Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
T he night on the ranch was dark and still, the vast expanse of land outside Caleb’s window bathed in moonlight. Inside his home, Caleb lay sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling as the silence pressed on him.
The clock on the nightstand blinked red numbers at him: 2:12 a.m.
He hadn’t been able to sleep since getting back from the convention. Not really. Whenever he closed his eyes, images of Taylor filled the darkness—her laughter, how her lips had felt against his, the soft curve of her smile when she let her guard down.
The night they spent in each other’s arms lingered in Caleb’s mind like a bittersweet melody playing over and over. Every touch, every whispered word, had felt like a fragile bridge to the past—a momentary escape from the years and mistakes that lay between them. And then, like a sucker punch, the memory of waking up to an empty bed hit him all over again.
She’d left him. No note. No good-bye.
Just like he’d left her.
Caleb exhaled sharply, the irony twisting in his gut. The difference was when he’d left, he’d told himself it was for the best—that she was better off without him. But now, with her absence settling over him like a storm cloud, he realized how much it hurt to be on the receiving end of that silence.
Waking up alone with no chance to talk to her left Caleb feeling like the rug had been yanked out from under him. He had no idea if last night had meant anything to Taylor or if it had just been a fleeting moment for her, a way to close the chapter they’d never fully finished.
And honestly? It sucked—big time.
He sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair, frustration simmering beneath the surface. Caleb wasn’t the type to dwell, but this was different. Taylor had always been different.
Lying back, more determined than ever, he rolled onto his side, punching his pillow in frustration. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. He wasn’t supposed to care this much. But no matter how many excuses he threw at himself, none of them stuck.
Why did she leave?
He groaned, flipping onto his back again. The last thing he needed was another sleepless night of overthinking.
But then, faintly at first, he heard it.
A high, warbling sound floated through the stillness, off-key and startlingly loud against the quiet night. It sounded like sandpaper dragging across a rough surface, grating and uneven, setting his nerves on edge with every jarring note.
“ Buffalo gals, won’t you come out tonight? Won’t you come out tonight? Won’t you come out tonight? ”
Caleb bolted upright, his heart lurching. “What the hell?”
The voice grew louder, more persistent as if it were moving closer.
“ Buffalo gals, won’t you come out tonight and dance by the light of the mooooon! ”
His groan turned into a growl. “Eugenia,” he muttered.
Sure enough, the ghostly form of his great-great-great-great-grandmother shimmered into view at the foot of his bed, her hands clasped and her head tilted dramatically as she launched into another verse.
“ Buffalo boys, don’t you sit there and mope! Won’t you grab your boots and learn how to cope! ”
“Eugenia!” Caleb barked, but she ignored him, spinning in an exaggerated circle as if she were waltzing with an invisible partner.
The woman was undeniably dead, yet she always appeared annoyingly cheerful as if the afterlife held nothing but endless amusement at his expense.
“ Oh, Buffalo boys, don’t you run and hide! It’s time to find your girl and swallow your pride! ”
“Enough!” Caleb stood, glaring at her as she let out a laugh that sounded far too pleased with itself. “It’s the middle of the night. People are trying to sleep. Including me.”
She floated closer, her translucent form flickering slightly in the dim light. “Oh, sweetie, you weren’t sleeping. You were lying there brooding like a teenager with a crush.”
“I wasn’t—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “What do you want, Eugenia?”
Damn, how did the ghost manage to see so much? It was like she could peel back the layers he kept hidden, exposing thoughts and feelings he didn’t even want to admit to himself.
“What I’ve wanted since the moment I saw you and Taylor together,” she said, crossing her arms and tapping one ghostly foot on the floor, “for you to stop wallowing in self-pity and do something about it.”
“There’s nothing to do,” Caleb said tightly. “She left. End of story.”
Eugenia arched a delicate, ghostly brow. “Oh, darling, if you think that’s the end of the story, then you clearly inherited more of your father’s stubbornness than I realized.”
The mention of his father made his jaw tighten, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he tossed the sheet back and grabbed the shirt he’d discarded earlier, pulling it on as if to signal that this conversation was over. Then he grabbed his pants, the ghost watching him.
If he couldn’t sleep and a meddling ghost was determined to hound him, Caleb figured he might as well make himself useful. Grumbling under his breath, he trudged into the kitchen, started the coffeemaker, and waited for the rich aroma to fill the room.
By the time he poured his first steaming cup, his thoughts were already turning to the stack of paperwork and brochures he’d brought back from the convention. At least those made sense—straightforward, manageable, and nothing like the tangled mess of emotions Taylor had left in her wake.
With a sigh, Caleb settled at his desk, the faint glow of his laptop illuminating his furrowed brow. This was better than sitting around replaying every moment from the past few days in his head.
But Eugenia wasn’t one to be dismissed. She floated after him, her tone turning sharper. “You think you’re being noble, Caleb? Does pushing her away or letting her slip through your fingers make you a martyr? All you’re doing is proving you’re too scared to fight for what matters.”
He wasn’t scared—at least, that’s what he told himself. He was protecting both himself and Taylor from a life like his parents had, a life built on broken promises and bitter regrets. He wasn’t being a martyr but a hero in his own way. The problem was, she didn’t see it like that. To her, he wasn’t saving anyone—he was just running.
“I’m not scared,” he shot back, spinning to face her.
“Then why are you still here?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “Why aren’t you out there finding her? Apologizing for every stupid thing you’ve done and showing her that you’re worth a second chance?”
He opened his mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come.
Eugenia softened, stepping closer. “She left because she’s scared too, you know. But she came to you first, Caleb. She let you in. And you let her walk away without even trying to stop her.”
Damn it. Why did it feel like Eugenia was right? Taylor had let him in, cracked open the walls she’d built so carefully, only to shut him out again. She’d walked away before he even had a chance to stop her. And if he’d been given that chance? Caleb clenched his jaw, the truth hitting him harder than he wanted to admit—he would have stopped her.
Her words hit him like a blow to the heart, and he sank into his chair, his head in his hands. God, now, what did he do?
“I don’t know where she is,” he admitted after a long moment, his voice quiet.
Eugenia let out an exasperated sigh, though her expression softened. “You’re a smart man. You’ll figure it out. And if you don’t, I’ll keep singing until you do.”
The thought of that old woman haunting his house, belting out tunes in her screeching, off-key voice all night long, was more than he could stomach. It was the kind of torment that could break even the strongest man.
Caleb’s head shot up, his eyes narrowing. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, wouldn’t I?” She grinned, mischief dancing in her translucent eyes.
He groaned. “Fine. Fine! I’ll look her up. Just stop singing.”
Eugenia beamed, clapping her hands. “That’s the spirit! Now, get to it. Chop-chop!”
With a muttered curse, Eugenia hovered over his shoulder as he opened a browser, her presence both encouraging and annoying.
"How does that screen know where to find her?" Eugenia scoffed, floating closer to peer at the laptop as if it offended her. "Back in my day, you didn’t sit staring at a glowing box. You got up, saddled a horse, and searched for her yourself."
Taylor Montgomery he typed into the search bar, his fingers hesitating for a moment before hitting enter. A flood of results appeared—business profiles, social media pages, and news articles. “This is the faster way.”
“There,” Eugenia said, pointing toward a link to Taylor’s marketing website. “I can’t believe you found her so quick. That was faster than a horse.”
He ignored her, clicking the link and scanning the page. Her professional photo stared back at him, her smile polished and confident. But the contact information at the bottom of the page made his hands tighten.
“You’ve got her now,” Eugenia said softly. “What are you going to do with it?”
Caleb didn’t answer right away, his gaze lingering on her photo. Finally, he closed the laptop and set it aside, his jaw tightening with determination.
“I’m going to find her,” he said quietly.
Eugenia’s smile widened, satisfaction radiating from her as she began to fade. “That’s my boy.”
As her form disappeared, Caleb leaned back in his chair, his thoughts racing. He didn’t know what he’d say when he found her or if she wanted to see him again.
But he was done sitting still.
It was time to fight for what mattered. Even if they did nothing but talk, he needed to know why she’d left without saying good-bye.