32. Sally
CHAPTER 32
Sally
HIGHLY RECOMMEND
Tucking my hair behind my ears, I take a deep, steadying breath and recite the lines I’ve practiced a thousand times over the past few weeks.
I’ve researched the barrel racing circuit, and I feel that I can help you build a world-class competitive training program that would truly put the Wallace Ranch on the map.
In addition to veterinary services, I can help create training regimens that would ensure the safety of racers and their horses while also promoting top-notch performance in the arena and beyond.
Yes, I’m willing to travel. And, yes, I have a cowboy friend who’s particularly skilled in all things related to riding and who would be more than happy to lend a hand whenever we need it.
Yes, that cowboy has a brother who also happens to be a single parent if you’re interested in making a new friend yourself .
I’m seated in the Wallace Ranch’s swanky new office, a shingled building not far from the enormous arena where I performed that pair of surgeries back in November.
It was only a little over a month ago, but it seems like it was yesterday. Also seems like it was from another lifetime, in the era before Wyatt officially asked me to move in with him .
Before we spent the most joyous fucking holiday season ever together. Seriously, December was one nonstop party. Between us celebrating our decision to stay in Texas, to us celebrating moving in together, to us toasting our very first Christmas tree as a couple, I felt like I was practically swimming in good tidings and cheer.
I also feel like I’ll be celebrating the fact that Wyatt was willing to move to New York with me for the rest of my life. I know how much Texas means to him, and I know he would’ve missed his family terribly. But he was willing to move anyway.
That kind of love will always make me weak in the knees.
Throughout December, my friends—namely Wyatt and Mollie—helped me brainstorm some ideas for the future of my career. I kept coming back to the Wallaces and their budding training program. Their facilities are top-notch, and more importantly, so are the people who work there. Beck and I were able to smooth things over a few weeks back when we ran into each other at The Rattler. I blushed so hard that I was sure my face would catch fire as I explained myself to him, but luckily, he was cool about it. He’s genuinely a good guy, and I have no doubt he’s going to make someone very happy someday.
Now I find myself waiting outside Ava Bartlett’s door at eight a.m. the Monday after New Year’s. A leather folio rests in my lap. Inside, I’ve got several copies of my updated résumé, along with printed references from the professors and surgeons I’ve worked with.
There’s also a letter from Dad. After tempers cooled and I felt like we were on semi-decent footing again, I asked him to write me a recommendation. He had his first therapy appointment just after Thanksgiving, and I know he’s working hard to win back my trust, Wyatt’s too.
Not gonna lie. When I read his recommendation, I cried like a baby. He didn’t hound on my credentials the way he would in the past, name-dropping the schools I attended or the famous professors I worked with.
Instead, he talked about my “heart-first” approach to veterinary care. How my practice is made richer by the bonds I have with the people around me. He said my technical proficiency is second to none, and so is my bedside manner. I care for animals, and I care for the community they’re a part of too.
As cheesy as that last part was, I had to print out another copy because I cried so hard while reading it that my tears soaked the page.
A door to my left opens, and Ava emerges with a warm smile. “Hey, Sally! So happy to see you. Come on in. Pardon the mess. We just moved into these offices, and I’m still getting settled.”
We sit across from each other at a wide white desk, the two of us exchanging pleasantries for a few minutes before I open my folio.
“Thank you again for meeting with me. I have a proposal I’d like to make.”
Ava nods eagerly. “I’m all ears.”
“I’m just going to dive right in and say that I’d love to be a part of the program you’re building here. I’ve worked plenty with the horses y’all breed, and I’m seriously impressed by what I’ve seen. I believe, with the right people in place, Wallace Ranch has the potential to be a world-class training facility. I’d like to be one of those people.”
Ava’s smile grows. “Go on.”
I give her enough specifics to let her know I’ve given my proposal a lot of thought. I float the idea of Vance and me forming a veterinary care team unit that provides both clinical care and expertise in diet, training programs, and preventative medicine.
“Obviously, my main role will be performing surgeries as needed,” I say, wrapping up. “But I’d like to make that role a bit more dynamic by incorporating all these other elements. I’d like to flex my muscles a bit, be part of the action.”
Ava’s smile hasn’t wavered. “I love this idea, Sally. Really, truly love it. You make a very compelling case, especially considering I’ve witnessed you perform several miracles on our horses. It would be a dream to have you on our team.”
I flush, chest filling with excitement. “Thank you.”
“Let me chat with the Wallaces and get their thoughts. But you bet your bottom dollar that I’m gonna push hard for you. I know an opportunity when I see one, and talent like yours is a major opportunity for us. Thanks for bringing this to me, sincerely.”
We shake hands, and I leave the ranch feeling like a million bucks. Even if I don’t get the job, I’m still proud of myself for taking such a big swing. I’m learning that it’s the people who have the balls to ask for what they want who ultimately get it.
So I’m going to keep asking for what I want and hope for the best.
On the way home I get a call from Dad, asking for help at a small ranch that’s about twenty or so miles down the road. I head in that direction, and next thing I know it’s late afternoon, and I’m itching to get back home to Wyatt.
Will I ever not rush home to see him? If I leave now, I can probably grab a shower with him. Then we’ll hang out, maybe watch whichever serial killer documentary just came out on Netflix. Then we’ll make some dinner if we don’t feel like going to the New House.
And then, of course, we’ll get naked after that.
Yeah, life in Texas is good. Really, really good.
It’s almost four by the time our farmhouse comes into view. I smile when I see Wyatt’s truck parked out front. Only when I pull up beside it do I see that he’s in the front seat.
He’s wearing a cowboy hat, a denim jacket, and a knowing smirk I want to kiss right off his handsome face .
How is this my life?
He rolls down his window after I hop out of my car. “Get in.”
“What?” I say, laughing. “Why?”
“We’re gonna celebrate you gettin’ a job.”
Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest. “I didn’t get a job. Yet.”
“But you will. What’d Ava say? That she couldn’t verbally give you an offer, but she sure as hell isn’t letting you slip through her fingers?”
“Something like that.” I blink. “You’re good.”
“Yep. Now get in.”
It’s all I can do not to giggle as I climb into his truck and immediately reach across the front bench to grab Wyatt’s shirt.
Yanking him to me, I hover my mouth an inch off of his and say, “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“How was your day?”
“Better now.”
We have this exact conversation every day. And every day, it makes me feel like I’m floating.
I kiss him, and he slides a hand onto my face and kisses me back. I love how we can still do this, shamelessly make out with each other, despite the fact that we’ve been dating since November and it’d be so much easier—simpler—to just skip straight to sex.
Wyatt, though, takes his time with me. Always has.
I’m the one to finally break the kiss. Falling back in my seat, I put on my seat belt. Wyatt presses a button on the dash, and the opening notes of “Yellow” by Coldplay fill the car.
I reach over to turn it up. “I love this song.”
“I know.”
“Where are we going? ”
He puts the truck in drive. “You’ll see.”
I get a weird sense of déjà vu as Wyatt drives across the ranch. We’re heading to the river, I know that much.
He parks in our usual spot at the top of the bluff that overlooks the water. Above it, the sky is a kaleidoscope of colors—orange, neon coral, lavender, powder blue.
“I forgot what a perfect place this is to watch the sunset,” I say.
Wyatt reaches into the back seat and pulls out a six-pack of Cokes—glass bottles, naturally—and a fifth of Jack Daniel’s.
“Too cold to skinny-dip.” He pops the tops off a pair of bottles and takes a sip from one, then the other. “But figured we could get naked in the truck instead. Don’t worry, we’ll cuddle first.” He pats his lap.
The memory hits me—the afternoon I picked up Wyatt right after his parents died. I was listening to Coldplay that day. “Yellow,” if memory serves.
I blink, my eyes smarting. With the Cokes and the Coldplay and the Colorado River, is Wyatt re-creating that day?
He’s revisiting a moment that was both terrible and wonderful in equal measure.
He’s not afraid to go back there anymore.
My eyes flick to his neck. My heart thunders when I see that he’s not wearing his gold chain.
I don’t want to read too much into that. But Wyatt always wears that thing, and the fact that he’s not today?—
Oh my God.
He pours a good amount of Jack Daniel’s into each of the Cokes and hands one to me.
“Cheers, Sunshine.” He holds out his Coke.
I absently touch my bottle to his. “Cheers, handsome.”
I sip. The sweetness of the Coke mingles with the fire of the Jack Daniel’s on my tongue .
Then a big old smile splits my face. Yeah, Wyatt is definitely re-creating that day.
“You get it then,” Wyatt says. “The song and the drinks…”
“I get it.” I look down at my Coke, then look up at him. “Cute.”
“Cute? That’s all I get?” he teases.
Careful not to spill my drink, I all but launch myself across the bench and climb into his lap, Sally Field in Smokey and the Bandit –style. Looping an arm around his neck, I pull him in for another kiss. “You know you’re gonna get more than that, cowboy.”
His eyes flash with heat. “I got a question to ask you first.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, like my heart isn’t in my throat and my thoughts aren’t a riot of hope. “Talk to me.”
“That day you picked me up, you said you’d be my sunshine anytime.” He searches my eyes. “What do you think about being my sunshine forever?”
I stare at him as the realization takes shape.
“Really?” I manage, vision blurring with tears.
“I know it seems fast?—”
“Yes. So fast. And also not fast at all.”
“We’ve only been dating for a couple of months. But I’m not gonna waste another twenty years playing it safe. We can get married next month, next year, or ten years from now—I don’t care.” With a grunt, he reaches for the glove compartment. Opening it, he pulls out a small velvet box. “I just refuse to go another day without putting a ring on your finger.”
He flicks open the box with his thumb. The breath leaves my lungs when I see the gorgeous yellow diamond solitaire that sparkles on a thin gold band. It’s classic, beautifully proportioned, and so very me.
“You know Cash got Mom’s engagement ring,” Wyatt explains, “and I got her wedding band. But I still wanted the band to be a part of your ring, so Mollie gave me the name of her jeweler, and I had him redo the band and added the yellow diamond. Because, yeah, you’re my sunshine. I hope you like it.”
I try and fail to formulate any sort of coherent response.
Instead, I sob and pull my fiancé in for a teary, salty kiss, both of us crying and laughing and happy .
So damn happy.
“That a yes?” he asks.
I manage a nod. “That’s a yes, Wy. I love it. I love you. My God, do I love you.”
My heart skips several beats when he takes the ring out of its box. It looks impossibly delicate in his huge, blunt-tipped fingers, and I shiver when he slides it onto the fourth finger of my left hand. The diamond winks at me, its fire clear and bright.
“You’re the only one I wanna cook for,” he says. “The only one I wanna take wholesome literature and turn it into spicy prairie porn with. The only one I want to watch terrifying serial killer shows with. You’re the only one, Sally.”
“And you’re the only one my dad’s ever held at gunpoint,” I say, and he laughs, a big, booming sound. “I never thought I’d have that kind of epic love story, but I’m glad we do.”
“ We .” He threads our fingers together.
“We’re a package deal now, yeah.” I lean in and bite his neck. “So how do you feel about making some spicy prairie porn of our own right now?”
More laughter. My heart soars.
Squeezing my thigh, he replies, “I could be convinced.”
I grab his hat and drop it onto my head. “Saddle up, cowboy.”