In fact, our breakup became the stuff of legends—an explosive affair, with a final showdown at the town hoedown. Tilly had been acting weird for a couple of weeks before then, and we’d had a few spats. I mean, we weren’t perfect. We argued like every other couple. But those last arguments before the end were more intense.
Maybe if I’d paid more attention, I would have seen the signs. I would have noticed the change in her. But when school finished, I spent most of my days helping Dad run the ranch. Because of that, I was spending less time with Tilly, but I figured she would understand. She was always a smart girl. Way smarter than me.
I pull onto the track and head toward the house. While Elsa is getting more excited, knowing she’s going to be getting out soon, all I can think about is that argument. Heat still rushes to my face even after all these years.
The evening was going well, and like every other small-town hoedown, there was music, dancing, a lot of laughter and hollering, as well as food and drink. Everyone was just having a good time.
At the beginning of the night, Tilly seemed to be enjoying herself, but a little later, she disappeared. When I couldn’t find her, I grabbed Joey.
“Have you seen Tilly?”
My younger brother, who was enjoying far too much booze in far too short a period of time, swayed a little and looked up at me with a bewildered expression.
“Nope,” he said right before taking another slug of his beer.
“I think you should call it a night, Joey,” I replied, walking past him, my eyes scanning the room. “Or you’re going to pay for it in the morning.”
He said something, but I wasn’t paying attention. I continued through the crowd, and upon reaching the other side of the barn, I felt someone grab my arm. Spinning around with a smile, expecting to see Tilly, I instead found myself faced with Marcy Draper.
“Hi, Jake,” she breathed. “You want to dance?”
Marcy had been a pain in my butt for a while now. At school, she tried to come between me and Tilly, and now that school was over, it didn’t look like she was giving up. Her father was on the town council, and if there was one word that described Marcy, it would be spoiled. She’d had everything handed to her on a silver platter her entire life. What she wanted, she got. But I wasn’t for sale.
To cut a long story short, Marcy had her arms all over me at the exact second that Tilly re-entered the barn. I saw her, and she saw me, and I knew there was going to be trouble. Shoving Marcy off me, I went after her. She had almost reached the exit up near the stage when I got to her.
“Tilly. Wait,” I said, taking hold of her arm to talk to her.
Spinning around, she broke free from my light grip and glared at me. “Get off me,” she screamed. “Go back to your dance partner and leave me alone.”
“Oh, come on. You know it isn’t like that,” I barked back.
There then ensued a massive fight, which, after several minutes, became the entertainment for the whole town. The band stopped playing, the people stopped dancing, and everyone in the place watched on as me and Tilly went at it.
She accused me of flirting with girls, of never having time for her, of smothering her, which, in my view, was entirely contradictory, but whatever. In the end, she told me it was overand then stormed off. Maybe I should have gone after her, but by that point, my friends gathered around me and pulled me away.
Someone somewhere called out to get the party going again, and as the band began to play and people slowly made their way to the dancefloor, I was dragged to the bar. After my earlier warning to Joey, it was actually me who suffered more the next morning.
Tilly wouldn’t see me or speak to me after that night, and two months later, she left town and moved to New York. That was another shock. She had always told me she wanted the country life. In the end—and it took me months to get over it all—I concluded that maybe I hadn’t known Tilly Collins at all.
After lunch, I try to concentrate on my work, but Tilly is now living rent-free in my head, and I can’t evict her. I don’t know why. She’s been back to the town several times. I’ve always heard about it after she’s left, usually from Gerry, her father. He’s done a whole lot of work for me over the years, and discerningly, he only ever mentions Tilly in passing.
Tilly’s mom and dad have never held anything against me. In fact, they seemed more sympathetic toward me than their own daughter. While Bella bemoaned the fact that she wouldn’t see me and Tilly happily married with a family growing up on the ranch, Gerry was more reserved about it.
He and Tilly were always close. I’m only grateful that he didn’t try to justify her actions to me. She broke my heart, and I think Gerry always knew that. Even now, I still don’t know what happened between us. If Gerry knows, he’s never told me, and I sure as heck am not going to ask him.
It’s after eight when I head into town. Joey texted, asking if I wanted to meet the guys in the bar for a little pool. I don’t usually go out on a weeknight, but what the heck. Maybe it’ll distract me. Apparently, knowing that Tilly won’t be in Baskington for long hasn’t helped.
“There he is,” Joey calls out as I walk across the bar.
He’s standing next to Chris Bromwell, my best friend since high school, while Phil Jackson is lining up his shot on the pool table.
“Did you hear the news?” Phil says, not taking his eye off the ball.
I glance at Joey because I figure he’s talking about the pregnancy.
“Sure.” I grin. “Joey and Sheila are going for a football team.”
Phil takes his shot, pockets the ball, and then stands and gives me a long look. The others are looking at me with concerned faces, too.