Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Cheyenne
My body ached with exhaustion as I unloaded Wildfire from Claire’s horse trailer. Thirty-two hours out on a search, snatching an hour or two of sleep at a time, was brutal. But it had all been worth it. We had found Scott in the entrance of Bear Hollow Cave. He was cold and scared but alive. We evacuated him and he was transported to the closest hospital for treatment, and soon, he would be reunited with his family. That knowledge made the physical toll worth it every time.
I took care of Wildfire, then headed inside, stripping off my filthy clothes to wash up quickly. I was torn between the long, hot shower I desperately wanted and the food I desperately needed. Trail food only went so far, and I hadn’t been able to eat a real meal at base camp, unable to shake that feeling of dark storm clouds on the horizon even after we’d found our missing hiker. But my body was insisting on a real meal now, and one glance at my bare kitchen cabinets had me grabbing the keys to my truck.
After a long search, there was only one thing I really wanted: a greasy burger and fries from Whiskey Creek Bar. Plus, there was nothing like the drive into town to help me zone out a bit. It was a funny thing. Out on horseback, you were one with the horse, one with the world. Acutely aware of every stone on the trail and every movement in the brush. But in the truck with the windows rolled up, the world passed by in a blur. Almost like a TV show you’d seen a thousand times before, something you’d tune out but still find comforting just the same.
But this time, driving into town felt different. With every passing mile, that feeling I’d had by the fire became stronger.
Something was coming.
The closer I got to the bar, the more sure of it I became. Worse, I had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t something coming.
It was someone.
Someone I hadn’t had to face in a very long time.
I tried to reassure myself it couldn’t be Rhett. Even if it was, that didn’t mean I’d have to interact with him. After all, he’d come back now and then to visit his family, and we’d managed to avoid each other completely. How many years had it been, anyway? Over ten, as hard as that was to believe. So, even if my premonition was right and Rhett Hawkins was back in the Bighorns, it didn’t have to involve me.
But my heart thudded with anticipation, and a familiar ache bloomed inside me. And I knew.
It had always been this way with him. Like an invisible string tied us together whether I wanted it to or not. I could feel the tension in that connection when he got close.
It had been a long time since I’d felt that ache, that burn of being close to him. At first, when I’d known he was visiting, it had felt like heartbreak. Like something was terribly wrong in the universe, because he was here but he wasn’t mine anymore. Over time, it had gotten easier. A muted ache instead of fresh pain.
He had been my first love, my first kiss, my first everything. No matter what I’d done to try to cut the ties between us, I hadn’t been able to.
When I pulled into the parking lot of the bar, my heart rose and sank all at the same time. The vintage panhead with leather saddlebags parked out front was one I’d recognize anywhere. It was Rhett’s pride and joy, a gift passed down from his grandfather. Memories crashed through me of all the times I’d held on to him on the back of it, laughing as the wind whipped through my hair, feeling completely content simply because we were together .
I stared at the bike, wondering if I should turn around and go home. While part of me was curious, the other part of me didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to feel the pain of being near him—the pain of something that had once been beautiful being so broken.
Rhett Hawkins had taught me what love was. But then he’d thrown my heart away like it meant nothing to him.
I let out a deep breath and forced myself to get out of the truck. I was hungry, and I wouldn’t let him take this from me, too. This was my post-search ritual, and only a coward would turn around and run away now. This was my town. My bar.
He’d left. I’d stayed.
I wouldn’t let him run me out of the place where I belonged. Rhett was the coward. Not me.
When I pushed open the door and walked in, I saw him standing at the bar with his back to me. His dark hair was still long, brushing the top of the black leather jacket he was wearing. He was stockier than he’d been, looking like a man instead of the teen I’d known, but even without seeing his face, I’d somehow still recognize him anywhere. And just the sight of him broke my heart, like the pieces he’d shattered had never quite healed.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself.
Pete waved from behind the bar. “Hey, Cheyenne! Heard about the search today. Congratulations! Want your usual?”
I forced a casual smile. “That would be great. Thanks.”
Pete glanced at Rhett, whose back was still to me, then realized what was happening and threw me an apologetic look.
Rhett turned slowly, facing me.
“Hey, Cheyenne,” he said. He leaned back against the bar and crossed his arms, lifting his chin so his eyes could meet mine under the rim of his black cowboy hat. There wasn’t even a trace of a smile on his face.
“Rhett,” I said, nodding. His name felt odd on my tongue. It was a name I’d avoided speaking for years. In the beginning, I’d ask Claire if she’d heard from him, if he was okay. I couldn’t help it. I had still loved him, despite his betrayal. But eventually, I’d stopped, my pride not allowing me to ask anymore. I lived my life as if he’d never existed, as if we’d never shared what we had shared.
But here he was, standing in front of me, back in my territory.
I couldn’t pretend he didn’t exist anymore.