“Come on, Lou.” His low, comfortable voice was a balm to my soul. In our short time together, he had given me a lot of reasons to trust him. I just needed to find my courage to do it one more time.
Deep breath.
“The whole time on the snowmobile ride today, I started freaking out about how I had been so forward with you and how I shouldn’t have done that to your ear and what you must think of me and and how you probably hated it and how I’m the only girl on the ranch right now and that’s the only reason you’re paying me any attention. That kind of thing. On repeat.”
He was silent for a long moment. Then he held up a finger. “Hold up. After the hot ear thing? On the snowmobile? That’s when you were thinking all that?”
I braved a glance at him. “Yeah.”
He whistled, impressed. “Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“Is that what things are like for you a lot?”
“Pretty much. It hasn’t been as bad here, actually, but my mind is still quick to run away from me. Quick to over-think my actions.”
“Do you want to know what I was thinking about on the snowmobile?”
“I’m scared to ask.”
“I’m going to spare you the full intimate details, but here’s the made-for-TV version. It went about like this, ‘Huh. I thought the creek was that way. Oh wait, yup, there it is. Dang, she smells good. I wonder how many feet of snow is right there in that hole? Man, my wet ear is freezing right now. If I tried to ride straight up that mountain, I wonder how fast I’d have to go to make it? Did she just touch my leg? I hope she finally puts the moves on me.’”
I laid there in stunned silence, a smile growing on my face. Laughter begging to be let free. I felt his gaze on me and I did the most mature thing and pulled my blanket over my head and laughed my butt off. A rich, deep chuckle joined me and soon we were wiping tears.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I said, when things had settled. “Well, I do know, but I wish I knew how to turn it off.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” Dusty’s voice cut through the night. “Sure, you worry too much. That’s just how your brain is wired. Always has been. But you were the one keeping Julia and me out of trouble half the time when we were kids. Sometimes it can be a gift to see the possibilities of things before they might happen. I know you have to find a balance, and maybe that means medication sometimes or just learning how to cope, but geez, I’d probably do a lot better if I worried about things more than I do. But there’s nothing wrong with you, Lou. I’d say you’re dang near perfect.”
I was afraid to move a muscle. Afraid to burst this beautiful, enchanting bubble he had cocooned me in. Afraid to breathe. But I needed to breathe. A small heated tear leaked out of the corner of my eye and I let his words wash over me again. ‘There’s nothing wrong with you, Lou.’
There was never a question of whether I was loved by my family and friends. Love was never something I doubted. But growing up in my family, we each had our place, our jobs. It made our day to day life more dependable, each of us playing our roles. Julia was who we cheered on at sporting events and the loud and funny one who stole the stage in every room. I was the responsible and dependable one. But I was also the worry wart. The one on medication. The one whose neurotic episodes became hilarious family stories told at Thanksgiving. Nervous things I’d said to guys during a date became family legends. Inside jokes. But always, always, always...after the laughs and after the plates were cleared from the table, I was left feeling hollow. Weird. Broken. Like something was wrong with me.
‘There’s nothing wrong with you, Lou.’
I couldn’t recall a time where anyone had ever told me that. Another stinging tear streaked down my face and I was thankful for this cloak of darkness. For Dusty. And for the storm and strange circumstances that found us sharing a room by a warm fire for the night.
Dusty must have taken the extended silence as a signal that I was done talking. “You sure you’ll be warm enough over there?” he asked, pulling up his covers and settling in.
I discreetly brushed at the last tear from my face. My entire body felt lighter, almost giddy. “Nope. I’m not.”
“If you need extra hotness, I’m right over here.”
I snorted. “Nice line.”
“I can’t believe, all this time, it was just to spite your sister that you wanted to make out with me. You didn’t even like me.” He heaved a dramatic sigh that brought a smile to my lips.
Heat bloomed in my chest as I thought back to my days on the ranch with Dusty. Between me, him, and Julia, we spent our days helping Grandpa and our nights playing ping pong or card games or sneaking pop tarts. We would stargaze out on the porch, explore the terrain with our horses, go fishing, and talk about our hopes for the future. What we would become. Who we wanted to be. Though Julia was the most vocal on her feelings toward our mutual cowboy friend, mine had been there too. More subtle perhaps, but there just the same. How could I not have liked Dusty? Even as a boy he had the soul of a man. Quiet, humble, sweet, and full of teasing and easy laughter.
“I never said that.”
There was a beat of silence before movement in the dark told me Dusty had turned his head to face mine. “What was that?”
My eyes closed and I swallowed, forcing myself to be brave. To stop fighting happiness.
“I never said I didn’t like you.”
I sunk deeper into my pile of blankets, bravery taking an exhausting toll. But I had a stupid smile on my face and a heart that wouldn’t stop threatening to explode. That was enough courage for one night. So I turned away from him, facing my couch, and said, “Good night, Dusty. And thank you.”
