I make a mental note to talk to her about her mama later because it’s clear she has no interest in continuing that conversation right now. She’s as stubborn as a bull when it comes to something she doesn’t want to deal with. Quinn is an expert at avoidance.
“It’s been ten years, babe. We aren’t the same kids we were back then. We were shaky friends at best and regardless of what he’s said a lot of hurt is standing in the way of taking that friendship to something further. I love you for your optimism, but I’m not sure that it isn’t too late.” My mind quickly brings up the memory of our stolen kiss in the field between our families’ properties, the one that even now—ten years later—I haven’t told a soul about. We were so much more than shaky friends.
She studies me for a second, not giving anything away with her expression. “I understand that, but Leighton, I want to say something to you and I need you to really think about it. Don’t make a split-second decision, but really let it sink in, okay?”
“Okay,” I respond hesitantly.
“Can you honestly tell me that since he’s been home, you don’t feel like that piece of you that’s been hollow since he left isn’t starting to feel like it’s mending a little? You’ve dated, sure, but you’ve NEVER let that piece find a way to heal. My brother comes back home and not even twelve hours pass before you two are pulled back together. Regardless of what happened to fuel that, when two people are meant for each other sometimes their souls make the moves their brains are too busy analyzing in order to allow it to happen. You both use your pain as a shield to keep people out, and because of that, you’re fighting against the one person that has the power to heal every second of that pain. Stop fighting. You’re allowed to be hurt over his actions, Leighton. You should. But when you are tied to another person right down to your souls, you don’t give that kind of connection up without making sure you have all the facts, and honey, you don’t. Let him give you the full story. If you feel like what he’s done in the past is unforgivable still, then at least you can make that call with all the facts.”
“You make it sound so easy, Quinn.”
She laughs, the sound lacking any humor. “It’s not, Leigh. It’s gonna be hard and I’m sure painful, but just think, if the end means you two are together, or you finally have the closure you need to move on, well . . . either way, you can leave that purgatory you say has you held captive. But if you end up with him, just think about how sweet that is going to be when you come out on the other side.”
She gives me a sad smile, grabbing the other rhubarb pie I brought over before she walks out of the work area and into the break room where the fridge is.
Could she be right? Is opening myself up to this kind of pain worth the payout that might be waiting for me? Or what if I open myself up again, only to have my heart smashed all over when Maverick feels like this town is suffocating him again? Better yet, will I regret it if I don’t try?
I guess the better question at this point is, who is going to run first? And will that person be running toward something, or away from something else?
With my mind spinning from everything that Quinn told me today, I do the only thing that has ever been able to help when my thoughts are a maelstrom of confusion.
I rush back down Main Street and I bake.
15
MAVERICK
“Should’ve Been a Cowboy” by Toby Keith
Sitting across from Clay in the old man’s office is making my skin crawl. I hate being in here. Judging by the tension rolling off Clay, he hates it just as much as I do, but there’s work to do and this is where it needs to happen.
“This place could run itself blind, Clay. You don’t need me on the breedin’ end. Hell, neither of us would have to do a damn thing but show up when buyers do and collect the checks and this ranch would continue to thrive.”
He pulls his white hat off, scratching his messy hair before placing the hat back down, shadowing his face once again. “I hear what you’re sayin’, Mav, but what you’re askin’ means I would need to sink a ton of fuckin’ money into something that I have no interest or fuckin’ time to handle right now.”
“I’m not askin’ you to handle shit and you know it. I own just as much of this ranch as you do now. You also know I don’t need your fuckin’ money to make it happen. I wouldn’t want that money even if I did. I want this for me because it’s somethin’ I believe in, but it’s also somethin’ that’s mine without him all over it. I’m askin’ you for land you don’t need and I’m askin’ for your blessing to find my own way with somethin’ that makes me happy.”
“Fuck!” he bellows and looks up to the ceiling. “What are you fuckin’ up to, little brother?”
“Hell, Clayton . . . I’m just tryin’ to find my feet when they’ve been knocked out from under me. I’m tryin’ to find my way while I make some good memories to replace the nightmares that hide in every corner around this fuckin’ ranch. I’m just tryin’ to get back what I lost when I couldn’t see past the horror show that was our childhood.”
He pulls off his hat again, tossing it onto the desk. I watch it spin a few times before settling with a gentle rock. Seeing the sweat-stained band on the inside of his Stetson makes me think of my own that I had left behind with Leigh. I feel like I’ve lost a limb being without it, but I’m fuckin’ prayin’ that by leavin’ it behind, I’ve given her enough to find her way back to me.
“The land you’re asking for, Maverick . . . shit. If you fuck this up and hightail it back outta here again, this will make that night in the middle of the woods look like a fuckin’ paper cut compared to the damage this will do.”
It takes one hell of an effort not to blow my top at him; instead, I take a deep breath before answering. “I’ve told you every day since I got back in Pine Oak, Clay. I’m not leavin’. I’m here to stay, and God willing, I’m here to get back what I lost.”
He makes a noise deep in his throat and shuffles some papers around on the desk. “I figured when you told me you would come back, you would actually help around here.”
“There’s nothin’ good for me on this ranch except you and Quinn. I can’t be here without thinkin’ the old man is goin’ to come out and bash my head in because I’m not walkin’ straight. I’m tryin’ to prove to you I’m stickin’ around, but I can’t do that here, on this property.”
Clay looks up, his eyes more sympathetic than I’ve seen since I got back almost a month ago. “He’s gone, Mav. Can’t hurt you from the grave.”
My chest vibrates, the sound far from a laugh. “That’s where you’re wrong, brother. He’s left his mark all over this damn place. Just being here, in this house, around the barn, the training fields—it’s all him. All I do is walk two fuckin’ feet and I’m relivin’ some bullshit in my mind. I don’t want to run, but to prove I’m stickin’ around I have to do it away from the Davis ranch.”