Chapter Six
One Month Later
After Booker’s party, I’d spent the rest of the night shamelessly scrolling through social media in attempts to learn more about a certain shaggy-haired cowboy.
The search didn’t take long considering he was everywhere, but regardless of my best efforts, everything was at least a few months old.
Not a single article, photo, or even a sighting was recent, except for a few articles wondering the same thing I was: What is going on with Stetson Walker?
Where has he been? What has he been doing?
Color me intrigued.
Something else intrigued me that night though. The feeling I’d had for the first time in a long time, a version of me I hadn’t seen since before Zane. My belly rumbled with excitement and my brain buzzed with motivation.
Things felt lighter.
I hated to say it, because Maggie would never let me live it down if she knew, but getting out of my apartment and going to a party might’ve been exactly the push I needed.
Because even though everyone knew who I was and what had happened with Zane and me, no one cared.
At least not anymore. Everyone had moved on from talking about it.
They’d all found other gossip to obsess over.
With that understanding, and maybe a little help from said shaggy-haired cowboy, I’d found—for the second time in my life—the realization that life went on.
Even in those moments, the dark and nasty ones you thought might never end, the ones that seemed to drag you into the darkness and hold you hostage…
Even those eventually loosened their grip and let you go.
The sun continued to rise and the world kept on spinning. Thankfully so.
“What are you doing today?” Maggie asked, her words muffled through the phone.
“I think I’m going to take a bunch of shit to Salvation Army, maybe stop by Rolling Meadows—I haven’t seen George in a few days—and then I’ll run by The Quincey Falls Tribune office and see if Ms. Hansen is around.”
“The Tribune? What for?”
“Remember the night after Booker’s party when I told you I had an idea…”
“Yeah?”
“Well, that’s it.”
“I’m not following,” she said. The clatter in the background implied she was preoccupied.
“I don’t want to jinx it, so I’ll call you after.
” I had a sudden urge to do something about my current situation, even if I wouldn’t ever be able to fully rid myself of the doubt.
The doubt that true happiness was even in the cards for me.
Therefore, I believed it was better to stay tight-lipped about certain things. At least for now.
“You promise?” she questioned, her voice more focused than before.
“I promise.”
“Okay, fine,” she huffed. “And Scar?”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“I’m proud of you. You’re on a roll and it makes me so happy to see.”
“Thanks, Mags. I’m trying,” I admitted.
“See, I told you; everything is going to work out. It always does, remember.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, a light chuckle escaping the back of my throat. “One day, maybe I’ll actually believe you. I’ll call you later. Love you.”
“Love you.”
I’d spent the last month cleaning out my apartment and had even sorted through my closet from top to bottom.
Hence the reason for the Salvation Army drop-off.
Too many memories were held in a lot of those clothes.
If I had any chance of making this fresh start a successful one, then I had to cleanse myself of the bad shit, especially the memories.
I looped around the corner, a little pep in my step making an appearance as I swayed onto Main Street.
November filled the crisp air, which meant fall was well underway and the window displays proved it.
Pumpkins, leaves, hay bales, and a sea of orange and brown clouded every storefront.
I didn’t know if it was the wistfulness of it all, but this time of year was my favorite and it never got old.
The black light poles that lined either side of the street were joined by mums. Strung in a zigzag across the street were light bulbs that illuminated the pavement at night and made the whole street sparkle.
You couldn’t go five feet without running into a neon sign, whether it was a store’s name or just a decoration in the window, they were everywhere. Between those and the flyers promoting the upcoming Annual Fall Festival, this town was on a constant high from simply existing.
However, the best part of Main Street in the fall wasn’t anything you could see with your eyes.
The Quincey Falls Cider Mill had its own storefront and residents were very grateful for that, because the second you stepped onto the street, the smell of compressed apples and sprigs of cinnamon danced through the air, immediately warming you from the inside out.
I aggressively inhaled, making sure to get as much of the cider scent as I could before continuing on toward the Tribune.
The red building was old—each tarnished brick was aged with time, dust, and a speckle of nostalgia—and had been home to the paper for as long as I’d been alive.
I could only imagine the stories these bricks would tell if they could talk.
My breath slowed as I opened the door.
“Hi, how can I help you?” Ms. Hansen chimed from the back of the room as she sat behind a large desktop computer that blocked most of her face. She tilted her head to the side to get a better look. “Scarlett Carson, is that you? My heavens. I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Hi, Ms. Hansen—”
“Oh, please, call me Donna. Ms. Hansen makes me feel old.” She grinned.
Ms. Hansen—or should I say Donna—was old.
And I meant that in the nicest way possible, because the lady was a gift sent from the heavens above.
I didn’t know specifically how old she was, but I knew that she’d been a prime figure of this town since I was a young girl.
Her stark gray curls were pristinely placed and her untouched wrinkles showed proof of a well-lived life, suggesting she was in her mid-seventies.
Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure why she still worked. I could only assume that when you were the owner, the work never ended, and she had dedicated her life to this newspaper. Without her, it just wouldn’t be the same.
“It has been ages. Lots of different things going on, but hoping everything might settle down a bit now that I’m not moving to Chicago.”
The statement fell from my mouth as if my not moving to Chicago anymore made no difference to me. I didn’t think that was completely true, but I was grateful that the thought of an exciting new opportunity appeared to be masking some of my lingering uncertainty.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry about all that.
Some of us wanted to reach out and see how you were doing—I came close to bringing over some pie—but I didn’t want to intrude.
Plus, George has been keeping us updated.
He sure enjoys when you spend time out there at Rolling Meadows.
” The tone of her voice was so genuine it made you feel like you were talking with one of your best friends.
“Well, I’m glad to hear that because I’ve really enjoyed my time with him too. And I’m beyond grateful he has let me revel in the beauty of the farm. That land is spectacular and somehow makes the outside world feel a little less intimidating,” I said, smiling at the mere thought of it.
“You always have loved to escape there, haven’t you?
” she asked. I planned to respond, but she took the longer than normal silence as an invitation to keep going.
“Must be something about those hills that brings you solace in your times of need. I can’t blame you though, because I’ve often found that getting lost has a way of helping you find your way back. ”
“Truer words…” I offered, trying to stop my brain from wandering to places it didn’t need to go right now.
“So, darling, what brings you into the Tribune?”
“Well, actually…” I paused, wanting to make sure I got my words right.
Not that Donna would care, but it was important to me that I said what I needed to say.
“I’ve just been thinking a lot recently about what I’d like to do and what that looks like since I’ll be staying in Quincey Falls.
I don’t know if you heard, but I had taken a job at a magazine in Chicago before everything just sort of, you know, fell apart.
I’d really been looking forward to it, and I contemplated still taking it, but for multiple reasons, I just can’t leave this place.
At least not right now.” I let out a deep breath, giving Donna a once-over to gauge her reaction.
“With all of that being said, I thought maybe if you had something open, anything really, I’d love to come help out here. You don’t even have to pay me—”
“Nonsense. I would absolutely pay you. Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, playfully flicking my shoulder.
“Does that mean it’s a yes?” The anxious rattle that shook inside of me had morphed into butterflies feverishly flapping their wings.
“Of course it’s a yes. We’d absolutely love to have you on our team. We aren’t a big fancy Chicago magazine by any means, and there’s only five of us on the team right now, but we are mighty. And most importantly, we all love this town of ours.”
“Couldn’t sound more perfect.” I grinned, my cheeks aching from smiling so hard as I pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, Donna. Truly.”
“You don’t have to thank me, darling. We stick together in these parts, and we’ve always got each other’s backs,” she said, squeezing me tighter before releasing our embrace.
“Now, I’m not sure exactly what I’ll have you do, but we’ll figure all those details out later.
I can’t promise it’s going to be glamorous, but I can promise you a job. ”
“You just tell me where you need me and I’ll be there. I’m happy with whatever. I just truly appreciate you, more than you’ll ever know.”
“Don’t mention it,” she said, swatting her hand away in the air. “When do you wanna start?”
“How about Monday?”