, studying him now. Something real. “On top of a horse is the only place I feel like me.”

  Three

  Almost afraid to see what he thought about that, I tried to gauge his reaction under my lashes. He had his gaze tilted toward the water reflecting the mix of blue and green above, then he gave a sort of half smile half shrug. “Well, alright then.”

  I stared at him but found myself smiling back. “Alright.”

  What did two strangers do in a pond? I hated going to the pool because I always felt bored and couldn’t just lie around for hours on end like some girls did. But it seemed like this water had become charged with nerves and excitement and every emotion in between, and I didn’t know what to do with that either.

  He ran both his hands over his short hair. “Wanna see who can hold their breath the longest?”

  “What?” I laughed. “Are you serious?”

  With a crooked grin, he said, “’Fraid you’ll lose?”

  I sent a splash his way. “Not a chance.”

  Chuckling, he said, “You’re on. Let’s go on three.”

  “One.”

  “Two.”

  A devilish grin flashed across his face, and my breath caught.

  At the same time, we said, “Three.”

  I dropped my feet from under me, pinched my nose, and plunged below the water’s surface. The world went silent in my liquid cocoon, but my thoughts ran wild.

  Curt rested under the water not two feet from me. He saw me in what equated to a swimsuit and hadn’t made up an excuse to leave. And he was intense, not in a creepy way, but in a way that told me he wouldn’t shy away from a challenge. From someone like me.

  My lungs started burning, but I stayed under, stubborn. I still hadn’t heard him splash above the surface.

  A few bubbles escaped through my lips. And a few more.

  Finally, the sound of him breaking through the water reached me. Music to my ears.

  I steadied my feet beneath me and pushed my head into the sweet, warm summer air. I pumped my fist. “Told you I’d win.”

  His chest heaved, between gasping for air and laughter, and my own mirth blended with his.

  A light, tinkling sound I didn’t know I had within me filled the air with his deep chuckle and floated past the canopy of leaves and branches. If this ever went anywhere, or if it went nowhere, I’d never forget this moment.

  He hung his head, feigning disappointment. “Fine, you got me. But can you do a handstand?”

  I scoffed. “Since I was five.”

  He caught my eyes in a challenging stare. “Prove it.”

  Raising my eyebrows, I shrugged. I bent at the waist and ducked under the water, pressing my hands into the soft silt and raising my legs until they cleared the surface. Air tickled my legs, and I wiggled my toes, showing off.

  I stood back up to see him clapping like I’d won the Olympics. “You missed your calling.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t exactly have the gymnast build.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “I like the cowgirl build better.”

  My stomach jerked around like I’d swallowed a school of minnows while hand standing. “What about you?” I countered. “Any special tricks?”

  He scratched the bottom of his chin. “I can eat a whole ham.”

  I laughed. “That doesn’t count.”

  “I can do a chin-up.”

  “You’re getting warmer.”

  He folded his arms over his chest, making his muscles ripple with the water. “Well, we can’t all be gorgeous and talented.”

  There were the stomach minnows again. “Come on.”

  He skimmed his flat hands over the water. “Well, I am pretty good at launching people.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “It’s true,” he said. “I’m pretty popular at pool parties.”

  “Yeah?”

  He grinned. “Let me show you.”

  Lost in his smile, that wide, happy expression that made my knees sway like the grass in a summer breeze, I nodded.

  His expression turned to that intense look, and he kept his eyes on me as he walked closer. When he stood about six inches from me, he turned around so I had a clear view of his shoulders. Of a black tattoo—a cowboy kneeling in front of a cross decorated his right shoulder blade.

  “Grab my hands,” he said, lifting them over his shoulders.

  I gripped them, and even though my hands were big, his covered them, making me feel secure.

  “I’m going to go under,” he said. “You put your feet on my shoulders.”

  My stomach sunk. It would be so embarrassing if he couldn’t throw me. “I’m way too heavy.”

  He turned his head over his shoulder and looked at me, serious. “I’ve got you.”

  Still nervous, I nodded.

  He plunged below the surface, and just like he said, I put my feet on his shoulders. He rocketed upward, more exhilarating than any
roller coaster, and flung me into the air. I hit the water and sank to the bottom, grinning even though I was in the pond.

  When I came up, he had a satisfied smile. “Did I tell you, or did I tell you?”

  “That was so fun!” A laugh bubbled out my lips. “Definitely a special talent.”

  He shrugged, and a silence fell between us. Anywhere else, I would have felt uncomfortable, just looking at him and him looking at me, but here, sheltered by the trees, it seemed like I could do anything, be anyone—even me.

  He lifted his hand from the water and rubbed the back of his neck. Holding his fingers in front of his face, he pulled a lip up. “I’m all pruney.”

  I held my wrinkled fingers out for him to observe. “Same.”

  “Let’s get out?”

  Leaving was the last thing I wanted to do. Getting out of the pond meant going back home, back to drama, and back to this life where Curt was the summer help on the next farm over and I was a manly girl no guy could love.

  “We can lay out?” he suggested like he was reading my mind. “Dry off?”

  “Yeah.” My shoulders relaxed. “I’d like that.”

  Four

  I took my ponytail out and dipped my head under the water to calm my hair. It had to look like a rat’s nest and a half right about now. Then, I followed him to the bank, almost feeling cold under the breeze. Through the trees, the sun hung closer to the horizon. It had to be half-past five, maybe six.

  Curt moved toward his horse, a beautiful bay mare with a wide, white blaze down her face. I didn’t walk too close to her since I always wore shoes around horses, especially ones I didn’t know, but I would have loved to run my hand over her coat or feel the feather soft fuzz on her nose.

  He reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a worn bath towel. “I brought this for me, but you can have it.”

  “No, that’s okay. I was just gonna lay out on a tree.”

  “No way.” He pushed the towel into my hands. “Mama taught me better than that.”

  Feeling warmer inside, I walked behind him toward an old oak. I knew that tree—the branch drooped low and wide, perfect for drying off from a swim. The branch had died years ago, and Rhett and I had peeled off all the bark to leave the smooth, white wood exposed.

  I draped the towel over my shoulder and rubbed gently since I already felt a burn coming on underneath my tanned skin.

  Curt swung up on the branch, and I followed him. There was enough room for both of us. I rested my back against the tree, spread the towel over my lap, and laced my fingers behind my head. He sat with one leg up, staring off at the pasture.

  I stayed silent for a moment, listening to the gentle swishing grass and the occasional snort from our horses. It was hard to still my heart when a guy who liked me sat inches away and I knew we’d need to leave soon. Mom or Dad’d come looking for me, and I didn’t think they’d buy the whole coincidence story.

  “It’s so different here than South Dakota,” he said.

  For the first time, I heard his accent, but I didn’t mind. Sometimes that southern drawl girls went crazy over just made guys sound dumb.

  “I’ve only been once,” I admitted.

  “Mt. Rushmore?”

  “When I was ten. I mostly remember being really cold and wanting to go back to that reptile place.”

  “Reptile Gardens.” He laughed. “Sounds about right. We live about half an hour north of there. In the black hills. It’s crazy out here without all the trees. You can see forever.”

  A small smiled played over my lips. “I know what you mean.” That was why I loved the ranch so much, why I always raced to get up that hill.

  “Think you’ll stay here?” he asked. “You know, after high school?”

  Ugh. After high school. “I have no idea.”

  I wasn’t smart like Rhett. I’d be lucky to keep my grades high enough to graduate, let alone get into college. School didn’t make sense like working did. Some of those “smart kids” wouldn’t last a second figuring out which animals were sick or learning how to fix up a fence that lasted.

  “That’s fair. I didn’t have a clue either.” He dangled his leg off the branch, slowly swinging it back and forth.

  “Yeah?” That made me feel a little better.

  “Still don’t. That’s how I ended up here.” He nodded toward his place. “Frank’s Dad’s uncle. He kind of did a favor to have me out here.”

  “But it seems like you know what you’re doing.”

  He laughed and nudged my knee with his. “You mean I’m not a city slicker.”

  Heat found my cheeks. “Well, I just…”

  “Nah, I worked on a ranch back home. But my mom wanted me to get out of there, see the world.”

  “And what do you think of it so far?”

  “So far? I like it.” His eyes traced a path from my toes peeking off the branch, up my legs, and locked with mine. “A lot.”

  I tucked a drying strand of hair behind my ear, feeling self-conscious. “You miss anyone from back home?”

  Every bit of me hoped Dad wasn’t right about guys like Curt having a girl in every town, but I couldn’t let my hopes touch the clouds without knowing how far they’d fall.

  He shrugged. “My mom, I guess. Dad. I have two younger sisters—a freshman and a seventh-grader. They’re alright.”

  Even though he acted nonchalant, I noticed the way his smooth forehead creased at the mention of his family. But that didn’t tell me what I needed to know. “No girlfriend?”

  I held my breath like earlier, waiting for the worst.

  The crease grew deeper. “Some girls don’t get the country.”

  That made sense. Other girls my age turned their noses up at hard work because it smelled a lot like cow crap and came with early morning alarms. Mom sometimes talked about girls not cut out for the isolation of the country, but I didn’t get that part. How could you be alone when you had a horse holding you up and the whole world splayed out before you?

  “What about you?” he asked. “No boyfriend?”

  I snorted. Not that I meant to—it just came out—but I went with it. “There’s not a guy in a hundred-mile radius even remotely interested in dating a girl like me.” That feeling right before crying pitched a tent behind my eyes, and I blinked it back. Cowgirls didn’t cry—at least not in front of anyone else.

  Curt stayed quiet so long I had to look back at him, just to see what he was thinking. I wasn’t above jumping out of a tree and making a run for it if I had to.

  But his eyes, hard and soft at the same time, held mine. “That’s not true.”

  Five

  The air grew thick, so viscous I couldn’t breathe or even begin thinking about what that meant. I jumped down from the tree, hoping the air might thin down there, and looked up at him.

  His brows furrowed, and he seemed like he was somewhere between confused and hurt. That look was all wrong on him.

  “Let’s play truth or dare?” I blurted.

  Gosh, I was an idiot. How old was I? Thirteen? And I probably wouldn’t have even played back then except Cheyenne made me.

  Curt’s lips faltered but eventually spread into a grin. “Game on.”

  He hopped down from the branch, landing softly for how strong of a guy he was. Coming to stand right in front of me, he said, “Truth or dare?”

  I jutted my chin out. “Dare.”

  His grin came easier now. “I knew it.”

  Now I felt dumb. “Fine, truth.”

  “No way.” He laughed. “You already said dare.”

  I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “Fine, what’s my dare?”

  “I dare you…” He put his fist under his chin. “I dare you to eat a piece of cake.”

  “Where’re we gonna get cake?”

  He shook his head, his eyes dancing with mirth. “Cow cake.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”

  Grinning wide, he nodded toward my horse.
“Come on. Should be a piece o’ cake. Ha. Get it?”

  He started laughing at the pun, and I hated that I joined in too.

  “Whatever,” I said, turning toward Midnight to hide my smile. “Fine.”

  He laughed at my back.

  I walked a few feet closer to Midnight then looked back over my shoulder. “Really?”

  He made a shooing motion with his hands. “Go on.”

  I groaned and crossed the last several yards to my horse. She swung her head to look at me, and I patted the soft spot on her nose before moving to my saddle bag and taking out one of the pellets. The greenish-gray piece was about the size of my ring finger, but I broke it off until I had a chunk the size of my thumbnail.

  “I gotta see it,” Curt said.

  Holding the feed in my fist, I walked back to him. “You know what they say. If it looks like a cow and eats like a cow…”

  “But talks a chicken…” He tossed his head back, laughing.

  I rolled my eyes and held the little piece out for him to see. Then I popped it in my mouth, crunched a couple of times, and swallowed. “Bleh! That thing tastes like dirt!”

  He laughed harder. “I can’t believe you ate that!”

  “I’m not going back on a dare!”

  “I admire that.” He wiped at his eyes. “Okay, dare.”

  “Hey.” I gave his shoulder a playful punch. “You’re supposed to let me ask.”

  He hung his head like he felt bad, but grinned at me under his lashes. “Sorry.”

  I barely found my voice with him looking that cute. He definitely had an unfair advantage. “Truth or dare?”

  “Dare.”

  Imitating him, I dropped my voice low and said, “I knew it.”

  He laughed. “Come on, Lane, gimme your worst.”

  I smiled at him calling me by my last name. “You mean it?”

  “A hundred percent.”

  I looked around the field. Now that I thought about it, truth or dare was a dangerous game in the country, especially since he started us out eating stuff. My mouth still tasted like dirt. “Okay, I’ve got it.”