14. Beau
fourteen
Beau
(Then)
It’s been two months since the night in Banff, and I can’t count the times I’ve taken our promises and turned them over in my head, wondering if I made a commitment I can’t keep. To spend everything we make. To choose this life over and over. To follow wherever she goes.
Living on the road used to be easy, but now, every time we pack up, something in me drags its feet. I don’t mind starting again. It’s the part where we leave that I’m beginning to hate. I never wanted to live an ordinary life, and in most ways, I still don’t. Except…
I could see myself doing it with Daisy, and that life being extraordinary.
It’s been a long day at our new job in Kentucky, and Daisy’s already at our cabin when I walk in carrying the dinner I picked up from the mess room.
She’s curled up on the bed, looking cute in oversized sweats, her hair wet from the shower.
I stall at the door as I imagine walking into a bedroom much nicer than this one, in a house that’s ours, every night forever and finding her exactly like this. The possibility makes me warm.
Daisy has her phone at her ear, and she looks up when I arrive.
“Hey, listen,” she says to the person on the line. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later? Bye.”
I give her a curious look as I set our food on the two-seat table in the corner of the room.
“Hey, you,” she says, rising to her knees. “What you got there?”
“Something different.” I flash her a grin. “Roast beef.”
“Again.” With a resigned sigh, she comes to the table and unpacks the containers while I grab sodas from the in-room mini fridge.
“I’ll wait to eat until you’ve showered,” she says. “But hurry. I’m starving.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I start to drag my shirt from the waist of my jeans, but something makes me pause. “Who was that on the phone?”
“Hmm?” Daisy snatches a stick of carrot from her plate, then glances at me, distracted. “Oh. Nobody.”
I take a beat to decide whether to push it, then quirk a brow. “Nobody?”
She clicks her tongue as she fusses with her plate. “It was my brother. I called to check in and ask about my niece. She’s five now.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe it.”
“That would be Dylan, right?” I say. “And Isobel.”
Daisy opens and closes an empty container, then another.
Any excuse to not look at me. It’s been fourteen months, and she’s still uneasy when I ask about her family.
I understand—to a point. We agreed to leave our pasts in the past and focus on a future that belongs to us, but I’m not sure how realistic that is.
If things between us continue the way they are, I expect to be part of her family one day.
And I want her to know I care enough to ask.
“That’s right,” Daisy says. “And Izzy for short.”
I wait for more, and when she doesn’t offer it, I add, “And…?”
Daisy gives me a puzzled frown. “And what?”
“How are they doing?”
“Oh. They’re good. They’re fine. You know. They’re getting by.”
“Is everything all right?”
She tosses a nibbled piece of meat back onto the plate.
“Business isn’t going great,” she says. “The ranch is a big operation—or it was. There are no horses, of course, and barely any overnight tourists. The restaurant is struggling. The tasting room and wine sales keep us afloat, but even those are slow.”
I hide a grunt by peeling off my shirt. Daisy’s definition of struggling and mine couldn’t be more different.
Her family owns a vineyard in Sonoma Valley.
Even without horses or a busy restaurant, the fact that they can keep the property open at all tells me that things aren’t as bad as Daisy fears.
Where I came from, tough meant no dinner three nights in a row and holes in my school shoes, boiling water to keep the bath warm, and my sister cutting my hair when it grew too long. But none of that is helpful now.
“You’re worried about them,” I say.
Daisy lifts one shoulder. “No. Yes. I’m always a little worried, I suppose, but my sister has it under control.”
I hesitate, knowing that my next suggestion will put her on the defensive. “Maybe it’s time we paid a visit to California.”
Daisy freezes. “What?”
I unbutton my jeans, trying hard to play it cool and keep the tension from bubbling over. “Wouldn’t you like to spend some time there? When was the last time you went home?”
Daisy worries her lip, then abandons our dinner to return to her spot on the bed. “Izzy was three years old.”
“It’s been two years?” My tone earns me a sharp look, and I smooth the surprise from my face. “I bet they’d love to see you, and I’d like to meet them.”
Her brows draw down. “Why?”
I gather my patience. “Because they’re your family?”
“Oh.”
I push my jeans off and stand there in my underwear. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
She fidgets with the corner of the duvet cover. “Nothing. I just… I like what we have now, you know? I’m not ready to change it yet. Is that wrong?”
She looks so vulnerable that I regret bringing this up again. I lean my fists on the mattress and drop a kiss on her upturned mouth. “It’s not wrong,” I say. “But—”
“Why are you pushing this?” she snaps. “You promised the future would be about us. You and me. My family’s ranch isn’t part of that equation.”
I straighten, not sure if I should be offended. “Do you think I’m after your ranch? Or… your family’s money?”
“What?” Her hazel eyes grow wide, and she rushes to the edge of the mattress, rising to her knees so we’re eye to eye. She squeezes my upper arms. “No! That’s not what I mean at all.”
I shake my head and draw her against me. “I’m sorry. You hit a sore spot.”
She releases a breath and presses her soft lips to the side of my neck. “Your dad?”
The warmth of her body and the scent of her hair calms me, and I take a long inhale. “Yep.”
“Have you heard from him lately?”
“This afternoon. Not long before I finished up for the day.”
“Oh, Beau.” Daisy tightens her embrace, and I welcome the comfort, letting my frustration and irritation leech away. “What did he want?”
“The usual. Mom’s sick. They’ve got no heat. He can’t put gas in the car. They’re about to be evicted. Can I send him some money?”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
I take a moment to wrestle with my rising anger, then lift my head and step out of her arms. Now I’m the one who doesn’t want to talk about family. “He’s an asshole, and I’m broke, so it’ll be a while before he tries again.”
Daisy waits for eye contact, her head dropped to one side with concern, and when I give it, she threads her fingers through mine.
“There’s more,” she guesses.
I let my head loll back, wanting to get in the shower and wash the day away. Start again like this conversation never happened. But one of us has to be honest first.
“Ever since I met you, there have been days I forget all about him,” I say. “There are times I want to make something of myself. I imagine building something, owning something, creating something that would make another father proud.”
“I get that,” Daisy says, but her voice is small, like the suggestion that I might want to change who I am frightens her.
“But there are days when I want to burn it all to the ground,” I continue. “Be nothing. Have nothing. Give him no reason to keep calling. He’s a loser, and sometimes I look at the life I’ve got and wonder if I’m just like him.”
Her eyes are glassy as she shakes her head. “You could never be like him.”
“How do you know that?” I pace away. “I’ve lived this way because it kept me safe from him, but things are different now that I’ve got you. I want to be better than him. You deserve a man who can take care of you.”
Daisy gets to her feet and stands across from me. “You forget that this version of you is the one I fell in love with.”
“Yeah.” I run a hand through my hair. I know she means it, but that doesn’t make me believe it. “Right.”
She takes a hesitant step forward, and I close the distance to take her in my arms. My mouth captures hers, soft and willing, and I keep kissing her until I find my way to a clear head.
All I need is a life with Daisy, and it shouldn’t matter what it looks like. But later that night, when she’s asleep beside me, I dream again about something different.
What if I’m worth more than my father let me believe? And what if Daisy is the person to finally make me see it?