“My dogs are great and can also hold their own. It doesn’t mean I’d marry them.”
Max is looking tired of this conversation, and I don’t know how else to convey my feelings for Bliss to him.
I didn’t propose to her because she was the only single woman in town. I asked her to marry me because she’s safe. I trust her. She’s the person who picked me up at my lowest point and has never used it against me. She hasn’t mentioned my wedding day, or the fact that she’s the one who drove my catatonic self home. Or that she stayed and made me food that night. No one knows that it was Bliss who made me feel normal again.
Maybe even Bliss doesn’t realize that. She was the one who called me four days after my failed wedding and asked me to come help her and her dad catch a range bull. No one else had dared call or even text. No one knew how to be there for me.
Bliss showed up outside my door with a loaded horse trailer and a cup of black coffee.
The more I think about it, the surer I am that there’s no one else I’d rather marry.
Do I love Bliss? No, of course not. But the last time I thought I loved someone, she left me at the altar.
Alexa had come to town to house sit for her great-uncle. She was working remotely and able to stay in Pine Ridge. I met her at the bar and grill on honky-tonk night. She was friendly, warm, and we had fun flirting. One thing led to another, and we were getting married six months after dating. I thought I knew her.
But then she didn’t show up to our wedding, and rumor has it she was seen driving away from town with her ‘man-of-honor.’ So obviously, whatever Alexa felt for me wasn’t as strong as what she felt for her friend.
I knew from that day forward that I couldn’t trust my judgment when it came to love.
But who says you need love to get married?
CHAPTER 4
Bliss
Zane:You can have the pasture. Marry me?
Ah, and they say romance is dead. What a way to start a text thread. Normally, I never have to hide Zane’s texts or phone calls. They’re almost always work-related or very generic questions about barbecues and get-togethers.
This text doesn’t fall into either of those categories.
I quickly turn my phone face down so Mom doesn’t see it.
I’m sitting at the bar in my parents’ house, watching Mom mix up a batch of drop biscuits on the counter in front of me. If she saw a text from Zane, asking me to marry him, she’d create a Pinterest inspiration board and then book an appointment at a bridal gown boutique.
She can’twaitfor me to get married, and even worse, she especially loves Zane. She calls him “that sweet boy Zane.” Which is why I can’t let her see the text on my phone.
“Your sister called and said that Addison is starting ballet,” Mom says as she flings chunks of biscuit dough onto a pan. Little puffs of flour float into the air each time she tosses the dough down.
My older sister, Briar, lives in Texas with her husband and their four-year-old daughter. It’s one of Mom’s biggest life disappointments that her first grandchild lives so far away. She video calls them nearly every day, and Briar told me their house has been overtaken by every toy imaginable because Mom is always buying Addison gifts.
“Addison taking ballet classes will be so adorable. Briar didn’t tell me that when I talked to her yesterday.”
Mom sighs. “She sent me a video of her dancing around the living room in a tutu.”
“You should go visit her for her first recital.” I risk a glance at my phone, but it’s still face down. I haven’t felt the counter buzz, so Zane must have decided that one text was good enough.
Mom pauses her whirlwind of biscuit-making to think about it. “Not a bad idea. But she said it will be in June.” She ends this with a sad tone.
June, when we mark all our late spring calves. One of our busiest times of the year.
“Mom, she’s your first grandchild. You’ve worked a lot of calves in your life, and there will be plenty more … so if you want to go watch her recital, you should go!”
She smiles at me. “Sometimes, you have good ideas.”
“Sometimes?” I exclaim. “You meanallthe time.” My hand hovers over my phone as I wonder if I dare turn it over and text Zane back.
“Briar has been asking me to come see them …”
