Page 25 of Wrecked for Love
“Some gal from Idaho,” Logan said with a shrug. “She’s a good sort. Been asking if she can spruce the place up, and I told her, ‘Knock yourself out.’”
“Huh! I don’t know whether to congratulate her for having good taste or feel sorry for her.”
Logan grinned, but then his expression shifted to something more serious. “El…I know what The Willow means to you. You can’t change the past, but you can choose to let it go. It doesn’t mean forgetting. Just means not letting it weigh you down.”
I stared out at the ranch, the light bleeding into the horizon like the last breath of the day. Logan’s words weighed on me, settling deep in my chest. He wasn’t wrong, but letting go wasn’t something I could just up and do. It was a process—a long, messy one I’d tried to start more times than I could count. But every time, it felt like trying to climb a mountain barefoot. I haven’t even made it halfway.
Logan shifted in his seat. “You’re not doin’ yourself any favors holdin’ onto it, El. You deserve a shot at peace. Just think about it.”
I snorted, shaking my head. “The only way for me to get any peace is to leave Buffaloberry altogether. I can’t see it any other way, man.”
Logan sighed, glancing at the sky with me. The shade of purple stretched wide like a wound.
“You know that’s not a solution,” he said, his voice quieter, more thoughtful. “Can you really walk away from all this?”
Never.
But I didn’t say it. I just shrugged and took another long sip of the beer.
The Lazy Moose was in my blood. I guess my feelings about this place weren’t so different from how Logan felt about The Willow. My folks were gone, my baby brother had taken off to the city for a new life, and Tessa…she was gone too. But she wouldn’t have left. I knew that. If she were still here, she’d be right alongside me, working her heart out. Now, the weight of it all rested squarely on my shoulders. Sure, I had a choice. I could’ve walked away if I wanted to. But this ranch was my place. It was where I belonged. Hell, I hadn’t changed my mind about dying here either.
“The Voss brothers…they have to pay for what they did to her,” I muttered, frustration simmering under my words.
“And that’s exactly what I meant by letting go. What are you gonna do? Beat the crap out of them and end up in jail?” Logan shot back.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s been years, man. You haven’t done anything yet, which means you don’t really plan to. The mind can be a dark, messy place, but it doesn’t mean you need to act on every wild thought it throws at you.”
“Then I should probably chop my head off!” I quipped, half serious.
Logan scoffed, shaking his head with a grin, then clapped me on the shoulder as he stood up. “Well, I better hightail it home before my wife figures out I raided the fridge.”
I smirked. “Tell her that damn meatloaf was top-notch.”
He tossed a wink my way, already descending the steps. “You know where to find me when you need a decent meal. Oh, and the boys are hitting the bar this weekend. You should join us.”
I forced a smirk, but it probably came off more worn out than anything. “Maybe next time.”
The same answer I’d been giving Log for as long as I could remember. The truth was, I barely left The Lazy Moose anymore. People didn’t mean it, but I could still feel their pity. Lucas’ last man standing after one too many tragedies. Other times, it was just easier to dodge the questions altogether, regardless of their good intentions. Evasion felt cleaner than getting stuck in the moment and scrambling for a way out.
Log just gave his usual nod, then headed off for home, no words needed.
I stepped inside, the front door creaking in that familiar way that somehow still caught me off guard, even after all this time living here alone. You’d think I’d have gotten used to the silence by now, but it still felt strange. I strode slowly, thoughts churning in my head. Before I even realized it, my feet had taken me to a door I hadn’t opened in years.
My hand hovered over the knob. Tessa’s things were still in there, untouched, like time had frozen the day she died. She wasn’t just a force in our family. She was my big sister. Fierce, no-nonsense, and always there when I needed her. I was seventeen then, but in the ranch world, that made me a man. Still, even men can’t just shrug off a loss as brutal as this.
I turned the knob just slightly, but as soon as I heard the creak of the door, I let it go. Closed it.
No, I still couldn’t.
11
CLAIRE
Logan had been right. Paul, the hardware store owner, hired me on the spot. It was an easy yes for him and, honestly, for me too.
“Claire, Claire, can you help me with these, please…pleeease…” Annette, Paul’s sixteen-year-old daughter, begged as she tugged at a box that looked way too big for her frame.
