I craned my head to look at him, resting my hot, teary cheeks on my fist. “Why not? Why couldn’t he say anything?”
“It’s called respect. You made your choice, and he honored you enough to let you do it. Don’t you ever confuse that for weakness because I’m sure it ripped his guts out. Would if it was me.”
“And how am I supposed to make it up to him? How could he even trust me now?”
Dad shrugged. “One way to find out.”
I sniffed. “Okay.” I sucked in a few racking sobs and tried to dry my face with the heels of my hands. “Okay, I’m going to call him right now.”
“You do that, sweetheart.” Dad patted me on the back and eased to his feet. “I’m going to bed. Oh, before I forget—” He tossed the magazine he was reading onto the cushion beside me. “That came for you. A whole stack of ‘em, actually.”
I didn’t care about any magazine just now, but I flicked some salt from my eye and turned the magazine around to read the title. “Oh, it’sStockman’s. I heard they had some good articles for youth, and Audrey and I were starting to run out of ideas with the after-school kids. I wrote last week and asked if they’d send me some of their back issues. I’ll check these later.”
“Good idea. Night, honey.”
I already had my phone out, scrolling through my contacts. “Good night, dad.” But my dad wasn’t the first man on my mind anymore.
There he was. The man who’d been patiently trying to capture my heart and who’d probably watched time and again as I slipped away. Dusty Walker, known only in my phone by the name of his ranch. The guy who sold hay and beef to the neighbors. The guy who gave his time and the sweat of his brow to help a bunch of kids, an injured cow, a friend in need, or even a jerk like Austen who just wanted to use him.
The guy who could steal my breath just by smiling at me.
First things first. I changed that contact name to “Dusty,” the way it should have been all along. Dusty, my friend, the one I wanted to hold me for the rest of my life. I didn’t even have a picture of him in my photos so I could update the profile, but I’d fix that the next time I saw him. Maybe I’d even get a selfie of us together. Assuming this phone call went the way I prayed it would.
The phone rang once, then went to voice mail.
I hung up out of reflex. I couldn’t just leave a message for something like this! I needed to hear his voice, to pour out all my regrets and hope that he could give me one more chance. I drummed my fingers on the arm of the couch.
Should I try again? It was after ten, and those guys at the ranch kept early hours. But if my dad was right, Dusty would want me to call again. I owed it to him to reach out as soon as I possibly could, end whatever suffering I’d put him through.
He still didn’t answer, but this time, I didn’t hang up when the recorded greeting came on. I just listened to his voice, trying to imagine he was in that room with me. When did Dusty’s voice become the one that soothed my raw nerves? I could feel the tension draining from my neck, the blood in my veins slowing down.
There could be no doubt about it. I was in love with Dusty Walker, and I’d never even held his hand. Never kissed him, never whispered into his ear, never felt his heart beating under my cheek. How much had I wasted looking in all the wrong places for the one who was in front of me all along?
When his greeting ended, and the messaging service beeped, I took a breath and made myself say something. He deserved at least that much. “Hello, Dusty, it’s Jess. I was hoping to catch you, but I guess it’s too late. I’ll try again tomorrow, but I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. And… I miss seeing you. There’s so much I want to say, but—”
“If you are satisfied with your message, please hang up, or press one now.”
I closed my eyes and blew out a sigh of aggravation. Of course, the stupid machinewouldcut me off. But what else did I plan on saying? I punched the off button and clutched my phone like it was my only life line to Dusty. I’d try him again in the morning.
Chapter 23
Dusty
“Wannarideturnback?”
I almost jumped out of my hide when Cody popped up behind me and tossed a horse’s rein over my shoulder as I was cleaning a stall. “Holy smokes! Give a guy a warning, why don’t you?”
“I did. Called you three times from the aisle. I thought you must be listening to music or something.”
I pointed to my ears. “No earbuds, no phone, remember?”
“That’s right, I forgot. ‘Woolgathering,’ as my wife likes to say?”
I set the pitchfork aside. “I guess.”
“Oh, I know that look. Something’s eating you inside out, and you’re either dead to the world, or you’re about to blow. Want to talk about it?”
“No.”