Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The Ranch
I’d skipped dinner and stayed out past bedtime, only returning when the house was quiet and bedded down for the night.
Hadley had texted before she’d gone to sleep, but I hadn’t replied.
All of Cas’s personal belongings had been removed from the bathroom.
I was staring at my bedroom ceiling, my mind a whirl.
My chest was a hollowed-out cave.
In New York, my heart had been a blackened, charred mess. But being here, being with Cas, our honest conversations, him seeing me at my worst . . . something had begun to grow from the ashes of my pain.
I’d been momentarily stunned by Cas’s declaration. But after the shock had worn off, terror had been the next feeling.
Not because what he said frightened me.
Not because I wasn’t sure about what a future with him looked like.
But because I felt it too.
The magnetism between us. The easy laughter, the camaraderie; the pure joy that came with finding someone who completely understood you.
All of you.
Every crevice. Every shadow.
Did I know what Cas was short for?
No.
Did he know my favorite color?
No.
But we knew each other, the way two people are supposed to know each other.
The way my parents had known one another.
The way Hadley and Declan knew one another.
And I’d ruined it because my first instinct was to fight.
With a labored sigh, I threw off the covers and climbed out of bed. My bare feet touched the cool floorboards as I padded my way to the door.
I opened it slowly, hoping the hinges didn’t squeak. I went out into the hallway and listened for a moment at my father’s door, not sure what I was expecting to hear, but there was nothing. Not even the gentle sounds of his snoring.
The kitchen was dark and I moved toward the stove, careful not to bash my toe on the heavy wooden kitchen table leg. I turned on the burner and opened the spout of the tea kettle so it wouldn’t whistle and wake everyone up.
Just as the sound of frantic bubbles ricocheted through the copper tea kettle, the kitchen light flicked on.
I whirled.
Muddy stood with her arms crossed, the worn blue bathrobe tied around her waist, her silver hair braided down her back.
“Did I wake you?” I whispered.
She shook her head as she walked to the cabinet. She opened it and pulled out two mugs, and then she reached for the looseleaf tea in the mason jar by the stove.
I riffled through a drawer and extracted two tea strainers and handed them to her. While she filled the strainers, I put local crystalized honey into our mugs and poured in hot water.
Muddy opened the drawer and grabbed two teaspoons, and then handed me one. I stirred the water, watching the honey melt. She submerged a tea strainer into each of our mugs, and then waved me toward the den.
I sat down on the couch and held the hot steeping tea on my lap, wrapping my cold fingers around the mug.
Muddy closed the double doors, and then took a seat on the couch next to me. She set her tea on the end table.
“It’s time you and I had a talk,” she said. “I’ve bided my time. I’ve waited, but some things can’t wait anymore.”
I winced. “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?”
“I know about you and Bowman.”
I paused, and then nodded slowly. “Yes. He told me that. At the lake.”
“What the hell did you say to him?” she demanded, her brows slashing together.
“Is that really any of your business?” I fired back.
“Whatever you said made him take off on his motorcycle. So yeah, it is my business. This ranch is my business. You are my business.”
I kept hold of the mug with one hand and with the other, I rubbed my third eye.
“Salem,” she said, her tone softening. “Who do you think has been pushing you two together?”
My head snapped up and I stared at her. “What?”
She smiled and let out a low chuckle. “I’ll give it to you both. You did well trying to hide what was going on beneath everyone’s noses. But you never fooled me.”
“When did you know?” I asked, still in shock.
“The moment he introduced himself at the hospital,” she said. “I knew what was going on between Declan and Hadley before they did. And I knew what was going on between you and Bowman before you did.”
“He and I—we’d already met, Muddy,” I said. “The night of my layover in Denver.”
“Oh?”
“It was pure coincidence that we wound up on the same airplane and figured out who the other one was. We’d already—we’d—” I sighed. “We spent the night together.”
“Well, of course you did.” She reached for her mug. “The first time I saw you two together, he was looking at you like he couldn’t wait to get you naked again.”
“Muddy!”
“What? I’m not a prude. And knowing the blush in your cheeks and spring in your step the last two weeks, I’d guess you’re not a prude either.”
I groaned.
She patted my knee. “So tell me what happened at the lake and I’ll help you fix it.”
“I don’t know if it can be fixed,” I said softly.
“Love fixes everything.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?”
“Of course I do. Love brought you home, Salem. Love is going to fix your relationship with your father. Love will heal you. If you let it.”
My throat tightened.
“You never get over the death of someone you love,” she said. “You just learn how to live around it. But it’s always there. Like a knot in a tree.”
“Cas never said he loved me,” I admitted. Just that he fell hard and fast. Still, that wasn’t him declaring I love you.
“Not with words, maybe.” Muddy brought the mug to her lips. She took a tiny sip and lowered it.
I thought back to the moment when he’d gotten into the shower with me, clothes and all. He’d held me while I sobbed and hadn’t asked what it was about. Because he knew. He always seemed to know.
“Did he tell you when he was coming back?” I asked.
“Before the wedding, I’d imagine. But he didn’t say.” She cocked her head to the side. “You call him Cas.”
“That’s his name.”
She shook her head. “To everyone else, he’s Bowman. With you, he’s Cas.”
“I hurt him,” I said, my lips wobbling. “I didn’t mean to. I just—that’s what I do to people.”
“That’s not what you do.”
“No?” I got up and set my tea mug on the fireplace mantle. Then I began to pace. “I hurt Dad.”
“He hurt you too.”
“I hurt Gideon,” I added. “I hurt everyone around me.”
“Hadley doesn’t feel that way. Poet, Wyn. I’m guessing they don’t either. Your problem isn’t that you don’t love people, Salem. You do love them. And when you do, you love them deeply. You love them on a level that’s hard for other people to understand. That’s what I told Bowman.”
I came to a halt. “You told him that?”
“Yes.”
“Hadley told him that I’d break his heart and that he should stay away from me.”
“She probably thought she was doing the right thing.”
“Declan told me Cas isn’t a family man.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think I drove away the only man who truly understands me. And doesn’t hold my flaws against me.” I sighed. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t either.” She smirked.
“He’s going to leave,” I pointed out. “He’s on the rodeo circuit.”
“Yes.”
“And I live in New York.”
“Uh huh.”
“How would that even work?”
“No idea.”
“Muddy,” I snapped. “You’re supposed to be full of wisdom and knowing.”
“I am,” she said. “But you’re you. And you have to figure things out for yourself. All I can do is guide.”
“And matchmake,” I drawled.
“And matchmake,” she agreed.
I bit my lip as I pondered where we were supposed to go from here.
“You haven’t told Hadley, have you?” Muddy asked.
I shook my head. “I wasn’t sure what to tell her. And I don’t want . . .”
“What?”
“I don’t want to steal her thunder, you know? I have big moments, big emotions. But she’s getting married. It needs to be all about her. I don’t want to cause any drama.”
“Huh,” she picked up her mug again. “Way to have some self-awareness, sugar. I call that character growth.”