He pushes out another burst of air across my face, like he’s agreeing with me.
“I’ll sneak you in tomorrow,” I promise.
I’m not sure how I’ll pull it off, but I’ll try. Surely, the asshole cowboy needs to leave the ranch sometime. He can’t be here all the time. The last thing I want to do is start asking the others about him. I have no doubt they’ll run right to him.
Cowboys are worse gossipers than little old ladies in a bingo hall.
“Finish eating, and I’ll see you in the morning,” I say lowly, rounding my hand up his head to stroke his nose. “You’re a good boy, Diesel. I’m sorry I was gone so long.”
I give his nose one last stroke before backing off. He watches me move, dark eyes making it hard to leave. For a beat, I consider saying fuck it and spending the night curled up on the hay in his stall. It’s reckless to fall asleep in a horse’s pen like that, but it wouldn’t be the first time. Wild animal or not, Diesel’s family to me.
“I’ll get to you tomorrow. Let’s see Rowe try to stop me.”
And with that, I wink at Diesel and leave the stable, sliding the door shut behind me.
There’sa box of shit in my trailer still needing to be unpacked.
Ash dumped it here today after popping in out of the blue. He said this box was the reason, but I know he just wanted to make sure I hadn’t run off again. I could have stopped by the post office to pick it up tomorrow.
The box came from Nova Scotia. It’s marked in my writing, and the postage label is the one I’d stuck on before I boarded my plane. There were a couple of boxes of things that I couldn’t fit in my suitcases and had mailed from the rental I was living in during Ethan’s and my separation. I debated leaving thembehind. The last bit of my nostalgia inside of me that still refuses to die off wouldn’t let me do that.
Now, I don’t know if I want to open the box or toss it into the lake.
I make up my mind and grab a knife from the block on the counter. A memory hits me when I lower myself to a crouch above the box, the tip of the knife already digging into the shoddy tape job. It’s one I didn’t know I even had but, in this moment, is more fitting than any I thought I did remember.
Some siblings chase each other with worms they find in mud puddles or a piece of food they know the other hates. Ash and I were different. He would put garter snakes into my bed while I was sleeping, and I’d pay him back by chasing him around the house with a knife.
Maybe I should have been put into therapy instead of riding lessons.
Huffing a laugh, I cut open the tape and pull the flaps open. Once I drop the knife, I sit on the floor and pull the piece of bubble wrap free that’s covering the boxed-up memories.
“Shit,” I mutter to myself, staring at which of my shipments arrived first.
The stacks of letters held together by elastics stretched to their limits are on top of an orange envelope that I know is full of old photos. Leaning back and away from the box, I inwardly chastise myself for being such an idiot. I should have burned them all a decade ago. Instead, here they are. I can almost hear the letters cackling, knowing that I’m too chickenshit to read them again.
Well, fuck that.
I rip the elastic off and take the top letter. The date on it is one I couldn’t ever forget. It’s the first day I’d heard from Rowe after he was led out of the courtroom and taken from all of us.A month had passed since then, and despite my best efforts, I hadn’t been able to convince Ash to take me to visit him.
Unfolding the letter, I steel my spine and try to read it like I would anything else.
September 17th
Tilly,
I don’t know if you hate me for what I did and will burn this the moment you see who it came from, or if you’ll do it after you’ve read what I have to say. Either way, I needed to at least try and see if you’re okay. There’s no way Ezra has bothered you now, but I can’t sleep worth a shit wondering if he’s recovered enough to be stupid and try to talk to you again. Or to share the videos even now.
You didn’t have to go to the courthouse. I appreciate that you did, though. Can you tell your parents that it meant a lot to me to see them there with you and Ash?
Yeah… alright. That’s all I wanted to say. Tell me the truth about Ezra.
Okay. Bye, hellcat.
Rowe
It took me two weeks to reply to him. I used a pencil to write my thoughts first. Then, I crumpled it up and rewrote it in pen. I tried red, then blue, before settling on black. It was completely pathetic how neatly I made myself write because I wanteddesperately to impress him. I was twenty-one and enamoured with the man who had nearly killed someone for trying to ruin my life.
We weren’t exchanging love notes. They were the furthest thing from that. Even as the months went on, they were never outwardly romantic. I was crushing on him terribly, but he didn’t share those feelings. I was never surer of that than when his last letter came.
