Chapter 50
Beau
“Dad, I swear I’m fine. The doctor cleared me to drive.
” Another week had passed, and thankfully, I was feeling more like myself.
My arm was still in a cast, but the headaches weren’t as constant or sharp anymore.
“I need a damn coffee because my machine decided to break, and since I had to get fancy with it, I’m stuck waiting until tomorrow for the parts to fix it. ”
Dad grumbled something under his breath. “Be careful, son.” Then the line went dead.
I sighed, slipping my phone into my pocket as I pushed open the door to the coffee shop.
“Hey, Nance.” I nodded at the barista behind the counter.
She beamed at me. “Beau! Good to see you up and about. We’ve missed you.”
I offered her a small smile, doing a quick scan of the shop—to be sure. I was a town over, but I was the one who had introduced her to this place. The last thing I needed was to run into Fable when I still had no idea where we stood.
The longer I thought about it, the more I realized I didn’t want a relationship like the one my parents had.
I didn’t want to be with someone who ran when life got hard—because life would get harder.
That was inevitable. I needed someone who could stand in the fire with me, not someone who left me to battle the flames on my own.
But damn, I missed her. I missed her like I missed moving my fingers. Like something inside me had been ripped out, leaving nothing but an aching, hollow space.
I was exhausted, probably a little depressed from being stuck on the sidelines, unable to do anything. No bulls. No riding. Just sitting in my damn house with nothing but my own thoughts to keep me company.
The sharp edge of a voice cut through the low hum of the coffee shop.
“I said I wanted my coffee black, not with sugar,” a man snapped at Nance, his tone sharp enough to make her flinch.
My brows furrowed as I watched her fumble with the cup and apologize.
I stepped forward and squared my shoulders. “Is there a problem here?” I stared the guy down, waiting for him to get the damn message. “You got a problem with your coffee, you ask nicely. You don’t go yelling at the people who make it.”
The guy exhaled sharply, clearly irritated, but smart enough not to push back.
I turned to Nance, my tone softening. “Will ya please make him another one? On me.”
She nodded, looking relieved as she got to work.
I side-eyed the guy again. “You’re not from here.”
He scoffed. “How’d you know?”
“Everyone in these small towns knows everyone.” I gave him a slow once-over.
Slicked boots, a belt buckle so damn shiny I could probably see my reflection in it, and a cowboy hat that looked like it had come out of the box this morning.
He stuck out like a sore thumb. “You’re passing through,” I said.
He nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I’m here to take my fiancée home.”
I stilled. My stomach twisted, a slow, sickening feeling creeping in. “Y-your fiancée?”
He nodded and grabbed the coffee Nance had remade from the bar.
“Yup,” he muttered, taking a slow sip. “She moved out here a few months ago. Thought she was breaking up with me, but really?” He let out a low chuckle, one that sent a sharp, crawling sensation up my spine.
“She was having a breakdown. Needed some time to get her head on straight. I gotta bring her home where she belongs.”
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I swore I could hear it over the dull hum of the coffee shop.
My hand burned inside the cast, itching like hell, like my whole body was fighting against the fact that this motherfucker was standing in front of me, talking like he owned her.
Like she was some lost little thing that he could pick up and drag back where he thought she belonged.
No fucking way.
He wasn’t talking about Fable. He couldn’t be.
Fable had a past, sure. A serious relationship, yeah—but engaged? No. She would’ve told me. Wouldn’t she?
I swallowed hard, forcing my pulse to steady, trying to talk myself down. This wasn’t my business. If this guy had some ex-fiancée running around town, it didn’t mean it was her. I should walk out, get in my truck, drive back home, and keep telling myself that.
I should.
But I didn’t.
“Where did you say you were from again?” My voice came out tight, controlled, but my jaw was locked so hard I thought I might break a damn tooth.
The guy shook his head, that smug grin curling his lips. “I didn’t.” He took another sip of his coffee, licking the drop off his lips. “I’m from Chicago.”
“I am so fucking pissed.”
Gatlin’s brows furrowed as he took me in, his gaze flicking from my clenched jaw to my bound-up arm. “What the hell’s got you all twisted up?”
I let out a harsh breath, my chest rising and falling too fast. My fingers twitched inside the cast, useless. I couldn’t even curl them into a goddamn fist, couldn’t throw a punch at the steel in front of me like I wanted to.
Instead, I lifted my boot again and slammed it into the paddock fence.
“Ow, fucker,” I grumbled.
Dalton whistled low as he walked up, wiping sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “Jesus, man. You’re gonna break your damn foot next.”
I dragged a hand down my face, the frustration bubbling over. “I met her fiancé.”
Silence.
Both of them fucking stood there, blinking at me like I’d lost my goddamn mind.
Dalton spoke first. “Who’s fiancé?”
“Fable’s.”
Gatlin took off his hat, running a hand through his hair before jamming it back on. “You sure?”
“Guy from Chicago. Slick boots, too clean of a hat. Walks into the coffee shop like he owns the place, says she had a ‘breakdown’ and now he’s here to take her home.” I scoffed, shaking my head. “Like she’s some lost little thing he forgot to claim.”
Dalton let out a sharp breath. “That’s some fucked-up shit.”
“Yeah.” I swallowed hard. “And the worst fucking part?”
Gatlin crossed his arms. “What?”
“She never told me.” I ground my teeth together, my voice bitter. “Not once.”
Dalton sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “You talk to her since?”
I shook my head.
“And what exactly are you planning to do about it?”
I wanted to be done with her. I wanted to erase the ache in my chest, bury it beneath work, sweat, and the dirt under my boots. I told myself it should be simple, she pulled away, so I should, too. I should be able to chalk it up as another lesson in why getting attached was a bad bet.
But she still lingered.
I missed her.
I missed the way she laughed, the way she curled into my side like I was her goddamn safe place.
I missed the way she kissed me—soft and searching, like she needed me as much as I needed her.
I missed how she fought through her fears, let me see the ugliest parts of her and still found a way to shine.
And fuck, I loved her.
Even after all this. Even after realizing she had an entire life I’d never known about. Even after she didn’t show up, after she iced me out.
But what did it matter? The odds had never felt like they were in my favor.
Losing my mom taught me real quick that love wasn’t some guarantee, it was something you could have one day and wake up to without the next.
And with Fable… it felt like I’d been reaching for something I wasn’t built to keep.
“Nothing. My mom. Fable. Everyone,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I’m better off alone.” I turned, gripping the fence so tight my knuckles ached inside my cast. “I should do what I planned—focus on the barn, build my stock, work the land. That’s what matters. That’s what lasts.”
Gatlin let out a slow breath. “That’s a lonely way to live, brother.”
I huffed out a humorless chuckle. “Been doin’ it my whole life.”
He shook his head. “A barn’s just a barn without someone to share it with. A life’s just work if you ain’t got someone to come home to. Love, partnership—that’s what makes it worth it.”
I clenched my jaw, not wanting to hear it. Not wanting to believe it. Because every night when I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, all I wanted was her.
“It doesn’t matter now,” I muttered. “She’s got some fiancé coming to bring her back to Chicago.”
And the worst part? I wanted to run to her door and beg her not to go.
Dalton let out a loud groan, throwing his head back like I was exhausting him. “Alright, I’ve had enough of your brooding bullshit. You need to talk to her, man. It’s been long enough, and you’re grumpy as shit without her.”
Gatlin grumbled under his breath. “I hate miscommunication.”
I snapped my gaze to him, my whole body tensing. “It’s not miscommunication,” I bit out. “She’s communicating fine by shutting me out.”
Gatlin shook his head like I was the biggest idiot he’d ever met. “For both our sakes, if not your own, go over there, dude.”
I stared out at the field, my mind running in a thousand different directions. If she had some fiancé coming, if she was moving, if she was leaving this town for good, then I needed answers.
I could sleep on it and go later if she’d even open the door for me.
“Maybe I’ll go tomorrow,” I muttered.
No, I needed to go tomorrow, to face whatever reaction she had head-on, even if it meant standing outside in the cold with my pride in shambles. Delaying wouldn’t make it any easier; if anything, it would only give my doubts more time to sink their claws in.
Dalton scoffed. “Yeah, ’cause one more night of stewing with this is the right move.”
I ignored him, looking out toward the road that led straight to her place. One more night. One more night to sleep on it. Then I’d get the truth—whether I wanted to hear it or not.