44
W orse. It’s getting worse.
My hands hold the steering wheel in a death grip as I drive back to Runaway Ranch from town.
The doctor’s words play over in my head on a loop.
Get back to your cardiologist.
Slow down. Stop pushing yourself too hard.
If you’re not careful, you could die. The likelihood of a severe cardiac arrest is a certain possibility.
I woke early this morning, barely an hour after my flutter and snuck out of the cabin.
I left Charlie sleeping beside me. He’s headed to Bozeman today to finalize the ranch’s protected habitat status, but that hasn’t stopped him from leaving me numerous voicemails and texts.
I spent five hours talking to the doctor in Resurrection, with my cardiologist on Zoom, telling them about my heart, and listening to their advice. And it’s all the same.
Go home to get better.
But how? How do I go home after this summer?
Sadness pours into me.
I love this life. I don’t want to go back to my old one, but at what cost?
Is that the risk I take?
Live while accepting my fate?
Or go back to being quiet, knowing I had a cowboy who loved me and that was good enough?
What is enough?
My whole life I’ve never been afraid of dying. I’ve been afraid of not living, but now that I have lived, the thought of losing everything, the thought of a life without Charlie, is too painful.
Wasted. Everything seems wasted. This entire summer, all the miles on this old Skylark, all the checks off my bucket list, all the love I have for Charlie—wasted.
I imagine his future as I drive. He’ll meet someone else. A guest, a tourist, a local. Someone alive and healthy. They’ll have babies, a family, a long life together—everything I can’t give him. He’ll forget me.
And he should.
I let out a strangled cry. The thought of a life without Charlie has me feeling sick inside.
My gaze tracks the storm clouds rolling down off Meadow Mountain and over Resurrection proper. I punch the accelerator, steering through my tears.
It feels ominous. A sign I need to decide before it’s too late.
I inhale a steeling breath.
How can I leave? How can I go back to anything other than this heartbreaking, wild life?
For a split second, I’m back at that gas station in Winslow, a cool Coke bottle in my hand and a map spread in front of me. Would I change it if I could? Point my heart in a different direction?
No.
The answer is no.
I wouldn’t change it. Not for the world. Not for my life.
After this summer, I will never go back to living half-asleep. Of experiencing the world through my bedroom window, or on my computer screen.
All these miles, all these years, my heart was leading me to Charlie.
I have to give him the choice to accept it, to forgive me or not. To love me ...or not.
If he doesn’t, I’ll understand. I’ll move on.
It’s my mistake.
I have to own it.
I have to come clean.
Tell Charlie the truth.
Tame my heart.
My phone buzzes, and I sigh when I see Max’s name on the caller ID.
Why does he have to pick this moment to call? Still, I’ve been avoiding his calls ever since I decided to stay in Resurrection. I can’t ignore him anymore.
With trembling hands, I pull the car over to the side of the road, because I don’t trust myself to have this conversation and drive safely.
I put the phone to my ear. “Hi.”
Max exhales in relief. “So, you’re alive.”
“Barely,” I whisper, glancing at the storm clouds again. My heart beats crazily, an echo to my mind.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
Max swears. “You had a flutter.”
I almost drop the phone. “What? No.”
“I can tell, Ruby.”
He’s right. He can. My brother has been a part of my heart as long as I have had it.
“How many? How many flutters, Ruby?” Max’s panicked voice cuts through my muddled mind.
“Too many,” I say flatly.
“Fuck. I’ll come get you.”
I shake my head, over and over. “Don’t. Don’t bother.”
I feel my life slipping between my fingers.
I want to marry Charlie.
I want to live at the ranch.
I want so many things, but it feels like my time’s up.
“I know where you are.”
My eyes flash open, big as saucers. Dread caves in my chest. “What?”
“You’re in Resurrection, Montana. I called Molly. I found the Instagram you’ve been running.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Congrats, Max. Detective big brother for the win.”
“I’m coming to get you.”
Oxygen rushes out of my lungs. “No,” I blurt. “You can’t.”
“Why not?” A heavy silence, then, “Don’t tell me you’re staying.”
“Fine. I won’t.”
“Does he know?”
“Does who know?”
“The cowboy who loves you?”
I pinch my eyes. They’re leaking again. “He doesn’t love me.”
A big rig zooms by, shaking the car.
Max chuckles, a dry, hysterical sound. “Did you see that photo of you two by the creek? Because I did. He loves you, you idiot.” His voice breaks. “What’s it gonna do to the guy, Rubes?”
A shuddery breath rockets out of me. “I’m going to tell him.”
“Does it even matter?” Max asks, and I wonder if he means for me or for Charlie. Either way, he’s right.
“You’re an asshole, Max.”
“And you’re a liar, Ruby.”
It feels like I’ve been slapped. As I sit here, collecting myself, trying to be strong, I hear it. The worst sound.
Max is crying.
“You’re pushing yourself too hard.”
I swallow down the bitter lump in my throat. A tear slips down my cheek. “Max. Please. Stop.”
The last thing I need is an earful from my big brother about how I screwed up. I already feel like shit.
I feel broken. Wilted. Like a flower without petals.
“You are sick , Ruby!” he shouts, causing me to jump. “Life isn’t a fucking fairy tale. Start caring. And stop falling in goddamn love.”
I stare at the phone, wide-eyed and wounded.
It’s the cruelest cut.
But I deserve it. Deserve it for leading Charlie on. For putting my brother and my father and my heart through hell.
“Maybe you’re right, Max. Maybe I don’t deserve love.” I screw my eyes shut, a sob escaping my mouth. My tears keep coming, a steady stream of pain. “I don’t deserve anything. Or anyone. Because you want me to live my life like I’m in a cage.”
Max inhales, sharp. “That’s not what I—”
“Fuck you, Max.”
I hang up. My heart pounds so hard it hurts.
Numb, I watch a flock of birds sail across the sky.
Free.
They keep going and going and going.
They keep going.
If a heart stops beating, did it ever exist?
If I fall in love, does it even matter?
If everyone says no, why do I only hear yes?
I inhale a breath.
Then I turn off my phone, squeeze my eyes shut, and scream.
I need to feel alive. One last explosion of life that settles your soul. One last hurrah before I tell Charlie the truth.
I park my car in Charlie’s driveway and walk across the gravel drive that leads to the barn.
Though it fights with the clouds, the bright sunlight above fills me with energy, with electricity.
Max screaming at me was like a foreign shadow settling in my heart.
I don’t know how to process it. I’m angry and upset and I don’t like myself.
I want my sunflower back. I want my sun.
I need calm. I need to ride.
Ford, replacing a saddle in the tack room, blinks as I storm into the barn.
Charlie must have told him what happened this morning because he straightens up and says, “You’re supposed to be resting.” His light brown eyes scour my face, concern in his typically easy-going expression.
I know what he sees. Tears. Rage. Recklessness.
“Fuck rest,” I say breathlessly.
Ford stares, reaching for the radio on his hip. “Ruby ...”
I ignore him. “Leave me alone, Ford.”
After Max, I’m not in the mood to be told what to do.
I go to Arrow’s stall and let him out. He comes to me easily, knowing me by now. I see Ford disappear as I saddle up Arrow the western way. My mind goes over the instructions Charlie taught me. Pad first, next the saddle, secure the straps, then bridle.
There’s a tightness in my chest. My heart pumps out a warning for me to slow down.
Never.
I have too much to lose.
My home. My ranch. My cowboy.
When I’m finished, I reach up, my fingers skimming Arrow’s muzzle. “Hey,” I whisper, a wobbly smile tipping my lips. “We’re gonna do this, okay? Then I’m going to talk to Charlie. What do you think about that, you sweet, beautiful boy?”
Serious black eyes stare back at me. I press my face against his cheek, inhaling his hay and horse scent.
Then I swing myself up on Arrow’s hulking black back. My mother’s face flashes in my mind, and I touch the bracelet on my wrist.
Honor your heart until you become it.
This wild heart knows the answer.
One last ride.