Chapter Six
Forever Cursed to Be Alone
‘Orange,’ Aster said on a choked exhale like there was something stuck in her windpipe.
I stayed pinned to the stool. Behind me the sound of Lia grinding her jaw set my own teeth on edge.
Aster had to be wrong. Max had been my soulmate, until he decided to leave me. Bryce was a stranger. The reporter we all dreaded meeting.
Elena had been my friend long enough to understand what was happening. Her brow arched as if to say, Oh, shit and Is this the guy from the clinic?
I gave a small nod, and she spun on her heel.
‘Hey,’ she said a little too loudly. ‘What can I get for you? Coffee? The pastries from next door are still warm too.’
Bryce took in my blazing stare and made an uncomfortable swallow. ‘I’ll take a coffee. One sugar.’ He backed away and found his own seat at the opposite end of the counter.
Elena rushed toward the kitchen, and Aster squeezed my hand. ‘I’m sorry, Dan.’
That tug in the center of my chest on the trail. The drive I felt to help him last night. Was that all linked to this revelation?
‘I don’t understand, Ast. How can there be two matches?’ I asked.
‘There can’t be.’ The way she bit into her lip, frantically tapped her nails on the counter, warned this was going to be bad. ‘Your color… it’s unique. It’s like persimmon with a gold outline. I’ve never seen that color except for with you.’ Her gaze darted to Bryce. ‘And, well, now him.’
‘But you swore Max was her match,’ Lia insisted.
I hated thinking about Max, but flickers of him kept creeping back into my life.
We’d met the second day of veterinary school.
When Aster came to visit a month later, she revealed that he and I shared a color.
That small nudge made me brave enough to ask him out on a study date.
For the next four years, we were hardly ever apart.
When I decided I wanted to return to Harvest Moon to set up my own clinic after we graduated, Max had other ideas.
One minute we were sharing our lives, and a little bungalow in Fort Collins, the next he was making a dozen excuses about why we wouldn’t work.
Two days later, he was on a plane to Cheyenne to join an established vet practice.
Heartbroken does not begin to describe the crushing weight of what I felt in the following months and even years.
I spun Aster’s stool until we were knee to knee. ‘More of an explanation. Now!’
‘Max was the same orange shade as you… but… well, but he just did not have the golden outline,’ she said meekly. ‘I was younger back then. My skills weren’t as honed, and…’ She broke off and dipped her quivering chin.
‘Finish what you were going to say,’ I urged.
‘You’ve always looked out for me and Lia. Never had a life of your own thanks to Mother. I didn’t want you to be alone, and I thought Max’s color was close enough.’
Close enough.
This was worse than a punch to the gut. It was a penetrating cleaver to the heart. All this time I’d thought Max had been my one true love and that against every part of fate in the universe, he’d walked away from me. This news should have made the ache in my bones lessen, but it didn’t.
I pulled Aster’s birthday gift wrapped in sparkly purple paper out of my messenger bag and shoved it across the counter toward her. ‘I have to go.’
‘Dani, wait!’
I couldn’t listen to her for a minute more. The walls were closing in, and the air – there wasn’t enough of it.
I raced past Bryce and headed for the door. Once I was outside, I bent over and pulled in as much oxygen as I could.
What was I supposed to do with this information?
For over seven years, I’d believed that the man who was supposed to be my one true love had chosen to walk away from me.
That I was forever cursed to be alone. Now, this guy I barely knew, the one who kissed me like it was his sworn mission, was here to report on my town?
My family? He out of all people was supposed to be ‘The One’?
Another thought walloped me in the chest. Last night he knew who I was, and he didn’t say a word. Didn’t confess the real reason he was in Harvest Moon.
Now I was sure I was going to be sick.
I had to move. Shake off the feeling of ants crawling beneath my skin.
Tourists crowded the narrow sidewalks, darting into the outdoor gear and Western-wear shops that lined the main path through downtown.
The scent of charred burgers and green chile cornbread floated out of the Black Cat Brewhouse.
Next door, two children raced out of Charm’s Candy Shoppe, each holding one of their signature caramel apples.
Families carried bright yellow bags from Magic and Mischief, the T-shirt and souvenir shop.
I tried not to wince at the logo – a wand with sparks flying out of the end.
I headed for the corner where the familiar white spire and neon lights marked Spirits and Spells Tavern. An older man to my left stumbled as his pit bull tugged on his leash, dragging him straight in my direction. Further down the street, a mini schnauzer let out a frenzied bark when I walked past.
A simple walk downtown could be chaotic for me when people were out and about with their animals during the final days of summer. The chatter around me rose as people questioned what had gotten into their animals.
I kept my head down, passing by Mara, the deputy mayor’s daughter, who sat on a bench outside Ghoulishly Good ice cream. She let out a startled cry when her beagle yanked free from his leash.
‘Come back, Banjo!’ she cried.
The dog cantered toward me and flung his compact body into my arms. Sweet and slobbery kisses covered my cheeks.
‘Hello, Banjo.’ I laughed, despite my foul mood.
‘Gosh, Dr McGuire, I don’t know what’s gotten into him.’ Mara gave me an embarrassed smile. ‘I haven’t seen him run like that in a long time. He’s almost thirteen, and my dad says age is slowing him down.’
I held out the dog to get a look at him. Nice wet snout. Clear eyes. I was happy that not a single shock raced through my body. Banjo had helped Darren, the deputy mayor, and his pre-teen daughter through some rough days over the last few years, and I was thrilled he was in such good shape.
‘You obviously take great care of him.’
‘Thanks. He’s my best pal.’
‘Keep up the good work! We’ll see you two at his next checkup.’
She smiled, tugging Banjo back to the bench while I ducked inside the tavern.
Dark wood and low lighting made the space feel like a cave. A lingering scent of stale beer and day-old French fries coated the air. An old George Jones song warbled out of the ancient Wurlitzer in a back corner.
The town’s ex-mayor, and local farmer, Randall Pelgrew, was in his regular spot at the bar. A half-empty mug of the local dark stout sat in front of him. His longtime friend George Spellner sat next to him nursing an iced tea.
Randall’s thick gray brows bunched together as soon as he saw me. ‘Oof. Who put a bee under your bonnet?’
‘I’ve got a guess,’ George said, tilting his pointed chin to the end of the bar where Mo stood.
Sensing a storm brewing, they quickly vacated their stools.
As George walked past, he said in his deep gravel-laced voice, ‘Got a pregnant cow that had a real hard time giving birth last year. Could you come out and take a look at her when you get a chance? I promise to corral the other cows in a different pen.’
The last time I was at his farm, a dozen of his cows trotted toward me.
They were beautiful Jerseys with a dark fawn coloring.
I moved around the corral, greeting each of them by the head, but the more I interacted with them, the tighter they circled me until I had to climb over the fence.
George apologized profusely, but I waved him off knowing they meant me no harm.
He waited for my answer. Gave me that typical knowing look I got from most of the locals.
I bit my tongue. There was no use in telling him I did not have magic, only great training, and perhaps a sense of calm that attracted animals.
I’d learned long ago that my protests fell on deaf ears, though.
People in town had been telling themselves stories about the McGuires for so long that no one cared about the truth anymore.
There was also the fact that the mythical tales added cachet to our little town, which was always competing with other places like Salida and Leadville for precious tourist dollars.
‘Yes, I’ll stop by next week.’
‘Thanks, Dani,’ he said before heading out the door.
I pulled in a solid breath and walked to the end of the bar. Mo stood behind the long maple-hued counter having a friendly conversation with a man who, by the looks of it, had just purchased a ridiculously oversized cowboy hat from one of the local stores.
‘Excuse me. I need to have a word with the owner.’
The man heard the steel in my voice and inched away from the bar.
Mo gave me that customer-friendly, all-teeth smile. ‘Dani, can I get you a drink?’
‘Let’s not play games, Maureen. You know why I’m here.’
The tense set of my voice stopped more than one conversation in the room.
She tucked her chin. Good. Maybe she felt a little guilt. ‘I have some work to do in the office. Care to join me?’
Without waiting for an answer, she walked in the direction of the area behind the bar and past a small square kitchen. Her low-heeled boots clacked across the old pine floor. Tight silver ringlets hung down the back of her faded black T-shirt.
When we reached the door to her small, cramped office, she waved a hand as if inviting me in.
‘This is as far as I go.’
‘Suit yourself. Probably better that you don’t stay. It’ll start all kinds of rumors, and you know how the locals love to gossip.’
It was hard not to roll my eyes. She was the reigning queen of spreading tales in Harvest Moon. They may as well give her a crown and a damn scepter, because word from her spread faster than any Wi-Fi signal around here.