Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Val had suffered from bouts of insomnia before, but usually they’d been caused by worry. Worry about her dad’s health. Worry about Biggs having too much control over her life. That sort of thing. Now, though, she’d had two nearly sleepless nights because of her relationship with Mark. She had to find a way to see him, even felt desperate over it.
Yet, so far, she’d been blocked every time.
Worse, this lack of slumber had been affecting her ability to perform. Doing an act that was so inherently physical required not only a healthy body but a well-rested one, and Val’s body was anything but. By her third night in a row of performances, she felt both run ragged and run down.
Val had loved trick riding since she’d been small. She’d loved it no matter what had been going on in her life—even while with Biggs—but now, the pure glee of being on her mare’s back and landing every stunt, even the most difficult ones, were falling flat.
It became bad enough tonight that she narrowly missed landing at a wrong angle which could’ve resulted in a serious injury. Thank goodness she wasn’t scheduled for anything tomorrow or she would’ve had to cancel for safety reasons.
For the first time, she considered if she might be able to do something else for a living. She didn’t want to, and doing such a thing during her prime riding years felt tantamount to career suicide. But if she and Mark were to bust up over their lack of time together, she knew she’d regret losing him. They really hadn’t had a chance to figure out if they worked well as a couple or not due to never sharing the same physical space.
Her eyes burned, and while she knew most of that likely came from exhaustion, a portion of it also came from sadness. She didn’t want to lose him, and that prospect was beginning to feel inevitable. It made for a bleak future.
Tap, tap-tap-tap. Tap.
A knock on her trailer door had her patting a tissue to the corners of her eyes. That rhythm meant it could only be Mitzi, and Val didn’t want to admit to feeling sorry for herself. Right now, she wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup to help cover the evidence of her sorrow, either. Her bestie would understand, but Val didn’t feel like getting into it.
Hoisting the most cheerful expression she felt capable of, Val opened the door, keeping the interior lights dim. Maybe that would camouflage her red and puffy eyelids.
“Hey, Val, you received a package.”
While in a fairly depressed state recently, she’d arranged for some cutesy toiletry items to be delivered to her. A new fabric cosmetic bag with flowers all over it, as well as a scarf with horses that she could wear during the cooler months.
But Mitzi wasn’t handing the package over. In fact, she was staring at Val with an ear-to-ear grin and wide expectant eyes. What was she doing?
“Where is it?”
“Well, what I have for you is a letter, actually. And guess who it’s from.” Her last word came out all singsong.
“Who?”
At last, her assistant handed the envelope over, and immediately Val was hit with notes of leather and cotton. Mark’s cologne.
Pulse ramping up to full speed, she snatched the letter from Mitzi’s grasp, tearing it open like it was a million-dollar lotto check. She caught sight of this tiny yet neat handwriting on the front, and for some reason the fact that he hadn’t printed out the envelope or used a stick-on label made it that much more personal.
Val,
Man, I wish I could be with you in person. I know I put that in every text and say it every time we speak, and that’s because it’s true. But this missing you thing has gotten bad lately. Painful even, not that I’ve told you that. I’m thinking about starting this letter over just because I wrote that down like some sappy idiot.
Val giggled, moisture cresting in her eyes again. She rapidly blinked so she could see.
I guess I needed you to know that I want to be with you. Properly with you. I’m going to make a confession to you. I’ve been talking about our challenges with my mom and sister. This is actually my mom’s idea, this letter. She brought out this box of written correspondence she and Dad wrote to each other back in the day, and suggested I try this. So I am.
What do you think?
Val shook her head. It wasn’t like she could react in real time to a piece of paper. She inhaled again, eager to fill her lungs with his scent.
I’d appreciate if you could write me one back. But only if you want to. It feels a bit weird in a way, writing all this out. But kind of not weird, too. Wow. That didn’t make any sense. Feel free to ignore that last bit.
I miss you tons.
Always,
Mark
Val released a laugh that was part sob, but she didn’t care. She held the letter to her chest, hugging it to her.
“So, it was a nice letter, I take it,” Mitzi said. Val had forgotten that she was there.
“Yeah.” She leaned over and grabbed a new tissue, dabbing at her eyes and delicately blowing her nose. “Yeah, it really was.”
Val didn’t know why it had impacted her so. She read it again. Then, again. It was different somehow, knowing that Mark had taken the time to sit down and write out these words by hand. That it’d been these strings of thoughts all in one package rather than in little bursts like in a group of texts. She wondered when exactly he’d done this and checked the postmark.
Two days ago.
It was like receiving a time capsule.
And suddenly, she started searching her trailer for something she registered wouldn’t be there.
“Mitz, can you run to a store somewhere and grab me some stationery and envelopes?”
Mitzi was in the process of walking out the door. “And stamps. Yep. I’m on it.”
Stamps. That was right. People used to have to go to so much more trouble to communicate across long distances. It touched her heart that not only Mark had been seeking advice about what to do about missing her, but that he’d intentionally followed through, too. It was better than receiving a bouquet of flowers or a box of chocolates. This was so much more personal. Caring. Loving.
She loved him.
The ramifications of understanding that hit her like a bolt of lightning. She was in love with Sheriff Mark Talbot. It wasn’t even feasible, falling for him. Yet that was what had occurred. They might not have tallied up much time side by side, but the amount of time they’d spent on the phone, on Zoom calls, on texts… It added up.
And she wanted more of it with him. Even if it came in these little rectangles of paper.
As soon as Mitzi returned to her with the supplies in tow, Val situated herself at her vanity and set about writing her letter. It needed to be fantastic. Monumental. Something memorable that shared her thoughts and feelings like he had.
Yet, for some reason, as soon as she pressed the tip of her new pen to the stationery—the pen was golden glitter, and the stationery was dark and covered in tulips since her bestie knew her so well—Val froze. She felt as if she knew Mark better than anyone else but didn’t know what to say that seemed good enough.
Important enough.
Stymied, she tried again. And once more. Nothing came to her. So she looked through his one more time. It was so beautiful. Thoughtful. Sweet. She sniffed it for the dozenth time and welcomed the sensation of familiarity it gave her, transporting her back to the hospital when he dad had been in surgery and Mark had wrapped his arm around her. What the periwinkle of his irises had looked like that first night she met him.
Even when she’d been an absolute stranger to him, he’d proven to be her defender. Her protector. Her caregiver. And just like that, she knew what to write.