“I’m sorry, Chris. I know it’s getting late—”
“It ain’t that, Julián. Lemme ask you something. Is there a chance you may never see her face-to-face again? If she’s busy with her new career and you’re busy here or wherever else you move on to? Will you lose your chance if you don’t do something about it—like now—to let her know how you feel?”
“We didn’t have that much time together, alone, Chris. I’m worried she’ll think I’m a stalker.”
Chris scoffed. “Last time you were on the phone with her it was for over an hour. She knows you’re not a stalker, damn it. It’s a little ring, a nice ring, but not an engagement ring. I think she’d like it. And maybe it would get her thinking too.”
Julián arched an eyebrow at Chris. “You gonna don a diaper, little golden wings, and a golden bow and arrow next?”
“Just fucking call me Cupid. You look happy when you talk to her, even if it’s only on the phone. I think you need to go for it. Fucking carpe diem.” An elderly customer grimaced in shock at him as she moved past them. “Sorry, ma’am. You weren’t supposed to hear that. How’re you doin’?” He winked at her and grinned, and she flapped her hand at him as she blushed and snickered.
“How someone can be such a damned coarse oaf and still charm women is beyond me,” Julián said as the old lady winked back and went on her way.
“It’s a gift I have, Julió. Go buy your lady that ring. It’s a nice one.”
As they returned to the case containing the ring, Chris wondered if someday he’d find someone who’d want to wear his ring. He joked around a lot about being charming but it was all bullshit. And it was easy to flirt with elderly ladies. He’d honed that skill watching his father, uncles, and older brothers charming all the women in their family. Charming women he was attracted to was entirely different. He was big, and he was mature enough to admit he was pug ugly. It was a fact of his life.
* * * *
Gwen sat on the cold, stiff, cracked seat of the idling truck, her old Dodge Ram dually, and stared at the literal and figurative crossroads before her. Roger and her dad had tried to get her to stay at least for the night at Roger’s ranch but she’d refused. If she sat down or stopped, she might not be able to get up. She might fall apart. By getting right back on the road, she didn’t miss a beat. She’d done it before—or close. Arriving home one day and leaving the next.
Still uncertain which way to turn out of Roger’s long driveway, she lifted her phone from the seat when she heard the soft tone.
She swiped the screen and clicked the notification when she saw who had responded to her earlier status update. Julián Alvarez. Her heart fluttered just from thinking his name.
As she read his comment, her heart twisted in her chest. “Wish I was there, or that there was here.”
She whispered sadly, “You don’t want to be here right now. Trust me.” She gripped the cold, hard steering wheel after laying the phone down on the seat with his words still visible.
Trying to decide which way to head—north or south—she felt a tap, tap, tap on her upper thigh. Looking down, she realized it was tears dripping from her chin. She’d held them at bay until she was alone in the truck and they’d flowed nonstop as she’d driven away and left her dad and Roger standing there. Her dad had looked heartbroken.
The only thing Gwen could think of that had been harder than this was when her sister, Ruth, had died of leukemia at age fourteen on Christmas Day, when Gwen was eighteen. The same depression that came every year at that time filled the cab of the truck, only this time it was more intense.
The Bucking H Ranch had always been home. With it as her anchor, she could head out to face the world and all the competitions, knowing she had something to return to, but now it was gone. Zephyr was gone. She’d been close to passing out from a combination of anger and pain when she’d discovered that Zephyr had been reloaded in her trailer and driven off the ranch before Gwen had even finished talking to her dad in the office. She never even got to say good-bye.
Her hands trembled as they found the familiar grooves on the steering wheel and she turned left, south, and set out with no particular destination.
Snow was falling steadily, so she decided to not make any calls until she stopped. She needed both hands on the wheel. There had been times in her other, newer truck, which had its own Internet hotspot and hands-free calling, that she’d driven many miles on the road while talking with Julián. She’d gotten spoiled by the luxury of her new truck and her horse trailer which had comfortable, air-conditioned living quarters in it. Necessity dictated making do with what she had for now. The old horse trailer had a small living quarters in it too but the accommodations were bare bones and it would be cold sleeping in there.