Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Rhett
Friends.
It was a bigger victory than I’d expected. I’d half expected Cheyenne to tell me to go to hell. But she hadn’t. It was an opportunity and I wasn’t going to waste it.
Not this time.
I knew I’d already pushed, and Cheyenne wasn’t the kind of woman you could keep pushing and expect anything good to happen. So I backed off and kept things light. Told her I was ready to sleep. Thought she’d take the chance to get some space, but she didn’t. She curled up with a book in the chair in my room, like she didn’t really want to leave.
Crazy. When I’d come back to Wildwood, I’d never in a million years thought I’d end up back here at Cheyenne’s place, actually able to call her my friend.
I probably owed Thomas a thank-you—despite the fact that he’d tried to kill me.
On the other hand, Thomas was sick in the head and he was as angry at Cheyenne as he was me. Wouldn’t put it past him to go after her next.
That thought had me gripping the sheets so tight that Cheyenne jumped up and ran over to me. She felt my head like she was checking for fever and ran her eyes over my body as if looking for new injuries.
And instantly switched my thoughts away from Thomas to something else entirely.
“Are you hurting?” she asked, snapping me back to the present moment.
“Uh, a little.”
She gave me a worried look. “Do you need anything? Stronger meds, something to drink—”
The corner of my mouth went up and the words tumbled out before I had the sense to stop them. “Like top-shelf whiskey?”
Her worried look changed to stern disapproval. But there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes. “Absolutely not.”
“Couldn’t help but try,” I said, flashing her a grin to make her relax. I didn’t want to tell her what I’d been thinking about Thomas. For one thing, I didn’t want to worry her. For another, I was thinking it might be a good idea to stick close to her, make sure she was safe. Not that I was in any kind of shape to do that yet. But still. I remembered the look in Thomas’s eyes when he’d talked about her, and I didn’t like it at all.
I also knew if I told Chey I wanted to stick around to protect her, she’d be sure to boot me out the door—injuries or no injuries.
Cheyenne was a stubborn woman and I liked it. Just meant I needed to know how to work around that strength instead of against it.
I woke the next morning with another raging headache after a night of fitful sleep.
“I could kill Thomas Smith,” I muttered before opening my eyes and looking for Cheyenne. She wasn’t there anymore, and the disappointment hit hard.
I rolled out of bed and walked across the room, grateful to feel steadier on my feet than the night before. When I opened the bedroom door, I was hit with the life-giving smell of strong coffee.
“Thank God,” I said, putting my hand over my heart and closing my eyes in reverence. I had a feeling coffee was the best medicine for me this morning. Better yet, Cheyenne would be in the kitchen, and I looked forward to that. I liked being around her, and I wanted to see what things were going to look like now that we were friends.
As I’d tossed and turned the night before, I’d thought a lot about us. How the timing had been wrong, but that didn’t mean we were. Fact was, we still fit, even all these years later.
Facing death had made me think about some things. Brought some clarity to the confusion I’d been feeling over what I really wanted out of life. Made me realize what mattered and what my next steps were.
I didn’t regret leaving. It had been the best thing for both of us. We’d been too young to even know who we really were, and the pressure I’d been under at the ranch was a ticking time bomb. If I’d stayed, we’d have ended up married just like Travis and his girl—and then probably imploded in an ugly mess the way they had.
Cheyenne deserved a hell of a lot more than that. And I’d deserved more than to be strapped down into building my dad’s dreams and watching my own die a little more every day.
But I regretted that I’d let her go too easily. Regretted letting nearly ten years pass before trying again. Regretted letting my pride get in the way of fighting for what I really wanted.
Wasn’t going to do that again.
I had no idea if she’d actually give me a second chance. But now that I knew what I wanted in life, I was going to fight like hell for one.
I walked into the kitchen, disappointed when I found it empty. I glanced out the window and saw her heading to her barn. Couldn’t believe that shack was still standing all these years later. I knew she loved it, but the weathered gray building looked almost ready to give up the ghost.
I went to the cabinet where the mugs had been when we were kids and smiled when I opened it, seeing that it hadn’t changed. Cheyenne’s collection was smaller than her grandmother’s had been—she only had three mugs lined up in a row beside an empty space I assumed was for whatever mug she was using today. I reached for one, then stopped when I saw what was tucked into the back corner of the cabinet.
I pulled it out and looked at it, flooded with memories. Falcon Ridge Ranch. Gold inscription on a forest-green mug. We used to sell them in our gift shop, but I knew that wasn’t where she’d gotten this one. This was the mug I’d given her the first time we’d spent the night together. We’d slept out under the stars on the quilt from my bed, and I’d snuck into the house the next morning, stealing two cups of coffee to take back out for us. Travis had caught me and snickered, but he’d promised not to say anything to Mom and Dad.
Cheyenne had kept that mug all these years.
My chest swam with grief. It sucked that we’d found something so sweet together so young, when I’d been too stupid to know how precious it was.
I knew how precious it was now though. And seeing that mug gave me a glimmer of hope that maybe it still meant something to her, too. That thought cheered me up, made me whistle as I put it back into the cabinet.
I grabbed one of the other mugs and filled it with coffee, closing my eyes and inhaling the scent before taking a sip. Damn, it was good. Strong and dark, just like I liked it. Then I rustled around in her drawers until I found the ibuprofen she’d given me the night before and popped three before heading outside to find her.
She was mucking out a stall when I got there. I paused in the entryway, wondering how it was possible for someone to look so pretty while shoveling horse manure. Her tight jeans were tucked into brown cowboy boots, and her green flannel shirt was fitted enough to give a glimpse of the toned figure underneath. She had her long hair pulled back in a braid, but it had loosened with her work, and soft tendrils hung around her face. Even working, she was gorgeous and I didn’t want to take my eyes off her.
When she saw me, her face brightened—a stark difference from when she’d seen me on that first night at the bar. Reminded me more of the old days, when I’d been the one to put so many smiles on her face.
Made me want to whistle again.
“You look good,” she said, smiling.
“Thanks,” I said, winking. “Always nice hearing that.”
She rolled her eyes. “I mean you look healthier . Your color is better than yesterday. But you are not supposed to be out of bed, although I imagine the fresh air has to be good for you. How are you feeling?”
“Head’s still killing me. But other than that, okay.”
“I can get you some more pain meds.” She put down her manure fork and moved like she was headed inside.
“Already found them,” I said, putting a hand on her arm to stop her from walking by me.
She looked down at it, then at me, but didn’t move away. She was silent for a moment before shaking her head and stepping out of my reach. “Great. You also found coffee, I see.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I studied her. She was flustered, like she wasn’t sure what to do now that we were supposedly friends again. I had to admit I wasn’t sure, either. There wasn’t a rulebook for how to be easy and friendly with an ex.
Especially when I wanted to be more.
“Any dizziness? How’d you sleep?” It was clear she’d decided to go with her comfort zone—medical questions.
“Not dizzy anymore. Didn’t get enough sleep though. When I turned in, I felt so tired I thought for sure I’d sleep like the dead. But it wasn’t that easy.”
She frowned. “Was it the pain? Maybe we should have gone with the heavier medicine.”
I shook my head, deciding to level with her and see how she reacted. “Nah. It was being in your bed.”
She flushed. “That’s not my bed anymore.”
“No, but it used to be. It felt weird, being back there. It’s so familiar, but also so different. Doesn’t look the same. Your stuff’s gone. Doesn’t smell the same, either—smells like laundry detergent instead of you. Like I said, weird.”
Her blush turned darker. “I didn’t think about that being strange for you. It’s been so long…”
“There’s things you never forget.”
Her eyes met mine, searched them. “No,” she finally said. “I guess you don’t.”
I stepped closer, pulled one of those loose tendrils into my fingers. “I missed a lot being gone. Missed a lot of changes in my family. Missed holidays, missed watching everyone grow up and find their own way. But you know what I missed most?”
“Don’t say it,” she whispered, stepping another step backward. “I’m trying, Rhett. I’m trying to be your friend. But if you…”
I stepped toward her anyway. “I missed you, Chey.”
“You can’t say things like that,” she said, her voice shaky. “It’s not fair. It took me too long to get over you. You can’t just come back and make me confused again.”
“I’m not trying to make you confused. Especially when I’m thinking more clearly than ever. There’s a lot of things I want to say to you, and I guess top of the list is that I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?” She asked it like a challenge.
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t stronger, wiser, older. I’d say I’m sorry we fell in love as kids, but I’m not. Yeah, the timing was all wrong. But even so, that time of our lives was precious. Something I’d never give up.”
Grief passed over her like a shadow. “And yet, you did give it up.”
“I did.” I nodded. “And I can’t say I’m sorry I left. It was something I needed to do. But I’m sorry I didn’t handle it better. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I gave up on us.”
She stared at me for a long time before she spoke. When she did, it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “We shouldn’t talk about this now,” she said, her face turning stubborn. “You’re supposed to be in bed. You shouldn’t be thinking, much less rehashing the past like this. We can talk when you’re better.”
“Chey—”
“No.” She raised her hands in defense. “I’m trying to be your friend and take care of you while you recover, but I can’t do that and dig all this up at the same time. It’s too hard. Because what I really want, Rhett, is answers.”
“Answers?”
“Yes, answers. I want to know why . Why you left the way you did. Why you picked up in the middle of the night and took off without even letting me know you were leaving.” She threw up her hands, pacing. “How you could go from spending every single day with me to never seeing me again or even calling to tell me you were okay. I was so worried. Couldn’t eat for days. People break up. I get that. But what you did… It was so much worse.” Her voice broke.
“Hold on now,” I said, raising my voice. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” She stopped pacing and looked at me, eyes full of sadness.
I stared at her in disbelief, then put my hands on my hips. “No, it’s not. I called you every night for two weeks straight. You wouldn’t talk to me. So you can blame me for leaving, but I am not the reason we went from spending every day together to never talking again. That’s all you.”
Her face went white. “What do you mean you called me?”
“Don’t you remember? I called you the night I left. Pulled over at a motel in Idaho and the first thing I did was call you to explain. Your grandmother answered. Came back on the line a minute later and said you refused to take my call.”
Her voice was shaky when she finally spoke. “She never told me you called.”
“What?” I jerked back like I’d been slapped.
“She … she didn’t tell me.” Her voice was a whisper. “I never knew. I don’t … I don’t understand.”
“I don’t, either.” But I had some ideas. And I was pissed about it.
“I can’t.” She shook her head and walked toward the house.
“Chey, stop.” Headache be damned. We were going to have this out.
She froze but didn’t turn around. I went to her and grabbed her arm, yanking her around to face me. Anger flared on her face, but she didn’t pull away.
“You wanted answers, you’re going to get them. You asked why I didn’t call, but now you know the truth. I did. So apparently you’ve been angry at me for ten years without even knowing the truth of what happened.”
“Then tell me, Rhett. What happened?” She shook her head. “I don’t know why Gran didn’t tell me you called. But that doesn’t change the fact that you left. You left. And you knew. That night, the way you made love to me… You knew.” Her voice broke. “You knew you were leaving and you didn’t even say goodbye.”
“Yeah, I knew.” I spit out the words. “I knew, and it was killing me. I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d ask me to stay and I wouldn’t be able to say no. Not to you. But I had to leave. You may not understand that, but it’s true.”
“Why? Why’d you have to leave?” she demanded, crossing her arms.
I gritted my teeth. “I was eighteen. Still a kid. I watched Travis get married right out of high school. Then a year later, they’re expecting a kid of their own. Dad started asking me about when you and I were going to get married and put me working full-time at the ranch without giving me a choice in the matter. Talking about freaking retirement savings and all that. Pressuring me to pick a plot of land, like Travis had, and start building a house for me and you.”
“Would that have really been so bad?” She choked out the words. “I thought we were happy. What about life with me would have been so awful that you had to run away from it?”
My voice softened. “It wasn’t you. I loved you.”
“Then what was it?”
“It was the rest of it. You know what Dad was like after Cole joined the forces. And I didn’t even know for sure what I wanted out of life except that I didn’t want the ranch. The idea of staying there, of doing the same job day in and day out for the rest of my life, was suffocating me. You know it was never my passion the way it is theirs.”
She swallowed hard. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
I felt desperate for her to understand. “I saw my life going down the same exact path as Dad, as Travis… But I’m not them. I wasn’t ready for all that. I wanted something different. Here, I was always going to be in Travis’s shadow, and I’d never live up. I wanted to be someone on my own. I needed that. And I wanted to see more of the world.”
“You’ve always had the soul of a wanderer,” she said softly.
“Exactly.” I let out a breath. “I had to leave, Cheyenne. I knew you wanted to get married. I knew how much you loved the ranch. But the idea of spending my entire life in Wyoming, working seven days a week, three hundred and sixty-five days a year made me crazy. I’d have felt trapped. Eventually, I’d have resented you, and that wouldn’t be fair. Our marriage would have blown up like Travis’s. His was already on the rocks two years in. The handwriting was on the wall. I didn’t want that to be our story.”
She gritted her teeth. “Did you ever once ask me what I wanted?”
I blinked again. “What do you mean? It was obvious what you wanted. You loved the ranch. Loved my family. You fit there. I knew you wanted those things, and I couldn’t give them to you.”
She shook her head. “Rhett, I wanted you. I didn’t want the ranch and the picket fence and the seven kids and everything your parents have. I just wanted you. Forever.”
The truth of it was in her eyes. My chest swam with sorrow and grief for what we’d lost, what we’d never have. “I wanted you, too.”
“Then why didn’t you ask me to come with you?”
“I couldn’t.”
She jabbed my chest with her finger, hard enough to make me wince. “Why not? If you’re telling me the truth, if it wasn’t about me and you really did try to reach out after, then why did you never ask me to go? How was it so easy for you to walk away?”
“Easy?” My eyes widened. “It wasn’t easy. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I had to. I didn’t ask you to go with me for two reasons. One, you loved it here, and if you left, you’d have resented me as much as I’d have resented you if I’d stayed. Second, Gran was dying. She knew, and she asked me not to take you away from her in her final days.”
Shock rippled over Cheyenne’s face. “What?”
I nodded. “I guess she saw the warning signs in me, knew I was getting ready to bolt. She’d already been diagnosed and knew she only had about a year to live. So she begged me to leave you with her so she wouldn’t be alone.”
Cheyenne was shaking. Her face was white and pinched, and she looked like she was going to burst into tears any moment. “She never told me. Never told me any of it. How could you have kept that from me?”
My shoulders sagged. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I don’t know what else to tell you.”
“How could keeping me in the dark ever have been the right thing? How could leaving me in the middle of the night ever be the right thing?” The words came out in a cry, and tears flooded her eyes.
I grabbed her, pulled her into a tight hug even though my ribs screamed in pain. “I’m sorry,” I said, whispering the words into her hair. “I thought I was doing what was best for everyone. Gran needed you. And you loved it here. You are Wyoming. It flows through your veins, Cheyenne. You’re more connected to this land than anyone I know, including my dad, who spent his whole damn life on that ranch. I couldn’t ask you to leave for me. And when I thought you were never going to speak to me again, well, I couldn’t come back here, to a land where every sunrise, every storm reminded me of you.”
She didn’t say a word. I held her anyway.
But after seconds stretched into minutes, she pulled away, refusing to meet my gaze.
Then she walked away without looking back.