Page 74 of Live for Me

I shook my head again. “I can’t—I can’t, Beau. Please.”

“Please what?” he bellowed, shooting up to his full height. I jerked and took another step back. “Please what, Abbie? What the fuck are you begging for?”

The please wasn’t for him. It was for the ones watching us, the ones who wanted us to be apart. The ones who cornered me and threatened me to leave Beau Marks and Hallow Ranch—forever.

“I’m sorry,” I rasped, knowing it wasn’t worth a damn.

He shook his head. “No, fuck that! What the hell is this?” he shot back. “What the hell do you mean you can’t marry me?”

I said nothing, snapping my head to the side to look at something, anything but him as my heart crumbled into millions of pieces.

“Do you—do you not love me anymore, baby?”

The question came out as nothing but raw pain, dusted with disbelief.

I closed my eyes, letting more tears fall. “I have to go,” I told him, not looking at him. If did, I would stay. I would be putting him and everyone else on this ranch in danger. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t be that selfish.

I felt his fingers brush my arm then. “Baby,” he choked out. “Abbie, look at me. Please, Wildflower.”

I didn’t say another word.

Instead, I ran.

I ran from love, from my fairytale ending. I ran from the life I thought I deserved.

My heart was pounding as I got to the bunkhouse, yanking the door open.

Denver, Caleb, and Jigs were all seated at the table. All three of them shot up from their seats, and the fading smile on Jigs’ face was just another blow. “Abbie?”

I said nothing as I stepped inside, cutting through the space, bypassing the table and heading straight for Beau’s bunk.

“Abbie, is everything okay?” Denver asked from behind me.

I nodded as I got down on the floor, ruining my dress as I fished out the packed duffle I’d shoved underneath Beau’s bunk earlier this morning.

“What’s going on?” Jigs demanded as I stood, facing them.

My bottom lip trembled as I looked over to Mags, the dark cowboy in the corner of the bunkhouse, the book he’d been reading now face down on his thigh. His dark eyes pierced mine, and I knew if I let him study me a moment longer, hewould figure it out. That was Mags. He was good at reading people.

“Abbie, sweetheart,” Jigs said once I looked away from Mags. “Talk to me.”

I stepped up to the old man, tears streaming down my cheeks. I put my hand on his chest, feeling his old, sturdy heart. “Tell him I love him,” I whispered. “Years from now, when the pain has numbed, tell him it was real.”

Jig’s blue eyes went wide, but I was moving again. I looked at Denver and then to his precious son. “Bye, buddy,” I whispered.

Then, I was gone, running across the gravel to the back of the bunkhouse where my shitty car was parked. I fired up the engine and didn’t even give the old engine a second to warm up before throwing it in reverse, backing out and sending gravel flying as I stomped on the gas.

I cried all the way to the city of Denver and the tears didn’t stop for twelve months.

Beau said nothing else to me as I eventually swung out of the truck, and he shut the door. Then, he silently led me to the littlegate, opening it with ease and jerking his head, signaling for me to walk through first.

I avoided looking at all the wildflowers at my feet, keeping my gaze towards the trees. Beau moved by me then, and my feet moved on their own, my body wanting to be near him. Minutes later, ones that stretched longer than needed, I followed Beau around a large pine tree.

My breath caught at the sight of the small cabin nestled among the pines and oaks.

“This was supposed to be for us?” I whispered, slowly turning my head to find Beau already staring down at me with a pained look on his face.

His throat bobbed. “Yeah, Abbie. It was.”

---