Chapter Thirty-Eight Blaze
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Blaze
The four-hour drive back to Wyoming stretches into what feels like four years. Plenty of time for me to replay every one of her pain- and anger-tinged words, over and over again.
Slamming my fist on the seat next to me, I let out a grunt.
I showed up at her office with a deed, a marriage proposal, and an open, vulnerable heart.
And just like she said, now I know how it feels to watch the person you love most turn their back on you. It’s justified, yeah, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
Streaks of orange and purple color the sky as dusk falls.
Christ, in what lifetime was pulling that stunt ever gonna work in my favor? A fucking marriage proposal? How pathetic and desperate am I?
I already know that answer. But I still could have handled it better instead of walking in there like I did, sticking out like a sore thumb against her glitzy new city life.
I meant it, though. Every word. I want to marry her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her because I’ve spent far too much of it without her, and every day was utter misery.
With my shriveled heart hanging low in my chest, I turn onto the drive toward Red Rock. It’s quiet, peaceful, and completely void of meaning now that Savannah’s gone.
And it might very well be for good too.
Nash sits on the porch, nursing a beer. I stagger toward the house, my shoulders drooping forward.
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.
I drop down next to him and stare at the moon glowing above us.
“What happened?” Nash asks before taking another swig from the bottle.
“I made a dumbass move by showing up at her job. I stood out like a dick on a cake, for fuck’s sake. And I told her about how I bought the ranch for her, how I wanted to marry her—”
“Wait . . . you proposed?” Nash’s eyes pop open wide.
“Yeah,” I say. “It wasn’t planned. Just kind of an in-the-moment decision.
” I look at him. “Not that I didn’t mean it.
But it wasn’t the proposal she deserved.
I just . . . panicked. Maybe I got a little overwhelmed, seeing her for the first time after she left.
But I knew I couldn’t let her get away again.
In the end, she sent me away. Fucking ironic, huh? ”
I sigh and lean back against the side of the railing. “She said I was making decisions for her again. Still trying to control everything. Not an easy habit to break, I guess.”
“She needs time. Real time, B. Give it to her.”
My chest tightens. “She said when she wants to come back, it has to be on her terms. If she ever comes back.”
“So if you can’t do anything to change her mind, then do the only thing you can and keep fixing up the ranch.
Put her ideas into action, just like you started to do.
Make this place profitable again.” He shrugs.
“She may never get to see it, but at least you’ll know you tried your hardest to make it up to her. ”
“That’s the plan.”
Nash claps me on the shoulder and goes back inside, leaving me sitting on the porch of a ranch Savvie abandoned, one I’m holding on to for her.
One she may never want back.
Sleep doesn’t come easy that night.
My body can’t rest. Just before dawn the next day, I’m out of bed, needing to start my day, to escape all of the thoughts pummeling me from all sides. I can still hear her voice, feel her anger.
I don’t know what the hell I was thinking by cornering her the way I did. As if I really believed she’d melt at my feet and follow me back to Whiskey Creek. It wasn’t nearly enough, not after what I put her through. And no amount of apologizing can erase the past.
The most I can do is look toward the future. Right now, my future is Red Rock. I committed to that once I signed the papers. Maybe it’s poetic justice that I take over Savvie’s family legacy and turn it around the way they all would have wanted to do themselves if they had the opportunity.
I’m out by the barn when Wyatt shows up.
“You’re up and out early,” I say.
“Yeah, well, taking a break from the rodeo circuit gives me a chance to sleep at night.”
My lips lift into a half smirk. “And your groupies? They’re okay with that?”
He chuckles. “Eh. Maybe I want something more. It’s good to have this time to figure it out,” he says. “And what about you? I heard things didn’t go real well in Denver. I get that you didn’t want to talk about it last night.”
“Don’t really want to talk about it now,” I say, heaving a bag of feed over my shoulder before emptying it into the trough.
“That’s fair. She needs space and time. It makes sense after that shitstorm nearly swallowed her whole.”
“She may not come back,” I say, swallowing past the lump in my throat.
“Yep,” Wyatt says, bending over to fill a bucket of water. “And you’ve got a lot to do in the meantime. With our help. We’re here for ya, B.”
I take a look around at the cattle in the pastures, the reddish-orange sun peeking over the hazy purple horizon.
I’m building something here. Something amazing.
It may never be acknowledged by Savannah.
But maybe it’ll help keep me from completely falling apart.