Page 16 of Christmas with Three Cowboys

Darla takes a deep breath and lets it out as slowly as possible. I know that look on her face. Its exhaustion combined with frustration. I understand the feeling perfectly, albeit under adifferent set of circumstances.

“They’re still testing for that, too. I reckon it’ll be a couple more months, at least, before the doctors are able to give me a clear diagnosis. In the meantime, they’re trying different treatments to see what works. I’m just grateful they’re letting me do it as an outpatient, otherwise somebody in that hospital would end up dead.”

“Oh, dear.” I giggle.

Darla changes the subject. “How are you settling in, Melissa?” I notice the subtle shift in her tone. It’s not as stern or as rough as it was the first time we met. She seems a tad softer, and I welcome the change. Maybe she’s getting used to me. “Everybody treating you okay?”

“Yes, absolutely,” I reply, struggling not to think of my session with Colton for the purpose of this conversation. “They’re all good people, kind and welcoming and patient. I like it here, to be honest. It’s peaceful, and there’s plenty of work to keep me busy.”

Darla takes another sip of her coffee, her attention focused on me. She makes me feel like I’m under a microscope lens, but I keep reminding myself it’s in her nature to be cautious, suspicious, and protective of the ranch, of her family, and her people.

“Were those your drugs you got busted for?” she asks, changing gears yet again.

“Wow.”

“I need you to tell me the truth.”

“I could lie.”

Darla flashes a cool grin. “I’d know if you were lying.”

“Fine,” I say, taking a deep breath. “No, they were not my drugs.”

“Whose, then?”

“My fiancé, Jake. I didn’t even know he was dealing,” I reply. “He told me a story about him running an independent delivery service for local pharmaceutical companies.”

Darla chuckles dryly. “Technically speaking, drugs are drugs, no matter who distributes them.”

“Yeah, but class A narcotics aren’t just any drugs,” I sigh deeply. “One night, he asked me to pick up his van from somewhere and drop it off at a different address across Lincoln. He’d been drinking, he said, and a client had called for a last-minute delivery.”

“And you believed him.”

I shake my head slowly. “I was stupid and deeply in love. Granted, I knew he was troubled. I think that’s what drew me to him. I thought I could fix him, show him what real love was.”

“Oh, Melissa. You weren’t stupid. Most of us find at least one such project to emotionally wreck us in our lifetime.” She laughs, but the bitterness in her tone is unmistakable.

“That’s right. And I’ve spent the past three years working on precisely that aspect.”

“How’d you get such a harsh sentence then?”

I lower my gaze in shame. “The cops pulled me over. I showed them my driver’s license. The van didn’t have all the necessary paperwork. I didn’t know that. Five minutes later, they got a call through the station and started going through the van. Theyfound the drugs, and I was speechless, shocked. I couldn’t even react.”

My breathing quickens.

“Are you okay?” Darla asks, instantly noticing the change in my voice. A panic attack is hovering at the edges of my consciousness. “You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” I mumble. “I get anxious when I think about that night and what followed.”

“So, you got arrested for possession.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What happened next?”

“You’re really digging into it here,” I say with a nervous laugh.

Darla’s expression doesn’t shift. “It’ll help you focus and avoid a panic attack. I know what that looks like. Come on, think back. Tell me about it.”

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