Page 105 of Rope Me In

Every part of me wants to say yes, but then I feel my message-less phone burning a hole in my pocket. Kade’s smiling face swims before my vision, and my excitement dissipates.Where is he?

“It’s just some shows in honky-tonks, but we have a couple in Dallas and even one in Nashville down the line if we all jive together outside of gigs,” Andy adds. “Which I’m sure we will.”

I smile at him and take out my phone, giving it to Andy. “Can you put your number in? I’ll think about it.”

Andy takes my phone as Jake watches warily. I feel his questioning gaze on me, and I bet he’s wondering why I didn’t just say yes.

In the past, after feeling so great onstage—plus getting all that appreciation and love—I would have probably said yes and hoped this band was different from my last. And while I think they are, I have two good jobs here in Randall, a nice place to stay, and people in my life now that I care about. One person in particular.

The urge to find Kade gets stronger. When Andy gives me back my phone and I still don’t see any messages or calls from Kade, the overwhelming sense that he needs me hits me hard, and I have to hold off a shiver.

I force a smile as I nod at the band. “Thanks, I’ll call you later this week.”

“Great!” they all chime.

“Well, we see some ladies who want our attention.” Andy wiggles his eyebrows. “We’ll chat later.”

He shakes Jake’s hand, and the four men walk off, leaving Jake with me again. “When you find Kade, will you text me?” Jake asks.

“Yes, of course,” I say, looking into the dark-brown eyes of Kade’s concerned friend. Now I’m very worried. “I’ll see you later. And thanks for tonight.”

Jake squeezes my bicep. “No, thank you.”

I nod at him then step away to head toward the back room and pack up my fiddle. I try to call Kade, but it goes straight to voicemail. My hackles rise as I grab my purse, running to my car.

What if something happened? I think of what Kade told me at Devil’s Rock, how Gavin treated him this morning. Now I don’t know why I didn’t insist on staying with him like I had earlier. I can always play fiddle—there will always be gigs. But did Kade need me tonight, and I wasn’t there for him? Guiltroils through me. The first person to really care about me, and I’m already screwing it up.

I put my stuff in my car, and then I’m off, hurtling down the road. By now, I know the way back home like the back of my hand. It doesn’t matter that it’s dark—I could close my eyes and still know the way back.

The hairs on my arms stand on end when it dawns on me what I just thought. The song playing on the radio fades out, and my heartbeat thumps in my ears so it’s all I can hear. “Home,” I say out loud. “Home. I’m home.”

My already rampant thoughts flip about my head like they’re on spin cycle, and then I’m laughing.Home.

I reflect on my time in Randall, how I’ve pushed myself beyond my comfort zone. How I’ve smiled more than I have my entire life. How I feel like this dense fog that’s been suffocating me has lifted and I can finally breathe. Do I have my moments? Yes. I’m only human. But for the first time in a long time, I feel content. At home. Not just in myself, but here, in Randall. With Kade.

I let out a laugh again, one that frees up the weight on my chest that’s felt so heavy. Then I smile, Kade’s handsome, stubbled face filling my every thought. Every action he’s done over the last few weeks only makes me want to be with him more. To fill my time with him and all the things that I love.

Then I’m laughing again. Am I having a mental breakdown? Breakup? That’s silly. There’s no such thing. But I feel free. Holy crap, I’m happy. I’m in love. Not just with Kade, but with my life.

I step on the gas pedal and go a little faster, the spark in my stomach that’s telling me to get to Kade burning brighter. When the driveway to the Montgomery Family Ranch comes into view, I breathe a sigh of relief. I drive past the house and don’t see his truck there, so I keep going to the hands’ quarters, hoping that’swhere he’ll be.

When I pull up and see his truck, hope lights in my chest. I park next to it and kill the engine before rushing into the house. My stomach drops when he’s not there—instead, an open whiskey bottle is sitting on the counter next to his cell phone. Crap. Crap. Crap. I try to think of where he might be, and for a second, I come up empty. But then it clicks.

I turn for the door and sprint to the barn. I see the light through the windows as I approach and suck in a breath. With the muscles I’ve built up doing ranch work, I pull the sliding door open with almost too much force, and it bangs against the frame. I wince but continue to where I know Kade is.

I run up the stairs, and when I reach the loft, I’m sweating, and my chest is heaving with shortness of breath, but I see him. He’s here. His broad back is to me as he stares out into the darkness through the open loft door, but he’s here.

There’s no way he didn’t hear me, but he acts as if he doesn’t, his body as motionless as water on a windless day.

“Kade,” I say quietly. At the sound of his name, his shoulders tense up, then in the next breath, they slump again. “Kade?” He still doesn’t face me, nor does he say anything.

I walk tentatively to him and lean on the wooden railing next to him. My arm gently touches his as I settle in and turn my head to look at him. He is staring off into nothingness while he grips his silver flask in his fingers so hard they’re starting to turn white. I attempt to study his face, to get a read on him, but his features are blank.

I bite my lip as I debate what to do or say. But I settle on silence, staring out into the night along with him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

The sudden sound of his voice makes me jump. Then I’m hit with how much pain I hear laced through his words. I gently touch his forearm, feeling the lean muscles bunch underneath my palm, but I don’t move my hand.

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