Denver
This X-ray better be enough to get Blair’s approval to ride, since I dug myself a hole by saying I specifically needed her signature. I didn’t. Any doctor’s signature would’ve worked and, truthfully, I’ve seen Dr. Brickham’s signature so many times, I’m confident I could forge it. But Blair’s inhabited every waking thought since I found out she was back in town. I knew she wouldn’t be able to turn me away if I was a patient, so I stupidly booked an appointment with her. Recklessly desperate for the opportunity to talk to her again.
Of course, she couldn’t make it easy, insisting I get an X-ray to prove my collarbone healed before I can ride again. Turns out, Blair Hart still has the ability to make me do anything she asks, which is why I drove an hour and a half to Sheridan and sat in the dingy waiting room for an hour on a random Wednesday. Not even Austin’s questioning stare-down from across the kitchen table this morning was enough to keep me from coming here.
I step out into the unseasonably warm May afternoon, adjusting the brim of my ball cap to block the sun, and pulling my phone from my pocket. A lively laugh carries across the strip mall parking lot, and my ears instinctively perk at the familiar sound.
It can’t be….
Christ, I need to get laid or something to get Blair out of my brain. I haven’t slept with anybody since she turned up here. Whenever I think about it, my stomach knots up. So I haven’t…despite Peyton blowing up my phone to the point where I’m debating changing my number. I couldn’t have been clearer with her from the start that our situation was casual—I don’t do relationships. But I guess my words bounced in one ear and right out the other, because even after I officially ended it, she didn’t back down. Ignoring her calls, leaving messages unread, and turning down advances at the bar hasn’t been enough of a hint, either.
But maybe I can get drunk enough for a one-night stand.
Whatever it’ll take to stop me from thinking about my high school girlfriend anytime I hear a woman’s laugh or see a flash of brown hair. So hung up on her presence in town, I’m booking doctor’s appointments for the first time in my adult life solely so I can see her, and I’m hearing her voice everywhere I go. It’s pathetic.
She’s engaged to somebody else. My soul can’t take another crushing blow from her. And yet my nights are filled with sweet dreams for the first time in ages, and there’s no stopping myself from adding “what ifs” to my days.
What if she became single again? What if there was a life someday in the future where we worked out? What if, in the meantime, I settled for being her friend?
Stepping out from under the shaded canopy outside the clinic, I hear that haunting laughter again. This time, I allow myself a hopeful glance, squinting to make out the people standing on the opposite end of the parking lot. Losing any control over my body, as if being pulled by the invisible string that’s always tethered me to her, I weave between vehicles.
“Morning, ladies.”
Blair spins on her heel at the sound of my voice, a crease forming between her brows. While she’s not giving me the warmest reception, her mom, Faye, immediately envelops me in a hug. Arms wrapped tight around my waist, her small frame presses into me and I smile over at Blair, who rolls her eyes. I have a way with moms—they fucking love me.
“My boy,” Faye says excitedly, letting go of her grip to stand back and beam at me. “Oh, I was just telling Blair to invite you over for dinner.”
“Oh yeah?” I look over Faye’s shoulder at Blair, who’s animatedly mouthing the word no. She makes it too easy to rile her up. “Sounds great—I’ll bring the wine. I seem to remember you drink white. At least, that’s what Blair used to steal from your liquor cabinet back in the day.”
Blair scoffs, but Faye blows her off with a grin, smacking me across the arm. “Oh, you cheeky little monkey. Yes, bring plenty of wine. Maybe plan to stay the night.”
“Ya know, that’s a good idea.” I tilt my head, stealing a glance toward Blair, trying to gauge whether she’s remembering all the nights I snuck into her bed as vividly as I am.
While I probably wouldn’t turn down a chance to sleep with her after all these years—even platonically—I don’t think the man who put a huge rock on her left hand would appreciate it. On impulse, my eyes travel the length of her arm to find her hand stuffed deep in her jacket pocket. I need the sight of her ring to remind me she’s not mine anymore and calm my rapid pulse.
“Okay, Mom,” Blair interrupts, placing her right hand on Faye’s shoulder. Shit. Of course it’s her right hand. “Can I have a minute alone with ?”
Faye gives my fingers a squeeze goodbye before opening the car’s passenger door and slipping in. And Blair’s mouth flies open at the same time the door slams shut. “Ignore all that. She just got confused, so you’re off the hook for dinner.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be off the hook. Your mom makes great lasagna.”
“Regardless, she’ll probably forget she invited you before the date even comes.” She blinks rapidly a few times; she’s fighting to keep her emotions in check. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.”
While I don’t normally hang around with the gossiping crowd in town—I’m too busy to loiter at Anette’s Bakery during the day, and I don’t stick around long enough to make small talk with most women I sleep with—I’ve heard about Faye’s diagnosis. I know that’s why Blair’s back in town.
Blair’s arms cross against her chest, moving too fast for me to catch if there’s a ring on her finger. Or maybe it’s that I get caught up in the way the movement pulls her black ribbed tank tight across her boobs and pushes them together slightly. They may not be massive but, fuck, there’s no way of stopping myself from taking a torturous glance. Whether she has a fiancé or not, I’m not sure I care. Anyway, I had her first—which should count for something, if you ask me.
I finally remember how to form words. “I’m sorry…about your mom.”
“It’s fine.” She gives a thin-lipped smile. “Anyway, we gotta head home.”
“Oh, I came over here to tell you I just had my X-rays done. This collarbone is feeling better than ever. Honestly, I think it healed stronger than it was before.” I lean against the trunk of her car and take in her irritated posture. Arms crossed, a scowl painted in the grooves between her eyebrows, and a sporadic twitching in her left eyelid. “Think you can sign that paper for me now?”
“That’s not how this works, and you know that.” She shakes her head at me. “I need to see the results before I consider doing anything.”
“Great, when should I come by your office?”
“Call the office and make an appointment. I think there’s some availability next week.”
“Perfect. Then we can make a plan for family dinner, too. I’ve missed your mom’s lasagna.”
“You can keep missing it. Get Red to cook for you.” She turns, rich brown hair swishing over her shoulders— God, I hate to see her go, but I love watching her leave. Blair’s leggings ride up her ass a bit, leaving me on the verge of panting like a fucking dog as she walks to her car door.
“Bye, Blair. See you soon!” I shout as she disappears from sight.
—
My gelding, Vegas, stamps through the muddy creek bed and grunts his way up the embankment alongside a couple thousand head of cattle. The scents of fresh pine and newly thawed earth flood my nostrils as we climb away from the creek. The mountain’s bursting with early wildflowers and all the grass our herd could hope for. Spring couldn’t have come soon enough, after a winter of dealing with a hay shortage. Even from at least a hundred feet away, I can feel Austin take his first relieved exhale in months. This ranch may technically be in all three of our names, but as the oldest brother and the one responsible for tracking finances, he’s always bearing the brunt of hard times. And it shows in his gruff tone and sullen attitude—made slightly better now that he has his fiancée, Cecily.
I feel guilty sometimes, like maybe I need to take more weight off his shoulders. Occasionally, I hate that I’ve given up just as much of my life for this place as he has, and he’s the only one allowed to be pissy about the hand he was dealt. Since Blair’s been back in town, I’ve been feeling the latter more often than not.
When Blair and I were teenagers, she helped with a few cattle drives. And fucking hell, I can still picture her riding across this clearing with her cowboy hat pulled low over her eyes, long hair flying behind her. Fully in her element, Blair’s smile shone brighter than the sun, and was more beautiful than the hillside blanketed in blue and white flowers. I try to imagine what she might do for fun now, with her city-slicker clothes, fancy nurse practitioner job, and city-boy fiancé. If there’s anything in her life that makes her face light up the same way.
Clearly I’m in a daze, because I don’t notice Red riding up beside me until he taps me on the arm. “Made it through another winter.”
“We always do.” I run a hand along the brim of my Stetson, adjusting it so I can look at him without squinting in the harsh midday sun. “Bet you’re ready to get back to your family.”
“Definitely.” He spits chewing tobacco on the ground between us. “You know…this used to be my favorite part of this job—getting away from everything for a few days, drinking whiskey and playing cards with you guys at night. But, fuck, now I can’t stop wondering what Cass and Little Spud are doing.”
“Makes sense.”
What doesn’t make sense is why I keep wondering what Blair’s doing. As if it’s any of my business.
“Blair’s staying with Cass to help with the baby while we’re out here,” he says like he can read my mind. “Bet they’re doing nothing but binge-watching those ridiculous dating shows on Netflix and eating junk food.”
I don’t want to assume she’s avoiding me, but she sure likes to be at the ranch anytime I’m not around. With the exception of the day I finished work early and caught her off guard—the day I nearly threw caution to the wind and kissed her on the stairs of my childhood home, just to see if it still feels the same as it used to.
Then a sentence slips free from between my lips, because my brain’s too busy spiraling to think before I talk. “You’d think her fiancé wouldn’t be too thrilled about her hanging around a cattle ranch with a bunch of cowboys all the time.”
“Her fiancé?” Red snorts. “Unless something’s changed over the two days we’ve been away, Blair’s not engaged to anybody.”
“But…she was wearing a ring at the Horseshoe. I could’ve sworn—a massive rock on her left hand. Impossible to miss.”
“How much did you have to drink? Maybe you were seeing things.”
“Yeah…maybe.”
It could have been a hallucination. This isn’t the first time I’ve questioned whether I’ve conjured things up when it comes to her. For years after she left, I’d have moments where I questioned if Blair Hart was only ever a figment of my imagination. If my brain had dreamt up this perfect girl—one who would ruin me for every other woman—as a nasty trick.
But now that I know she’s real and fiancé-less?
I’m not sure if what we had as kids means anything to her anymore, but there’s no way I can pass up the opportunity to attempt to make things right. If there’s one thing I learned from losing so many of the people I loved in one fell swoop, it’s to not take things for granted. For months after my life fell apart, time seemed to stand still. And then it dawned on me that I was the one not moving. I was ignoring the people who meant the most to me, I wasn’t fighting to get Blair back, I wasn’t even living.
Standing on the edge of a literal cliff, I tossed my portion of Mom’s ashes into the wind and made a pact with myself. Tell the people I love that I love them. If someone asks for help, be there. And if the love of my life ever decides to give me a second chance, make sure she doesn’t regret it.
It doesn’t seem likely that Blair has any interest in giving me another shot. But even if she still hates me, I can’t sit here wondering anymore. Not after years of dialing her number, then canceling the call before the first ring. Not after years of briefly stopping at the end of her parents’ driveway, questioning whether it’s worth asking them to pass along a message.
Red snaps a finger in front of my face and stares at me with furrowed brows. “You good?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just thinking about the rodeo in a couple weeks,” I lie. “You coming? I miss having you behind the chutes, man.”
If he doesn’t buy my lie, he does a good job of not giving enough of a shit to call me out. “I have to talk to Cassidy first, but maybe. I’m sure she’ll want to get out of the house, too.”
“You and Cass being together—having a kid together—still feels crazy to me. Can’t believe you went and grew up.”
“Best thing that could’ve happened to me, man. This time last year, I would’ve never expected it.” He rubs his palm across the stubble on his jaw. “Don’t get me wrong, it was fun hitting up rodeos every weekend, drinking, being a stupid kid. But if I had known there was a chance I could end up with Cassidy, I would’ve given that all up a long time ago. Would’ve gotten my shit together sooner.”
“Well, better late than never, right?”
He looks pointedly at me, then gives his mare a little kick, trotting to rejoin the rest of the guys back on the north side of the creek. I take another minute alone to watch the cattle slowly disperse before turning and following after the other cowboys.
Catching back up to Red, I say, “For the record, I have my shit together. I’m just not interested in anything long term. No kids and wife in the cards for this guy.”
“I said the same thing at one point.” He reaches into his saddlebag and pulls out a bottle of water. A far cry from previous cattle drives, when we guzzled beer the entire ride back to the ranch. “Now I have the girl I always wanted, and the world’s cutest baby.”
“And the dad bod to match.” I slap him on the stomach with a laugh and give Vegas a little kick, escaping right before Red’s hand can hit me upside the head.
—
At eight p.m. I’m settled on top of my bed with a beer, holding my phone to my ear for my routine chat with Dad. Jackson doesn’t necessarily have an issue with our father, but he also doesn’t put in the effort to talk to him regularly. Austin hasn’t spoken with him since he left, and the two of them are too alike to work it out.
He comes for dinner on the anniversary of Mom’s death, and her birthday. But somewhere through the years—when Dad realized how much he was missing by not being here—he started calling me in the space between those dinners.
His gruff voice comes through the phone, “Hey, kid.”
After a deep breath, I dive right into it. Word-vomiting all over the place. “Blair’s back home to take care of her mom—remember I told you before that she’s sick. Anyway, maybe it’s a real bad choice…but damn, I want to get her back. I have no clue if she’s still mad about everything, or if she’d even be interested in me anymore….”
“Blair’s back,” he muses.
“Yeah, she is.”
“Is it going to make anything worse if you try to fix things?”
I take a swig of my beer, unsure how anything could be worse than not speaking for over a decade. “Guess not.”
“There’s your answer. Now that’ll be a hundred bucks for your therapy session.”
“Yeah, put it on my tab.” I roll my eyes—not that he can see. Probably a good thing, too, or I’d get smacked upside the head. “Speaking of which, Odessa’s got this swear jar set up and some of us might as well toss our entire pay in there the moment we get it.”
Dad laughs wistfully.
I know he misses it here. Misses us. Things were hard after Mom died, and he needed to get away from the memories. Aus refuses to forgive him for it, but I’m too much like my dad in some ways to stay mad. I can’t blame him for running away, because I did the same thing. Sure, after losing Blair I didn’t physically leave Wells Canyon, but I still ran. To liquor, parties, misbehavior, women…I ran to anything I thought could help with the pain, just as he did.
For twenty minutes, I fill him in on the ranch, the lack of rain, and what his family’s up to. He blows me off every time I hint at him coming home. And when we hang up, I lie back on the pillow and fall asleep dreaming up all the ways I might be able to get my Blair back.