So I manage a sheepish smile and say, “I haven’t properly thanked him. For, you know, saving my life. So I thought I’d go over and, yeah.” I clear my throat. “Do that. Thank him.”
Tate rolls his eyes so hard I can practicallyhearit. “You were gonna be just fine with or without Ryder Rivers.”
“That’s not true,” I reply, a little hurt. Embarrassed, more like it. “He kept me calm in the hospital. Distracted me?—”
“I’m just teasin’.” Tate turns off the faucet and grabs a towel, wiping his hands while he leans a hip into the apron of the sink. “Tell him I said thanks for taking such excellent care of my sister.”
My eyes sting. I blink. “Will do.”
“And y’all be good.” Tate’s eyes bore into mine. “By ‘y’all,’ I mean ‘you.’”
Wanting Ryder is like banging my head against the wall, I know. But I can’t seem to quit. Especially after seeing the swell of emotion in his eyes when I woke up in the arena. Made me think…I don’t know, something is different between us now.
I wanna know more.
I wanna see more.
Mom clucks her tongue as she tucks a sheet of tinfoil over the paper plate of leftover blondies. “Have some faith in your sister, Tate. She’s just going over for a quick visit. Right, Elizabeth May?”
I’m named after my grandmother, who passed away before I was born. They called her Eliza, but Mom liked the nickname Billie for me. When she’s mad, though, or she wants me to know she means business, she calls me by my given name: Elizabeth May.
I paste on a smile. “Right.”
I don’t wanna keep itquick. But I’ll take what I can get.
On the drive over to Lucky River Ranch, I roll down my windows and wonder if this is a selfish move I’m making in the guise of altruism. My boredom and existential angst are not Ryder’s problem. But I can’t stay home another night. Alone. Bored.
And, yeah, horny.
I just…can’t.
Even driving makes me feel better. More like myself. This is my first day behind the wheel of my old silver 4Runner since my accident, and I suck in lungful after lungful of crisp autumn air, the sun slanting through the windows and warming my skin as I sing along to the radio.
Mom wasn’t restless like this at my age. I can’t imagine her ever being even the least bit angsty. She’s so…steady. Sure of her place in the world.
Why can’t I be content with what I have too? Do Iwantto be content? Or do I like this part of myself, the inner child that yearns for more?
Taking the turn onto Ryder’s ranch, I slide my sunglasses onto my head. I don’t come to Lucky River Ranch that often these days, but I’ve lived all my life in Hart County, so I’ve visitedthis part plenty over the years. I’m always struck by how lush and pretty the Luck’s property is.
Ancient-looking oaks create a dappled canopy overhead. A rainbow of leaves, mostly red and yellow and orange, float lazily through the air and catch on my windshield. The brush is still verdant, and it covers the ground in a carpet of varying shades of green.
I slow as the road rises onto the edge of a limestone canyon. The view up here—myGod, it’s pretty. The Hill Country stretches for miles and miles to my right, an undulating landscape of gentle slopes and stretches of pasture. The Colorado River is a shimmering ribbon of blue that winds its way through ridges and valleys, its surface glinting beneath a wide-open sky.
Hitting the brake, I take a second. Take a deep lungful of fresh air that’s scented with the sweetness of falling leaves and woodsmoke.
The way it fills my chest and clears out my head makes me almost dizzy with delight. I’ve been exhausted all day, but suddenly I’m wide awake, the heaviness in my eyelids and legs disappearing without a trace.
I feel alive.
For the first time today, I feel like I might not die of boredom or frustration. This is the opposite of feeling suffocated. I’m free to do what I want, be who I want, with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face.
I need more of this.Is it ridiculous to allow myself to believe I need the outdoors to feel alive? Not everyone gets to spend their days working in the sunshine. It’s not always clear skies out here anyway.
But damn, I sure do feel a hell of a lot better than I did this morning back in the office.
I blame my buoyant mood for the thoughts that flicker through my head the way the sunlight flickers through the thinning trees.What would life be like on Lucky River Ranch?It’s just far enough from home to feel like a fresh start, but close enough to Mom and Dad and my brothers and our horses to visit whenever I wanted.
Aaaaannd I need to quit daydreaming while I’m ahead.That thought alone, the one about shacking up with Ryder on his family’s property, lets me know I need to pump the proverbial brakes here. Crushing on Ryder has been fun for the most part. I don’t think anyone takes it seriously.
