Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Aw, shit. He’s on to me. Might as well be honest.
“You and Patsy—I know y’all met in high school. But how did you…” I ponder my words carefully. “You know, keep her? Get her to stay?”
John B’s face creases pleasantly as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I kept her by letting her go.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does, though. Patsy’s a dreamer. I knew she had plans for her life. Whether I fit into those plans or not, that was her call. Relationships are about compromise, sure. But no one should have to compromise on the big stuff. The big dreams.”
I kick at the dirt on the floor. “I don’t disagree.”
“Patsy and I were together in high school. But we went to different colleges, and obviously, I went to veterinary school after that. Throughout that time, I always made sure she knew how much I loved her. That I’d work my fingers to the bone to make her happy.”
My heart bangs against my breastbone. “Right.”
“So first, you tell her how you feel.”
Literal gulp. “Mm-hmm.”
John chuckles. “Telling Patsy I loved her for the first time might’ve been the most terrifying moment of my life. And I’ve been gored by a bull. Twice.”
“Jesus, John.”
“Occupational hazard. Anyway, the risk was worth the reward.” He sweeps out his arm. I know what he’s referring to—the life he’s built alongside Patsy. “I think because I was unafraid of telling her how I felt, telling her what I wanted, she did the same. We always knew where we stood with each other.”
“That does make sense.”
“And second, y’all gotta have fun with each other. What’s the point of bein’ together if you can’t laugh and have a good time? That’s the glue. Get the fun right, and chances are, she’ll stick around.”
Rolling my shoulders, I let my head fall back. “I’m not great at fun.”
“You said it yourself. Practice makes perfect.”
“The part about letting her go. What’s that about?”
John thinks on this for a beat. “Means you let her chase her dreams while you’re chasing yours. Be honest about what you want, of course. But don’t guilt her into anything. Don’t make her feel any pressure to make her life fit around yours. I knew Patsy wanted to go to a different college than I did. It was a better fit for her. Yeah, I was scared shitless she’d find someone new and forget about me. But…” His mouth curves into a small, secret smile. “I made sure I was unforgettable.”
My turn to chuckle. “Do I wanna know?”
“Son, a man doesn’t kiss and tell.” His eyes dance as they lock on mine. “From the way Mollie looks at you, I’d say you’re hard to forget too. Keep doing what you’re doing. Trust yourself. The rest will fall into place.”
I hesitate. “And if it doesn’t?”
John’s chest rises on an inhale. “Then it wasn’t meant to be. Awful thing to hear, I know. But you can’t hold on too tightly. If you let her go and she doesn’t come back, then we pick up the pieces and do the best we can to help you move on.”
My throat feels thick as I swallow. Much as I feel alone in my responsibilities sometimes, I know at the end of the day, my family—both real and found—really will be there to pick me up if I fall.
“Appreciate that,” I reply gruffly.
John walks over to clap me on the shoulder. “I got a feeling, though, that Mollie’s comin’ back.”
I hope he’s right.
And when she does, I hope she stays.
CHAPTER 27
Mollie
WHEN IT RAINS, IT POURS
“Goodness, Mollie, you’re nearly impossible to get on the phone these days.” I hear the click, click, click of Mom’s blinker on the other end of the line. “Answer when I call, honey! Otherwise, I worry.”
Ducking into the New House’s primary bedroom, I close the door behind me. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve been so freaking busy, I haven’t had a second to catch my breath.”
A pause.
“Not busy with any cowboys, I hope?”
My stomach flips as I force out a nervous laugh. “I know how you feel about cowboys.”
Looking around, my stomach flips again at the disaster before me. There are clothes everywhere. Shoes litter the carpet while stacks of paperwork sit on every available surface. The only semi-neat area is the bed itself. I made it up, gah, when? Last Thursday? Thursday before that? Whatever day was the last time I slept here before I ended up at Cash’s.
I’ve stayed at the cabin ever since, only coming back to take my birth control and grab what I need before supper every day. Which is why this room is such a mess. Between working on the ranch, then working on Bellamy Brooks at night, then working out my stress between the sheets with Cash, I don’t have time to pick up. I told the cleaning service that comes every week to just leave the room alone. Why clean it if it’s not actually being used?