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“Is she still pushing you to date Hendrick Patterson?”

She makes a face. “She was. She didn’t know that Hendrick is trying to win back his ex-wife.”

“Oh?”

“But his ex is dating his cousin. So then Big Head Bobby who’d overheard our conversation tells me I need to quit playing around and date him like I’ve supposedly always wanted.” She shakes her head.

“You have always wanted him,” I joke.

She rolls her eyes. “Not in this lifetime.” Then she yawns. “If I don’t get some sleep, I’ll zonk right here. I’m leaving early tomorrow but I’ll try not to wake you.”

I wave off her concerns. “I’m not a light sleeper.”

After I’m alone, I reread Maverick’s letter, then go to my aunt’s desk to find stationary. I sit and tap a pen against the paper for a few seconds trying to organize my thoughts before I begin.

Dear Maverick, Midnight Cowboy, Yours Truly,

A friend told me about your horse, Lady Grace, so I already knew that you were my pen pal when we were at the pool hall. I hadn’t wanted to hear it because I was afraid you’d push me away.

I also want to be honest. Though I’ve healed some, there are still plenty of places where hurt lingers.

And I worry that you might spend time and effort loving me only to end up disappointed because I’ll let you down when I react to something you say or do based on my prior hurts.

So, though a steady life and a man who can be counted on fills me with longing, what if I can’t give you what you need and you get hurt?

And for the record, yes, I already knew you were mouthy. But the back and forth between us didn’t always irritate me. Usually, it made me look forward to the next time I’d see you.

Yours truly too,

~Tempest/Sunflower

I finish the letter and slide it into an envelope. Then get in the car and drive it to Maverick’s house. I was just going to leave it on the front door like he did the one to me, but he’s sitting on the porch and stands when he sees my car.

I didn’t expect that and my heart flutters. “Mail delivery,” I joke as I walk toward him.

He looks at me like he’s never seen anything more beautiful as he jogs down the steps and over to me.

I thought he’d just take the letter, but he doesn’t.

He holds my gaze steady and softly asks, “How are you?”

“I’m…feeling a little breathless. Nervous.”

The sky rumbles and a few drops of rain hit the ground. He takes my hand, leading me onto the porch.

“Can I read this now or you do want me to wait until you’re gone?” he asks.

“You can read it now.” I take a seat on one of the wooden rocking chairs.

He sits in the one beside me.

I watch him as he reads. Under the glow of the porchlight, in those jeans and boots, his body honed by the land, he looks good. Rugged. All cowboy.

He finishes, folds the letter, and tucks it into his pocket. Then he comes to kneel in front of me, taking my hands in his.

“I know you’ve been hurt,” he says, his deep voice soft. “And the thought of it guts me.”

He gives my hands a gentle squeeze. “It doesn’t take me any effort to love you. I just do. And I’ll love you and be yours even if you’re never mine.”