Page 50 of That Touch

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Decker pushes, and I’m not in the mood.

“Seriously? I thought we were going to have a nice final night together before you leave—just some good Mexican food and a few beers. I really don’t need this shit right now.”

“I don’t care, because someone has to say it to you. We don’t know what went down between you two, but we collectively agree it’s because you’ve got your head so far up your ass that you can’t find a way out.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve got my life figured out for me, thanks.”

Decker sighs. “I don’t, but I know you don’t either. I do know, though, that you’re running.”

“Running?”

“Yeah, that’s why you’re here.” He points to the table between us. “I know Dad wanted you here over me—I get that, and there’s no resentment there—but I’m capable of running this place, and you know it. Let me take over. Go home and fix things with her. She deserves that . . . you both do.”

“It’s not that easy, Deck. I wish it were.” I take a sip of my beer, but it does little to settle my nerves.

“I know it’s not easy, but staying here isn’t going to make your feelings for her disappear. My guess is, she’ll eventually move on, not because she wants to, but because she has to. Meanwhile, you’ll still be here, or wherever, stuck in your misery. Look,” he leans forward, “I know it kills you to know that Dean is gone and that you’re in love with her. That’s complicated, so I can’t understand how you feel, but I also know you can work through that.”

“It’s not . . .” I rub my temples, frustrated. “It’s not just that, Deck. How would you feel if the woman you felt was your soulmate—the love of your life—fell in love with not just someone else, but your best friend, and then after he’s tragically ripped from her life, she chooses you. Yeah, it’s petty and probably sounds so fucking immature and trivial, but it kills me to know I wasn’t the love of her life.”

“So you’ll lose her completely because of your pride?”

I want to be angry at him, but hearing someone say that out loud for the first time puts it into perspective. “I—no. No, I don’t want to, but the issue is: How the fuck do I work past that?”

“Together, Ranger,” he says the words slowly, “with her. You’ve gotta communicate this stuff to her, man.”

“I feel like I’ve fucked everything up. I just need time to think through things—to work through my own shit and focus on the ranch. I appreciate you wanting to help me, but right now, I just need to take it a day at a time and give her and myself space.”

It’s not what I want, but I know it’s the right decision right now. I know if I try to force things, I’ll ruin it. I have my own shit to work through, and I can’t put that on Dolly . . . not after everything she’s been through.

17

DAHLIA

“Thank you.” I smile at the ultrasound tech as she rips the photos off the printer and hands them to me.

I get dressed after my doctor’s appointment and schedule my next one with the receptionist before leaving. I chose a doctor in Fort Collins since it’s big enough and far enough away that I shouldn’t run into anyone from town. I haven’t told anyone I’m pregnant yet. Well, anyone other than Ranger, who clearly wants nothing to do with me or my baby since he didn’t even respond to the letter I left him.

Call me crazy, but I think I expected some big rom-com-style declaration of love after he read it—that he’d show up at my house, telling me he didn’t care what it took, because he’d be by my side during this and for the rest of my life. I pull the sonogram photos out of my purse once I’m back in my car in the parking lot, running my finger over the little bean-shaped shadow of my baby. It’s usually a gamble with my hormones when it comes to my emotions, but today I smile. Tomorrow or maybe even 20 minutes from now, I’ll sob looking at the same photo, but in this moment, I’m happy thinking about holding my baby in five months.

I know I’m not totally alone in this. While my mom has passed and my dad’s dementia prevents him from even remembering me most days, my friends and Ranger’s family will be with me every step of the way . . . once I tell them.

I check the time. I’m meeting Milly, Amelia, and Brooklyn for dinner in a few hours, which gives me time to check out a baby boutique in town I’d looked up online. I pull up Google Maps and navigate my way to the store. It’s so cute with dozens of stuffed animals, frilly dresses, and socks.

“Hi there! Can I help you find something specific?” A tall red-headed woman pops up from behind the counter, a smile on her face.

“Oh, I’m just looking.” I instinctively place my hands on my still-flat belly.

“First-time mom?” she says with a knowing grin.

“That obvious?”

“You have the look of overwhelm.” She rainbows her arms to illustrate the overwhelm, then hands me a piece of paper. “We actually have a little list here of things we recommend for first-time moms. It’s a lot, but don’t worry, you don’t need half of it.” She holds up her hand to one side like she’s telling me a secret. “I’d recommend just looking around. You’re still early on?” I nod. “Just take it all in and maybe find one little thing you fall in love with as your first item. I always recommend a little blanket or stuffed animal. Something you can look at and smile every time you start to feel overwhelmed on this journey.”

“I like that idea. Thank you.”

“Of course, and don’t worry, mama,” she winks at me, “you’ve got this.”

Just that small interaction has my mind at ease as I walk through the store, taking in all the cute items. I scan the rows and rows of stuffed animals, my eyes stopping on a little orange cat. It makes me think of my pet cat Jerry from when I was a little girl. I pick it up and smile, taking it to the register.

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