Daisy
eighteen
(Then)
“I don’t think I want to leave here,” I say as we drive the fence line on this ranch in Wyoming. “It’s so pretty.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Something in Beau’s tone makes me turn my head. He isn’t looking at the jagged blue mountains tinted gold in the late afternoon sun. He’s looking at me.
“Stop it,” I chide.
“Stop what?”
“Stop looking at me. We’re admiring the view.”
A slow grin pulls at his mouth. He’s let himself get scruffy this week, and I love it. “Darlin’, I’m always admiring you.”
Heat blooms beneath my skin, and I roll my eyes even as I smile and return to the picture out of my window. Wyoming in July is practically perfect. Grassland and sagebrush. Silver-green creeks and endless blue skies. Horses and hills and afternoon thunderstorms.
“Would you really do it?” Beau asks.
“Do what?”
“Stay.”
My smile fades when I notice the grip he has on the steering wheel, one thumb tapping with a nervous drum.
“If I found a way,” he says. “If I could make it work, would you really want to stay?”
I force a laugh. “I don’t know. Probably not.”
“You don’t sound too sure about that.”
“Well, I am.” I fold my arms and stare out my window. “I like our life.”
“You like moving every few months?” he asks. “Packing up and starting over again every time we get comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Never staying anywhere long enough to build something?”
“Uh… that’s kind of the point?”
“Never seeing your family?”
My pulse spikes, and I try to regulate with deep, even breaths. “What brought this on?”
He’s quiet for long enough that I turn to face him and find his eyes trained on the dirt road stretching ahead of us. “I’ve just been thinking about it, is all.”
I return to my study of the terrain as it grows more familiar the closer we get to our lodgings.
Beau has asked about my family and California more times these last three months than he did the whole year before.
Ever since Banff, and the bracelet, and the promises we made under the stars.
That night changed something between us, in a wonderful way, but I wish it hadn’t led to more questions about my life before we met.
That life was defined by loss and confusion.
This life is defined by possibility and hope, and I want to keep it that way.
“Come on, Darlin’. Talk to me. Why do you want to leave?” He frowns at the road and flexes his fingers on the wheel. “I know why I’ve kept moving. Because I never had any reason to stay put.”
“And now?”
His jaw tightens. “Now I do.”
My stomach twists, and I press a hand to my middle. “Beau—”
“I’m serious.” He spears me with a quick look. “Don’t you ever think about it?”
“Think about what?”
“Making a home with me. Committing to something permanent. Something real.”
A fist wraps around my throat. “This is real.”
“Is it?”
His voice is calm, but his manner is strained, and as we approach our cabin, he pulls over with a swing that kicks up a cloud of dust. He cuts the engine, and the silence is too loud.
Beau turns to face me. “Do you really think we can exist like this forever?”
“Yes.”
I answer too fast, and the look he gives me is skeptical. And disappointed. “You don’t believe that.”
“Yes, I do.” I narrow my eyes, challenging his look with one of my own. “And you used to believe it too. What’s gotten into you?”
“You.”
His answer is soft and vulnerable, and I’m stunned to stillness. He waits for a beat, then gets out of the truck and slams the door behind him. By the time I follow, I need to lengthen my stride to catch up, but he’s still through the door of our cabin before I reach him.
He spins the moment I cross the threshold.
“I had nothing before I met you.” His eyes search mine. “Not a single thing, but now we have each other, I can’t stop thinking about all the ways we could have more.”
I shake my head. “We agreed—”
“I know what we agreed!” He throws his hands up, then tosses his hat onto our unmade bed.
His hair is damp and matted, the way I adore.
“No stopping. No getting stuck. No wasting time chasing things that don’t matter.
But why do we have to be so rigid? Why can’t we travel and build a home that belongs to us? ”
“Because we can’t!” I don’t mean to shout, but my voice climbs anyway. “That’s not how it works!”
His expression is a heartbreaking mix of hurt and dashed hope. “Why not?”
“Because the moment we settle down, everything changes.”
His throat bobs, and he takes a step closer. “Maybe that’d be a good thing.”
“Not for me.”
He stops his advance. “Why not?”
Because I’m finally happy and want to stay that way. Because home is where the ghosts are, and going back means no more pretending to be okay.
“I don’t know,” I mutter.
He sighs. “We’ve got time before our gig in Argentina. I was thinking we could go to California.”
Blood turns to ice in my veins. “What?”
“We don’t have to stay long, but Darlin’… I’m asking you to let me into that part of your life.”
I’m floating. I’m floating away and I can’t feel my body, but miraculously, my mouth still works. “Why?”
Beau closes the distance and takes my hands in his. “Because I want to marry you.”
Emotion rises and burns my throat. “Are you serious?”
“Never been more serious in my life.” He brushes his thumbs along the backs of my hands, and when I look at my fingers wrapped in his, I’m not sure which of us is trembling.
“I love you, and I want to spend my life with you. I want to meet your brothers and sister and tell them you’re safe with me.
That I’ll take care of you. That I’d burn down the whole damn world for you if I had to. ”
I turn my head and blink back tears.
“Daisy?” Beau’s voice hitches, and he falls to one knee. “Will you marry me?”
I swallow hard and close my eyes tight. “They don’t know about you.”
His silence is filled with hurt. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… I haven’t told my family about us.”
He gets to his feet and turns my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes, which gives me a front-row seat as understanding dawns, followed by a raw kind of pain.
“I told Poppy,” I say quickly. “But—”
“You told Poppy,” he repeats slowly.
He takes a long step back, and I wrap my arms around myself. “I was going to tell them soon, but…”
“But… what?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Is it?” His brow furrows. “What’s so complicated about telling your family that you love me?”
I flinch, but there’s no answer I can give that will erase this hurt. No answer I’m ready to give anyway.
“Are you…” He clears his throat and crosses his thick arms. “Are you ashamed of me?”
“What?” I reach out to him, but he dodges my hand. “No. Of course not.”
He nods like he might not believe me, his eyes pinched at the corners.
“Well, then. It’s easily fixed.” He pulls his phone from his back pocket and offers it to me. His tone is pleading. “Call them.”
I glance at the phone. “Don’t do this.”
“Daisy,” he says, and the way he uses my real name makes my heart lurch. “I love you. I love you so much that I want to spend forever with you. You’re everything to me.”
Tears sting my eyes. “You’re everything to me too.”
He proffers the phone again. “So call them, then tell me you’ll marry me.”
“Stop it.” I shake my head and pace away. “You’re pressuring me. This isn’t the kind of conversation I can have over the phone in five minutes. I need to think.”
I’ve ignored his proposal again, and the energy shifts at what that might mean.
“You’re right.” Beau tucks his phone away again, and his voice is flat enough to make my heart skip. “This is the kind of conversation a person has over and over again, little by little, day by day, because that’s how it works when you love someone the way you love me, right?”
Guilt and shame wind through me, but a spark of self-preservation remains. “Yes, I love you, but I need to think! Can you stop for a second and let me think?”
I watch as something inside him breaks. “I’ve never had to think about you, Darlin’. I knew I loved you the moment I saw you, and I know I’ll keep on loving you forever.”
My heart splinters. “I love you too. It’s just—”
“I know. It’s complicated. And if you need time to think, then what can I do?”
He peels off his shirt and walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
As the water runs, I sink down onto the bed, numb to the point of agony.
Everything hurts. My heart. My head. My conscience.
How do I explain that what we have is so perfect, my love for this man so complete, that I don’t want to risk it by taking it to a place that causes me so much pain?
Our evening passes in uncomfortable silence, with so much to say and neither of us knowing where to begin.
I still curl against him in bed that night, and he holds me like he always does.
By the time I drift to sleep, I’ve decided that when morning comes, I’ll explain why I’m scared to take him to Silver Leaf.
I’ll call my sister and my brothers. And then I’ll say yes, I will marry him.
Beau’s arms give me the strength to believe that everything will be okay.
When I wake, the bed is empty, and there’s a note resting on his pillow.
Find someone you love so enormously you can’t wait to take him home—someone who can give you whatever it is I can’t. I’ll love you forever, Darlin’, but after last night, I no longer believe I’m enough. –Beau
I stare at his note long after I’m supposed to be at work. I cry and scream and throw things until I’m a dried-up husk of simmering rage and regret. I balance my daisy bracelet between my fingers and search for the strength to leave it behind, but I can’t find it.
The reminder of us is tucked into a corner of my suitcase when I leave that ranch in Wyoming, board a flight to San Francisco, and take myself home.