Page 97 of A Reckless Memory

I thought Aggie was pushing me away, and she was, but only because she wanted me to have my dreams. “I’m an idiot.”

“Better to figure that out sooner than later.” He slapped my back and winced, gently rotating his shoulder. “And you’re not an idiot. You’re sensitive. You feel deeply. Had I recognized it or grown up in a family that acknowledged feelings, I would’ve handled you and Archer better. It was easier to kick you boys outside and ignore your emotions. Hindsight makes things perfectly clear.”

“What if I ruined it?”

“Aren’t you still talking to her? I assume she’s why you’re looking at your phone a hundred times an hour.”

My communication with Aggie had been brief and polite. I’d tried to call before bed, but the conversations ended stilted instead of sexy. When I tried to warm up our talks, the words fell flat and cold between us. She was waiting for me to sever the tie and I...

I was at my old home, the place she knew I dreamed about, when nothing mattered but her. “I’m checking my phone a hundred times because she hasn’t responded.”

She sold Gingerbread to a family with a budding roper. She’d sent a picture of them standing around Gingerbread and said the mom in the family had experience working with project horses. Aggie had found the perfect fucking family for a horse I’d wanted to see hit his potential. I’d sent her pictures of Dad’s place and his horse, Buckstop, and I’d gotten a simple reply. Nice.

I took out my phone—still no missed calls or messages—and snapped a few pictures of the house and the area around it. The corrals where we used to work cattle were a speck in the background. But it was enough. Seeing them as tiny grains on the screen rammed home that there was nothing here for me. Everything I wanted was on forty acres in Crocus Valley.

I almost turned to Dad and said I had to get going, I needed to get back to Aggie, but seeing him with an arm wrapped around his middle slapped my lips shut. He might be healing well, but he was over sixty and recovering from getting rammed by an angry mama cow. He wasn’t swinging into a saddle anytime soon, and his job didn’t exactly cover much for benefits.

If he was moving to a different state, he’d need me and Archer to help. He’d refused any money from me as soon as I’d told him the story. Don’t think you’re going to treat me like a charity. I didn’t know Barnaby Knight, and I’m not taking his money.

I knew Barnaby, and I hadn’t had a choice—this time.

“I need to call Aggie when we get back.”

“I reckon we should get going.” I opened the door for him, and he scowled at me as he climbed in, muttering, “I ain’t gettin’ that old.”

Grinning, I jogged around to the driver’s side. Once we were on the highway driving to the other side of Guthrie, I relaxed, but only slightly. The worry of how badly I’d fucked up but wasn’t in a position to fix my mess raced back and forth along my shoulders. I was antsy but also hopeful. Scared my stubborn Aggie had decided not to trust me with her heart after all.

“Need anything from town?” I asked as we drove through to take a smaller highway north.

He grunted, his eyelids dropping. “My bed’s calling my name. I’ve never taken so many goddamn naps.”

He was growing more disgruntled by the day. A good sign. But I didn’t cherish the looming argument that he needed to take more time to recover and should sit his ass back down.

Archer was visiting again this weekend. We could both talk to him.

When I pulled into the drive, a nice dust cloud kicked up behind us, and a familiar red pickup was sitting in front of the detached garage. A girl sauntering from the house to the parked truck ground my world to a welcomed halt.

Aggie was wearing the Wranglers that were getting nice and worn from doing chores while I’d been gone. Her blue-and-gold hoodie from her university days was in better shape than the beat-up sweaters she used to wear when we’d first met. The straw hat she had always worn when I first met her was planted on her head, and she was squinting at our approach.

“We’ve got a guest?” Dad asked.

I would’ve slammed to a stop, but I couldn’t propel Dad into his seat belt. “It’s Aggie.” I sounded like Christmas had come early.

I pulled behind her pickup like I was intentionally blocking her in, and maybe I was. She regarded me warily, like she wasn’t sure I wanted her there. I hopped out, my long strides eating up the distance between us. Yanking her into my arms, I lifted her and spun her around, burying my nose in her neck and inhaling that familiar and very missed coconut-beach scent.

“Hot damn, I missed you.” I stopped twirling us.

Her hat had fallen off, and her arms were anchored tightly around my neck. “Does that mean you don’t mind I showed up without calling?”

“It means I’ve been a dumbass.” I set her down and grabbed her hat. I dusted it off and plunked it on her head. “Do you know my old home is for sale?”

Worry clouded her eyes, and she nodded. “Cody told me.”

“He’s a nosy fucker.”

She huffed out a laugh. “He’s also one of the reasons why I’m here.”

“Why are you here? Is everything okay?” Boots crunched on dirt, and she finally noticed Dad. “Hi. Sorry I crashed your place while you’re recovering.”

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