Chapter Twenty-Two
We step over the fence separating June’s store from Big River Ranch, and Brayden leads me to what he says is his favorite part of the ranch. The pine trees thicken as we walk along the trail, but the path opens out onto a clearing.
I can’t help but gasp. There’s a swinging wooden bench a few feet away, but that’s the only man-made thing I can see. Massive pine trees surround the clearing, and I glimpse a powerful river running just off to the right. I twist my neck so I can stare at the Montana sky, appearing even bigger out here than it does in town, and then I bring my gaze down to where Brayden’s watching me.
“Wow,” I say to him. “It’s incredible here.”
We step into the clearing, and Brayden takes a seat on the bench overlooking the rushing river. I sit cross-legged next to him.
It’s a breezy day, but the sun is shining, and the comforting Montana sky is a clear blue.
Much like Brayden’s eyes when I lower my gaze to meet his.
He points at the nearest tree. “Look at that crazy squirrel chasing the other one around and around the trunk and then high up into the branches. They play all day long sometimes.”
I feel the blood return to my face. “Is it easy for you to sit and do nothing?”
Brayden chuckles. “Is that a compliment or something else?”
I smile. “It’s a compliment.”
“Well, I don’t know. Yeah, I guess it is pretty easy. I’m not a list person. I don’t have a whole lot of to-dos every day. I try to get the big things done, and that’s about it.”
I like sitting around, doing nothing, too. I like not having equations and measurements running through my head the way I have with my PhD program and when I help Phillip.
Brayden searches my face. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Sure. Maybe a male opinion will be different,” I say.
When I’m finished telling him about my breakfast with Gerry, I look at Brayden hopefully. “Do you think it’s that bad what Phillip did?”
He squirms and doesn’t say anything one way or the other, but I see the flash of anger cross his face.
“You wouldn’t have done that, would you?” I say.
“I don’t…” Brayden begins awkwardly.
“Would you have done it?” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
“No,” he says in a firm tone. “I wouldn’t have. And I absolutely wouldn’t have kept it from you either. Not that or the conversation he had with your advisor. Especially not if you were the woman I was living with and planned to marry. I wouldn’t keep a secret like that from you. It was your dissertation and your data. If he knew it needed to be improved upon before you presented, he should have told you that rather than try to fix the situation himself.”
Exactly.
“It sounds like he meant well, though,” Brayden adds. “He tried to help.”
“He did.”
Neither of us adds that his reason for helping had more to do with his own needs than mine. At one point, my needs and Phillip’s were the same. But lately, that hasn’t been the case. And it’s nobody’s fault; sometimes you grow out of a relationship.
“We were so young when we got together,” I murmur almost to myself.
“How old were you when you started dating?”
“I was sixteen. I met him right after the party where I ran into you. We’ve been together ever since.”
“I’m glad he was there for you.”
“Me too. I owe him a lot.” I exhale heavily.
