Her email chimed. Probably Karen telling her that Day 2 at Reynolds Ranch was now live. A quick glance at her inbox said she was right. If Mia scrolled down a ways, she would see Karen’s unopened email announcing Day 1. She’d been right to ignore it. And she should do the same thing again. So why was it that the tip of her finger itched to click that link and watch?
Because she missed him.
She did. She missed Hunter so bad it hurt.
It wasn’t like they’d spent half a lifetime together. She and Hunter were just barely getting to know each other in truth, but the potential … the potential between them said they could happily spend the remainder of their lives together.
Mia shot to a stand as her eyes stung. She paced the apartment, back and forth.
Work. She had to think about work. She had to think about anything but the footage in the latest vlogs posted on her show. Karen—who was spending a few days in Denver to find a new apartment—had even called to talk about the reaction they were getting, but Mia hadn’t been up to it.
Not that she was better off for having stopped herself from viewing them. The image of his face was branded on her brain. And at least if she watched the episodes, she’d be able to see the way he smiled at her. Rested his hand on her back. Laughed at her silly jokes.
At last, Mia grabbed her laptop, walked over to the tall windows, and slid to the ground, the squeaking of tightly pressed fabric on glass echoing off the walls. She clicked on her email, scrolled beyond the long list of unopened comment notifications, and then clicked on the link for Day 1.
Mia had played the game as a child, where she’d try to remove organs from a cartoon patient with a set of tweezers. Each time an error was made, the buzzer would sound. A red alarm would flash. And her turn was up.
Seeing Hunter’s face on that screen, hearing the sound of his voice—all of it triggered Mia’s physical alarm. Someone was tearing out parts of her heart. And in this game, she wouldn’t get a second chance.
She hadn’t remembered every word that passed between them, and a few of the lines caused her to laugh out loud as she watched.
As Day 2s clip began to play, Mia let the tears have their way. Perhaps if she gave in to it now, the emotion would work its way out. Perhaps once it was through, she’d find the drive to try again. Perhaps one day she’d believe that someone could love her the way she was.
She’d been so caught up in her loss that Mia hadn’t even thought to scroll down to the comments. Her eyes had merely started to drift once the segment was through, just enough to see Hunter’s name.
Mia reached out and shut the laptop as fast as she could, unwilling to read any more. Yet her mind still registered the words surrounding his name, a few standing out above the rest. Marry me, Hunter! I’m in love!
She left the laptop on the floor, not minding the idea of it getting stepped on or dented or even kicked clear across the room. Sleep was the only thing that could save her now. The non-reality land of dreams.
The lights in her apartment made a slight pop as she shut them off. The rain sounded louder then, the pitter-pat accompanying her as she shuffled down the hall, into her room, and onto her bed. The single window in the room had blinds and curtains thick enough to block out sunlight stronger than that side of the building ever saw. Strong enough to block out sunlight as bright as Montana’s. Sadly, that’s just what she needed to do.
Chapter 18
“Can you believe what these boneheads are saying about Mia?” Hunter glared at the screen, shaking his head as he scrolled through the comments on Mia’s latest vlog. The one where the ladies had gone shopping with the ranch hands.
“I don’t know,” Skinny Alex mumbled. “I’ve probably left a comment or two like that over time. Just guys being guys.”
Hunter spun around to fix his glare on Alex. “Guys being guys? Making comments about wishing they’d have filmed from the dressing room. Making crass remarks about helping her adjust the belt on her jeans. Someone’s asking for a real butt-kicking.”
“By who?” Alex said with a laugh. The kid took a seat next to him and propped his feet on the empty chair at the edge of the table. “You’re just not used to it yet. Guys slobbering all over the girl you like.”
“What do you think it was like with Vanessa until I got over her?” With his response, Hunter had accidentally admitted that he liked Mia. Not that it mattered; he could no sooner deny that he liked her than he could the color of his own eyes. It was plain to see he was crazy about the woman. “I can’t read them anymore.” He stood and strode over to the sink, wishing a glass of water could snuff out the fire in his chest.
“You don’t seem to be too upset about all the comments mentioning you,” Alex said. “Not to mention the ones ladies left for me and the other guys. I plan to take full advantage. Get me an internet stalker out of this.”
Hunter barely heard a word of it. Was too busy recalling all the junk he’d read on her other posts. He’d spent the last few nights watching every video Try My Life had posted. Torturing himself with them was more like it.
“You should have seen some of the crap they’ve said on her other posts. A few of them post every time, too. Like some turd-face named HeartSnatcher. He leaves the same comment on every one of her videos: Hey Mia, let’s hook up.” He shook his head in irritation. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. The out-of-his-control exposure of the woman he loved. It was a good thing he and Mia had ended things. Who needed a lifetime of this?
“Knock, knock,” came a loud voice from the back door. Wayne.
“Come on in, Wayne,” Hunter hollered before tipping back his glass.
“Howdy, howdy,” Wayne boomed. “I come bearing a whole lot of gifts for the ranch hands of Reynolds Ranch. Some for you, Alex. A few for Connor and Bill.” He slapped three hefty stacks on the table next to Alex. “And a whole lot for Mr. Hunter here. Some call you Hunter. Some Dusty. Let’s see, who did one gal address it to?” The man thumbed through the stack in his hands until he plucked one out of the bunch. “Ah! Here it is. To Hunter, aka my future bo-hunk husband.”
Connor and Bill came into the kitchen next, chuckling under their breath. “A couple of them ladies want to hook up with me, too, you know?” Bill assured.
Wayne spun around. “Yeah, yeah. You boys each have a stack of your own right over there. Discovered these in my post office box downtown, which means they don’t know our exact address, in case you’re worried about getting hunted down by some crazy lady.”
The guys started tearing into their letters, faces lit up like Christmas. “You guys can have mine too,” Hunter grumbled, moving past Wayne and into the front room.
“Where you going?” Wayne asked.
That was a good question. “I’m not sure.” Hunter tugged open the front door and stepped into the fresh morning air, squinting from the brightness of the sun. It was Sunday, and he hadn’t planned on going out to the field today. Sure, he had a few chores in the barn he could attend to, but nothing that would take up much of his day. Or distract him from the nagging voices in his head. The voices that told him he never should have let Mia go.
He wasn’t exactly sure how such regret had crept up on him. It had been sneaky. He’d thrown ropes over calves’ necks at lightning speed, and before they knew it, the small animals were stopped in their tracks. This had taken a similar approach. One moment he’d been sure of his decision, moving on without a doubt, and then suddenly, late one night, he’d awoken with such a strangling regret that it’d nearly paralyzed him.
Hunter roared up the truck, backed out of the drive, and headed down the dirt road. He recalled his reaction to the sudden ache. How he wanted to see her. Hear her. Be close to her. He’d been forced to settle for the first two by catching up on Mia’s old videos, hours’ worth of footage, complete with snarky statements, witty remarks, and a fair amount of flirting on Mia’s end, too. Each episode made him miss her more, and—if he was being honest—fall deeper and deepe
r in love with the woman.
Love. The word was ridiculous. How could he even consider using it where Mia was concerned?
She was everything he wanted, that’s how.
He was drawn to her optimism, something Hunter had lost his grip on years ago. Mia had a zest for living. A contagious one. Reaching out to experience life from all angles, never acting superior or snobbish. But genuinely interested and intrigued.
His agony multiplied with each trait he considered. He thought of her persistence to succeed. To show people just what she was capable of. And it wasn’t at the expense of others, like Vanessa’s seemed to be.
Or maybe it was …
Mia left, after all.
Hunter turned the wheel at random, going left here, right there. Straight. Straight. Straight. And before he knew it, he’d wound up at a familiar place. A place he hadn’t been to in a while. Several cars were parked out front, letting him know there was most likely a service in session. He glanced down at his button-up shirt and jeans. Good enough. Heck, it was church—shouldn’t matter much how he was dressed.
Before he could linger in second thoughts, Hunter climbed out of the truck and headed on up the steps. Music sounded from the double doors, each propped slightly open by a brick on either side. He gripped the metal handle on the right, peeled it back, and pulled in a deep breath. Feeling—for the first time in days—a release from the burden in his heart.
Chapter 19
“Hey there, doll face!” Gramps’s voice boomed from the small receiver.
“Hi!” Mia hadn’t been in the mood to talk, but the sound of Gramps’s voice made her glad she answered. “How are you doing?”
“Fine, fine. How about yourself? Did you find a replacement for Karen yet?”
She liked how much Gramps cared about this part of her life. “I’ve got a few interviews coming up this week.” She wiggled deeper into the love seat, eyeing the dark night beyond her massive windows. “A couple of them want to help with promoting, scouting future jobs and sponsors. I’m interested in those most.”
“Well, that sounds wonderful,” Gramps said.
The line went quiet for a bit, emphasizing how lonely the apartment was without Karen. Her friend hadn’t officially moved out yet, but she would soon. And already she was rarely there.
“How are all the guys doing?” she asked, hoping the broad question would lead where she wanted it to. “Are they enjoying their newfound fame?”
“I’ll say,” Gramps said. “Alex and Bill are eating it up with spoons fit for royalty. Connor too. Writing the ladies online. Hoping to meet one or two of them in person. Hunter isn’t as excited as the others.”
Mia sat up straighter. “He isn’t?”
“Naw. He didn’t even open his letters, and he had more than all of them put together. Said the others could read them if they wanted. If not, they could go in the trash for all he cared.”
“Hmm.” Mia couldn’t contain the smile that spread over her lips. Hunter wasn’t interested in the hundreds of women throwing themselves at him. She could hardly believe it. “How is he doing?” Her heart pounded out of rhythm as she waited for the answer. Nervous heat crept up her neck.
“He’s ornerier than a bull in a bucking chute these days.”
Suddenly too restless to sit, Mia walked over to the window, looking mindlessly over the city lights. “He is?”
“Yep. He can be a grumpy cuss, that one. ’Course when you were here he wasn’t so bad. In fact, I’d have to say that—around you—he was the happiest I’ve seen him.”
Happiest? The word did something to her insides. Caused them to stir with warm and tingly hope. “Gramps?”
“Yeah?”
She pressed the tip of her finger to the window, traced a large circle before her. “I was really happy too. I loved spending time with him.”
A moment passed before his response came. “Does Hunter know that?”
Tears formed in Mia’s eyes. “I’m pretty sure he does. But when I told him I was leaving … which was right after I told him I was staying …” She shook her head. It was all a big mess.
“He got upset and told you not to come back at all?” Gramps said.
Mia sniffed. “Did he tell you?”
“No, but he didn’t have to. I’ve been around long enough to know how this works. ’Bout a year after your grandma died, I had a gal coming around here. Was a real sweetheart, too. Bringing my suppers, offering to tidy up my flower bed up front. I’ve never been one to enjoy gardening the way your grandma did.
“Anyhow, I got the impression she was interested in, you know, pursuing a relationship. But me, I just wasn’t ready. It wasn’t that I didn’t like her—I did. But I was too afraid of losing somebody again. Wasn’t sure if my old heart could take it. In the end, I pushed her away.”
Mia nodded, knowing that Hunter had been hurt before too. But what did all that mean now that she was miles away and missing him like crazy?
“Is the lady you mentioned …”
“Miranda.”
“Is Miranda still single?” Mia asked.
“Nope,” he answered. “She married Phil Madden. The two moved up north when he sold his property. Can’t say I don’t regret turning her away, but in some ways the timing just isn’t right, you know? Not that it’s anyone’s fault.”
Mia nodded. “Yeah.” But she couldn’t help but wonder if she was at fault here. What would Gramps say if he understood the way she’d put Hunter on the back burner her entire last day there? With the promise of staying an extra week, no less. He’d probably encourage her to at least reach out and apologize.
Or what about the way Hunter had seen Mia’s luggage before she’d even told him she was leaving? Here, he’d shown up at the house, ready to start off a week of dating, essentially, and Mia had brushed him off to go take care of her vlog.
Maybe it was pride or embarrassment, but Mia couldn’t bring herself to mention those things to Gramps.
“I think all you can do now, sweetheart, is move forward with an open mind and an open heart. Don’t shut out possibilities that come your way, whether they be with Hunter or somebody else.”
Mia nodded, nearly knowing that—without an apology or further explanation—Hunter wouldn’t want her back. But that was just it. Hunter hadn’t let her give him either of those things.
So was it official, then—was Mia saying goodbye to Hunter once and for all? Tears spilled down her cheeks, the mere thought like a fire-torched javelin through her chest. No. She wouldn’t let go of her hopes for a future with Hunter. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But there was one thing she could do.
Mia wiped the tears from her face and placed her finger back on the window. Through the moisture blurring her vision, she scrawled along the cool, sleek glass, letting the giant circle start off a word. Big, cursive letters. O. P. E. N.
Just as Gramps suggested, she would be open to chances that came to her. In reality, she was still hoping for the one who’d—at least for a time—slipped away. Please say it’s not too late to make things work.
Chapter 20
A tangy aroma wafted through the kitchen as Hunter rinsed a head of lettuce beneath the faucet. Making dinner had been more work than he’d imagined. He only hoped it would pay off.
Thank heavens Wayne had agreed to come over tonight. If he’d have known what Hunter had in store, he may have likely said no. The idea caused a ripple of nerves to spread over his skin. Hopefully he wouldn’t be angry at him for not being up-front. But it was possible the man could thank him one day, if things worked out the way he hoped.
A small rap at the door told Hunter his first guest had arrived. He dried his hands on a dishtowel, stirred the bubbling spaghetti sauce while turning the heat down, and then hurried to the front door.
“Hey there, Ms. Madden. Come on in. Glad you could make it.”
The sweet old lady grinned at him. “Please,” she said, “call me Miranda.” She rested her bag on the side table, s
traightened the gold chain necklace she wore, and then fiddled with her matching earrings a bit. A vision of his own grandmother came to mind as Hunter caught hints of the woman’s perfume.
“I’m a little nervous,” she whispered. “Is he here yet?”
Hunter shook his head. “Not yet. And there’s nothing to be nervous about. Come on in.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked, following him into the kitchen.
“I don’t think so. How about you have a seat while we wait for Wayne?”
She nodded. “That’s fine. Sure smells good in here. Did you make that sauce yourself?”
“If heating it up in a pot means making it, then yes,” he said with a laugh.
She chuckled too. “Oh, I do so miss having a man around.”
“I can imagine.” Hunter grabbed a cutting board and worked on the salad while Miranda told him a bit more about the loss of her second husband. Of how she’d ended up back in town. And of the nice little house she rented just a few miles away.
“I’ve been hoping to run into Wayne at service,” she explained. “Who knew I’d run into a young man who worked for him instead?”
“Yeah.” Hunter grinned. “One who was determined to set the two of you up for a romantic dinner,” he added.
“Romantic?” She sounded surprised.
Hunter brought a finger to his lips. “I’m going to sneak on out of here once he comes. Let you two get reacquainted.” Hunter had to admit that he’d felt a whole lot better since putting this idea into motion. Focusing on the potential between the kind woman he met at church and the man who’d become like a grandfather to him—it had done his heart some good.
He tugged open the fridge, ducked down to reach for the salad dressing, and straightened up as he heard Wayne’s standard greeting from the back door.
“Knock, knock.”
Hunter gulped, turned to smile at Miranda, and hollered out a reply. “Come on in.”
Once Hitched Twice Shy Page 13
