Chapter 49 - Chase Me, Cowboy

We go into the yard. Coen grabs his sunglasses from the table on the way out. I know him; he’s hiding behind them.

I pause just off the porch. He jerks his head, walking around the side to the spit of land between the house and the barn. There, he stops, hands on his hips, and looks out over the back field. I wait, letting him think. He doesn’t speak.

“You gonna say something to me?” I ask finally.

He shrugs. “I can.”

“Okay, go right ahead.”

He taps his glasses down, just far enough to look at me over them. “You know I don’t like her going into the industry.”

“I don’t, either,” I say. “But she’s got an advantage over you and me.”

“What’s that?”

I gesture between us. “You and me. People aren’t gonna try and fuck her over, she’s got some weight behind her. From both of us.”

He thinks, jaw working. “That’s true.”

“So what’s the problem?”

He shrugs, turning to face me. “It’s not that we’re upset, we just have a lot going on.”

“With the wedding?”

He shifts, like there’s something he’s not telling me. Right away, my senses tingle.

“What? You not getting married?” I ask.

“We’re postponing.”

A little bit of ice trickles in my veins. No, that’s not supposed to happen. Coen and Sabrina were a done deal: signed, sealed, and delivered. I take a step in, throwing up my hand.

“What the fuck, man?” I hiss.

He raises his palms. “No, we’re good. We just…got left alone here at the ranch for a lot of the summer. Had a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in the field and made some choices.”

I stare, not comprehending.

“Are you saying Sabrina’s pregnant?” I ask finally.

He shrugs. “Yeah, I’m saying that.”

“Okay, so why wasn’t she on birth control? Have you just been raw-dogging it this whole time? Jesus, how good is your pull-out game?”

He laughs, running a hand over his face. My shoulders sink in relief.

“Jesus, do you always have to be so blunt? We were switching because she didn’t like what she was on, so we were using condoms for a bit. Turns out, for the condom to work, you have to use it every time.”

“Well, who woulda thought,” I say.

We both laugh, and the tension dissolves. I should’ve known right off the bat that this wasn’t about Serena and me. Coen and I have been friends too long for him not to be happy for me finding someone I love, even if he had concerns about it.

“So is she happy?” I ask.

“Yeah, yeah, she is,” he says, nodding. “We both are. It was a shock, but we’ve adjusted.”

“How far along is she?”

“Further than we thought. The whole Jack Daniel’s incident happened a little while back. The doctor said she’s about nine weeks in.”

I take a beat to soak it all in. Of all the things I thought he would say, telling me he’s going to be a father wasn’t one of them. For some reason, I thought Coen didn’t want kids. We had some discussions where I expressed my doubt about becoming a parent myself, but now that I think back, those were mostly one-sided conversations. I guess he was just doing what he does best, keeping things quiet.

“And she doesn’t want to get married?” I ask.

“No, she wants to push until she’s through the birth and postpartum.”

“Hell, you could get married now.”

He shrugs, hands in his pockets. “I would, but it’s whatever she wants. I’m just happy to be here. Reckon you’re in the same boat, in your own way.”

He’s not wrong. At this point, I’ve done a lot of the shit I wanted to do in my life. I’m ready to make someone else a priority, someone who means everything to me.

“Reckon I am,” I say.

We stand in silence for a while. Finally, I clear my throat.

“I got a question for you,” I say, taking out a pack of Marlboros. I’m not good at this heart-to-heart thing, and I desperately need something do with my hands. Then, I think better of it and put it back in my pocket.

“Well, what’s the question? Or do I have to guess?”

I scuff the tip of my boot on the ground, squinting.

“You ever feel resentful toward me for steering your career, you know…given how it went in the last few years?” I say finally.

“Resentful?’

“Yeah.”

He shakes his head. “Why would I be resentful? We did all that together.”

“Did we?”

The knot in my chest loosens. I’ve carried it around for so long, putting it to bed, waking up with it. Wondering if everything that’s ever happened to him, and any of my clients, is my fault. Whether I’m a shitty agent for not being there at all times to protect them. These are the things that kept me up at night. The questions Serena’s warmth shut down so I could finally rest.

Coen gives me a look, a familiar one. The look he used to give me when I’d sit on our tour bus catastrophizing.

“Hey, man, you need to calm the fuck down,” he remarks.

“Okay,” I say, throwing up a hand. “Thank you for that.”

“I mean it. You need a therapist or something to lay out the boundaries of your job and where your responsibility ends. Because you don’t have boundaries with this shit and it’s eating you up.”

I open my mouth to push back. Then I shut it.

“Okay, I get it,” I say finally.

He turns to the house, gesturing. “And if you’re gonna be with Serena, you’ll need some pretty strong boundaries so you don’t act like her agent when you’re supposed to be her boyfriend.”

I know that, but he’s right—easier said than done.

“You talked to her dad yet?” Coen says.

The bottom drops out of my stomach. I kind of forgot about her parents and the fact I’ll have to go through telling them that we’re together and that Serena has an agent and it has nothing to do with me or ITA. I shake my head.

“I will cross that damn bridge when I get to it,” I say.

“You’ll be fine,” he says. “Not like he can do anything about it.”

“Is he coming back from Portland anytime soon?”

Coen shakes his head. “Not till the holidays. He’s having some trouble traveling, but I thought I’d bring Sabrina up there in December after we visit her mom.”

“That’d be good,” I say. “I’ll let Serena take the lead on that one.”

He starts walking back to the house, and I fall into step beside him. We don’t talk, not until he pauses outside the front door and lets out a sigh.

“We both got a lot going on,” he says.

“Yeah, we do,” I agree.

He doesn’t move. Finally, he clears his throat. “Glad we’re getting to do it together.”

Maybe if we were different people, we’d hug it out. Instead, I nod in agreement.

“Yep,” I say. “Reckon we’re pretty lucky.”

The Maligators loiter on the porch. I scratch their heads on the way in, hanging behind to gather my head a bit. It’s been a strange fucking week, that’s for sure. As I step into the hall, it’s clear by the excited chatter that the news has already been spread. I round the corner, and Serena glances at me over her sister’s head in a clear oh-my-God expression.

“Everything’s good,” I mouth.

She smiles, and for a second, it’s just her and me. Everything is good. It’s not how I thought this visit would go, but it’s also not a bad outcome.

That night, when she’s asleep in my arms in the guestroom, I sit up because I can’t stop thinking about how things have changed since last year. A new world opened up when Coen took a step back. Now, it feels like a new world is opening up with Serena taking a step in. How I fit into all this remains to be seen. But for now, I guess I’ll just keep on chasing her wherever she chooses to go.