54
“Y ou okay?” Charlie asks as he helps me out of his truck.
“I’m okay.” I give him a bright smile. “I’m ready.”
So ready.
For a long second, I stand in his gravel drive, hands clasped to my chest. The sight of the ranch, of his cabin, brings tears to my eyes.
Sunlight streams over the pasture, but the air is cooler than when I first arrived back in June.
Closing my eyes, I inhale. I drink it in.
I let the sunlight bathe my skin. After being in the hospital for so long, even just walking on my own two feet is heaven.
I feel reborn.
Resurrected.
Home.
I am home.
“Sunflower?”
I look up at Charlie. His intent gaze hasn’t left my face. “Yeah, Cowboy?”
“C’mon, baby. Let’s get you inside.”
He offers me his hand and I take it. Slowly, side by side, we walk up the porch to the front door of his cabin. A riotous cheer goes up the second we step inside the kitchen. My mouth drops.
“Out,” Charlie thunders.
“Shhh,” I giggle, slapping his bicep.
Everyone’s here. Fallon and Stede with pies from The Corner Store and a growler of beer from Nowhere. My father and brother, their bags packed and ready to head to the airport later. Tina and Chef Silas. And, of course, Charlie’s brothers. They pour out whiskey and coffee in Styrofoam cups.
My flowers from the hospital have been rescued. They sit on the counter, on top of the fridge, in the hallway. Daisies, sunflowers, peonies, violets.
My heart feels so airy, so light.
My family.
My favorite sides of my life, getting along with each other.
Charlie stares at the surprise intruders, looking like he wants to boot them out on their ass. He hasn’t let me out of my sight since I woke up.
“Welcome home,” Fallon says, tackling me with her hug. When she pulls back, she scowls at Charlie. “Relax, big guy.”
Davis kisses my cheek. “Welcome home.”
I blush.
Wyatt slings an arm around my shoulder. “You know you’re like a ghost now, Fairy Tale.”
“Wyatt,” Charlie growls.
I place a palm on his ridged chest. “You’re yelling.”
Charlie blows out a frustrated breath and scowls. “I said no parties.”
“It’s not a party. It’s a homecoming,” Ford rebuts, giving me a wink. “You’re back, aren’t you? To stay.”
My lips rise into a smile. “I am.” I glance at my father. “Sorry, Daddy.”
The pride in his eyes fills my soul. “Don’t be.” He claps Charlie on the back. “I’d tell you to take care of her, but you already did.”
Hard emotion crosses Charlie’s face, but he says nothing, just clears his throat and shakes my father’s hand.
The sight has my heart close to exploding.
After I woke up, I was in the hospital for a week of midnights and mornings.
My father and Charlie spent some time together.
Dad saw how much Charlie loves me and protects me, so it’s easier for him to let me go.
My father turns to me. “Looks like you got a real wild life here, Ruby Jane.”
I beam. “I do, Daddy.”
From the kitchen island, Stede’s voice cracks. “Get Charlie a whiskey. Boy could use a drink.”
I glance at my cowboy. Face pained, shoulders slumped, Charlie looks like having everyone in his house is wreaking havoc on his patience.
Palming the small of my back, Charlie guides me to an island stool. “You should sit down.”
“I’m okay,” I tell him. “I sat enough in the hospital.”
He doesn’t press, but he grunts unhappily, and hangs back near my side, arms crossed, brow furrowed.
He’s angry. He’s not okay.
I’m worried about him.
Shifting his weight, he tears a hand through his hair. “I’ll get your bags.” He kisses my temple, then turns on his boot and strides out of the kitchen, slamming the screen door with an iron grip.
Wyatt shoots a worried glance at Davis and follows.
I chew my lip. The hospital was always chaotic, so we never had time to talk about what’s happened. And Charlie needs to talk. I can see the rage eating him up, the pain on his face when he looks at me. I don’t want pain for him. I want his grumpy smile. I miss him.
My brother hands me a bottle of water. “How are you feeling?” he asks.
“I feel good.”
I’ve been ordered to take it easy for the next three weeks. No stress. No exercise. But each day, I get stronger. I have better medications. Machines to monitor my heart. All the doctors concluded they’ve seen nothing like it.
Like me.
I’m miraculous.
I run my gaze over the cabin, my friends and family, and smile at my brother. “I lived, Max.”
Unshed tears line his eyes. “I know you did.” He shoves a lock of hair out of his face and takes my hand. “I’m sorry for what I said to you that day on the phone, Rubes. I tried too hard to protect you.”
“You just love me,” I say with a big smile.
“I do. And he does too.”
I follow Max’s nod, my eyes landing on Charlie’s massive figure in the doorway, talking to Stede.
Max chuckles. “I still don’t think life is a fairy tale, but you sure are a goddamn miracle.”
Smiling, I lock eyes with Charlie. I make a move to go to him, but I shift too fast and the sudden movement wrenches my healing rib. I try to keep my face neutral, but Charlie’s quick. At the sight of my wince, he immediately breaks conversation and heads my way.
He reaches me and takes my arm. “You’re sitting down,” he says, voice tight. “Now.”
Max waves his beer. “He’s right. Onward, Rubes.”
I roll my eyes but let them herd me into the living room.
Two hours later, after a lunch of apple pie and whiskey, the house clears out.
Stede and Fallon leave after hard hugs all around.
Tina drives my father and brother to the airport.
Which leaves me, Charlie, and his brothers sitting around the living room.
I curl up next to Charlie on the couch and smile at the sunlight streaming through the windows. “Today was the best day.”
Tracing slow lines over my bare thigh, Charlie presses a kiss to my temple. “Sunflower status?”
“Most definitely.” I scan my eyes around the room, happiness blooming inside of me. “Everyone I love confined to one impossibly small space. Perfection.”
“Gonna get even better,” Wyatt cackles, kicking a boot up on his knee. “Wait until you see what I got here.” He waves his phone and leans over Charlie to hand it to me.
I gasp and rocket to sitting. “Oh my god. You used the photo.”
On the front page of the Billings Gazette is the photo I took of Declan Valiante with the headline: DEVELOPER’S AFFAIR SCANDAL! RANCH SABOTAGE! VALIANTE CAUGHT IN THE ACT!
Eyes wide, I look up at Charlie. “When did you do this?”
A blanket of awkward silence fills the room. I see Ford and Davis communicating silently.
Finally, Davis speaks up from his spot in the recliner. “We put it out after you were hurt,” he says, offering an explanation. “Valiante won’t have a campaign after this.”
“What’d I say?” Charlie snaps, grabbing Wyatt’s phone like he could crush it. Anger hardens the line of his jaw. “No stress.”
Wyatt blanches. “Shit. Sorry.”
“Charlie.” I lay a hand on his clenched forearm. Anger comes off him in waves. “Let’s take a walk.”
His piercing blue eyes snap to me. “You should rest,” he says on a rocky exhale.
Ignoring him, I stand. Charlie’s immediately on his feet.
“Ten minutes,” I tell him, getting a nod of agreement from Davis.
“Ruby.”
“Please.”
He stares at me, then nods, slips his Stetson on his head.
We don’t talk about where we’re headed, we just drift there. Automatically.
Intrinsically.
Charlie and I come to a stop in the pasture, our gazes on the charred remains of the barn. Rubble litters the blackened earth of the pasture, and the scent of smoke still lingers. The memories of the destruction of that night, the sight of an empty field of horses, has hot tears filling my eyes.
“I’m so sorry about the barn,” I whisper.
“We’ll rebuild,” Charlie says, gruffly. “It’s all replaceable, Ruby. You’re not.”
I link my fingers with Charlie’s. He makes a noise in his throat, pulls me closer.
“Charlie,” I say. “Are you okay?”
“I just ...” Shoulders tensing, then crumpling, he shakes his head.
“Where are you?” I whisper to him. My hand slides to his muscled back. “Don’t pull away from me. Please.”
Flinching, he turns, tucking me carefully into his arms. “Never.”
I shift to look up at him. “Then talk to me.”
He blows out a breath. “I can’t unsee it, Ruby.” His chest collapses, giving in. Letting me tug the truth out of him, even if it hurts. He points to a spot on the pasture. “I see you there.” His handsome face twists. “You were dead, baby. It wrecked me, always will.”
“I know,” I whisper to him. “I feel it too.”
Strange words, but Charlie nods like he understands.
That’s my fate and Charlie’s heartbreak.
To live it. To remember.
It’s fitting. Resurrection. Sometimes I feel like I can still remember the way it felt. To die. To come back. Charlie’s mouth on mine, his fingers tangled in my hair, his tears on my cheek.
I can’t, really. But I feel like I can.
Immortal because Charlie will never let me go.
My cowboy restarted my heart and brought me back to life.
I’m the person I wanted to be, the heart I had to find in this big world, the voice of my mother. That night is a part of me and it will never let either of us loose.
Which means I have to live now. Every second Charlie and I have together is precious. And we plan to live every one of those seconds like it’s our last.
“I’m okay,” I tell him. “I’m here. Alive. Still yours, Charlie.” I reach up to cup his cheek, running my hand over his beard. His blue eyes meet mine. An overwhelming amount of love shines in them. So much love. “You just feel my heart, and I’ll feel yours, and we’ll know where the other’s going.”
Charlie doesn’t say anything. He just kisses me, his breath filling my body, his lips heating every inch of my skin. Our hearts beat a steady rhythm, powered up and pumping.
My lips rise into a smile against his and Charlie’s lips do the same.
Matching me.
I break away from his kiss. I’m still smiling. “There”—I press up on tiptoes to poke his stern smile—“is my Cowboy. The man I love.”
Charlie steals my fingers, brings them to his lips and kisses each fingertip. Then my wrist. My heartbeat.
Tears flood my eyes.
This man. He leaves me breathless.
“There,” he rasps and points at the spot where I died. “That’s where we put our garden. Right there, baby. And the first thing we plant ...”
“What’s that?”
He grins. “Sunflowers.”