Page 55 of A Reckless Memory

“And after that?”

“You became my favorite person to be with.” I flattened my hand, soaking in her warmth. “Your brothers aren’t going to like this, but I’m not letting them run me off again.”

She twined her hand into mine. “They acted like they had a hard time letting me go, but I think they never knew what to do with me in the first place. When Mama’s life insurance went to only me...it hurt them, and I always wondered if there were hard feelings. If they were relieved that I left and never came back.”

“They care about you.”

“They feel responsible for me. But they had their own problems with Daddy, so they were content to ignore me if I wasn’t getting in trouble.” She studied where our hands were laced. “How did they run you off?”

That day ran through my head. I’d avoided thinking about it for so long, the memory was distant, yet the words rang clear.

You’re a fucking loser.

Piece of goddamn shit.

You came from nothing, and you wanted to use my sister to get something that would’ve never been yours.

I still didn’t disagree with them.

“They gave me ten minutes to pack my shit and get off the land. Barns argued with them, insisting he was still the boss, but I left.” There’d been nothing for me there.

I hadn’t found anything for me anywhere.

In Kansas, I thought I’d be able to make a home. Fall in love with Stephanie. Talk her into moving to Texas. Do it right. Yet nothing would be right as long as I was living off someone else, and by the time I pieced together the clues as she mentioned her friends’ engagement rings, what she’d like, bridal magazines by the shitter, and talk of who I’d want standing up for me, I figured out I was defunct. I wasn’t capable of falling in love, and if I missed that many signs, I had no business stringing her along. The panic I fought off, worrying she’d think I stayed in the relationship with ulterior motives, had been the biggest signal I had to break up with her.

“Where’d you go?” I asked, knowing the general outline of her life after me. Barns had glossed over major details, and I hadn’t wanted to sound too interested in case he started with more manipulative plans.

“Bozeman first. Then I did an internship in Denver before moving to Cheyenne.” She smothered a yawn. “Tex kept me sane as much as he drove me crazy.”

“I’m glad you had him.”

She laughed, then bit her lip. “He hated my exes. Peed in one’s shoes, and he ate the other one’s underwear.”

“Good boy.”

Still chuckling, she rolled to the edge of the bed and paused, looking over her shoulder and holding the sheet to her chest. The curve of her back and her bouncy curls gave her an ethereal quality—a painting on the edge of the bed. “Are you staying the night?”

It’d be so easy. To stay over one night. And then another. Moving in little bits here and there until there was nothing left in the trailer but the furniture that was left in it when I arrived. But we couldn’t just pick up where we left off. There were too many years between now and then, and this time, I really wanted to do it right. I wanted to have something to offer, and that wouldn’t happen while I was getting paid in kibbles and bits.

I had no clue how to remedy my situation, but I couldn’t start by fucking things up with Aggie. “I’ll stay in my trailer. I have to get Fancy kenneled so I can take her for her spay appointment in the morning.”

Disappointment filled her expression. “That’s right. Thanks for arranging it. I’ll pick her up after work.”

I couldn’t leave her thinking I didn’t want to be with her, only that I wanted to take it slow, to make sure I did it right this time. “I also want to ask you on a proper date. Friday night? Wings and dancing? Or darts?”

“I haven’t played darts since I lived in Buffalo Gully.”

“Let’s see what Crocus Valley has for a wings-and-darts situation.”

“Friday. It’s a date.” Her grin was in her voice when she slipped out of bed and took my shirt off the floor. She draped it over her shoulders and wrapped the sides around her like a robe. “I’ll give this back in a minute.”

“I didn’t forget naked chores either,” I called after her.

Eleven

AGGIE

I swung by the vet clinic after work to pick up Fancy. A young vet tech with a long ponytail set Fancy’s brand-new carrier on the counter. A bleary-eyed tortie blinked back at me, her golden eyes slits in the black fur of her face.

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