Page 37 of Wyatt

I’m taking a long, deep inhale of my cigarette when Sawyer emerges from the bar, hands in his pockets.

I wait for him to rib me for smoking. Instead, he does what brothers do and goes right for the jugular.

“You’re not sick. You’re in love with Sally.”

I take another pull on the cigarette, the nicotine making my chest tighten and my head buzz. I don’t say a word.

“And y’all had fun today on your little ride down by the river, and you’re realizing that the more you’re around her, the more you want her, and that ain’t ever gonna stop. Butyou think you can’t have her because you’d be holding her back.”

I drop the hand holding my cigarette against my leg and look up at the sky.

“For the record, I think you’re wrong. You couldn’t hold Sally back if you tried. No one can.”

“What does that mean?”

He lifts a shoulder. “Sally’s a grown woman. She’s the one who gets to decide what’s good for her and what’s not.”

I think about the joke I cracked with her earlier about assuming making you an ass. Am I being an ass, too, assuming I need to stay out of Sally’s way?

Sally is a great fucking friend. I want to be great to her too. I don’t know when doing that became so complicated.

“She’s going to New York. And my life is here, Sawyer. It’s where I belong. I’m gonna stay in Hartsville forever, if only so I can be a pain in your ass for the rest of our lives.”

My brother cocks a brow. “We’ll be just fine without you, thank you very much. Why’re you so scared to leave?”

“I don’t know.” My turn to lift a shoulder as I hold my cigarette between my thumb and forefinger and take a drag. “I feel like Rivers stay put. Leaving…” I swallow the sudden tightness in my throat. “It feels like the coward’s way out. And I love it here. I love what I do. I love y’all, even though I hate you sometimes.”

Sawyer is quiet for a long beat. “You know, you’re not gonna let Mom and Dad down by choosing a path that’s different from theirs. You don’t owe them anything, Wy.”

My eyes burn. I’ve always felt like I have no choice in the matter—that I have to stay in Hartsville because I owe it to my family’s legacy.

What if I did have a choice, though?

Why is Sawyer always fucking right? I’ve never hated him more than I do right now.

“Don’t we though? They worked their fingers to the bone to make sure we had a place in this life. It was in their goddamn will—they passed the ranch to us. We have a responsibility?—”

“To be happy.” Sawyer’s eyes gleam in the lights outside the bar. “That’s it. That’s all they wanted for us. As a parent, I can tell you that’s all anyone wants for their children—for them to be happy. To be who they are and do what they want.”

My fingers sting. I look down to see my cigarette is burned almost to the filter. I take one last drag before putting it out in the ashtray on top of the nearby garbage can. These ashtrays are everywhere in Hartsville, leftover relics from the era of the Marlboro Man. Back then, every cowboy in these parts smoked morning, noon, and night, and no one lived past sixty.

I gotta quit.

“I want to be a cowboy.” I shove my hands into my pockets. “But I also want Sally.”

“See how simple that is?”

“But it’s not. Not by a long shot.”

“It can be. Why not tell her how you feel?”

Looking down, I kick at the gravel. The chain around my neck jostles as I move. I’m gripped by the crazy idea that it’s Mom’s way of wringing my neck from the grave.

Your brother is right. Tell her. She might not stay, but that doesn’t mean you can’t leave with her.

“She asked me to help her pick up guys,” I blurt. “Wants me to show her how to have fun by pretending to be her fake date. Says it’ll give her some much-needed confidence.”

Another pause.

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