The text didn’t play, and Winnie checked the road in front of her again, found no one, and reached to tap the button again. Her finger landed right this time, and the car said, “Message from Tyson Greene. What are you doing a week from Saturday? My friend is getting married and I need a date.”
Without thinking, Winnie lifted her foot from the gas pedal and pressed on the brake. The car began to slow, obviously taking its cue from her mind. Before she knew it, she’d come to a stop right there in the middle of the highway leading south to Three Rivers.
She’d become friends with Libby Jackson, who owned and operated Three Rivers Ranch, after the woman had hurt herself during the harvest season. She’d been coming to Winnie to regain the full range of motion in her right shoulder, and she’d extended the invite to the New Year’s Eve party Winnie and Taylor had attended tonight.
Winnie had been in town for a little over six months now, and about four months ago, she’d made a personal pact with herself to say yes to anything she got invited to. The Town Council needed volunteers at the first aid station at the summer dances?
Winnie said yes.
Her co-worker wanted to trade shifts?
Winnie said yes.
Her mentor at the clinic wanted her to go out for appetizers and drinks with him and his wife?
Winnie said yes.
So when Libby had asked if she’d like to attend the party, Winnie had, once again, said yes.
She picked up her phone from its riding spot in the cup holder. She should’ve known Ty would be at the party tonight; he was friends with every cowboy in town, having grown up here. “Practically at Three Rivers Ranch itself,” she muttered.
She’d seen his mother’s training facility, right there on the left-hand side of the road at the ranch. Of course, the handsome-hot cowboy who could barely tolerate her would be at tonight’s ringing in of the New Year.
He hadn’t looked happy to be there, and she’d actually wondered if he’d made a personal pact the way she had, and said yes to things simply to feel like he was part of a community, part of something bigger than himself, not forgotten in the billions of people in the world.
The words her car had read to her shone on the screen.What are you doing a week from Saturday? My friend is getting married and I need a date.
The text honestly represented Ty to a T. Blunt, straight to the point, no wasted words.
Winnie looked up as a pair of headlights approached her. To her great horror, the car began to slow, and the truck came to a stop with the two driver’s windows lined up. The man across from her flipped on his interior light, and she rolled her window down halfway.
“Are you okay?” he asked. His wife rode in the passenger seat, and they both wore concern in their eyes.
“Yes.” She held up her phone. “I got a strange text is all.”
The man blinked at her like she’d lost her mind.
Humiliation painted its way through all of her internal organs. “I’m fine,” she said. “Thanks for stopping to check.” She rolled up her window and lifted her foot from the brake.
The car inched forward, and Winnie got herself going again. She drove home with the music on low and her mind running on high. A half-hour later, she pulled into her garage, tapped the button to close it behind her, and waited for the door to shut all the way before she got out of her sedan.
She entered her house to a brightly lit kitchen, because she always left those lights on if she’d be gone after dark. Rocky, her gray and white cat, said, “Mrow,” and then, “Mrow,” and then,“Mrrrrrow.”
The cat wove through her legs, begging for a pat, and Winnie bent down to stroke him absently. “Where’s Salmon, huh?”
She wasn’t surprised her black cat hadn’t come to greet her; he never did. She’d find him in his cat palace, or asleep on her bed, or judging her from atop her grandmother’s china cabinet.
She noted Taylor had not returned to the house, and she wondered if her sister would come stumbling in at three o’clock in the morning or not at all.
“She’s going home on Friday,” she told Rocky. And it couldn’t come fast enough.
She straightened and looked at her phone as if it were a foreign object that had fallen to earth from outer space. Winnie already knew she wasn’t doing anything a week from Saturday, but she tapped to get to her calendar, just to check.
She’d spoken to Wilder Glover about Tyson tonight, and she rolled her neck, her stomach mimicking the side-to-side movement. “Idiot,” she muttered to herself. Wilder had said he was “good friends” with Ty, buthewas the one who’d suggested Ty take her to the wedding.
Winnie hadn’t even known there was a wedding next weekend.
Can you call me?Winnie typed out the words and sent them to Ty. It had been a while since he’d texted, and she wasn’t surprised her message sat there, unread and unanswered.
