Page 55 of Destined for the Cowboy

And now she would finally, after seven years, follow his final wishes.

She hadn’t looked at that last letter he’d written since she’d locked it away in the box with all the other documents of that time, sealing them out of her life thinking it might seal out some of the pain. It hadn’t.

She yawned and stretched, and smiled at the twinge she felt here and there, the reminders of a night spent in pure, beautiful wildness with the only man who’d made her want it in all these years.

And it was that, she supposed, that made her able to say with certainty that today would be her final goodbye. She would always love David, but…she was in love with Logan Fox.

She hadn’t told Logan that yet, of course. She was barely used to the idea herself. But last night had put the seal on it, as far as she was concerned.

Whether he would or even could love her back, she didn’t know. Yet.

So now she would do this, do it right, with all the tribute David deserved, and then she would move on. Because she’d finally found someone who made her want to.

She went to her desk. Pulled out the locked storage box that held all the “serious stuff” as David used to call it. She opened it and reached in. She didn’t have to search for what she wanted. She knew it would be right on top of all the other things, the financial papers, the legal stuff. It was always on top, after all the times she’d gone for it and put it back unread.

But this time she would read it. This time, with painful years of distance between her and the moment it had been intended for, after his death, she would read it.

The moment she saw the familiar handwriting she almost weakened. It was so distinctive, with that flair she’d always assumed was from the artistic part of architecture. She pulled out the envelope and slammed the box shut again. And locked it again, putting another layer between herself and chickening out. Even with all her determination she still sat there unmoving for a long moment.

The first lesson she got, just looking at her name in David’s familiar hand on the envelope, was that it hadn’t gotten any easier to read through tears. The second was that, while she was crying, it wasn’t the desperate, near-hysterical sobbing of the first—and only—time she’d read this. The ache, the pain was still there but it was now a dull sort of sadness, for all the experiences missed, for the pain he’d gone through, and how hard he’d fought to stay with her.

She realized now that this letter, written when the cancer had returned and they’d been told this was it, wasn’t just for her, it had also been for him. He’d been dealing with this the best way he knew how, which was head-on. He’d been working through to acceptance and, David-like, he wanted to help her do the same.

She thought again about the future, about the time she’d spend doing things she loved with the man she now loved. She braced herself, and pulled out the letter.

It wasn’t that it didn’t still hurt to see that once so familiar hand, or that it was shakier here than it had ever been because he’d been so weak. It did hurt, but this too was different somehow. The tears that welled up in her eyes still stung, but they were brought on by a feeling of sadness, not the ripping, agonizing grief she’d been all too familiar with. She would always be sad, she knew. There was no way you could love someone the way she’d loved David and not always feel an ache thinking of how his life had been cut short. But she also felt a touch of pride at all he’d accomplished in thirty-five short years.

She unfolded the sheet of paper, even managing a smile at his need to do things by hand in an electronic age. He’d always handwritten things, especially notes to her, and she’d treasured it even before she’d known how short a time they would have together.

To Mrs. Trista Thorpe Carhart, my love, my heart~

It’s 3 AM, and I fear the end we both know is coming will be here soon. I’m watching you doze in that uncomfortable chair, in this noisy place that never really sleeps. Do not think I don’t know that you’ve not left my side since I landed here for the final phase of this battle. The battle I will lose soon—I can sense that.

There are two things I want you to know. The first is, if it was offered that I could live a hundred years longer, only I had to do it without ever meeting or knowing you, I would say no. Not for anything, even more years, would I give up having had you in my life.

The second thing will be harder if I know you, and I do. Eventually, when this is over and some time has passed, you must move on, Tris. You’re too alive, too vital, too wonderful to waste too many of your own years grieving the ones I did not have. And please, please, whenyou do, when you perhaps find that man who can put joy back into your heart again, don’t hesitate. Consider it my last hope, my final wish, that you find happiness again. I cannot face this passage thinking I’m leaving you to a life of only loss and grief. Live again, Tris. Happily.

Do it for both of us.

I loved you with all my heart.

David

The tears overflowed, the emotions as powerful in this moment as they had been the day she’d first read this. It had been that last past tense that had broken her. This time, it was a simple “The End” to their story.

“I loved you that way too,” she whispered as she sat staring at the note.

She let her mind, usually disciplined and steady, run as if it were one of the more rowdy horses Logan dealt with. Her thoughts careened around, bouncing off walls of remembered pain and doors leading to change.

There was a lot of advice in that letter. Whenever she had taken advice from the man who’d written it, she’d never been sorry.

And so she whispered to the night around her, “All right, David. I’m going to try.”

She didn’t know how long had passed before she folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. She would take it with her today. It was as close as he could get to being there, at this gathering in his honor.

And then she would bring it back here and put it away for good. And concentrate on what was now the most important thing.

She was going to fulfill his last request.

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