Page 66 of Claiming What Is Mine

This better be some awesome damn surprise, bub. Or else.

Gabe pulls out his phone and enters an address into his navigation app. I peek at the destination, but don’t recognize it. When we exit interstate twenty-five and head west, away from Colorado Springs, any remnants of fun or excitement about this adventure are gone. “Okay, Wilde. That’s it.” I point at the clock on the dash. “It is after twelve so, including stops for food and fuel, we’ve been on the road for almost four hours. This stopped being fun a long time ago—and I have to pee. Please…tell me where the hell we are going.”

Gabe appears equally frustrated when he looks over. “Almost there.” A few minutes later, we exit the highway and turn onto a side street. He points towards a newly developed subdivision ahead. “See that place up on the right?”

I follow the line between his finger and a modern looking duplex. “Yeah?”

Gabe stops the truck at the end of the short driveway. “Well?” He’s practically bouncing in his seat with excitement. “What do you think?”

“I think whoever lives here probably won’t appreciate us blocking their driveway.”

Gabe dismisses my comment with the wave of his hand. “I doubt that, seeing as no one lives here. Yet.”

“How do you know that? And, if no one lives here then why are we here?”

“Well. I called and spoke to the property management company on my way to pick you up and the place is ours, if we want it. I just have to give them the deposit and we can pick up the keys.”

Confusion, fear, excitement, each emotion takes a turn wrenching my stomach into knots. “What are you talking about?”

“Us, Doll. Our future. I spent all night looking at places online, and I thought you’d fall in love when you saw this one. There’s no way pictures could do it justice, plus this is a pretty hot area, so if we want the place, we’re gonna have to act fast. Hence…our road trip.”

“Gabe. Hon?” I pause as I look over the duplex, appreciating the spacious backyard, the two-car garage, and the hip, comfortable vibe of the neighborhood. He’s right. I do love it. I could easily see us starting our family here. Under different circumstances, anyway. “Don’t you think the drive back and forth to the ranch would be a little far for you?” The question is as much a joke as it is a gauge, to measure his response as I try to decipher the meaning of this surprise.

“Back and forth to the ranch?” Gabe shakes his head. “God yes. That would be awful. But that’s the best part, Doll. I won’t be driving back and forth to the ranch. Not regularly, anyway.”

“Oh yeah? How do you see this working, then?”

Unable to hide his frustration any longer, Gabe shifts the truck into gear and pulls away without a word.

“Where are you taking me now?”

“So much for surprising you.” Gabe takes a breath. “Honestly, I thought you’d be a little more receptive to the idea, all things considered.” His words are surprisingly harsh.

“So that’s it? We’re just driving back? Four hours down, five minutes here, and four hours back?”

Gabe growls before he speaks. “You said you needed to use the bathroom, right?”

I nod.

“Well?” He turns into a gas station and parks in front of the building. “Here you go.”

I do my business, and as I walk back towards the truck I’m trying to see the situation from Gabe’s perspective. Am I just not following his line of thinking? Is there more to this? I climb in and try to salvage the situation. “We drove all this way. Before we head home, why don’t we find some place to talk. You can try and help me understand your plan. Okay?”

Gabe doesn’t speak. He nods in agreement and pulls out his phone to find somewhere nearby where we can go. The man is deflated, and trying his best to hide it. Like a kid whose big red balloon just drifted out of his hand. Neither of us speak on the short drive to Red Rock Canyon.

“Keep your eye out for some place where we can park, okay?” Gabe asks as we turn in.

We make our way through the most amazing scenery. “There.” I point to an empty spot off to our left.

Gabe pulls up, shifts the truck into park, and kills the engine. As he unfastens his seatbelt, Gabe looks at me for the first time since leaving the duplex. “Feel like a hike?” Gabe takes my hand in his as we walk side by side up the trail. Finally, he clears his throat and finds his voice. “Mer—You say no one listens to you, but that’s not true. I hear you. That’s what this is. This is me, hearing you and taking steps to give you what you wanted.”

I step back. “Excuse me? When did I ever mention wanting to move to Colorado Springs?”

“Fine. But you know what I mean. How many times have you gone on and on about how you didn’t come back to Logan county to settle down?”

Maybe it’s just me here, but this is beginning to feel like my own words are being used against me. Twisting them to make this my fault. And it’s kind of pissing me off.

“Okay. I fail to see how that statement, however many times I may have made it, gets us here.”

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