“He might be…gone.”
“Then he’s an asshole and an idiot. And a fucker. And a whole other list of things. Go. Find out. You want me to come with you?”
“No. No. Go home. Summer might cry if you don’t get her up on a horse today.”
“That girl is going to cry either way. She cries at everything. Happy. Sad. Kittens.”
Mel snorted. “She’s a mess.”
“But I think she might be good for us.”
“I have no doubt, actually.” Summer showing up felt more and more like serendipity than the catastrophe she’d initially figured it would be. Not that anything good was happening with Dad, but nothing worse than things already were.
In fact, not even worse, because over the past five years she’d slowly come to the conclusion that Dad had never really cared, or loved her nearly as deeply as she’d thought. If he could turn himself off like that because of his accident, then maybe she’d always imagined his affection.
But he’d let Mom walk away with his child because Mom had threatened to take her, and she couldn’t deny that had to mean something. Couldn’t get over the belief that it meant Dad was under the shell of a man he’d become. Somewhere.
And maybe they could find it.
But first things first.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said to Caleb, pushing the door open and hoping her legs held her up. Her legs felt weak. Everything felt weak.
“Take your time. I’ve got things covered.” He readjusted his hat and made a wry face. “Promise this time.”
“I believe you.” And she did, which she wasn’t sure she could have said a few weeks ago. Caleb had been right about needing to be honest.
Honesty. Trying again. Not shutting off everything in the hopes the pain would shut off too. That was a lot of stuff to change in such a short period of time. Heavy and intimidating, but laced with something she hadn’t felt in so long.
Hope.
Laced with something she’d tried to convince herself didn’t exist, or couldn’t last. But she believed now.
Love did hurt. But it healed and it gave and it supported. It was there, a hand on her back when she was facing something she didn’t know how to deal with. Strong arms around her when she broke down or a hand to hold on a starlit night.
On not-quite steady legs, she walked to the cabin. She’d take a peek in the window, maybe the door if it was unlocked, and see if her keys were in there. Then, if she didn’t see anything, she’d search for Buck.
She felt like some kind of creepy Peeping Tom, peering into the window next to the door. Everything looked about the same, if dark. Llama books piled on the table, and her truck keys sitting on the counter exactly where she’d left them.
Well, at least he hadn’t tossed them into the fields as she’d half expected.
“He’s gone.”
Mel jumped and turned to see Buck staring at her from below the porch. She swallowed. “Gone?”
“Yup. Chicago.”
Even though she’d imagined it, the confirmation was painful. She leaned against the wall of the cabin, trying to stay upright. Trying not to cry. She’d ruined everything. Everything. Not just her chances with Dan, but this thing he’d been so excited about. All because she’d pretended not to believe in him to save her own stupid heart.
She slid into a crouch, idiot that she was. She would not cry in front of Buck, of all damn people, but all the strength had been knocked completely out of her. How did she fix this?
“He’ll be back Wednesday.”
“What?” The words made no sense in the midst of all her swirling thoughts.
“Wednesday. He’ll be back Wednesday,” Buck repeated, looking at her like she’d grown three heads. It was hard to blame him. “Had to go take care of things in Chicago for a few days or somethin’.”
“Right. Sure. Yeah.” Mel kept nodding, long past the moment she needed to. It took physically putting her hands on her face to stop, to get some semblance of reason back in gear.
Buck muttered something and walked back to the llamas, and Mel sat, trying to breathe through the remaining pangs of panic and heartbreak, and focus on the reality. He wasn’t gone for good. If he was taking care of things in Chicago he was, in fact, probably making arrangements to come back for good.
Wednesday.
She could wait. She could. Or… No, she couldn’t… She’d wait. It would be the sensible thing to wait for him to come back, and then she could lay out her apologies. Her own…love crap.
Or…
Mel stumbled to her feet, swallowing down the jittery flips her stomach seemed to be doing. The idea was not sensible. Going to Chicago on a whim, without knowing if there’d be a flight or where he was…it was something she would never, ever do.
Which seemed like reason enough to do it, to prove…something. That she wasn’t afraid.