Chapter Forty-One Blaze
Chapter Forty-One
Blaze
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”
Starlight huffs and nudges my shoulder, no doubt waiting for the apple I usually bring.
I take it from my pocket and hold it out for her.
“Is this what you want?”
She takes a bite, keeping her eyes on me while she chews, like it’s okay for me to keep talking. Like she knows I need a friend right now.
I run my hand down her neck, checking the spot where she pulled a muscle last week. The knot is almost gone. Knowing she won’t be able to ride anymore tugs at my heart strings. But it’s dangerous because of her older age, and I can’t bear to see her in pain.
Starlight takes another bite of the apple.
“The guys say I need to move on. To stop waiting for someone who’s not coming back.”
Another huff.
“I know, girl. I know what you’re thinking. It’s about time I smartened up, right?” I lean my forehead against her warm neck. “It’s been months. She’s been dating some guy in Denver the whole time I’ve been here fixing this place up. Pretty pathetic, right?”
I think I like coming out here so much because I can talk to Starlight, knowing she can’t respond.
She doesn’t judge me for my actions. She doesn’t tell me what I need to do or not do, how to live, how to survive.
She just welcomes me and loves me unconditionally. Well, as long as I bring her apples.
Nash and my brothers want the best for me, but lately they’ve really been pushing me toward figuring out my own future. Seems like it happened right after Nash told me about the boyfriend. I guess they want to prepare me for bigger news, like Savanah getting engaged, which turns my fucking stomach.
But if it makes her happy, then I have to be happy for her. Right? I mean, isn’t that how it goes? If you love someone, let them go, and if they love you, they’ll always come back?
I loved her and let her go. She doesn’t feel the same way, and that’s more karma for me, I guess.
“The ranch is done. Everything she wanted. We’ve got all these renters now, new equipment, solar panels, a grazing system, improved water systems to handle all the livestock from the money we’ve been making.
” A sneaky twinge assaults my heart. “And she has no idea. Because she doesn’t care to find out.
She’s moved on. I need to do the same thing. ”
Starlight lets out a soft neigh.
Footsteps crunch on the ground behind me as they approach the barn. I guess therapy’s over.
It’s probably Nash. He’s been watching pretty closely since he unloaded the boyfriend news on me. I know he’s worried. But it’s not like I’m gonna do something stupid. Dealing with the pain is the worst punishment I can imagine, and that’s my penance.
“I’m okay, Nash. Just hanging out with Starlight. You don’t have to keep checking on me.”
I turn around, the apple still in my outstretched hand.
But it’s not Nash standing in the barn doorway.
It’s Savannah. The late-afternoon sun catches the top of her head, making her hair glow like a halo. My mouth falls open, and I forget how to breathe.
“Hi,” she says quietly.
So much time spent waiting and questioning, convincing myself she was never coming back.
And the only words I can manage to speak are “You’re here.”
“I probably should have called,” she says, taking a few tentative steps toward me. Starlight nickers, and a smile stretches across Savannah’s lips as she reaches under her chin.
“Hey, girl. Remember me?”
Starlight nudges Savannah’s hand like no time has passed, and I just stare because my mind is working overtime, trying to process the frenzy of thoughts looping through it.
Her focus is on the horse, not me. That realization makes my heart sink, but . . . she’s here. That’s something. I’m not sure what, exactly, but it has to mean something that she’s not in Denver.
“When did you get here?” I finally say when my mouth decides to work.
“Just now,” she says. “I wandered back here to look around and heard your voice.” She turns to look at me. “So I followed it.”
“I-I’m glad,” I choke out.
“Nash doesn’t know I’m here. I didn’t tell him I was coming. I . . . I didn’t want it to be a big deal, but I needed to see for myself what you’d done.” She turns fully, squaring her shoulders. “And I needed to see you.”
So many questions bounce around my brain, but I’m afraid to ask any of them. I don’t want to give myself anything to grasp onto if it’s going to be yanked away again.
“I got a letter from Aunt Marg about a week ago,” she says. “Kent forwarded it according to her instructions.”
“Is that why you’re back?”
“Partly. She had some hopes for how I’d live my life. Hopes I’m not sure I’ve been living up to . . .” She fixes a cool gaze on me, and a shudder ripples through me. “I’ve been too caught up with trying to escape pain.”
“Savvie, I’m so sorry for all of it. I fucking hate that I drove you away again, and I—”
“I know you are,” she says, interrupting me. “I’ve known how sorry you are since the day at the warehouse. But that’s not why I stayed away.”
“Then why did you?”
“Honestly?” she says, walking past the other horse stalls. “Because I didn’t know if sorry was enough. If love was enough. If any of it was enough to rebuild what had been broken.”
She turns, her hands clasped together. “And because I was scared. I mean, what if I came back here and got involved again, only to find out things between us can’t be fixed? It would have devastated me to the point where I really don’t know how I’d be able to move forward.”
“But you did come back.”
She nods. “I realized I can’t heal if I keep avoiding everything that hurt me. And because the letter made me realize all of the things I might be giving up if I didn’t take a chance. If I didn’t try. So I came back. For me. To reclaim this place and my life. To face everything I left behind.”
“I’m glad,” I say softly, my throat tight. “I want you to heal. To find happiness.”
A thought jars me. But what about the Denver boyfriend? Is he coming too?
I ball my fingers into tight fists. Fuck that.
Her lips pull into a tight line, and she stalks over to me. “You know, I had a life in Denver. A boyfriend. A great guy who adored me. An amazing career.”
“I know,” I say. “I heard all about it from Nash. And I’m . . . happy for you.”
She slams a hand against my chest and shoves me.
I stumble backward, too shocked to keep my balance.
“Yeah, well, guess what? I broke up with him. We were making plans for the future, and I realized I didn’t want that future.
I had just been trying to fill the emptiness.
And it wasn’t fair to him. To either of us, really. So I ended things. He just wasn’t you.”
My jaw drops, and I’m not sure what to say at this point. Or if I should say anything and risk getting shoved again.
But then I see the way she looks at me. She closes the distance between us, her hands coming up to frame my face.
“I tried,” she whispers, her forehead dropping against my chest. “I tried so hard to get over you. To build a life that didn’t include you. And I couldn’t.”
I wrap my arms around her, and she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she grips my shirt tighter, her breath shuddering against my neck.
“I’m so angry at you,” she says, voice muffled. “For what you did. For making me love you when I shouldn’t have.”
“I know.”
“But I can’t seem to stop.”
I tighten my grip, burying my face in her hair, breathing her in. “I love you, Savvie. I never stopped. I never will.”
She pulls back just enough to look up at me, tears tracking down her cheeks. “I don’t know if love is enough.”
“Then we’ll figure out what else we need.” I cup her face, thumbs brushing away her tears. “However long it takes. Whatever you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
She holds my gaze for a long moment, searching. Then, slowly, she nods.
Her fingers fist my shirt. “I’m not saying I forgive you. Or that we’re together. Or that I trust you. What you did . . . none of that goes away just because you restored this place.”
She releases me and takes a step back, a deep sigh quaking her chest. “But I can’t deny everything you did for me. I’m not saying we can’t find our way back. I’m just . . . I don’t know. I came back to find what I’ve been searching for. My sense of self. A real home.”
With a shrug, she twists her ponytail between her fingers, a move she always makes when she’s carefully considering her next words.
“You’re part of that now. I can’t separate you from it.
So I don’t know what happens next, but .
. . I’m willing to find out.” She bites down on her lower lip. “If you are.”
I swallow hard. “Does that mean you’re staying?”
“I’ll buy the ranch back from you, over time,” she says. “I appreciate all the work you’ve done, and I will reimburse you for everything.”
I hold up a hand. “No. Not a chance. I bought it for you. I’ll sign everything over to you, but I don’t want a cent.”
“It’s too much. I can’t—”
“I insist. Please. Let me have this one thing. I wanted to do this. Every second I spent working to get Red Rock back to its glory days was worth it if at the end of the day, you love it as much as I love you.”
She recoils with a gasp.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that,” I say.
“No, it’s fine.” Her lips lift into something that’s almost a smile, the first real one I’ve seen since she walked into this barn. “I mean, I guess that was pretty smooth for a guy who’s been talking to a horse for six months.”
I chuckle. “Starlight’s a great listener. Very supportive. Never interrupts.”
She steps closer. “So what else have you told Starlight about me?”
Heat crawls up the sides of my neck. “Nothing.”
“Liar.” She crosses her arms, lifting an eyebrow.
“Just that . . .” I scrub a hand over my jaw. “That I miss you. That I think about you every day. That every improvement I made to this place was because I kept imagining your face when you’d see it. Your smile when you’d realize it was everything you dreamed of.”
Her expression softens.
“And maybe I told her you were the most beautiful, stubborn, incredible woman I’d ever known. But that’s it. I swear.”
When she smiles, my heart soars in my chest because maybe there’s something here after all. But I need her to be completely comfortable and to feel in control of all of this so she can settle back into her life here and remember why she loved it so much.
“I’m staying in the bunkhouse with a couple of other ranch hands I hired.
It was too much for just Mikey and Randy to handle part time.
The rentals have made things a lot busier around here.
Lots more livestock to feed and graze. Maintenance has gotten tougher too.
But don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. ”
“Okay,” she says after a long minute. “And, Blaze, I need you to understand that I might decide that this can’t work after all. Us, I mean. That the trust is just too broken.”
“I get that,” I say, keeping my voice as even as I can manage.
“And I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.
Even if it’s just the two of us working together, side by side.
As . . . friends.” I almost choke on the word, but I know it’s what she needs to hear.
So I say it, and even hearing it makes me die a little bit inside.
Because I know I can’t be friends with this woman. I need her, all of her, in my life. Forever.
I just need to figure out how to make her want the same thing.
“I should go inside,” Savannah says, but she doesn’t move. Just stands there, looking at me like she’s memorizing my face.
“Yeah,” I say. “You should.”
Neither of us moves.
“I’m scared,” she finally whispers. “That we won’t be able to move past what happened. That I’ll get hurt again.”
“I am too.” I step closer. “Scared I can’t be enough. That I’ll mess this up. That you’ll decide you deserve better than me.” I swallow hard. “But Savvie, I’m more scared of not trying. Of letting fear keep me from fighting for us.”
“Me too,” she says.
The admission hangs between us.
Then, slowly . . . so slowly I’m not sure she’s even aware she’s doing it . . . she reaches out for me. Her fingers brush mine. The touch is tentative and soft, and I freeze, afraid to breathe, afraid she’ll pull away.
But she doesn’t.
Instead, her fingers lace with mine, and she squeezes.
“One day at a time,” she says. “We take this one day at a time. No promises about tomorrow. We’ll just . . . see what happens.”
“One day at a time,” I repeat, the lump in my throat so big, it almost blocks my words.
The vulnerability in her eyes guts me. But there’s something else there too. Something that looks like possibility. And I’m clinging to it with everything in me.
“I want this to work, Blaze. I’m terrified it won’t, but I want to try.”
“That’s all I need.” I squeeze her hand back gently. “However long it takes. Whatever you need. I’m here.”
She nods, then takes a shaky breath and pulls her hand away. But before she goes, she rises on her toes and presses a kiss to my cheek.
“Good night, Blaze,” she whispers against my skin.
“Good night, Savvie.”
I watch her walk toward the house, my hand still tingling from her touch, my cheek burning from her lips.
After all this time, she’s finally here. She’s staying.
And for the first time in months, I let myself hope.