Chapter 27
Cash
Iwasn’t sure where I was going when I got into my truck. The only things echoing inside my head were Doreen’s words.
You ruined my Tyler. Ruined him! He left home because of you!
My hands shook as I gripped the steering wheel, muscle memory taking over as I drove through the dark streets of Sagebrush.
I’d been seventeen the last time someone had looked at me with that much hatred, that much disgust. The night my father had found Tyler and me together in the barn, tangled up in the hay like we had every right to be there.
I could still see Tyler’s face that night. The way he’d gone pale as death when we heard footsteps, the way he’d scrambled for his clothes like his life depended on it. Because it had, in a way. Both our lives had depended on keeping that secret, and we’d failed spectacularly.
The headlights of my truck cut through the darkness as I found myself on the county road leading out of town.
I wasn’t consciously choosing a direction, just driving away from the scene of my latest public humiliation.
Away from Mike’s stricken face and the whispers that would follow me until the day I died.
When are you going to stop ruining everything in this town, Cash Callahan?
Doreen was right, wasn’t she? I’d ruined Tyler’s relationship with his family.
I’d corrupted their golden boy, their future rancher, their straight-A student who was supposed to marry a nice girl and give them grandchildren.
Instead, according to Doreen, he’d left town the day after graduation and never looked back.
I certainly had never heard from him again and it seemed like nobody in Sagebrush had either. I’d destroyed his life here.
And now I’d done it again. This time to Mike.
My phone buzzed somewhere in the truck, probably on the passenger seat where I’d thrown it.
I ignored it. I knew it would be Mike, and I couldn’t handle hearing his voice right now.
Couldn’t handle whatever excuse or apology he might offer.
Because the truth was, I’d seen it in his face back there.
The moment Doreen had started her tirade, Mike had looked like a man caught between two worlds.
And I knew which one he’d choose when push came to shove.
He was a pastor. A good man with a calling and a future in the church. I was just a fuck-up with daddy issues and a talent for destroying everything I touched. The math wasn’t complicated.
The phone buzzed again, then again. I reached over and turned it off without looking at it, tossing it back onto the seat with more force than necessary.
Whatever Mike had to say, I didn’t want to hear it.
Not when I could still see the shame in his eyes, the way he’d frozen instead of defending me.
Just like Tyler had frozen that night in the barn.
The road stretched out ahead of me, empty and dark.
I could keep driving. Hit the interstate and just go.
Leave Sagebrush in my rearview mirror for the second time in my life and never come back.
There was nothing holding me here anyway.
The ranch was a pile of rubble, my father was dead, and the man I’d stupidly started to care about had just learned exactly what it cost to be associated with Cash Callahan.
But even as I thought it, I found myself slowing down. Not stopping, just... slowing. Because somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear my father’s voice from that letter. The land needs someone who cares about it. And maybe you need the land too.
I pulled over to the side of the road and sat there in the cab of my truck, engine idling, staring out at the darkness. The smart thing would be to keep driving. Cut my losses and start over somewhere else, somewhere nobody knew my name or my history. I’d done it before. I could do it again.
But the thought of leaving Mike behind felt like a knife twisting in my gut.
I’d told him about Tyler. Sort of. But I’d never explained why I’d been so terrified of anyone finding out about us.
He probably thought I was just ashamed of him or embarrassed about who I was.
He had no idea that every time we’d touched, every time we’d been together, I’d been waiting for this exact moment.
The moment when someone would point their finger at me and remind everyone exactly what I was.
A corruptor. A ruiner of good men.
People like me didn’t get happy endings. We got midnight drives on empty roads and a lifetime of looking over our shoulders, waiting for the past to catch up.
I put the truck back in drive and kept going.
I don’t know how long I drove, only that the night seemed to have flown by.
Before I knew it, the first hints of gray and pink were pulling at the eastern horizon.
I’d driven through the night. But when I turned my phone back on to figure out where I was, I realized I’d been driving in circles. I was only forty miles from Sagebrush.
But that wasn’t what caught my attention. What caught my attention was the fifteen missed calls and dozen text messages that had accumulated while my phone was off. Most were from Mike, but there were others too. Brooks. Rowan. Even Dolly.
I scrolled through the messages with shaking fingers, my heart hammering against my ribs as I read.
Mike: Cash, please call me back. We need to talk.
Mike: I’m at the ranch looking for you. Where are you?
Mike: I know you’re hurting but please don’t run. Not from this.
Brooks: Cash, get your ass back here. Mike’s losing his mind.
Rowan: Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it. Come home.
Dolly: Sugar, that woman was way out of line. Don’t let her poison what you’ve got.
And then there were the voicemails, all of them from Mike.
I couldn’t bring myself to listen to them. Not yet. The sun was creeping higher now, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink that reminded me of better mornings. Mornings when I’d wake up next to Mike and watch him sleep, his face peaceful in the early light.
I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand, exhaustion hitting me like a freight train. I’d been running on adrenaline and hurt feelings for hours, but now that was fading, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness that made my whole body ache.
The smart thing would be to find a motel, get some sleep, and figure out my next move with a clear head. But I wasn’t feeling particularly smart. I was feeling like a man who’d just watched his worst fears come true in front of half the town.
I started driving again, this time with an actual destination in mind. There was a truck stop about twenty miles ahead where I could get coffee and maybe some food. Try to think through what the hell I was going to do next.
The parking lot was mostly empty when I pulled in, just a few big rigs and a handful of cars belonging to the overnight crowd.
I sat in my truck for a few minutes, staring at my phone.
Part of me wanted to call Mike back, to hear his voice and let him explain why he’d just stood there while Doreen tore me apart.
But a bigger part of me was terrified of what he might say.
Because what if he’d realized she was right? What if he’d had time to think about what being with me would cost him, and he’d decided it wasn’t worth it? I wasn’t sure I would live through hearing that right now.
I shoved the phone in my pocket and headed inside.
The fluorescent lights were harsh after the dim interior of my truck, and the smell of burnt coffee and grease hit me like a wall.
I grabbed a large coffee and a stale-looking sandwich, paying without making eye contact with the bored-looking clerk.
I found a booth in the back corner and slumped into it, my body finally starting to relax after hours of tension. The coffee was terrible, but it was hot and caffeinated, which was all I really needed. I pulled out my phone again, staring at all those missed messages.
Maybe I should at least read them. Maybe Mike had said something that would help me understand what had happened back there. Why he’d looked at me like I was a stranger when Doreen started her attack.
I opened the first voicemail with trembling fingers, Mike’s voice filling the small space around me.
“Cash, it’s me. I’m at the ranch looking for you.
I know you’re not here, but I needed to see it.
To understand.” There was a pause, and I could hear him moving around, probably kicking at debris.
“That woman, Doreen, she was wrong. About everything. You didn’t ruin Tyler, and you’re not ruining me.
You’re the best thing that’s happened to me since I got to this godforsaken town. ”
My chest tightened at his words, but I forced myself to keep listening.
The next message was shorter. “Cash, please. Just call me back. Let me explain.”
And then the last one, recorded just a few hours ago based on the timestamp.
“I know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now, but I need you to know something.
What happened tonight... it doesn’t change how I feel about you.
It doesn’t change anything between us. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not giving up on this. On us.”
His voice cracked slightly, and I had to close my eyes against the pain in it.
“I know I froze back there. I know I should have done more to defend you. But I was scared and caught off guard, and I’m sorry.
You deserved better from me in that moment.
Please don’t let hateful people win. Don’t let them drive you away from the life you were starting to build here. Come home, Cash. Please.”
There was a long pause, and then, so quietly I almost missed it.
“I love you.”
The phone slipped from my numb fingers, clattering onto the Formica tabletop. He loved me. Mike Johnson, the good pastor with his calling and his future, loved me. And I’d run away without giving him a chance to say it.
I buried my face in my hands, feeling like the biggest coward who’d ever lived. He’d stood there in shock while Doreen attacked me, and instead of giving him a chance to recover, to process what had happened, I’d bolted like a spooked horse. Just like I always did when things got difficult.
But what if he meant it? What if he really was willing to fight for us, even when it cost him everything?
I thought about his sermon from that first Sunday, about finding the courage to return to the places that scared us most. About healing and second chances and how sometimes the thing we thought we didn’t want turned out to be exactly what we needed.
Maybe I was the thing Mike needed, broken and complicated as I was. And maybe he was what I needed too. He was someone who saw past all my damage to something worth saving. He thought I was worth loving.
I picked up my phone and scrolled to his number, my thumb hovering over the call button. It would be easy to drive away, to disappear into anonymity somewhere else. But easy had never gotten me anything worth having.
But then I stopped, shoved the phone in my pocket, and got up from that sticky truck stop table. Mike Johnson loved me and he deserved better than a phone call at seven in the morning.
This was something I needed to do in person.