My Knight in Muddy Cowboy Boots

The bonfire ended early,and now Case and I were alone. Usually I love this time together, but lately my feelings were getting in the way and making things uncomfortable. I know Case doesn’t know what is going on, but he was picking up on the the tension. I know I seemed ill, and I felt guilty, but the jealousy was become a little overwhelming. I sat there as long as I could before I broke the silence.

“How long have you loved her?”  Emma knew he would deny it, but she also saw the way he watched Kimmie all night. She understood that look on his face better than anyone else. She had been watching Case with the same look.

“What? Who are you talking about?” Case tried to sound  indignant, but she caught the way he voice went up an octave.

“Kimmie. You followed her around like a lost basset hound all night. Hell, almost drooled as much.” I tried not to sound too jealous, but wasn’t sure how well I succeeded. Not that I would have to worry about it, my best friend, Case, has been oblivious for years. I have been in love with him since we were ten.  He became my hero on the schoolyard when another kid called me fat, from that moment on there was no other for me. To Case ,though, I would always be the sister he never had.

“‘I’m not in love with her, and I damn sure didn’t follow her like a drooling dog. We just happened to hanging in the same crowd tonight.”  It was night time outside, but the bright full moon shone through the window and I could easily see the red in his cheeks. I knew had anyone other than myself said that he would have added a few choice words at the end, but he tried to watch how he talked to me. Always the Southern Gentlemen, he still believed there was things you didn’t say in front of a lady.

Things got quiet after that. I listened to the rhythmic humming of the tires on the gravel, the wind blowing through the cracked window, and the crickets chirping. It was a song I loved, one of my favorite parts about living in rural Alabama. I looked out the window at the recently plowed fields. I had a habit of watching the fields for the coyote that run through them on their nomadic travels. I noticed them for the first time when I was five, and always got excited when I caught a glimpse of them. I knew I should be probably be scared, but for some reason I never was.

As peaceful as the Alabama lullaby might be, I was still overwhelmingly aware of Case’s silent yet strong presence in the jacked up truck.  I wanted to slide over and tell him I could make him forget all about Kimmie. That women like her were a dime a dozen, and he deserved someone that would treat him better. Someone that knew what a catch he could be. Someone like me. I wanted to kiss the wrinkles around his eyes that formed when he was thinking about something too hard. I wanted to run my fingers through the curly black hair. I wanted to stare into those bright green eyes that looked like emeralds in the sunlight. I wanted a lot, but I knew these were things I would never do.

We have been sitting in front of what I refer to as my country cottage for about 30 mins now. A few times Case opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. I was tired, and ready to go in, but I knew eventually he would say whatever was on his mind. So, I sat there and waited. I have been waiting for 15 years, would 30 mins really make a difference?

“Do you think a guy like me would stand a chance?”  The question embarrassed him, and he looked away.

A guy like him? To him that phrase means just a blue collar farm hand with not a lot of money in his pocket.

“You mean, do I think you have a shot with Kimmie?” His boyish cheeks turned red again, but he didn’t look away this time.

“Yeah, I guess if you want to be blunt that’s what I mean.”

“A girl like her would be lucky to have a guy like you.” If only a girl like her would appreciate having someone that wonderful.

“That’s not what I asked though, Emma. Do you think I have a shot with her?” Damn it, why couldn’t he see how much this conversation hurt me.