46
I blink, my vision blurring as I try to orient myself.
I’m in bed. The room is dim and cool. A burning sensation sears my left wrist. Thunder rumbles, the sky outside dark and stormy.
Rolling my head across the pillow, I see Charlie’s dusty Stetson on a chair pulled close to my bed.
A glass of whiskey is on the nightstand.
When I push myself up on my elbows, a figure comes out of the shadows, towering over me.
“Charlie,” I whisper.
The bed shifts as he sits beside me. “Sunflower.” His voice—deep, rough—washes over me like a familiar song. He pushes a strand of hair behind my hair and cups my face with a big, calloused palm. I lean into his beautiful touch.
“Do you remember what happened?” he asks.
“I fainted on Arrow,” I whisper.
He shakes his head, his expression dark, pained. “I never should have let you on that fucking horse.”
Blinking back tears, I focus on Charlie’s haggard face. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”
The last thing I want him to do is blame himself.
Tears spill down my cheeks. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he says in a stern voice, pushing my chin up so I look into those fierce blue eyes of his. “Baby, if there’s something I should know, go ahead and tell me now. Tell me before I lose my damn mind.” His voice tears, splits. “Don’t make me guess.”
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll tell you.”
My throat burns and I keep my gaze on his face, gathering courage.
I touch my chest, tracking my heartbeat.
We’re almost there.
No more running.
I don’t want to be cynical or angry or hate my heart.
Or myself.
I have to tell him the truth.
Even if I lose him.
Inhaling a steadying breath, I sit up straighter and say, “I have a heart thing.”
Charlie closes his eyes like he’s been expecting this. “What kind of heart thing?”
I swallow, pressing on. “It’s called supraventricular tachycardia or SVT for short,” I say. And then I take a deep breath and release all of it. How my brother and father shielded me. All the medical jargon. My triggers.
“Stress is tricky,” I explain to Charlie. “It’s like the electrical charge in my heart gets disconnected and when it does, I faint. I call it a flutter.”
Charlie stares at me like every interaction we’ve had this summer is running through that beautiful brain of his. His broad chest rises and falls.
“And your pills?” The words wrench from his mouth. “Is that the treatment?”
I nod. “I have medicine and techniques to ward it off if I feel it coming, but ...it’s getting worse.” I take a shuddery breath. “I went to the doctor today. They want me to go home and see my cardiologist. The pills aren’t working anymore.”
“Then what will?”
I shake my head, wanting him to understand. “It’s not something you can fix, Charlie. I won’t ever get better. And one day, my heart will stop, and it will never start again, and I will die.”
Charlie makes a kind of tortured sound in the back of his throat.
I go on.
“It could be two years, or it could be twenty. My mother had a heart attack. My aunt died at twenty-eight. Our life expectancy isn’t great.
” I bite my lip and keep my gaze on my hands as I admit the hard truth.
“I shouldn’t have been here this summer.
I made it worse. I was reckless with my heart. ” I meet his eyes. “With yours.”
Turning away from me, he sets his head in his hands and breathes deeply.
“Charlie ...” I press a palm against his muscled back, but he rips up off the bed and crosses the room.
At the distance he puts between us, I burst into tears. “You’re mad. I understand.”
He makes a fist, sets it on the wall, squeezes his eyes shut, and rests his brow beside it. “I’m not mad, Ruby. Hell, I’m—”
Devastated. Broken.
I see it on his face, the sensation of being completely knocked off his axis.
Heartbroken.
I did this to him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, pushing off the wall and pacing the room like a caged animal. Confusion creases his handsome features.
I rub my weary eyes. “I never thought I’d see you again, let alone work for you.
And then we made the deal about Runaway Ranch.
” A weak, tearful laugh shakes my body. “We were supposed to be temporary. And I didn’t want you to treat me like I was broken or fragile.
I wanted to live for once in my life. If you knew . ..that’s all you’d see.”
Charlie’s eyes soften.
I sniffle, reining back more tears. “I didn’t think it mattered.
That I’d be gone by the end of the summer.
But then I fell in love with you, Charlie, and I found out about Maggie and Ford said—” Charlie swears.
“I tried to leave. I didn’t want to put you through any more pain.
But I ...I couldn’t.” I choke on a sob. “I love you too much.”
Charlie stands by the door, his large frame tensed and locked, processing what I’ve just told him. “You should have told me,” he growls, his gruff voice laced with pain.
I nod. “I know. I tried. Every day I told myself I’d tell you, and every day, I chickened out. I was selfish. I didn’t want to hurt you or lose you.”
His jaw hardens, and he stomps toward me. “You went through it all alone. All this time you were hurting and in pain and sick, and I didn’t know a goddamn thing about it.”
A hot tear rolls down my cheek. My heart hurts. I deserve every bit of his anger, his frustration. I have no excuse, no rebuttal.
Charlie sighs, his dark brows furrowing as he closes his eyes. “You put me through hell, Ruby.”
My lower lip trembles. “I know. I’m sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
Silence. Awful, awful silence.
Weakly, I scoot to the edge of the bed. The drop of my bare feet on cool hardwood is like an anchor. “I want to tell you I love you. I want to tell you that I’ve never lived as much as I have this summer because of you. I want to tell you that you have my heart even when it stops beating.”
His large frame sags and his face screws up. “Ruby, don’t.”
I touch my chest, the beat of my heart calm, and urge myself to go on.
We’re almost there.
Sniffling, I shake my head, wiping tears off my cheeks. “I don’t regret this summer, Charlie. I’d do it all over again, even if it ends like this.”
Charlie turns his head, his hard expression morphing into shock. “Ends?”
“It has to end.”
I make a decision.
God, it will hurt, but I have to let him go.
“I’m getting worse, Charlie. I thought I could do it, but I don’t want you to go through it.”
He freezes, stops breathing.
My tears overflow.
I push myself up to stand on shaky legs and glance around the room for my things.
Gaze narrowed, he turns to me, smearing a hand down his dark beard. “What’re you doing?”
“Making it easier for you.” I sniffle. “I lied to you and your family. I could die, Charlie. I can’t give you children. I’ll go, okay? I’ll—”
Suddenly, Charlie’s not by the door anymore. In one swift motion, he’s hauling me into his muscled chest. “Go?” he asks in disbelief, his voice breaking. “I stopped you once. Why in the hell would I let you run away now?”
“I lied to you,” I gasp. The sudden feeling of being in his arms once more has my legs giving out. Gripping his shirt to stay steady, I press my face to his chest and weep. “You should hate me.”
He chuckles. The vibration rolls through his body and into mine.
Then he takes my face in his big hands and stares into my eyes. “Am I pissed? Am I worried? I won’t lie to you. Yeah, I’m both of those things. But Ruby, baby, as long as your love keeps rushing through my lungs, I am yours and you’re mine. You’re still my sunflower.”
I’m crying so hard, big, wet sopping tears that streak my cheeks. I’m so relieved it’s out. Charlie knows my truth, knows every little piece of my heart. And still ...
He won’t let me go.
How could I ever have doubted this man?
Charlie wipes away my tears with his thumbs. “There is no question I love you, no question about us,” he rasps, pressing his warm lips to my brow. His voice shakes with emotion. “I’m not walking away. I can’t. I won’t. So don’t ask.”
“Okay, Cowboy.” I smile wide. Tears sparkle on my lashes. “I won’t.”
In answer, Charlie kisses me with such force I gasp into his mouth. My fingers dive into his thick head of dark hair. His lips are full, soft, drinking me in, telling me everything will be okay. My body curls into him. And then he’s lifting me off my feet and I’m back in his arms.
Where I’ve always belonged.