Page 42 of Rusty

"Angus, it's Rusty Maguire," he said calmly, despite the storm of emotions swirling inside him. "I'm calling about Janice.”

“Maguire," he said, his voice like ice. "I should have known you were involved in this. Where's my daughter? I’ve had seventeen men out looking for her with no luck. What have you done to her?”

“She's safe,” Rusty replied, determined not to be intimidated by the horrible man, “but she's come back into my life recently, purely by chance."

"What's the purpose of this call?" Angus demanded, suspicion lacing his tone.

"I want to ask for your blessing," Rusty replied, his voice steady. "Janice and I have been given a second chance, and I want us to live our lives without fear. We both deserve that much."

"Is that all?" Angus asked, his voice seemingly dripping with disdain.

"Please, Angus," Rusty implored. "She's got a right to make her own decisions without being belittled for them. She's grown up, and so have I. We're stronger together."

The wind whispered through the trees, their branches swaying like dancers in the fading light. Rusty's heart raced as Angus's voice on the other end of the line turned from curiosity to anger.

"Are you still a pervert, Rusty? A—what was it—dominant daddy?" Angus spat, his words like venom. "You think I'd ever give my blessing for you two to be together like that? You must be as stupid as you are sick."

"Angus, it's not like that," Rusty tried to explain, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"I’m glad you called,” sneered Angus. “Because now I can stop bailing out that pathetic excuse of a ranch of yours. Your cousins can wave goodbye to their comfy homestead. And as for Janice. Well, the girl is dead to me.” With that, Angus hung up.

The silence that followed was heavy. Rusty took a long, shaky breath, sliding his back down the wall as he sat down on the ground in exhaustion.

Well. That didn’t go great.

So, what now?

A knock at the cabin door interrupted his thoughts, and Rusty's heart sank as he realized it must be Janice. He opened the door with a forced smile, trying to hide his inner turmoil. "Hey, Janice."

"Hi, Rusty," she replied hesitantly, her red hair framing her face like a halo. "Can we talk?"

"Of course." Rusty stepped aside, allowing her into the cozy space. As she entered, the scent of fresh-baked bread filled the air, a small comfort amidst the storm brewing between them.

“I brought you some homemade sandwiches,” she told him. “Nanny Clara ran a baking session for us in the Nursery and I thought you could use something to eat. I’ve noticed you’ve barely touched your food at dinner lately.”

“That’s kind of you, Janice,” said Rusty awkwardly. He took the sandwiches and put them down on the table.

"Something's bothering you," Janice observed, her green eyes searching his face. "What is it?"

Rusty hesitated. It was hard to know where to begin with his thoughts. He wasn’t good with big conversations. He was a simple man, who liked to ride horses and breathe in the country air. But he had to try, for Janice’s sake.

“Take a seat on the couch, Janice,” he said.

Janice did as he asked, and Rusty went over to the wooden chest that held his memories. He pulled out the old letter from Angus, knowing that it was about to change everything.

“Ten years ago, your father wrote me a letter,” said Rusty, sitting down beside Janice. “He told me that if I didn’t leave you, he’d find a way to ruin your life.”

He handed Janice the letter and she took it with trembling fingers. Rusty watched her eyes scan it, filling with tears as she did so.

"Rusty," Janice choked out, "how could you keep this from me? Do you have any idea how much I've struggled, thinking you just didn't want me anymore?"

Rusty felt his heart constrict at the pain he'd caused her. He reached out to touch her arm, but she shied away. "Janice, I'm so sorry," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I thought I was protecting you, but I see now that I only hurt you worse."

"Protecting me?" Janice scoffed, her anger and hurt boiling over. "By making me feel cherished one moment and rejected the next? By running away instead of telling me the truth about my father's meddling?"

"Please, let me explain," Rusty pleaded, his hazel eyes shining with desperation. "I never meant to send mixed signals or hurt you. I was scared, Janice. Scared of losing you, scared of not being strong enough to be your rock. Frankly, I was scared of ruining your life."

Janice stared at him for a long moment. Finally, she spoke, her voice soft but resolute. “Rusty, I appreciate your honesty," she said, wiping her eyes. "But I need time to process all of this. I need to figure out if I can trust you again, if we can really make this work."

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