Page 44 of Wannabe in Wyoming
J
Willow had no tears left.Admittedly, even though this letter was as heartbreaking as the others, she was becoming used to the emotions her father’s words evoked. They were beautiful, and she mourned the man he was that the world never knew.
Checking the time, she saw she had fifteen minutes to shower and make herself presentable before Nathan Skyped her. She didn’t want him to see the evidence of her tears. Not to mention, she was dirty and probably still had a few cobwebs in her hair from the barn.
Anticipation bolstering her, she carefully put the letters away before stripping and walking into the bathroom. As she turned on the water in the shower to let it warm up, she wondered what Nathan would think and do if she answered his Skype call buck naked. Grinning now, with happiness bubbling in her stomach, she stepped into the tub under the spray, looking forward to the surprise on her man’s face when he found her sitting in front of him wearing nothing but her skin.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Willow clearedher throat as she prepared to read the next letter aloud to Nathan during another one of their nightly Skype sessions after he’d returned to Kansas. While they spoke every day, either over the phone or internet, Willow needed time to recover after reading each of her father’s letters, so she only tackled one every other day. The emotions they evoked drained her.
Jason—she still couldn’t allow herself to call him herdad—was a completely different person on paper than the people of Antelope Rock ever knew. He’d been a soulful man, passionately in love with the young woman he couldn’t be with, and every letter left Willow gutted and in tears. The time frame between letters she’d read so far was as little as two days and as much as several months. There were only a few left. Some had only been a short paragraph or two, while others had been longer, but all of them were of him professing his love to her mother. A few letters detailed the goings-on around the ranch and town and what his plans were for building a life there with the woman he loved when they were finally able to be together again.
October 15th
My beloved Cherry,
I’m in such shock, my hand is shaking as I write this. A baby? You’re pregnant with my child? At first I thought my cousin Aaron was joking when he called a few hours ago to tell me the news, but he convinced me he was serious. Sweetheart, oh how I wish I could be there for you. From my estimate, you’re about eight months along. I’m trying to picture your rounded belly, and the image I have in my head is beautiful, though I’m sure my imagination can’t do the reality justice.
I thought my heart was broken before, but knowing you’re pregnant with our child and I’m not there by your side . . . I don’t have words for what I’m feeling right now. Rage, hurt, and sorrow to the very pit of my soul. I still don’t regret making love to you, but knowing you’re carrying a piece of us both elates me even as it slays me. I feel dead inside sometimes, Cherry. Can a man die of heartbreak? I don’t know, but the only thing keeping me going is thinking of you—even though thoughts of you bring me more pain.
While trying to concentrate on finishing my work, I had a daydream about you like I always do, only this time, you cursed me. You stood before me, swollen with child, and instead of love in your eyes, it was hate. Is that our future? Will you grow to despise me? Will our child?
I’m so lonely without you, Cherry. So very lonely. Uncle Simon introduced me to a girl at a church function the other day. I’d call her a woman, since she’s my age, but she doesn’t act like one. Her name is Chasity Jenkins. She’s tiny, blonde, and giggles at everything I say, even when I’m not trying to be funny. She doesn’t hold a candle to you, in either the beauty or brains department. Uncle Simon wants me to date her—apparently her parents approve of me too—but I can’t bring myself to even think of someone else that way. To have someone who isn’t you in my bed would be a betrayal of everything I feel for you. Even now, when I’m so scared my stomach is in knots.
I hate this. I HATE it. I need to be there with you, with our family. I need to support you and hold you. I’m a bastard, and I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me, but if I came back to Philly to be with you, I’d be thrown in jail. The baby is all the proof they’d need to toss away the key.
I’m a coward. I should send this letter. You need to know you’re not alone, even if I can only be there is spirit. You need to know I still love you. I still want you, and now, our child, in my life.
I can’t write anymore. Not tonight and maybe not for a while. It hurts too much.
J
* * *
Willow putthe letter back and took out the next one. No tears came this time, but her heart ached for both Jason and her mother. It was so unfair. She also now had an inkling of why the restaurant owner had been so hostile to her while Willow and Nathan had been on their date. Either her father hadn’t gone through with dating Chasity, or he’d started a relationship with her and it’d ended badly. Willow had meant to ask Jeremiah about the woman, but then forgot with all the work that’d needed to be done to prepare for the arrival of her new animals and foreman.
Instead of stopping after just one letter this time, curiosity won out over her feelings, and she opened the next envelope. It would be the first time she’d be reading them back-to-back, but she suddenly needed to know what happened next in her father’s life. “I’m going to keep going, okay?”
“I’m here, Wannabe.” Nathan’s steady calm presence grounded her, even if he was on the other side of the computer screen.
December 1st
Dearest Cherry,
Have you forgotten me? Did you have our baby yet? Is it a boy or girl? Did you scream my name as the labor pains became unbearable? Did you think of me when you named our child? Were you forced to give him or her up? I wish I could’ve had the courage to be there for you and that Fate hadn’t been so cruel as to keep me away from you.
I love you, but I don’t deserve you. I doubt I ever did. I’m sorry, my sweet Cherry.
J
* * *
November 9th
Cherry,
It’s been seven years since I’ve written to you. Seven very long years. I had to put you out of my mind. I had to. I was drowning in memories, swallowed up by grief. I forced myself to focus on my work and building a life here. If I dwelled on you and our child, I would’ve lost my mind. I was going crazy. For a while there, my work had suffered, and Uncle Simon and I had argued over it, until words were no longer enough. There were punches thrown and tears shed, but he finally set me straight. You are there and I am here. Nothing was going to change that. I was so naive. Who can wait twelve years for the love of their life? Twelve years is a lifetime.
