by Liz Isaacson
“Deal.” He drove a few more blocks before hitting weekend traffic, which would soon worsen as they flocked to town for the summer season. “So, where’s Dylan this wonderful Friday night?”
Hazel looked out the window, her voice a little too casual when she said, “Busy with his family.”
Jason didn’t notice or didn’t press the issue, and Hazel managed to enjoy herself with her friend, only a few fleeting thoughts about Dylan puncturing her evening. And she decided when Jason dropped her off and she went inside to her two English bulldogs that she liked getting out of the house, sure. But going out with Dylan was definitely more magical.
She missed him more than she wanted to admit, but she forced herself not to text him. He was with his family. She could wait. Couldn’t she?
Chapter Twenty-One
Dylan lost track of which day it was. After visiting his mother in San Antonio for the weekend, he worked the ranch, met with Kurt and Dwayne, trained his dog to go to the bathroom outside, sleep on his feet and not his face, and walk on a leash. Titan was a champion, and he looked to Dylan for everything.
He had to go through old paperwork from the sale of the ranch, print out documents from his bank, and countless other little tasks that weighed on him. Shane was going through the same thing, but he seemed better equipped to deal with a thousand and one tasks than Dylan did.
He realized that his older brother had been managing such things for fifteen years, and he appreciated Shane even more.
Dylan ached to see Hazel, inhale that frosted peach pie scent of her skin and kiss her lips. But he had to settle for quick phone calls and lengthy texts while Austin snored in the bed beside him.
She didn’t seem too put out by their lack of contact, which was good, because things only got worse the next week. Paperwork to be signed, and boxes to be packed, and new contracts to be negotiated.
Everything happened quickly, and May disappeared into June. His dog grew bigger. And before Dylan knew it, he was loading everything he owned into the back of a moving truck. He focused on the work, trying to ignore the summer heat that had descended on Hill Country.
Shane passed him as he exited the house. “Hazel’s here.”
Dylan’s step stuttered in time with his pulse. He set the two boxes he was carrying on the railing and flew down the steps, searching for her. Her red truck sat down the road a bit, more in front of Kurt’s than his cabin, which made sense given the moving truck taking up the rest of the lane.
She came around the large vehicle, and Dylan froze. Her hair was half as long as it had been the last time he’d seen her. It framed her face now, the curls barely brushing her shoulders. Not only that, but she’d put light streaks in it, making it more blonde than brown now. She wore a pair of jean shorts that went halfway down her thigh, running shoes, and a cherry-red sleeveless shirt that revealed the muscles in her arms.
She wore a smile too, and tucked her hands in her back pockets as she turned her walk into more of a sashay.
“Hey, stranger,” she drawled, that sassy, flirty grin on her perfect face.
“Hazel,” he breathed, wondering how his lungs had managed to keep functioning for the past few weeks without seeing her each and every day. He closed the distance between them and swept her into his arms, that sweet, fruity smell hitting him full in the chest.
Around him, men called to each other. His brothers continued to load boxes. A dog barked—not Titan. But Dylan held onto the feel of Hazel in his arms, the scent of her skin, the sound of her soft laughter.
“Moving day,” she said, backing up, an edge in her eyes Dylan hadn’t seen in a while. Wariness, like what she’d worn in her expression the first time she’d teased him about his dancing and whistling on the front porch next door.
“And I had to find out from Austin.” Hazel toed the ground, her eyes suddenly magneted to the grass there.
“I told you,” Dylan said. Hadn’t he?
She shook her head, her playfulness gone. The wariness had morphed into disappointment and sadness, and it punched the air right out of his lungs. “You didn’t.”
Frustration welled within him, and he raked his hands down his face, slightly unseating his cowboy hat. “I meant to, obviously.” He repositioned his hat, his throat suddenly dry and scratchy. “I’m sorry.”
“Dylan,” Shane called, and he turned back toward the cabin. His brother waved to him to join him on the porch, one hand holding the phone to his ear. He didn’t look happy, and he turned away as he spoke. Dylan wasn’t aware of a call he needed to be involved with, but Shane clearly needed him.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” she said. “You go. I’m gonna—I’m just gonna, you know, I’m gonna go too.” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder and backed up a few steps. “Call me, you know, if you have time.”
Hazel turned and walked away, and Dylan watched her go, frozen and numb as he tried to figure out what she’d just said. “Are you breaking up with me?” he called after her.
She turned around without breaking her stride. “Yes,” she called back.
Even though she’d put two dozen feet of distance between them, Dylan still saw the way her chin trembled and how she clutched her fingers together to prevent them from shaking. He wasn’t close enough to see her tears, but she swept one hand across her cheek before spinning around and striding toward her truck, clearly anxious to get away from the ranch as fast as possible.
No, not the ranch. Him. Hazel wanted to get away from him as fast as possible.
“Dylan,” Shane called again, and Dylan spun away from the red truck before he could see it tear down the dirt road.
“What?” he snapped as he climbed the steps. Shane looked as angry as Dylan felt, and he shoved the phone at him.
“It’s Dad. I need you to deal with this right now.”
Dylan took the phone, his anger fading to that horrible numbness again. He didn’t want to deal with his father either. Not right now. Not today.
“Dad?” he said, putting the phone up to his ear.
“I’m here.”
“Now’s not a good time.” Dylan hung up without giving his father a chance to say anything else. He started scrolling through the phone as desperation coiled and built inside him. Why couldn’t he find Hazel’s number?
His mind wasn’t working, and he glanced up at Shane when he came back onto the porch.
“What did you tell him?” He plucked the phone from Dylan’s fingers, and it was in that moment that Dylan realized he wasn’t holding his own device. No wonder he couldn’t find Hazel’s number.
“What’s wrong?” Shane pocketed the phone and peered more closely at Dylan.
His throat felt raw, and the sun was so blasted hot. He swiped off his cowboy hat and wiped his forehead.
“What did Dad say to you?”
Dylan shook his head, everything inside him tight, tight, tight. “Not Dad.” He swallowed, trying to make sense of things. “Hazel broke up with me.”
Shock passed across Shane’s face. “She did? Just now?”
Dylan nodded, his eyes hot.
“Well, call her,” Shane said, looking past Dylan. “We’re fine here. Go get her.”
Dylan turned and saw the dust settling from where her truck had kicked it up into the air. “I can’t go get her.” He ducked his head, his feeling hardening. “We’re moving today.”
“Dylan.”
“I’m fine, Shane.” He spun away and went back into the cabin, but he couldn’t make his eyes settle on the next thing that needed to be carried out.
A week later, Dylan was seriously wondering if he and his brothers had lost their minds. There was so much work to do around the ranch, they’d all been working sixteen-hour days and barely a dent had been made. At least the endless work didn’t allow him to obsess over Hazel.
She was there in his mind anyway. All the time. When something happened, he wanted to text her and tell her. When he’d moved in, he
’d wanted to show her where he was living now. When he’d finally talked to his father and found out he’d been trying to get their mailing address so he could send a ranchwarming gift, he wanted to call Hazel and rant to her about him.
He hadn’t texted her once. Nor had he called. She’d said to call him when he had time, and honestly, he didn’t have time.
Was he selfish for wanting it all? The ranch, the German shepherd, and the woman? Other men seemed to be able to make things work. Why couldn’t he?
He pushed the thoughts out of his mind and set another nail in the gate he was fixing on a horse stall. Shane and Robin’s relationship wasn’t brand new. They’d been through rough weather before, and she’d been by Shane’s side all week, her trailer now parked down on the end of Cabin Row, as Austin had dubbed the lane of cabins. She wouldn’t be able to stay there forever, as Dylan had plans to add at least four more cabins to the line. But for now, she was fine. She’d be moving into the homestead with Shane once they were married anyway.
For now, all three brothers were all living in the homestead, with Shane in the master bedroom down the hall from the kitchen, on the main level. Austin and Dylan were upstairs, almost above the garage, but Dylan hated it. The room was too quiet without Austin, and that hadn’t helped his light sleeping habits.
He’d spent the last seven days doing carpentry. Fixing animal pens in the stables for the horses they didn’t have, as he was right now. Well, Shane had brought one horse with him from Grape Seed Ranch.
A ranch with one horse. What a joke.
He’d fixed up the cabins first, because Dean and Chadwell were moving in later that day. Shane had a few more cowboys coming for interviews in the next week, and they needed the room and board to be inviting, because they sure couldn’t afford to pay the men much.
Finished with the stable for now, Dylan packed up his tools, said, “’C’mon, Titan,” and returned to the small shed beside the barn with his dog at his side. The building held a riding lawn mower and a tool bench ran along the back wall. Handheld tools like hammers, screwdrivers, and more littered the surface, and he returned the few he’d been using with a long sigh.
Weed whackers, leaf blowers, rakes, and larger tools hung on nails on the walls, and Dylan was grateful the ranch had come with all the tools and equipment they needed to run it. Or at least try to run it.
Shane insisted they meet every evening to discuss what they’d gotten done that day, and what the next day would bring. He’d been working with Shay to know how things had been done on the ranch before they’d arrived, which pastures were next in the rotation, where the cattle were, and where the water was on the land. Austin had been working with Oaker and Carlos, getting a feel for what it took to keep the smaller animals watered and fed, what state the equipment was in, what the ranch hands did all day, and where everything was located.
Each night, Dylan barely had the energy to drop to his knees and thank the Lord for the ranch where they’d landed. But he hadn’t missed a night since learning buying Triple Towers Ranch might actually be an option.
No matter how tired he was, he made sure to thank God for the opportunity to be where he was in Hill Country, on this ranch, with his family.
Since moving onto the ranch, he’d added a plea for Hazel to his brief ministrations before bed. Just a quick sentence about keeping her safe, helping her to be happy, or giving him the courage to call her the next day.
It still hadn’t happened.
He stood in the shade of the tool shed, Titan panting at his feet, the heat seeping through the wood and making the air smell like dust and timber. Hazel had been so good at telling him what was on her mind, and she’d encouraged him to do the same.
Picturing her, he wondered what she was doing right that moment, on this bright, clear Saturday summer morning.
He pulled out his phone and dialed her before he lost his confidence. The line rang and rang, and she didn’t pick up.
A slip of relief moved through Dylan, making his voice stronger when he spoke to her voicemail. “Hey, Hazel,” he said. “It’s Dylan.” He hoped she hadn’t deleted his number from her phone. “I’m…well, I guess I’ve just been thinking a whole lot about you and I miss you.”
His voice stuck in his throat after that, though he felt like he had more to say to her. “I’ll call you later,” he finished and hung up.
Air whooshed out of his lungs, and he turned away from the hammers and nails and assorted nuts and bolts. After all, there was too much work to do to stand around feeling sorry for himself.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hazel stared at the pictures she’d just hung on the wall, her phone held to her ear as Dylan’s voice came through the speaker. He’d called.
When she’d seen his name on her display, she thought she’d been pranked. That Jason had somehow figured out how to make his call look like it had come from Dylan. But no. There was his bass voice coming through the line, saying pretty things like I’ve been thinking about you, and I miss you.
She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. And the way she missed him bordered on obsessive.
Knocking pulled her attention from the message and the trance she’d fallen into while listening to it. “Coming,” she called, ending the call and setting the phone on the desk in her salon.
She met Lesli in the kitchen. “Oh, good. You came in. You don’t have to knock.” Hazel had put a magnetic sign on the door that read Hair by Hazel on the top line, with Come on in beneath that. Her house didn’t have a separate entrance for the salon, but her customers didn’t seem to mind.
Hazel tried to have bottled water in the fridge for every client who came, along with something they liked. For some, it was a cookie. For others, granola bars.
Lesli set her purse on the counter and picked up the snack pack of crackers. “I’m assuming these are for me.”
“Peanut butter and cheese crackers. All you.” Hazel grinned at her. “How are things at the office?”
“The same,” she said, following Hazel down the short hall to the salon. “Well, besides your stacks of folders and empty soda cans.” She grinned at Hazel in the mirror, sobering quickly. “You okay, sweetie?”
Hazel pulled herself together as best as she could. “Yeah, sure. I’m okay.” She started fluffing Lesli’s dark hair. “What were you thinking today?”
“Oh, the same.” Lesli adjusted herself in the chair while Hazel draped her with the cape. “You know me. No adventurous bones in this body.”
Hazel laughed. She washed. She cut. She went through all the motions, and when Lesli left, Hazel twisted the lock on her doors and sank onto the couch. Monty wandered over and collapsed onto the floor in front of her, a huff coming from his mouth.
“I know,” she said, letting her hand drape over the side of the couch so she could pat him. What she was answering for the dog, she didn’t know.
But she did know her life had gone back to hollow now that Dylan had vacated it.
I miss you.
He’d called.
And he hadn’t asked her to call him back. He’d said he’d call her again later. She got up and retrieved her phone from the salon, dialing as she went back to the couch. “McKayla,” she said when her friend picked up. “Dylan called. What should I do?”
“I’ll be over in ten minutes.” McKayla hung up without another word, and Hazel smiled to herself for the first time in weeks.
Hazel had coffee brewing and graham crackers set out when McKayla burst through the front door. “He called?”
Hazel nodded and ripped open the first package of graham crackers.
“When?” McKayla asked, tossing her purse onto the couch. “What did he say?”
Nodding to the phone, Hazel asked, “Coffee?”
“Of course.” McKayla swiped the phone from the counter while Hazel poured coffee and got out cream and sugar. With everything assembled, they sat at the bar together. Hazel broke a graham cracker along the seam and dippe
d it in her coffee.
McKayla put the voice mail message on speaker, and Dylan’s wonderful voice filled the whole house. “Hey, Hazel. It’s Dylan.” Pause. “I’m…well, I guess I’ve just been thinking a whole lot about you and I miss you.” Pause. “I’ll call you later.”
Hazel met her friend’s eyes, which were wide and sparkly. “He’ll call you later?”
“We’ll see,” Hazel said.
“Do you want him to call you later?”
Hazel shrugged, tired of the constant war in her head. “He’s busy right now. Maybe once everything’s settled….” In her heart, she wanted Dylan to choose her over the ranch. But such thoughts made her feel like the most selfish woman on the planet, and she hadn’t vocalized them to anyone, not even McKayla.
“Have you figured it out yet?” McKayla asked next, deftly moving from the subject of Dylan calling to something else.
“I love the salon,” she said. “It makes me happy.”
“What else?”
“Summertime.” Hazel gave McKayla a side-smile. “Going out to eat. Baking cookies. You and Jason.” She put her hand over her friend’s. She also had never told McKayla that spending time with her and Jason was akin to torture. Seeing them so happy, their fingers entwined, the way they whispered to each other, and had stars of love in their eyes had only served to remind her of what she didn’t have.
What she thought she didn’t want.
But, since she’d broken up with Dylan, she’d challenged herself to figure out what made her happy, and to try to get it.
So she’d quit her job at Texas Parks and Wildlife, learned how to bake the perfect chocolate chip cookie, and reopened her salon. She had clients every day, but she’d need to increase her workload in order to live once her savings ran out.
“And?” McKayla prompted.
Hazel knew what she wanted her to say. Knew what she wanted to tell her. So she said, “Dylan calling makes me happy.”
If only she knew what to do about it.
“Maybe you should call him back.” McKayla lifted the carton of cream and poured a splash into her coffee.
