Page 76 of Up in Smoke

He’s not wrong.

“If you’re anything like me, you might have been content to wait forever.”

I glance down at my hands, rubbing my thumb over a callous that wasn’t there a year ago. He’s not wrong about that, either.

“Truett—”

“No one calls me that,” I blurt out. “It’s Tripp.”

He nods. “Okay, Tripp. I don’t go by Montgomery, either. It’s Monty to anyone who knows me.”

My left leg bounces like it used to when I had to take a pop quiz at school.

Instead of replying, I study him. The dark scruff on his face is peppered with gray. His long legs are slender and slightly bowed. His smile lines are as deep as any I’ve ever seen, like he’s laughed his way through a lot. The patch of skin between his eyes is aged with intense lines too, like pain still lingers and has left evidence on his face.

He scratches his chin and lets out a breath that is more resigned than relieved. “Would it be okay if I ask you some questions?”

I nod.

“I just wondered if maybe I had any grandkids running around.”

“I don’t have any kids.”

“Oh, okay. What about a wife? Girlfriend? Sorry, I guess you could have a boyfriend instead. No problem. I’d never?—”

“No,” I cut him off. Then, I think better of it and, for the first time in my life, answer that question differently. “I have a girlfriend.”

“I hope I didn’t ruin your evening if she’s…” He trails off nervously and looks down the hallway.

“She doesn’t live here, and she’s out of town anyway.”

He nods too many times and leans forward with a smile. “That’s not so bad. A little quiet time with no women around, am I right?”

What the hell? I quirk an eyebrow and don’t bother agreeing with him just to make the conversation less awkward.

“Never mind. I’m terrible with women and never wasted much time on relationships myself. Good for you.” He slaps his hands on his thighs and continues to scan the room. “Well, maybe it’d be easier if you asked me the questions instead. Seems right. If you want to, I mean.”

“If I knew you were coming, I would have thought of some,” I say. “I guess I’ve had plenty of years to do that, though. More than thirty, to be exact.”

We stare at each other for longer than a minute this time. His breaths are heavy, and the uncomfortable strain is evident in his expression. I didn’t mean to be a dick to the guy. I think I’m angry that he randomly chose this moment in time to sweep onto the ranch and surprise me. Up till now, it’d been one of the best weeks of my life.

The day I finally met him was supposed to be significant for me. Thought out. I should have been excited. For whatever reason, my intuition is telling me to keep my guard up instead. Maybe I’ve got it all wrong and should give him a chance.

“What was my mom like?”

He inhales deeply through his nose, raises his eyebrows, and looks to the floor. “She was, uh—well, she was a beauty. Sharp. It’s funny that you’re out here on this ranch. She dreamed of thatkind of life and always wanted to move this way. She had a real talent with animals, too.”

Without thinking, I scoot to the edge of my seat and lean forward as he continues.

“I was quite taken with her, but we were both so young and usually butted heads, if I’m honest. She called me ason of a bitcha time or ten. Which is fair. I was exactly that,” he adds with a fond chuckle. Then his expression turns serious, and his voice lowers. “She was too good for the likes of me, and we both knew it. I think it was late winter when I came back through and learned she’d left Oklahoma. Never heard from her again.”

My spine straightens. “Not once?”

He shakes his head. “No. Her family was a loony bunch and that didn’t help. Only ever met them once in my few weeks there with her. They came running at me with chants, fire-lit pitchforks, and handheld crosses.”

“Did she talk to you about me?”

He swallows hard. “No.”

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