Chapter 39
Dom
Juniper seems sad, and I wonder if she misses Riley.
I wonder if Riley is avoiding her in the name of avoiding me. Exactly what I didn’t want in the first place, and it ended up happening either way. But I’ll fix this today. As soon as I’m done, I’m making it to her cabin and telling her how I feel.
Her sister says she always leaves, but she clearly said she wants to stop leaving, over and over again. I might not want to clip her wings, but I can ask her to stay and find ways for her to fly instead.
She already does, that’s the thing. I just need to believe she won’t stay put if she doesn’t want to—just because I want her to stay.
Besides, she says she wants to be rooted and find her home, and I’m determined to be that for her, even if not for forever. I was just such a dumbass and didn’t see it for what it was before.
“She looks good,” Lilly says, snapping me from my thoughts as I look at her standing by the door.
“She is.”
Lilly inspects Juniper, walking around her as if she’s looking to find something wrong, the way she does with everyone else, but she won’t. She’s healthy and healing just fine.
“We’re so lucky to have you here. I hope you know that.”
Although it’s nice to hear, it really wasn’t my doing that helped Juniper.
It was Riley. “I can’t take credit for this.
This was all your sister and her friend.
I’ve never seen someone so in tune with an animal before.
I think Juniper’s heart and spirit were as broken as her body.
Neglect and heartbreak, if you will. Riley restored that. It was beautiful to see.”
She nods, as if it’s a hard pill to swallow. “I don’t remember the last time Riley was around horses, so that must be a big deal for her.”
It was, but that is not my story to tell. Right now, I need to tell her what I came here to say, even if it's going to cost me my job.
I’m too old to be asking permission to date the people I want to date, and even though I’m doing it out of respect for Lilly and her parents, it’s killing me that I took this long to take the lead. “Did you need something?”
She flinches. Damn, that came out wrong. “I don’t need permission to come to these parts of my ranch, Dominic.”
“I apologize; that’s not what I meant. I was asking because I would like to talk to you, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything before I did.”
“I also came here to talk to you.”
Oh.
“Okay, go ahead.”
She shakes her head with impatience. “What do you want to talk to me about?
“It can wait.” The truth is, I shouldn’t wait long to come to terms with what I want and need, which is loving Riley. It’s more than I want at this point. Being with her has become completely necessary for my well-being, and I’m done lying about it to myself and to her. Riley needs to know.
Looking back, I can’t believe I made her feel like I didn’t love her. She doesn’t even have to tell me she was hurt by my words. I could see it, and with every day that passes, that hurt grows deeper and deeper. What a stupid man I was.
“Do you wanna sit?” she asks.
“Are you firing me, Lilly, or should I say, Ms. Banks?”
“What? No, I literally just told you how valuable you are to us. Why would I fire you?”
“Never mind,” I reply.
“I’m here to talk about Riley.”
Oh.
“I know about the two of you,” she says. I get the urge to act ignorant, but if I’m going to tell her how I feel about her sister either way, I might as well do it now.
“What exactly do you know?”
“For someone who is supposed to know everything going on at this ranch, I don’t know how I didn’t see it, but anyway. She told me you two were a thing, I guess, and yeah, that.”
Were, past tense, because we’re not anymore because of me and my stupid ass.
“At the beginning, I was screaming about it mostly because you’re older, no offense—” She raises her hands in the air.
“None taken.”
“—but then, the more I thought about it, the more I realized it is none of my business what you decide to do. It was shitty to even assume anyone could control Riley.”
I chuckle. I’m not even trying to, but it escapes anyway, and she smiles.
“Ah. You know this too then.”
“I do.”
“She’s really mad at me, and I really would like to fix things, but before I do, I wanted to come talk to you, ask if it was just a summer fling for you.” She looks softer than I’ve ever seen. I don’t think this woman has ever let her guard down before, not the way she is now.
It took her being between la espada y la pared for her to be like this. She needs to find an outlet before she burns out completely.
“It’s not my business to tell you Riley’s business, but if there’s a chance it wasn’t, and what you feel for her is more than a crush, I think you should tell her.”
So she’s not mad. She wants me to pursue this with Riley. What’s going on?
“I also wanted to say that if when I talked to you and told you to keep an eye on her but later on to stay away from her, mostly because she was gonna leave and how that would’ve impacted you—”
She’s just like Riley when she’s all in her head about things: one long winded sentence at a time.
“If those were some of the reasons why you two are not a thing anymore, I guess I want to apologize. You two are adults, and I really should have just kept my mouth shut, but I can’t undo the past, and it is what it is.”
I want to tell her it did cause an impact, but I also have to take accountability for the errors I’ve made. Yes, she did tell me to watch out for her and whatever, but I am an adult. I ultimately made a decision to push her away when I shouldn’t have.
When I should have known I could have just talked to her, and we would have figured it out. If we really wanted to make it work, we could’ve talked to Lilly together. I could have told her my fears. I could have asked her what she wanted.
Lilly may seem uptight, a rule follower and enforcer, but she’s also conscious of the things people need and what they’re going through. She’s the glue of this place, and sometimes, under too much heat, it’s hard for the adhesive to work. No wonder she’s falling apart. I don’t blame her one bit.
“I don’t want you to carry the guilt of what happened between me and Riley, so don’t worry about it. We will figure it out.”
“Thanks for that, but answer something for me… Do you feel attached to her in one way or another? More than a summer fling?”
I nod, unable to say the feeling I’ve been avoiding naming out loud.
“Do you love her? she asks.
It feels wrong to tell anyone but Riley how I feel about her. She deserves to know first. So I don’t speak the words out loud, but I don’t run away from the feeling either. I say the one thing I know her sister would understand. “How can you know Riley and not love her?”
She smiles more than I have ever seen her smile before looking to the left, reminiscing on whatever made these sisters strangers.
If she only knew how Riley looks up to her, how she wants nothing more than to make her proud.
“You’re right. I don’t think that’s possible. To know Riley is to love her.”
“Then you should tell her, ‘cause I don’t think she knows.”
“My sister knows how I feel about her,” she replies, putting those walls back up.
“I know you’ve sacrificed a lot for her through the years, and that doesn’t go unnoticed, but she needs to know concretely. She needs to hear you say it.”
She considers my words. I expect her to argue back, but instead, she says, “I agree, and I will, but I could also say the same thing about you.”
“Oh, I know. I was stupid enough not to let her know, but I’ll rectify that situation.”
“Good. Then my job here is done.” She brushes her jeans down. “Have a good night, and I mean it. It’s good to have you around here. My parents would be proud of you.”
I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that. She may not know how much her parents meant to me, but she knows something if she was willing to say those words.
I hope I can carry their legacy the way the river carries sticks and stones along the current. I hope she knows I’m here for good, that I will give this place all I have.
I will give Riley all I have.
She leaves, and I finish cleaning up, patting Juniper on the head, willing her to look at me, but she doesn’t. “I know, girl. I’ll fix it, and hopefully, she’ll be back soon.”
Standing outside Riley’s cabin, the water droplets hitting the roof in sync with the hum of my heart beating on my chest, I reminisce on the night I let go of fear and took a leap. The best leap of my life.
And now, I’m about to take the next—starting with the hard knock on her bright orange door.
Bright like her and everything she brings.
Riley stands behind the door, glossy and dark like the sea blue eyes. She’s been crying. I would ask her who hurt her, but I know I did. And, judging by the conversation she had with Lilly, so did she.
I fight the urge to bring my hand up to cup her face, to beg her to forgive me. I need her to know this is not a cry so I can have her body back, but a plea to share her heart.
“What are you doing here?” Riley asks in a tone like the night she opened up to me and shared the deepest parts of herself. Raw, vulnerable, open.
“Can we talk?” Where her voice sounds like marshmallow over late night fire, mine sounds like the outsoles of my boots—dry and cracked.
“You said everything you had to say, right?” She crosses her arms over her chest, leaning away from me. “Oh wait, you forgot to say that my sister told you to stay away from me, and that you listened to her.”
There’s no surprise on my face, because Lilly already told me, and I’m thankful she did. “That’s not how it happened. Can we talk?”
She rolls her eyes, but she can’t help it and lets me in—into her entryway, where two suitcases sit next to the rails where her dreams live.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“None of your business, right? Since we’re not really friends?”
“Of course we’re friends.” I take a step forward, and she takes one back, setting an invisible but very clear boundary.
“Friends don’t lie to each other.”