Page 10 of Since Day One

I gaped at him, unsure how to take what he’d just said. Kurt had been the first person to ever tell me he’d appreciated my work, and it felt strange coming from someone that wasn’t my boss. Someone who was just, well, different. My skin prickled, goosebumps rising beneath my sweatshirt.

It had to be from the cold, that was why. Nothing to do with the man standing in front of me.

“A simple thank you would suffice, Princess,” he added, filling the silence that expanded between us. I rolled my eyes.

“That should be coming from you and Ruger, since we just did a chore for y’all as an ‘activity.’” I shoved my hands on my hips, and he laughed, grabbing the door handle and pulling it open.

“Well, then thank you, ma’am.” He tipped his hat and gestured for me to enter first.

Chapter 5

Istared at the fire crackling in front of me. My food was long gone, the comfort filling my soul with warmth. Despite the loneliness swallowing me whole during dinner, there was a sense of healing that felt like it was beginning. Or maybe it was me letting go. This was the last time that I had to deal with this agony, a past that I desperately wanted to forget.

A few members of my family danced to the beat of the music around me, Ruger talked to a beautiful blonde, and Gunnar laughed with a man I’d never seen before. My friends from back home might not be sitting around this fire with me, but at least there was a small amount of peace swaying gently inside me.

Peace that didn’t last long, as the screeching, high-pitched laughter from my cousin Marissa came closer and closer. She stopped giggling and plopped herself down directly beside me and then sighed heavily.

“We’re not here for you, so stop making it about yourself,” she snarled, and I glanced her way. Brown eyes watched me, glowing red with anger. “We’re here for Grandpa. Immediately stepping in and making a scene takes away from that,” she continued, and my lungs expanded slowly, filling with a reassuring and calming breath.

“I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t say a word,” I answered.

“Yet you still had to be the center of attention. You know very well that we wouldn’t be here at this ranch if I hadn’t convinced Grandma that we should come do this.”

“This is a wonderful place for a retreat. Thank you for that,” I politely answered, and she gruffed, raising her nose at me.

“Again, your opinion doesn’t matter, and I didn’t ask for it. Look, back off, and stay away. My boyfriend taught me this stuff, and I know this world better than you. You ran away, remember?” she snarled.

Numbness. That’s what coursed through my veins—an indifference to the woman I turned to face. Yes, I had run away, but not for the reasons that I could only imagine she thought. I ran away because that was safer than staying. Because at least running away from there had given me a chance at moving on, escaping something that shouldn’t have ever happened to me.

“You have a boyfriend?” I asked, trying to make peaceful conversation with her.

“Don’t mock me!” she screeched. “Just remember your place, you fake-ass wannabe.” And she snapped up, twirled on her feet, and stomped away. My eyes trembled, blinking back the unexpected tears of anger that threatened to escape. It was the same. Nothing had changed, despite the years of distance, and I still had no idea what I ever did to cause such hostility. I worked so hard to prove myself, had buckles and titles and a small sprinkle of money to show, yet to everyone here, that’s all I was and ever would be: a wannabe.

It was going to be a long month, and finding an escape already weighed heavily at the forefront of my mind. Maybe tomorrow I would find a way to get back to the airport and buy a ticket home. The closure I sought no longer seemed to be coming anytime soon. It no longer felt worth it. But she was also right—I had run away last time, and this conflict didn’t threaten my safety. So this time, running was not an option.

As the crowd began to dwindle, I stood from my seat, ready to go to bed. Wandering through the yard instead of returning through the lodge, I waded through frozen weeds that scratched at the surface of my jeans, begging to tear me apart just as my family had done. The hair on my neck stood on end, and a shiver ran down my spine. Glancing behind me, my eyes latched onto Gunnar’s as he tracked me from his spot beside the fire pit. Pausing in the midst of a frozen abyss, I offered him a tight smile. Shadows from the flickering fire danced across his features, concealing his face from my desperate attempt at deciphering his thoughts. He nodded once, a simple goodnight, and then returned to his conversation at hand.

There was so much on my mind. Pain that weighed heavily on my heart and confusion that held me frozen in time. There had to be an explanation as to why my family had protested this life as a whole for so long, why Marissa held so much hate toward me, and why my parents had done what they had.

My shoulders sagged as somehow, oddly enough, the chains that bound us tightly together seemed to loosen just a little. His choices hadn’t been my parents’, no matter if they had pushed us to be together and supported the relationship. Even if they had been so upset and called me horrible names when I’d packed my things and left. His choices were his alone.

Passing the first bunkhouse, shoving my hands in my pockets, I turned to face the second white-painted building. Lights were on already, and my imagination ran wild with the girl gossip that was almost certainly happening. Gossip that I always found annoying but still listened to from Abi. She really was the best friend a girl could ask for. I sent a quick text to let her know I was here safe and would call later. Several texts came back from her, all expressing her love and support for me. And reassurance that my stallion was fine.

That didn’t lessen the desire boiling within my soul to get me back to Texas.

I opened the heavy white door and stepped inside. The moment my toe passed the threshold of the bunkhouse, absolute silence blanketed the room. Eyes met mine; the only face with half a smile was my grandma. There was a pained side of me that wondered what everyone thought of me, what all my cousins possibly knew concerning my personal life. But there was also a side, the portion of my soul that was ripping at the cords winding our lives together, that no longer cared to know.

Scanning for a place to sleep, my eyes drifted across the small kitchen that was immediately to my right. It was entirely painted in modern whites and grays—even the three couches to my left, forming a nice circle around a stone fireplace, were a muted ash. Beyond that, on the right side was a door for a bathroom and then rows of bunk beds. Everything in basic neutrals.

Marissa grinned and pointed to the very back corner. “That top one’s yours.”

Nodding in confirmation with a soft smile on my face, I walked to the back of the bunkhouse. I’d slept in much worse places, and honestly, it didn’t matter what she did. It was time for me to let go and pray that someday they would too. After this month, we could all move forward, and I would no longer be trapped in a world full of guilt and sorrow.

There was no one else sharing the bunk with me. My suitcase and duffel were tossed by the foot of it without care by someone who’d grabbed them off of the couch I’d set them on earlier.

No one was in the bathroom at the moment, so I quickly pulled my flannel pants and long-sleeve T-shirt from the luggage and silently raced to a shower.

No one noticed when I exited the bathroom.

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