Page 28 of From Rivals to I Do

Good, I’m glad I didn’t offend, he replies, a smiley face punctuating the end of his sentence. So, I’m going to be honest, I don’t know how to go about this. I’m not too good with technology.

You and me both, I reply with another laughing face, and he sends one back.

My name’s Eli, but I suppose you saw that in my profile. I’m looking to make friends first, then see where it goes.

Me too! I reply, and for the next hour or so, Eli and I text back and forth, shooting the breeze—albeit a bit awkwardly. But it's not weird

awkward, more like endearing. We talk about ranch life, animals, and what movies and music we like. Then we gab a bit about TV and

how we miss the old shows and find ourselves watching old stuff over and over.

Both of us have kids, though he’s got double the amount I do. But it doesn’t bother me at all. From the way he talks, he’s got nothing

but love for his boys.

Four of them! I typed. I don’t know that I could survive! Little Joe and Sparrow were enough! I say, and it makes him laugh.

At first, I worry that he’ll ask where their father is, but he doesn’t. And though my brain is nagging at me to ask where his ex is, out of

respect, I don’t.

If I don’t want my can of worms opened—an embarrassing one at that—it wouldn’t be right to insist on knowing his.

Before I know it, when I glance over to the clock, it’s nearly three a.m., and my eyes widen as I remember I need to get some sleep

since orientation is at noon later that day at the hospital.

I hate to cut this short, but I start work tomorrow, and I need to at least attempt to sleep, I say.

That’s alright, he replies. I have to get up to start chorin’ myself by eight at the latest, and I usually eat breakfast at six.

Oh no, I hope I didn’t keep you awake! I reply, feeling bad that I didn’t figure he’d have to get up much earlier than I did.

Don’t worry darlin’, he replies. If anything, the boys and Mitch will have to give me a little leeway.

Darlin’, huh? I think to myself with a crooked little smile. I like that. A lot actually.

Hey, before you go, Eli types. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out sometime. Coffee first, maybe? I’d like to get to know you better, and while the app is nice, I’m better face-to-face.

I pause for a moment, my fingers hovering over the little electronic keyboard in front of me. I want to say yes, he seems so awesome.

But admittedly, I’m scared. I’m still a wounded animal, trying to heal. Would it really be fair to drag someone else into that nonsense?

I should be more focused on work, right?

All these thoughts swirl in my head for a moment, but I shake them all off. There’s something about Eli that just feels. . . different. I

can’t explain it, and I don’t think I need to label it, at least not right now. But I feel like I need to give him a chance.

How does Wednesday morning sound? I ask. It’s my next day off.

That sounds perfect, he says with a smiley face next to it, and I feel my face get a little warm as I smile too. It’s been lovely talking to you, Darla, he says, and the warmth deepens.

It’s been lovely speaking with you too, Eli, I reply.

Eight o’clock at the state diner on Cliff Street? Eli asks. That way, if you decide you want a little breakfast or something, there’s the option.

That would be great! I say.

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