by KB Winters
Some fuckin’ bad as I am.
I warmed up the casserole she’d made, picked at it and washed my dishes, before retiring to the room I’d been using since arriving in town. My thoughts were too jumbled to go through my notes again, so I fired up my laptop with the intention of finding something online to watch. I wasn’t much of a TV watcher, but I needed mind numbing entertainment to carry me through until I finally relaxed enough to sleep.
What I didn’t expect was an email waiting for me.
An email from Everlie.
I miss you.
My heart ramped into a frenzy at the shock of her bold statement, and the plain fact that she’d even bothered to try talking to me again.
I agonized over what to reply, and was editing—for the third time—when a flash popped up on the sidebar of the email website. Everlie had been added to my favorites and her name was flashing. She’d just logged in online. I abandoned the hopeless, rambling email and clicked over to her profile and sent an instant message:
Hello. Can you video chat? I really want to talk to you.
Sure.
I sucked in a deep, anchoring breath and raked a hand over my hair that had grown out quite a bit since the day I’d left the military. Getting a haircut every other week was less of a priority when I spent most days wandering around the ranch and the only companion I had most days was a shaggy dog.
Everlie’s call came through seconds later, and I clicked accept with an urgent slam on my track pad mouse. The call connected and her screen was blank.
“Everlie?” I asked, testing the connection.
“I’m here. Hold on…” The screen changed and her video flickered on. Her beautiful face filled the screen of my computer and I couldn’t stop myself from beaming at her, my heart feeling lighter than it had when she’d walked into the hotel bar the night before I flew back to Oklahoma.
“Hello,” I said, unable to drop my giddy smile. I had no idea what she was going to say, or what would happen next, but seeing her again filled me with the rush of possibilities and hope.
“I got your flowers…” she said, her tone unsure. Her blue eyes darted back and forth and I couldn’t tell if she was looking at something else on her screen, or if she just couldn’t bring herself to meet my eyes. I was dying for her to look right at me, to try and see if there was something there, that familiar spark and connection.
I nodded and added, “I got your email.”
“Oh, gosh…” She rolled her eyes at herself. “I don’t even…I just…”
“Ev,” I said, interrupting her stammering. “It’s okay. I’m not reading too much into it, okay? I know I fucked up. It’s not on you to try and make things right here, okay?”
She sucked in her lower lip and I shifted in my seat, my body responding to her just as it would if she were inches—instead of a thousand miles—away. “Ryker…I really do, though. I miss you.”
“I miss you too. God, Ev, you have no idea.” Chills ran down my arms and I ached, wishing she were on the bed beside me. “Listen to me,” I swallowed hard, the pain and sadness from my morning was still too close to the surface and I felt my resolve fragmenting under her soft, teary gaze. “I’m so sorry. So, unbelievable sorry. I was a total asshat to you that night, and you have every right and reason to never talk to me again. But, you’re here, so I have to hope that maybe I have a chance? What would it be? My third? Fourth?” I shook my head at myself, the attempt at light humor backfired as my words stabbed at me.
“Ryker, I just have one question,” Everlie said, pulling my attention away from my own darkness and back to her sweet face.
“Anything.”
She sighed and I could tell from her expression whatever she was about to ask was going to change everything. “Did you mean it? The words in the letter? I get that it wasn’t meant for me to find, but since I did, I have to know. Was it true?”
I clenched my jaw to keep control of the tears that pricked in my eyes. I wanted to speak, to properly answer her question, but I couldn’t open my mouth. If I did, the whole ugly mess was going to come out.
“Ryker,” Everlie whispered. “Please, just tell me…”
The look of pain on her face released my own stopped up tears, and I felt one start down my cheek. I nodded and croaked out, “Yes, Ev. Every word was true. I’m in love with you.”
Everlie started to cry and pain tore through me. I hadn’t expected her to say it back, but her reaction appeared somewhat the opposite of what I’d imagined. Instead of looking relieved or happy, she looked devastated.
“Everlie? What’s the matter?” I asked, leaning closer to the computer screen, wishing I could somehow transfer myself through the machine to be at her side.
“I—” she paused, sucking in a deep breath to slow the cascade of tears. She wiped furiously at her cheeks that had turned a deep pink with her distress. “I can’t say it to you, Ryker. I just…I want to…or at least, I think so. But…”
“Shhh, shh, it’s okay, Ev. Please don’t cry, it’s okay. I don’t need you to say anything.” Her blue eyes flicked up to the camera and met with mine for the first time since we started the chat. “Come to Oklahoma, Ev. Please. You have time now, and we can get away from the craziness and start over.”
She stared at me and I opened my mouth to repeat the offer, wondering if she hadn’t heard me, or if the audio had glitched out. “I need to think about it, Ryker,” she answered.
“Okay,” I replied, nodding even as my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. “That’s perfectly fine. Just take some time, think it over.”
She jerked to look over her shoulder and for the first time, I realized from the background of the video, she was sitting in the living room of her apartment. “I have to go,” she said, looking back at me. “I’ll call again tomorrow. Okay?”
I nodded, and only when the video cut off, did I find the strength to say, “I love you.”
Chapter Three
Everlie
“We’re beginning our descent into Oklahoma City. Please remain seated until the seatbelt light is turned off…”
I tuned out the rest of the drawling speech from the flight attendant as reality hit me in the face. I was twenty minutes away from landing in Oklahoma. Ryker would be waiting for me to get off the plane. Probably with a giant bouquet of flowers and his heart-stopping smile.
I wasn’t ready.
My nerves were firing in rapid succession and my heart raced in time with the tapping of my feet on the floor.
“Don’t worry, dearie, landing is the easy part,” the elderly woman in the seat next to mine assured me, patting the back of my hand. She’d been extremely chatty the entire flight and rather than unpack the truth of why I was flying to Oklahoma, I’d told her I was anxious about flying.
I nodded at her. “Thank you. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
I hoped.
I’d had three days to prepare for the trip after finally agreeing to go. Ryker had booked the tickets as soon as I gave him my answer—probably to keep me from backing out—and the three days had been a flurry of packing and obsessing over what to bring to the ranch. And, of course, trying to explain to Tori everything that had happened. I’d finally come clean with her that I’d been seeing Ryker, somewhat behind her back, and that we were trying to really make things work. She’d been skeptical, and a little pissed off that I’d kept it a secret from her, but in the end, she couldn’t stay mad at me for long, and gave me her blessing.
The preparation had been a blur, and right up until getting on the plane, I’d been calm and put together. However, the instant take off had started, I’d gone to pieces. It was like I’d stored up all the anxiety and once it got loose—it wasted no time in shredding my calm facade. Things with Ryker had been good—better than good—in the past week, since the initial phone call. He’d called or texted every day, and each night, we would video chat. He talked about the ranch a lot, telling me about his activities and dreaming out loud
for his plans of improvements and vision. I talked about the final days of teaching my class, and he’d been so supportive, each day sending me gifts to let me know he was thinking of me. On my final day, he’d sent gourmet snacks and bottles of sparkling grape juice for me to share with my students in a celebration party, rather than a sad, goodbye party. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me, and had made those final days a lot easier to handle.
I rested my head against the seat and took a long, slow breath.
“That’s right, dearie. Keep breathing,” my neighbor encouraged. I held back the urge to roll my eyes. She was sweet and well meaning, but her constant commentary was starting to wear thin.
My thoughts drifted back to Ryker as the plane dropped, circling the airport below. Our conversations had been deep and rich, full of meaning and sentiment as we both made emotional transitions in life. Him, back to the ranch, and me out of teaching and ready to start my career as a professional ballerina. We’d leaned on each other, mused together, dreamed together. I honestly didn’t know what I would’ve done without his support and virtual presence throughout the last week.
The only thing still bothering me was the fact that we’d been in this place, or at least, close to this place, in the past and for some reason or another, it had always been spoiled by some kind of surprise. I wanted to relax and give myself fully over to my feelings for Ryker. He’d told me he loved me, and I knew I was falling for him too, but there was a nagging doubt in the back of my mind that always swooped in before I let myself get carried away in the whirlwind of our relationship. And I hated that. I couldn’t stand the way I put up walls and guards. I carefully sidestepped certain topics and ignored other statements altogether to avoid getting into a more serious conversation with him about our future.
Which was extremely hard to do since we were both going through so many other life changes.
As it was, we were leaving space for our relationship, but in the background, behind the shy glances, and awkward conversations, there was the unspoken truth.
There wasn’t any room for an us in our futures. My path was going in one direction, and Ryker’s was going in another. As wonderful as things were, it didn’t change the simple fact that our paths weren’t going to cross again unless we forced them together.
And I wasn’t convinced that this was going to work. Not for the long haul, anyway.
The plane tires hit the ground with a thud, and I yelped at the jarring contact. I’d been so lost in thought that I hadn’t been paying attention to how close we were to the ground, or that the flight attendants had buckled themselves into their seats.
“There, there,” the lady next to me grabbed for my hand again. This time, I couldn’t hold back the eye roll and she released me with an offended scowl on her creased face.
After the scuffle and crush to get off the plane, I ducked into the first restroom I came across, and took a few minutes to pull myself back together again. I ran some smoothing oil over my hair that had been left frizzy from the airplane air and being crushed against the back of the seat for four plus hours. I dabbed on a fresh coat of pink lip gloss, rubbed away the smudge lines from my mascara under my eyes and pinched some color back into my cheeks.
“That’s as good as it’s gonna get,” I said, sighing loudly at the reflection staring back at me.
My knees started turning to jelly as I got closer to the exit. My stomach swirled and twisted when I spotted a group of people waiting at the end of the corridor, waiting for their family and friends with flowers, signs, and big, expectant smiles. The people in front of me were pulled away by a group of rowdy friends, and I was distracted by the commotion for a minute. When I tore my eyes off the happy embraces and squealed sounds of delight and welcome, my eyes locked on a pair of dark, brown eyes.
“Ryker,” I breathed.
He strode forward, sidestepping the chaos off to one side, and swept me into his arms. He spun me around like something from a romantic movie, and before I could say a word, had his mouth on mine. Our kiss was passionate and hot. It was a searing kiss of hello and I missed you, but there was an edge of sadness and I miss you. The rest of the airport faded to black around me. In Ryker’s arms, nothing else mattered.
I was home.
When Ryker finally released me and set me back on my own feet, I looked up into his eyes, startled by the surge of emotions firing throughout my body. Home. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d felt truly, at home. My life with my mother and her husband in Kentucky hadn’t felt like home to me. My life in Vegas had become familiar and routine over the years, but in my heart of hearts, I knew it wasn’t home, either.
And yet, standing there, wrapped in Ryker’s strong arms, my hands on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart through his long sleeve shirt, I was home.
Ryker stared at me for a moment. There were so many things I wanted to say. The anxiety over what it would be like to see him again had melted away the moment our eyes found each other through the sea of other passengers. Before I could find my words, he released one of his arms from around me, pulled me to his side, and started to lead me in the direction of the baggage claim area. “Let’s get outta here,” he drawled, flashing a lazy grin that made his eyes dance and spark with hungry lust and desire.
My mind went blank, and my body took over, a slow burn igniting in my stomach.
“How was the flight?” Ryker asked, once we got into his truck. I hadn’t checked any luggage, so it had been an easy walk to the parking garage. He opened the door for me, put my small carry-on bag behind the seat and ushered me inside. Luckily, I was tall enough to make getting into the jacked up cab fairly easy.
“Good,” I lied. We’d been open and honest with each other, but I didn’t think telling him about my anxiety riddled flight would help things. “Long. I just want a hot shower to get all this airplane air off of me.”
“That,” he said, flashing me a naughty grin, “I can help with.”
I laughed even as a flutter rippled through me. I’d shared Ryker’s bed on several occasions, and wasn’t under any illusion that we wouldn’t be sleeping together during my visit to the ranch. However, the idea of sleeping with him carried more weight now that he’d confessed his true feelings. Before, it had been passion fueled, spur of the moment, crazy hunger that had brought us together. It was purely physical. Now, with feelings and emotions on the line, it somehow made me hesitant and shy all over again.
We drove for a couple of hours, chatting about the ranch. Ryker had only just started moving in his personal belongings as the previous tenants had moved out days before my flight. I told him about the conversation I’d had with Tori about our relationship, expecting him to be relieved, but he changed the topic quickly to tell me about his new dog. The conversation had lulled to a comfortable silence when we finally turned off the main road, onto a rough, dirt driveway. I stared out the window, studying the scenery. It was breathtaking to be so secluded, not another house around for what looked like miles and miles. There was nothing but trees, fields of tall grasses, wooden fence posts, and then the hills and slopes off in the distance. We drove under a tall arch way made of rough looking timber, an iron sign with a swirled symbol hanging down from the center.
“That’s the Knight brand. It’s sorta like a family crest. Back in the day, all the livestock on this ranch would have had that symbol branded on them,” Ryker explained. “Of course, now, there isn’t any livestock.”
“But there will be?”
He nodded. “Eventually. I have a lot of maintenance to do before it’s ready for that step. But yeah.”
I chewed on the corner of my lip, considering his answer. We’d talked about the ranch so much, and yet, I’d never come out right and asked how long he was planning to stay there. Was it a project for him? Would he fix it up, get everything running smoothly and then turn it over to a management system of some kind? Was there such a thing? Or, was this his new life? The place he w
ould stay for the rest of his life? Raising cattle and a family out in the sticks?
I glanced over at his profile and packed the questions away for later. There was no point in getting into a serious conversation like that on our very first day together. My visit would be a total of seven days and six nights. We had plenty of time for all of my questions later.
“Here we are,” Ryker announced with a broad smile. I followed his gaze out the front windshield to the sprawling house. It was built like a log cabin, with a huge porch that looked like it wrapped all the way around. There were window boxes under each window, green shutters that matched the downspouts, and two Adirondack chairs set out on the front lawn. It was much larger than I’d imagined, certainly larger than anywhere I’d ever lived before. “Well? What do you think?”
“It’s gorgeous,” I answered, matching Ryker’s smile. “I couldn’t imagine a more perfect place.”
He reached over and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. His mouth quirked like he had something to say, but after a beat, he slid away, threw open his door, and raced around to let me out of the passenger side, leaving me wondering what he’d been thinking.
Chapter Four
Everlie
After my thorough tour of the house—that was even more stunning on the inside than the outside—Ryker took me out to the abandoned stables and barns on the property. They were rougher than the house itself, thanks to years of little to no maintenance, and as Ryker talked about all the work that was left to do, I started getting the whole picture of what he wanted for the ranch. The house needed some minor things, new paint on the walls, the floors were made of a hundred-year-old wood and were in desperate need of a refinishing job, the kitchen was outdated and needed all new appliances, new countertops, and the bathrooms all could use a little TLC as well, but nothing outlandish or extensive.
“Are you hungry? Or, did they feed you on the flight?” Ryker asked as he led the way back up to the house. He had his arm wrapped around me, one hand tucked casually into the back pocket of my jeans. He hadn’t let go of me since we crashed together at the airport gate. It was like he thought if that connection was broken, I’d vanish or something.
