Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Dakota
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no.
Being back in this town is hard. Suffering in this rain is awful. But staring into those all-too-familiar eyes is utterly heart-stopping.
“Clint?”
He might remember me, but does he remember that night? That moment we shared? The one that changed everything?
Well, for me, anyway.
My heart’s pounding against my ribs, each beat a reminder that six years haven’t done enough to erase how I feel around him. I try to breathe, try to make sense of the sudden rush of emotions, but it’s impossible.
He’s so good looking my throat goes tight, especially in that worn cowboy hat it seems he still wears. And having Charlie in my arms, staring at him, is unbearable.
“Are you a cowboy?”
I dart my eyes toward Charlie. Panic rises like a bubble in my chest as my son speaks to the one man I never thought he’d meet.
Clint smiles. “Yeah, buddy. I work on a ranch in town.”
“Wow, that’s cool. Do you ride horses?”
How can they even hear themselves talk over the incessant thundering of my heartbeat? I glance around, seeking out an escape, but there’s nothing.
Why is this happening? Why now?
I try to calm my breath, but each exhale is not enough to ease the tremor running through my chest.
Clint crouches a little, his weathered hat casting a shadow over his eyes, and the smile he gives Charlie is genuine, warm. It makes my pulse flutter, even though I’m a mess.
“Yeah, I do,” he says. “It’s a lot of hard work, though. A lot of dirt. But I’ve been riding since I was about your age.”
Charlie’s face lights up, and it almost breaks me. His innocence. His curiosity. He has no idea that this man, this man standing here in front of us, is a ghost from my past. Someone I’ve tried so hard to forget.
And then Clint looks up at me, and the world tilts. His gaze is so intense it feels like he’s trying to read me from the inside out, as if he’s been searching for me in every corner of his life.
I swallow, my mouth dry, and fight the urge to turn and run. Even in the rain.
“I didn’t know you were back in town, Dakota.”
I force myself to speak, even though my voice feels foreign, distant. “Yeah… I didn’t expect to be.”
The words come out in a rush, almost like I’m apologizing for being here.
Charlie tugs at my sleeve, interrupting the awkward silence that’s settled around us. “Can we get a horse, Mom? I want to ride, too.”
I want to shout, “Not now!” I want to yank him away and hide from everything this moment represents. But I can’t.
Instead, I smile, pushing through the tightness in my throat. “We’ll see what we can do while we’re here.”
Clint watches me for a beat too long, his eyes narrowing just slightly, as if he’s trying to gauge my every move. Then his lips curl up into that familiar, knowing smile.
“So, how’s New York?”
I freeze, caught completely off guard. How’s New York?
My throat tightens again. How did he know I was in New York? He must have asked around about me. I do not know how to feel about that.
I try to collect myself, but the words come out in a jumbled mess.
“It… it’s been good. Busy. A lot of… a lot of work.” I sound foolish stammering over my words like a teenager. “I mean, it was… it was fine. But, uh, I’m not living there anymore.” I laugh, but it’s nervous, forced. “We’re sort of… working out our next move at the moment, me and Charlie.”
I cringe.
What an idiot.
Charlie tugs on my sleeve again, pulling me back into the moment. “Mama, do you think we can get a horse in our garden?”
I force another smile. “I don’t know about that, sweetheart.”
My heart is hammering in my chest, and I can barely stand still. Clint’s presence is suffocating.
“So, what brings you back?” Clint asks, his intense gaze boring through me. “It’s been a long time.”
I swallow hard, my mind racing. I can’t tell him the truth… not about everything.
“My grandfather passed away,” I say, forcing a calmness into my words that I don’t feel. “I’m here to take care of his estate. Get the house sold.”
“Sorry to hear that. He was a good man.”
I nod stiffly, wishing I could escape. This conversation, this feeling… it’s all too much. “Yeah. Thanks.”
There’s another pause, longer this time. I can see the storm brewing in his eyes, the unspoken questions lingering there. I can feel him still watching me, even as I turn my head away.
“Are you… are you planning on staying long?”
“I’m just here until the house is sold,” I say firmly. “Then I’ll be going. To wherever suits us best.”
Thank goodness the rain is easing up a little. I don’t know how much longer I can stand this.
Seems Clint feels the same way. “Welp, I need to get all this back to the ranch. See you both soon?”
I nod, even though internally I hope I never have to encounter him again. It’s just too much.
I watch as Clint loads the feed into his truck, my pulse pounding sickeningly hard. The way he moves, so purposeful and strong, makes my stomach twist with a mix of confusion and regret.
Regret for what? For leaving? For coming back? For Charlie having to grow up in the shadow of a past I can’t seem to outrun?
I don’t even notice how badly I’m shaking until Charlie grabs my hand, his tiny fingers wrapping around mine with innocent trust.
“Come on, baby.” I force myself to grin, trying to hide the mess I’m feeling inside. “Let’s get home, shall we?”
Charlie doesn’t argue, just nods eagerly, his face lit up with excitement.
“Mom! Did you hear him? He’s a real cowboy! He’s got horses and everything! I bet he can do all kinds of cowboy tricks! I’m gonna be a cowboy too! Can we get a horse, Mom? A real one, like Clint’s?”
I try to focus on his words, on how genuine and innocent his excitement is, but the tension in my chest only grows. “Maybe one day, sweetie. We’ll see. Right now, we just have to get home, okay?”
“But Mom,” Charlie continues, bouncing beside me, “Clint said being a cowboy is a lot of hard work. I can’t wait to do hard work! You know, like picking up hay and feeding horses. And riding them! I bet riding a horse is just like the movies! But maybe better ’cause it’s real.”
I force another smile, though the tightness in my chest is suffocating. “I’m sure it’s a lot of work, Charlie. But it sounds like fun, too. Maybe one day you’ll get to try it.”
Charlie practically skips ahead toward the car, his boots making little splashes in the puddles as he continues to talk excitedly.
“Maybe Clint can teach me to rope cows, too! He must know a lot about that stuff, right? Like… I don’t know…
riding through the rain with his cowboy hat and everything!
You think Clint has a horse that’s all trained and ready to race?
We could race him together, me and you. You can ride too, right, Mom? ”
I blink, a little overwhelmed. My son is so excited about this cowboy, about Clint. I can’t escape him, not even in my son’s imagination.
But the idea of Clint teaching Charlie, of him becoming a part of our lives… it’s too much.
“We’ll see, sweetie. We’ll see.” The words are a flimsy shield, but it’s all I have.
Charlie talks the whole drive home, his enthusiasm never dimming, his mind filled with dreams of being a cowboy, of roping cattle, of riding horses like Clint. I nod occasionally, trying to keep up with his rapid-fire chatter, but my mind keeps drifting back to that moment with Clint.
How he’d looked at me. How I’d frozen. How everything had come rushing back in an instant.
We finally reach the house, and I can’t wait to get inside, away from the rain and away from the memories that threaten to swallow me whole.
But Charlie, still full of energy, doesn’t seem to notice my discomfort.
He runs ahead to the living room, dropping his soggy coat by the door, his voice echoing through the empty space.
“Mama! I’m going to watch a horse cartoon. I want to see cowboys.”
I close the door behind us, the silence of the house pressing in. I feel a weight settle on my chest, and I just stand there, staring at the door like if I just focus hard enough, I can block out the past.
Charlie snaps me out of my thoughts, and I force a smile. “Let’s get you cleaned up first, okay? We’ll talk about the horses after.”
But even as I say it, I know it’s not just about horses anymore. It’s about Clint. And me. And Charlie, who doesn’t know anything about the complicated mess that’s been haunting me for six years.
I wonder how long I can keep pretending everything is fine.